Page 44 of Sleeper: The Palisades Edition

Goddammit, why does she have to know everything?

I put both hands around her gorgeous, exasperating, frowning face. “I’m the one who can’t go anywhere.”

“Then let me stay with you.”

I lower my lips as close to hers as I can without kissing them. “If I do, I won’t ever want you to leave.”

She stares hungrily at my mouth. “Good.”

Her purse hits the floor just as my lips crash against hers.

Those lips, those glistening, juicy lips. I’ve heard so many surprising things come out of them, but this little humming sound that she’s making as her tongue tangles with mine is my favorite.

She’s spicy, but she tastes so sweet.

I push her two steps back, against the side of my Land Rover, lift her up by her thighs, and she wraps her legs tight around my waist. Hands gripping the side of my shirt, she gasps, and her head drops back as I tug on her hair so I can kiss her smooth neck.

“Oh my God, Shane,” she whispers, arching her back.

“This is how we say good night in America,” I grumble into her ear.

After a beat, we both burst out laughing for about three seconds—because that was a bad line, but I had to say it. And then she’s threading her fingers through my hair and we’re kissing again.

The truth is, I’ve never kissed someone with this much feeling without having a director yell “cut!” before changing camera angles.

She wriggles around. It’s fucking unbearable how much she’s wriggling and writhing around. I realize she’s removing her leather jacket and tossing it aside. She can move around more freely now, and there’s one less layerof clothing between my chest and her beautiful swelling tits. I lower her until her feet are back on the floor so I can slip my fingers up under that blouse that is far too small and place my hand on one soft, perky breast. Her bra is lacey, and her nipple is so hard.

She strokes my throbbing hard dick through my jeans.

“Fucking hell, Willa. You’re making me crazy.”

This has already gone too far.

She’s unbuttoning and unzipping her jeans. She puts her hand on mine, the one that’s squeezing her ass, that sexy little heart-shaped ass, and brings it around, slides it down inside her panties. “I want you to feel how wet I am for you.”

“Jesus.” The slippery warmth of her is so much more than proof of how much she wants me. It’s proof that there’s life after Dad Dick. “Willa. We need to stop.”

“No, don’t stop.”

She slowly turns around to face the car door, my hand still down the front of her jeans.

She places her palms flat against the car and rocks back and forth against my hand while rubbing her ass against my crotch.

My groan echoes around the garage, and my fingers find her clit and rub slow and steady.

My other hand reaches around to massage her breast, and there are about fifty other things I want to do to this woman, but right now I just need to make her come fast and quiet.

She is already right there on the edge.

I whisper into her ear. “You wanna come for me right now, Willa?”

“Yes.”

“This is who you are? This is what you want?”

“Yes. Yes!”

“You better stay quiet.”