Page 32 of Sunday's Best

Holden dips his head to kiss and lick the sensitive buds. He pulls one past his lips, sucking and tugging until my nails drag over his scalp and my back arches to give him more. I need more. I don’t know how to ask for it, so I resort to pleading with wordless sounds and breathy whimpers, rocking my hips on the truck seat in a desperate attempt to find friction.

Whether Holden senses it or he’s as greedy as I am, it doesn’t matter. All that matters is the way his huge hand presses against my pussy, widening my legs with a few well-placed rolls of his thumb over my clit.

He tsks. “Angel, you're making a mess of your shorts. You’re soaked.” His knuckle nudges the fluttery fabric aside, and Holden traces the edge of my underwear with his fingertip. “So soft, too. Knew you would be when I saw that bare pussy spread out on the bed.”

I think my heart stops altogether, at least for a few seconds, at that. He kisses me again, slow and deep, in time with the barely-there pet of his fingers over top of my underwear. The thin fabric’s drenched in my arousal. And I can feel his heart racing as fast as mine.

His fingers press firmly against my clit, and I bite down on my lip with a whine. “Please don’t stop—oh God. Holden, I’ll die if you do.”

“I will, too.” His forehead falls to meet mine. “I should’ve done this months ago.”

Yes, you should have. I stare into his dark, lustful eyes, and wiggle my hips to send another rush of fireworks skittering down my thighs. My eyes fall shut, and a low hum of pleasure rises up my throat.

“Does my brother make you feel like this? Does he make you squirm and moan just from touching you over your panties?”

“I’m not answer⁠—”

“Bet he doesn’t.” Holden licks along my jawline, blowing hot air over cool, damp skin. His short stubble scrapes my cheek. “If he did, I wouldn’t be the one making your pussy wet right now, wondering if she’s going to taste as pretty as she smells.” He inhales deeply. “You drive me crazy.”

I’m right there with him. I ball my fingers in his shirt, pulling him closer. With Holden, I feel safe to make my desires known. “Fuck him. I need you. Want you. Deserve you.”

With visible effort, he pulls away. “I don’t have any condoms.”

That should be enough to stop us in our tracks, but my heart’s pounding, skin buzzing from his touch, and the air around us already smells like sex.

“There’s plenty we can do without them.”

“Get in the back seat,” he commands.

Screw grace, humility, and ladylike mannerisms, I scramble over the center console and onto the bench seat. There’s no sense downplaying how badly I want him when the evidence coats my inner thighs and his left hand.

Holden laughs. “Love the enthusiasm.”

“Get back here before I resort to making myself come.” Spreading my knees as far apart as the small space allows, I give him a look and reach between my legs to pat the leather seat.

“Oh, my angel’s a bit of a brat, is she?”

My tummy swoops low and gets hung up on the use of my, which surely meant nothing beyond him trying to be sexy.

Holden’s much larger frame is even less graceful than mine was as he clambers into the back seat, and for a moment, we both end up in a fit of giggles. When he finally settles onto the seat—grabbing my legs and setting them on his lap—his face is ruddy with the cutest blush.

“Not my finest look,” he admits with a cringe.

Holden taking himself less seriously than ever before is actually the best look I’ve seen. I sit a little straighter, sift my hands through his hair, and kiss him. His mouth claims mine. My knees bend and spread for him.

He toys with the hem of my shorts, slipping a thumb just underneath, so close to where I need him. I wrap my hand around the seatbelt pre-emptively, waiting for that moment when he teases my clit and the world’s knocked out from under me.

“Remember when I told you what I wanted to do to you? Put these”—he digs his fingers into the meat of my thighs, making me gasp—“over my shoulders and eat your perfect little cunt?”

“Mm-hmm.”

Holden shifts in the small space. Peppered kisses trail down my stomach, and he bites at the ruched waist of my shorts. On instinct, my hips lift, and Holden tugs them down without hesitation. I think they end up on the floor, but I haven’t taken my eyes off his face—the enraptured look in his eye—long enough to know for sure.

Leaning in, he rubs his nose down the soft fabric covering my pussy and breathes me in on the painstaking drag upward. He’s consuming me like an illicit drug, taking everything he can get. The low growl when he comes up for air sends a frisson up my spine.

“Show me.” Pupils blown out with lust, he stares up at me. His voice is wrought with desperation.

My limbs are heavy, but I work up the strength to shift my underwear to the side. “Like this?”