Page 75 of Burn the Script

He frowns. “So do you, Miguel.”

“I’m working on it.”

Graham’s back hits the wall of my favorite room. I slide a hand to his throat and claim his pouty mouth with a reassuring kiss, a grateful kiss. It’s the one I should’ve given him the day he surprised me with this wonderful gift. He moans, grabbing my waist to pull me closer and accept my gratitude.

The room never had value simply because it was mine. Graham had thought of every detail. He knew exactly what I would’ve chosen without me saying so. Despite what he thinks now, the gifting of this room wasn’t a selfish act. It had been an honest expression of love.

We settle into the kiss, deepen it. And I nearly get lost in it before wrenching my lips from his addicting ones, panting against his mouth. “We need to leave, or you’ll miss your flight.”

Minutes later, we’re loaded in my car, about to pass through the iron gate when Graham snaps his fingers. “Hold up. I forgot something.”

With an exasperated huff, I shift the gear into Park. “Seriously? I should make you run back to the house.”

Two loud clicks sound out, almost simultaneous. Dumbfounded, I gawk as my seatbelt loosens and slides across my chest.

“What’s happening?” I ask.

Graham turns his hat backwards. “After you say yes, I’ll be choking on your dick.”

My voice pitches high. “In the driveway? We’re feet from the road. What if someone sees us? The paparazzi could⁠—”

He puts a finger to my lips. “You got a photo of us in matching underwear. It’s my turn to live out a fantasy.”

I assess our current position. We’re still on his property. Trees shield both sides of the remaining stretch of driveway leading to the road, and the gate in front of us is sliding closed. I shouldn’t even consider playing along, but my windows are tinted and I miss the magic of his mouth.

“We can’t do this here,” I say, fumbling for the control switch to move my seat back and give him room to work.

“Say it with a little more conviction.” With one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the back of my seat, he cages me in. His sharp teeth nip at my jaw, and my eyelids surrender, closing without my consent before his warm breath tickles my ear. “Tell me you aren’t dying to come down my throat, out in the open.”

Mama Mary, did I whimper? Out loud?

“Say yes, Miguel. Be daring with me one more time.”

“Yes!” I blurt.

He pops the button on my pants and lowers the zipper. Cool air hits my dick before his warm hand wraps around it. “I miss this,” he whispers, lowering his head to my lap.

I’m clutching the door and his shoulder when his tongue swirls around the tip. “We’re in public. This is public indecency.”

He sucks on the crown, and my legs tremble.

“Graham, you have to…oh my god…you have to…make it quick.” Taking me deeper, he moans. I place a hand on his head to control the rhythm. “Jesus, this is wrong.”

A celebrity’s bobbing on my cock in broad fucking daylight. We’d give any tabloid a wet dream of a headline if we were caught. Using my free hand, I shove my pants and briefs down farther. He cups my balls, rolling them the way I like. So I thrust, again and again, as he moans and slobbers all over me.

Tingles spread from the top of my head and tips of my toes, converging low in my gut. “Almost there. Choke on me, baby.”

I push his head down. He gags but doesn’t fight it because he knows what happens next—his favorite part.

My balls tighten, and I curl forward, voice straining. “Oh shit. I’m coming.”

His dramatic, hungry groan adds vibration while my cock pulses, spilling into his throat. Once I’m empty and lightheaded, I remove my hand from his head, and he returns to his side of the car, chest heaving.

All watery eyes and smug satisfaction, he squeezes his erection and licks his lips. “Yum.”

“You’re nuts.” I tuck myself away and fasten my pants. “You’ve actually lost your mind. We could’ve been caught.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t love the rush. And I’m past caring about getting caught.”