Page 86 of Mine After Midnight

‘I can’t get enough of you,’ he groans, combing his fingers through my hair with enough force to pull my head backwards. ‘You can’t leave. Not again.’

‘I think I have a reason to stay,’ I whisper.

He gazes at me with adoration and devotion – everything I’ve always wanted from him.

His mouth crashes into mine again, hot and desperate. My back hits the side of his truck with a dull thud, the metal cold against the bare skin on the backs of my arms. His body boxes me in. One hand tugs lightly on my hair, tilting my head back to deepen the kiss. The other slides down my waist, gripping it hard enough to leave bruises in the shape of his fingers.

The music from the party is still pounding, laughter carries on the wind, and a car door slams somewhere nearby – clear reminders we are not hidden, and certainly not being subtle. But still he kisses me like there’s no one else on this planet, and I moan into his mouth, desperate for more. I drag him closer by his shirt, rising onto my toes as he bends further forward. My mouth moves against his, our tongues clashing. He groans, the sound almost swallowed by the bass thudding from the house. His hand slides around the back of my thigh, lifting it slightly and pressing me more firmly against his truck.

‘Ash,’ I gasp against his mouth. My fingers dig into his shoulders. ‘We’re not alone,’ I breathe, even as I pull him toward me. He glances toward the house for half a second. The front door is still wide open, and people move in and out. If anyone looks down the driveway, they’ll see us. His grip only tightens further.

‘Let them look,’ he says, his voice rough. ‘They can enjoy the show.’

Heat floods my veins. This is reckless. We are in public. His mouth trails down my jaw to the sensitive spot just below my ear. I gasp again, louder this time, and panic flares inside me because someone could hear.

‘Ash,’ I warn, but it comes out breathless. His teeth graze my skin, not enough to hurt, but just enough to remind me he could.

‘You think I care if they see?’ he murmurs against my neck. ‘You think I care if they know?’

A burst of laughter erupts from the porch. Footsteps sound down the driveway for a second before disappearing. We are close enough to the party to be caught, but I don’t push Ash away. Instead, I tug his face back up to mine and kiss him harder. I don’t want to admit that I like being chosen in this way, out in the open, without apology. His hands roam over me like they’re reacquainting themselves with something sacred and dangerous. They move over my waist, up my ribs, and back into my hair. He kisses me like he’s staking a claim, but there’s no cruelty in it. Finally, he pulls back, breathing hard.

The party lights flicker behind him, and shadows move across the windows as the music still blares. His forehead rests against mine, his chest rising and falling in sync with my breathing. Ash’s eyes flick past me toward the house, calculating. His hand slides from my waist to my wrist.

‘Get in the truck,’ he demands, voice firm and controlled in that sexy, dominant way of his.

‘You don’t get to order me around,’ I say automatically, even though I like it and he knows it. He knows me better than I know myself.

‘Then consider it an invitation.’

Another eruption of laughter echoes down the driveway. Someone calls Elodie’s name. I glance toward the house, then back at him.

‘Fine,’ I breathe.

He opens the passenger door without breaking eye contact. I slide into the seat. The interior light turns on, bathing us in a golden glow. He sits in the driver’s seat and then pats his lap. I climb over. His car is exactly what I expected: sleek, with blacked out windows, understated in a way that screams expensive. The leather seats are smooth and dark. The dashboard glows with red lights against matte black finishes.

The door shuts with a solid thud, cutting the party noise down to a low hum. Bass still pulses faintly through the closed door, but in here it feels distant. The car smells like leather and something darker: his cologne. It’s subtle and intoxicating but not overpowering. It’s unmistakably him. My body reacts before my thoughts do, with a slow, involuntary inhale.

He leans back in the driver’s seat, one hand loose on the steering wheel, watching me like he knows exactly what the scent is doing to me.

The interior light dims, leaving us in darkness lit only by the dashboard and the occasional sweep of headlights passing at the end of the street. Ash studies me for a long moment.

‘You’re shaking again,’ he says softly.

‘I’m not.’

His gaze drops to my hands in my lap. There is no denying they’re trembling. He reaches for them, lacing his fingers through mine, holding me gently instead of gripping me this time. His free hand comes up to brush a strand of hair away from my face. His fingers trail from my temple down to my jaw, brushing the corner of my mouth. He moves his hand to caress my hip through the fabric of my dress.

People are right there; anyone could walk past the truck. But my heart is pounding for an entirely different reason now. I shift, rolling my hips back, and he strokes across the thin fabric of my underwear.

‘Absolutely soaked, as I suspected,’ Ash drawls.

A flush climbs up my cheeks. Pushing my underwear to the side, he inserts a finger inside me. He dips in and out, curling his fingers and hitting the exact point he knows will get a reaction. Moaning, I grind shamelessly onto his hand. He pushes himself up, and I help him pull down his pants as he pushes up my dress. He drags his tongue across his lower lip as he gazes at my lacy underpants, inching them down my thighs.

‘These are hot,’ he comments, wrapping the lace around his fingers as he admires them, before tossing them to the back seat.

He adjusts me once more, and I settle over him and gasp as he pushes inside me, filling and stretching me to the point I need to grip the seat. He thrusts up into me, and I cry out with a mixture of shock and pleasure. I continue grinding, matching his movements. The truck shakes as his thrusts grow harder and rougher, making me moan. Pulling the top of my dress down, he palms my breasts before they bounce out of my bra. He massages them, playing with my nipples, his eyes fixated on them as I begin thrusting back. I’m so caught up in him, I no longer care that people around us might see.

His big, strong hands tighten their hold as he relentlessly thrusts into me. The combination of his movements and the friction between us has me coming undone quicker than I care to admit. His name leaves my lips as I reach my climax, and he orgasms at the same time. I slump forward, my forehead sweaty, pressing into the side of his face. He hugs me to him, breathing hard.