Page 66 of After We Fall (After We Fall 2)
I thought for a second. “Like what kind of fight?”
“A fight. Where punches are thrown.”
“Punches, huh? Not scones?”
“What?” He glanced at me. “What the hell are you talking about?”
I started to laugh. “My weasel ex came over a couple weeks ago at two AM and proposed to me. I can’t even believe it now, but I sort of said I’d think about it. The very next night, he and his stupid girlfriend showed up to a fundraiser for my father’s campaign, and she was wearing the very diamond ring he’d proposed with. He’d gone right from my house to hers.”
“That is fucked up.”
“Yeah. Come to find out, his father said he had to quit dicking around with his life and get serious, and I guess getting married would show he was serious. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t inherit his trust fund, which he needs to pay off gambling debts.”
“Man.” Jack shook his head. “Guess having money doesn’t solve your problems.”
“Nope. Anyway, I was so mad that night at the fundraiser that I started screaming at him and throwing scones.”
He looked at me. “Scones? That was the best you could do? There wasn’t a vase or something? In movies, rich people throw vases around.”
I slapped his bare arm. “I knocked over a vase. Does that count? Oh! I also accidentally set fire to a table cloth.”
Jack shook his head again, but he was grinning. “Did you ever hit the target?”
“Once or twice.”
“How many scones did you throw?”
I shrugged. “Maybe a dozen or so?”
The grin widened. “Hopeless. And it doesn’t count as a fight.”
Sighing, I reached behind my back and unclasped my bra. It dangled off my arms a moment while I looked around. We were on a rural highway that wasn’t well lit, and I hadn’t seen a lot of other cars, but still. I could just hear my mother saying Thurber women do not disrobe in moving vehicles.
“Well, come on, city girl. Show me what you’ve got.”
I slipped off the bra. Struck a sex kitten pose. “Happy?”
A quick glance my way, and he frowned. “Oh, fuck. I didn’t think this through. I don’t know if I can drive with you naked.”
“Ha! Should have thought of that before you started this little game.”
Next thing I knew, Jack slowed the truck and made a sharp right turn down a narrow dirt road between two fields. He switched off the car, and everything went dark and silent. “Come here.”
But before I could move, he slid toward me on the seat and flipped me onto his lap, my legs on either side of his thighs. Our mouths crashed together as his hands snaked down my back. He grabbed my ass and pulled me against the bulge in h
is jeans. I rocked my hips over him, feeling my panties go damp.
My hands moved over his chest and arms and abs, my head filled with the scent of him. I felt drunk with the idea of him, of us, of doing this crazy, spontaneous, probably illegal, definitely ill-advised thing on someone else’s property. We could be seen. We could be caught. We could get in trouble.
I’d never really been in trouble.
“My cock is so fucking hard.” He flexed his hips, lifting them off the seat.
“I love it.” Words I’d never uttered before tumbled out easily, breathlessly. “I want you to fuck me with it. Right here.” I reached for his belt.
Inside a minute I’d wiggled out of my panties and he’d shoved his jeans down just enough for his cock to spring free. I lowered myself onto it, watching his eyes close, feeling his fingers gripping my hips.
I felt powerful and solid and physical. I’d never been so aware of my body or felt so driven by its need. Never experienced hunger or thirst or exhaustion to the point where my body craved food, water, or sleep the way it craved to be filled by this man. Connected to him. Anchored by him.
