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that edge of honesty in his voice. That edge that had caught her attention from the moment he’d first spoken. And that’s when she realized, she didn’t want him to speak at all. She didn’t want to connect in that way—too intense. She just wanted to feel good physically for a while. And he felt good. “Shut up and kiss me.”
    He pushed the small of her back with a wide palm so she was forced closer. She could make out his head, tilted upwards towards her face. With unerring, impressive precision, his lips caught hers.
    Her brain shorted out. Yep. This was what she wanted. All she wanted. Just this touch. Lots and lots of this kind of touch.
    The car was like a bubble—the world, all her worries excluded from it. Only a very dim light from the capped streetlights pierced the tinted windows, bathing them in a magical kind of gloom, making other senses do the work.
    Touch, taste, scent, sound.
    Touch was supreme. Sublime.
    As they kissed, she worked her fingertips over his ultra-short hair, delighting in the soft-yet-roughness of it. Tracing the hard bones of his skull, down his cheekbones. Learning him in the dark. Speed and secrecy added an illicit flavor to the moment. She felt absolute certainty her need would be met.
    Secretly she was glad she couldn’t see into his eyes. He saw too much. And she didn’t want to be seen at this moment. She just wanted to be free to indulge. Free from judgment, from fear. Free from everything but the pleasure of physical closeness.
    Her fingertips coasted over him, down his neck, across his broad shoulders. His hands slid over her skin, up her skirt, seeking secret places. The most sensitive. Up and down the soft skin of her inner thighs.
    And all the while he kissed her. Long, sweeping, erotic, indulgence kisses. The kind she’d never had before. The kind she couldn’t get enough of now, lingering and lush. Their lips sealed and broke and resealed. His tongue swirled within her mouth—alternating between smooth strokes and teasing swipes with a deliciously unpredictable rhythm.
    Her impatience and need grew. Urgency . She slid his jersey up with fast fingers. He lifted his arms to she could remove it entirely. To her delight he wore nothing beneath. She leaned in and breathed. And touched—silken skin over solid-packed muscle. She reveled in the way those muscles moved beneath her. She tracked a finger through the light dusting of hair. She bent, rubbing her jaw against it. But only for a moment before sitting up and kissing him again. She needed as many of those kisses as she could get tonight. And as she kissed him, she danced her hips over his, writhing, rocking closer. Harder. Riding him. His erection bulged large and hard through his jeans. She needed him inside her. She needed that emptiness filled. She rocked harder, faster, rougher, more than halfway there already.  
    “You want it,” he rasped.
    “Now.” She confirmed.
    “Come first.”
    “No. Fuck me.” She muttered breathlessly, brutally, shockingly blunt. “Now.”
    “Soon, Sugar.”
    “Now.”
    He grabbed her hands, stopping her from forcing open his fly. He kissed her hard and deep. Then he pulled back with such a jerk he banged his head on the headrest behind him.
    “I want to make you come. Want to see you come. Hear you come,” he muttered. “Want to feel you around me. Hot and wet.”
    She was already both. She rubbed up and down his thighs, over his cock, eager to ease the ache tormenting her. So close to release. Needing more. “Take. Me. Now.”
    “You want it hard?” He cupped her chin and lifted her face back from him, as if trying to see into her eyes.  
    She wanted it anyway he’d give it. She just wanted it now. “Hurry.” She ground down on him again.
    “This is your party, Sugarlips. Tell me. Or show me.” He kissed her, his stubble rasping, almost bruising.  
      Right now all she wanted were those kisses. Her mouth was so hungry for them, her mind lost. There was no