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touch me where I say, when I say and how I want.”
    “Okay.” Another set of rapid blinks from her and mixed emotions.
    He set her down and opened up the car. “Clothes go over there and then you go in here.” He pointed at the little spot on his work station that he kept clean in case the opportunity ever arose to have her out here.
    She shrugged out of her clothes while he put down the backseat of the car so it was gaping into the trunk.
    His attention was riveted on her since her skin looked creamy and yummy.
    Watering mouth.
    Tightening pants.
    Fingers flexing and aching for her.
    He tore his clothes off, and instead of turning the car on for music, he pulled out his iPhone, put it on the front seat and set the song on repeat that had started this whole mess.
    Her eyebrow arched up in question, and she paused.
    “Yes, we’re going to love each other while playing this song. I want it to make a good memory for me.” He reached for her. “And stop worrying about the kids. They’ll be fine. This won’t take long.”
    Her hesitation disappeared as she slid onto his lap.
    In the next breath, his lips were all over her body, and his hands dug into her hips.
    “I want you under me. I want you loud. Do that , and we can talk after.” He kissed her mouth.
    She nodded when he broke away. “Okay, sweetheart. Whatever you need.”
    “I need you to follow me.” He swapped spots with her, leaned her back so her face was in shadow from being in the empty trunk.
    It was odd that such a small thing should make him so sore and achy for her, but it did. This was forbidden, and he knew it.
    People didn’t do this. But he did.
    His pulse raced as he spread her legs and made love like he never had before.
    The music filled the car along with her panting breaths.
    His voice, his piano playing, along with his father’s deep tones, morphed into something more . . . Something better.
    It was his mixture of funky and serious. It was a cross between classic piano, a touch of jazz and hip hop. His father’s voice sounded amazing, and Adam’s was okay.
    It was the first time he was truly all right with jazz. He was learning to appreciate it.
    “Ohhhhhh, you sound insanely sexy,” she whispered as he nipped at her neck and kept touching her.
    “Shhhh . . . Just listen. Just breathe hard for me.” He gripped her behind the knees and kept reveling in the feel of her, thrusting harder, deeper, finding her special spot inside that made her very gushy and creamy for him.
    The darkness, the steaminess of her skin and ragged breaths was too much, though.
    He could feel it building too fast inside him. His balls were about bursting with his come, ready to move out of him and into her.
    “Can you get there? I need you to . . . I’m gonna . . . I have to,” he stammered.
    He entwined her fingers with his and locked them down by her head.
    Then he realized he wasn’t touching her, and she needed that.
    So, he let go with his right hand and sang along to the music to keep his mind occupied on the song so he wouldn’t come too fast. He brushed his fingers reverently over her swollen, sweet tissues. Her clitoris was really stiff and big, not to mention slippery and fun to tease.
    “I could fuck you like this forever—dip inside your wetness and see what it does to you. It’s what a man like me does to a woman like you. I taste you.” He shoved himself inside with a quick movement of his hips. “Taste you like you’re all I need.” He pulled back and did it again. “Touch your clit until you can’t take it anymore.” Once more with a jabbing lunge and quick penetration with his cock. “Make it hum with pleasure and force your insides to drip for me.”
    She moaned.
    “All those things are satisfying to me. They all make me sore and make my balls tight and achy for you.” He blew down her neck, then licked at the hollow of her throat, following it up with a humid pulse of his breath.
    “God, Adam,” she said, gripping his