Friction(67)

“You’re shivering,” he points out, his voice a low seductive growl. He pulls up to the gate in front of Mr. B’s sprawling house and turns to me. “Am I making you nervous?”

“I'm not nervous, I'm just—” He immediately cuts me off by giving my thigh a sharp slap that reverberates through me, sending a tight pulse to the juncture of my thighs.

“That, Lucy,” he says with a cocky grin, “feels like a shiver to me. But if you’d like, I’ll be happy to test my theory that I can make you come from right where you’re sitting before we go inside. And I promise you, you won’t be able to pretend you’re not shivering by the time I’m through with you.”

I’m sure I won’t, and that’s the worst part about it. There’s a part of me that’s willing to spread my legs open for him right here, right now, and I wouldn’t give a damn who saw. While he announces our presence in the intercom by the gate, I take the opportunity to catch my breath. Flipping down the visor to examine myself in the mirror, I press my palms to my pink cheeks in the hope that my flush will disappear before we go inside.

“You’re very, very quiet,” Jace points out as the gate swings open.

“And you’re dirty.” He moves his dark head up and down in agreement. “Actually, you’re just plain nasty.”

“I’m not denying a fucking thing and neither should you because you like it.” His fingers stroke a path along my skin as they trail up my thigh. He doesn’t stop until he’s a centimeter from the center of my panties. He makes a strangled noise. “Your cunt is so warm. So ready. I want to see you come.”

“You should focus on seeing the driveway before you mow down a car.” Tsking at me, he skims his knuckles over the scrap of lace covering my sex. I can’t help but feel a little smug when it affects him, and he sucks in a breath through his straight white teeth.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he breathes. “There's barely anything there.” As he guides his Challenger up the driveway to Mr. B’s mansion, I allow a smile touch my lips.

“It’s better than going commando.” He looks at me with a wicked gleam in his eyes, and I swallow hard. Shit, what the hell have I just wiggled myself into?

“Not at all,” he drawls, and his voice takes me to paradise. I swear I can listen to this man speak all day and he would never lose my attention. Parking his car, he extends his free hand toward me and crooks his long fingers. “Give me your panties, Lucy.”

I clench my knees together. It doesn’t do much to help because he’s already laid claim to what’s right between them. He drums his fingers impatiently against the outside of the lace.

“Why?” I demand. Intense blue-gray eyes clash with mine, and when I don’t budge to oblige him, he shoves my panties to the side and circles his middle and index fingers roughly around my clit. My head falls back against the headrest behind it, and I arch my back, sinking my teeth into my bottom lip to hold back my moan.

“So that whenever I look at you tonight,” he starts, and steals the breath from my lungs when he gives my sex a stinging slap with his fingertips, “I can imagine you coming, screaming my name, looking at me the same way you're doing right now.”

“And how is that?” I demand between pants as his fingers pick up speed. He doesn’t even try to slip them inside of me, but then again, he doesn’t have to. He has me right where he wants me, and it’s exhilarating and breathtaking and just a little scary.

I grip the center console and the door handle, my toes curling inside of my black satin pumps. A few feet away from where Jace is teasing my body into a state of pure bliss, a couple walks up the steps to B’s front door. For a moment, I startle, terrified that they might see us. Might see my head thrashing from side to side and the flush of my skin.

But as I try to pull away, Jace stills me. He dips his mouth to my ear and growls, “They’re not paying you a goddamn bit of attention, Lucy, so let go.” Then, lightly brushing the tip of his thumb nail across my clit, he takes away my ability to fear, to overthink. The orgasm hits me rough and hard, leaving me unable to form a coherent sentence.

Jace gazes down at me and shakes his head incredulously. “You do that so fast, love,” he murmurs.

“You do that so fast, love.” Even though I know his statement about how quickly I climax isn’t an insult, my thoughts instantly ping to my ex’s parting words about my future with a man like Jace. And shame pours through me because Carter had pointed out how lacking I am in bed. Now, I’m wondering if Jace thinks the same. Because I want to please the man sitting next to me, I want him to close his eyes and think of me as the woman who rocked his world, the one he can’t get enough of.

Not the fuck buddy who gets off in five minutes flat.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he demands, thinning his slate blue eyes.

“I … come in literally seconds,” I admit. I run my tongue over my lips and shift uncomfortably in my seat. “You've been with women who can probably last all night, and you wear me out after a couple rounds.”

He arches an eyebrow, his expression hovering between amused and utterly confused. “Are you giving me shit for fucking you well, love?”

“No. Ugh, yes. It’s just something my ex-husband said when he showed up to my mother’s house.” His features darken at the mention of Carter. “It’s … it’s nothing.” I scrub my hands over my face, but he catches them in his, turning my palms up towards his mouth. He kisses the inside of each wrist, his lips soft and unhurried.