Heaven, Texas (Chicago Stars #2)(77)

As she settled on top of him, she felt him, hard and rigid, trying to push into her right through his jeans and her shorts. “Did I do that to you?” she whispered against his lips.

“About three hours ago,” he murmured.

With a shiver of pleasure, she settled down in his lap. Rubbing her hips against him, she took his mouth.

“Stop,” he moaned.

“You’re the one who wanted to play games,” she reminded him, speaking against his parted lips.

“Sometimes I’m too much of a smart-ass for my own good. God, don’t do that!”

“Do what?” She again rocked her pelvis, wanting all the barriers between them gone.

He grabbed the hem of her top and shoved it up, taking her bra with it. Pushing her back until her shoulders rested against the dashboard, he exposed her breasts.

She let out a cry when he lifted her breast and took the nipple in his mouth. She dug her fingers into his shoulders as he suckled her. Her position, straddling him with her knees and leaning back against the dash, was awkward, but her body no longer belonged to her and the unfamiliar strain in her splayed thighs only added to her excitement. She felt the hot suction of his mouth, the throbbing between her legs, the dampness of his thin, worn T-shirt beneath her palms. He shoved his hands beneath her thighs, and his thumbs slid under the legs of her shorts.

Sitting back up, she reached for his T-shirt and pulled it from his jeans, then she fumbled between their bodies for the snap at the top of his strained zipper. It gave, and she worked at the zipper. He had already opened hers, and before she knew it, he had pushed her shorts down to the point where her spread thighs stretched the material too taut to go farther.

The rasp of their breathing filled the cab of the truck. She drew one leg back over his thighs until she was kneeling on the seat next to him and could work at his zipper with both hands. He stripped his T-shirt over his head, knocking the steering wheel with his elbow in the process so that the horn sounded. He cursed, and she dipped for one of his nipples with her mouth as she continued her struggle with the stubborn zipper.

The hard nub bumped her tongue. She abraded it, just as he had done to her, and felt his entire body go rigid.

The zipper gave.

He pushed her away from him just long enough to whip her top over her head and fling it behind the seat. Her bra followed, and she knelt next to him like a pixieish slattern, hair rumpled, a Super Bowl ring hanging between her bare breasts, her unfastened shorts low on her hips.

She gazed down at his open zipper. “It’s too dark,” she whispered. “I can’t see you.” She touched his belly with her fingertip.

“Do you want to see me?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Gracie…” He sounded as if he were struggling to breathe. “This seemed like a good idea, but things are going a little faster than I’d figured, and this truck is too damn small.” He gave the key a hard twist and shoved the truck into gear so abruptly she bumped against the door. The tires spit gravel as he shot backward, then reversed. The truck jolted over the hard-packed ground to the dark highway.

She reached behind the seat to grab for her top. He caught her arm before she could locate it. “Come here.” Without waiting for her permission, he pulled her down until she was lying on her back, her head on his thigh. Driving much too fast, he used his free hand to torment her breast.

The truck shot through the night as his fingers caressed her. Through the windshield, she could see the sky flying by and the tops of the trees. She hovered on the brink of something inexplicable, and when she could no longer bear his sweet torture, she turned her breasts against him.

The truck shot down the dark highway, and his open zipper scratched her cheek. She pressed her lips to his hard, flat belly and felt every muscle contract. He groaned and lifted her top thigh. His palm cupped her through her shorts. He moved the heel of his hand, and she began to fly.

“No, you don’t,” he whispered, pulling away. “Not this time. Not till I’m inside you.”

She careened to the edge of the seat as he swung into the drive that led to his house. A shower of gravel sprayed the side of the cab. He slammed on the brakes. Within seconds he’d turned off the ignition and jumped from the truck.

She was still searching behind the seat for her sweater when he opened the door. “You don’t need that.” He clasped her waist and pulled her out of the truck.

Even though the house was isolated and the yard deserted, she pressed her hands over her breasts as he drew her across the grass. She saw his grin in the dim reflection of the single light that burned on the porch and realized he looked very much as he had the first few days on the movie set, with his bare chest and unzipped jeans. The thud of his boots on the wooden porch steps drowned out the gentler tap of her sandals. He worked the key in the lock and, as the door opened, hauled her none-too-gently into the house.

He maneuvered her to the bedroom with an urgency that both thrilled and scared her. She loved knowing he wanted her, but she wasn’t at all certain she could satisfy him. She’d always been a bit clumsy at physical activities, and surely this was the most physical of all. Her eyes fastened on the Sleeping Beauty bed that dominated the room, and she swallowed hard.

“It’s too late for second thoughts, sweetheart. I’m afraid we passed the point of no return a good two weeks ago.” He sat down on the side of the bed and yanked off his boots and socks. His gaze meandered down to the white lace of her panties that showed through the open zipper of her shorts.