There it was. The green light I’d been praying for since I laid eyes on her.
“Your place or mine?” I gritted out the words, practically tasting her pussy on my tongue already.
“Mine. In case you’re a serial killer. Don’t want to give you the advantage of your kill room. Gotta provide a challenge.” Even lost to lust, her spunky personality shone through.
“Solid decision. You have a car here?” No way in hell was I letting her drive, even if we were going to her place.
“No. I was planning on ordering a car home.”
That was actually ideal. I could ride home with her and then return to collect my car in the morning. If she saw my flashy sports car, she might figure out I was more than just some white-collar dude working in middle management. I couldn’t afford to fuck this up.
“Great. Me too.”
Putting space between us, she reached into her back pocket and produced a phone. “I’ll order it.” She was protecting herself, and I could respect that. I didn’t bother pointing out that as soon as we got to her place, I could pull up the map app on my own phone and know exactly where she lived.
Tapping her fingers on the smooth screen, she busied herself in whatever rideshare app she preferred while I signaled for the check. The waitress brought both mine and my date’s—if you could call her that—from whatever she’d consumed before I joined her, and I handed over my black card, telling her I would cover it all.
By the time I had my receipt in hand, my feisty redhead was ready to go, declaring the car was right outside. Now, I could only pray it was dark enough that whatever driver working at this ungodly hour wouldn’t recognize me.
We pushed through the bar’s entrance and into the muggy September evening. The temperature had dropped from earlier, but the humidity remained. A white sedan was parked out front, but the girl tucked into my side motioned for me to wait as she confirmed quietly with the driver that it was indeed her ride.
Damn, she really doesn’t want me to know her name.
Crooking a finger, she beckoned me to the car. Opening the door to the backseat, I allowed her to climb in first, sliding in behind and sealing us inside. The car rolled away from Pipes, and not caring that we had an audience, I made out with her in the back like a horny teenager until we came to a stop outside a cute little ranch-style home somewhere in the suburbs.
Not sparing our driver more than a muttered “Thanks,” I helped her out of the vehicle before hoisting her into my arms. My bad knee alone might not be able to hold my full weight, but with both legs working together, it was no issue to carry her slight frame.
Crossing the distance to the house, I pressed her against the front door. Our lips were locked, and with her legs thrown around my waist, I ground my erection into her open core. She gasped, clawing at my shoulders, trying to get closer as her heels dug into my lower back.
Tearing her mouth away, she uttered a single word. “Keys.”
Shifting her in my arms, I allowed her to reach into her front pocket and produce the brass key. I snatched it from her fingers, unlocking the door. Clearing the threshold, I kicked it closed behind us before rasping out, “Bedroom.”
Understanding dawned, and she pointed down a single hallway past the kitchen. My enormous strides ate up the space quickly, but even with the hot little redhead in my arms, I noticed boxes littering the space.
“You just move in?” I questioned.
Grabbing two fistfuls of my hair as we stepped into her bedroom, she maneuvered my head so I was staring directly into her beautiful blue eyes. “You wanna talk, or you wanna fuck?”
Well, when she put it like that . . .
“Fuck. Definitely fuck,” I replied.
“Good answer.”
Reaching the edge of the bed, I threw her onto it, delighting in the squeal she let out when she bounced.
If she wanted to fuck, then I was more than ready.
Gripping the hem of my T-shirt, I pulled it over my head. Her breathy moan when she caught sight of my chest and abs had me tensing them for maximum impact. This girl made me feel alive, like I wasn’t some broken toy no one wanted to play with anymore, cast off to the side.
She sat up on the bed and tugged her tank top from where it was tucked into her skintight jeans. Peeling it off, she revealed the perfect handfuls of her breasts, barely concealed in black lace, as her chest heaved.
It would seem we were in the midst of a little game of tit-for-tat, so I kicked off my shoes and slid the jeans down my thighs, discarding them once they reached my ankles. Her shaky hands undid the button at her fly,and she shifted her hips to ease the fabric down her toned legs, frowning when her jeans got caught up on the ankle boots she’d forgotten to remove.
A husky chuckle rose from my chest, and I stepped forward. “Allow me.”
Sliding the zippers down on each boot, I eased them off her feet before tugging her jeans the rest of the way off. Stepping back once more, I drank in the view. The black lace lingerie served as a sharp contrast to her pale skin, which was flushed pink from head to toe.
