I clench around him, just to tease, and his eyes flutter shut as a low groan tears from his throat. His hands flex on my hips hard enough to leave marks, and I can’t help the giggle that escapes.
“Keep me inside you like that. Hold me there.”
“You know I have to move at some point,” I murmur, breathless and completely fucked out.
“Soon,” he says, pressing his face against my chest and nuzzling into the soft fabric of my dress like he’s trying to melt into me. “God, you smell so good.”
“All I can smell is sex.”
“Fucking beautiful, isn’t it?”
I laugh, brushing my fingers through his sweat-damp hair. “You know we’re dangerously close to becoming one of those couples who ditch everyone just to be alone together?”
“Kinda okay with that, darlin’,” he says with a lazy grin, eyes still closed as he breathes me in. “But I know your sister will have my ass if I steal you away all night.”
“Are you scared of Violet?”
“Yeah, and I’m perfectly fine admitting that.” We both laugh and spend the next few minutes kissing and touching, knowing the second we’re back in that bar, we’ll have to keep our hands to ourselves like actual adults.
A sudden knock on the window scares the ever-loving shit out of me. I jump, let out an embarrassing squeak, and instantly try to cover myself, even though the only thing on display is my bare thighs.
“Who the hell is that?” I whisper-shriek, burying my face in Christian’s neck like it’ll shield me from the sheer mortification of whatever’s coming next.
Christian rolls his window down just enough to let in air, and I hear a voice that makes me wish I’d died during my orgasm.
“When you’re finished, Christian, any chance you wanna come hang out with your baby brother for a while?”
Colton goddamn Crawford.
“Oh, and it’s nice to finally meet you, Piper.”
I’m dead. I’m done. This is it. This moment has emotional damage written all over it.
Universe, take me now, because why the hell has Colton Crawford been sent to witness me in this truck, post-banging his brother? My ex-boyfriend’s dad?
Life doesn’t get worse than this.
But all the bastard who’s still literally inside me does is laugh—fucking laughs—before he speaks.
“Be five minutes, Colt.”
He rolls the window back up and cups my face in both hands, trying to calm me down like I’m not on the verge of dying from sheer embarrassment.
“You okay, darlin’?”
“Do I look okay?”
“Nope.” He laughs again, and now I’m ready to slap him into next week.
“It’s Colton Crawford, Christian! Do you even know how excited I was to meet him? I was supposed to be cute and wholesome and not freshly fucked in your goddamn truck!”
“Should I feel offended that you’re saying this while I’m still inside you?” He laughs again, and I can’t help but join in because this situation is so ridiculous, it’s either laugh or never show my face again. “You are so lucky I’m too mortified to punch you.”
He just shrugs, smug as hell. “You’re too thoroughly fucked to land a good hit anyway.”
“Oh my god, what’s he gonna think?” I groan, covering my face with both hands. “Just take me home. I need to be alone. Preferably somewhere I can drown myself in shame.”
“He’s gonna think he’s about to meet the woman his brother’s crazy about. All Colt wants is my happiness. Besides,”—Christian grins like the smug bastard he is—“the kid’s twenty-seven, so he’ll probably high-five you for railing me in my truck.”
