“You can load those in the back,” Daisy tells me, tapping a button on her keychain that opens the trunk between us. She flashes me a quick wink and a broad grin.
“Anyone ever tell you that smile of yours is gonna get you into trouble someday?” I reply as I hoist the bags of groceries into the trunk for her.
“Oh trust me, it already has.” She taps another button, and as the trunk starts to close, I follow her around the far side of the car, faced away from the store. “That is,” she adds, as we round the far side of the car, one hand of hers on the door handle, “if you really are trouble.” She glances over her shoulder at me. “Which I think you might be.”
I reach up to plant one hand on each side of her, pinning her between my arms as I grin down at her. “Me? All I did was bump into you. Which, I might add, I’ve already apologized for. Not to mention I carried your bags all the way out here, like a real gentleman.” I bend closer.
She tilts her face toward mine, until our lips are a breath apart. But those blue eyes of hers remain fixed on mine, as bright and defiant as ever. “You want a medal for doing the polite thing after colliding with a lady?” She smirks and lifts an eyebrow. “Anyway, you’re the one who started all the kissing, too.”
“You didn’t seem to mind,” I point out.
“Just because you’re good at kissing doesn’t mean the whole situation wasn’t your fault to start with.”
“So you’d rather I didn’t kiss you again.”
Her gaze drops to my mouth, almost on instinct. “I didn’t say that.”
“That’s a shame,” I reply. “Because I was really looking forward to tasting more of you than just those gorgeous lips.”
Her lips part slightly, revealing the perfect, lush curve of her lower lip as she breathes in once, hard. “Now you’re just teasing me,” she whispers.
“Not at all.” I straighten, and drop my arms, standing upright. “I don’t want to put you in an uncomfortable position.” I back away a step. “I only pursue women who are receptive to my charms.”
For a moment, she looks conflicted, like she’s warring with herself. Trying to resist something she doesn’t want to admit. But in the end, she reaches out to catch my hand, before I can back away any farther. “Believe me,” she says. “When I call you trouble, it’s not a bad thing.” With her free hand, she reaches behind her to open the back door of her car. She leaves it hanging open behind her like an invitation, as she curls her other hand around mine, her fingers winding between my own. “I love trouble. Especially when it comes in a package as fine as you.”
I raise an eyebrow and step toward her again, though I don’t make a move to touch her again. Not yet.
But when she moves to meet me, slides her arms up to my shoulders and whispers, “I want this,” that’s my cue.
I catch her around the waist and lift her easily—for all her curves, she doesn’t weigh much to me, perhaps because I’m so much taller and solidly built. She wraps her legs around my waist, obliging, and I step forward, moving until her ass collides with the back seat, which I lay her down along, my mouth finding hers to claim her once again.
We move slow, exploring. I take the time to savor every inch of her, running my hands along her sides, down to grip her ass and pull her farther into the car. She arches up against me, and I press down against her, my hips pinning hers to the back seat while my hands slide from her ass back up to her hips, and my lips shift to kiss along her jawline, down to the soft spot where her neck meets her shoulder. I nip at her skin gently, and she gasps and tightens her arms around me, twisting beneath me so she can trace her tongue along the edge of my earlobe. She bites lightly, and I draw back just far enough to grin at her.
“Naughty girl.”
“Me?” She bats her eyelashes. “I’m Southern, we can’t be naughty. Only good Christian girls or the kind who need to visit the confessional soon.”
“Hmm.” I reach up between us to undo the first two buttons of her blouse, and kiss my way down her cleavage, on full display thanks to the tightly-cinched bra she’s wearing, one of the pushup kind that give her perfect tits every advantage. Not that she needs the help. I thumb her nipple through the fabric of the bra, as I kiss, suck and nip my way over the top of her chest. “Well, I’ll give you plenty of sins to confess to next Sunday, in that case.”
“Promises, promises,” she whispers, but the breathy gasp in her voice when I gently pinch her nipple between my thumb and forefinger, makes the tease a little less convincing.
I grin, enjoying the effect I have on her. It’s only fair. She’s got me harder than I’ve ever been. I finish undoing her blouse and let it fall on the seat below her, running both hands over her chest now, gently squeezing her breasts, kneading them through her bra. Her eyelids flutter closed, and I reach around to undo the bra clasp. That makes her eyes snap back open again, and she darts a gaze backward over her head, toward the window.
“Relax,” I murmur, leaning down to kiss her perfect tits. I wasn’t wrong. She doesn’t even need the pushup help. Her breasts are perfect handfuls, perky and round all on their own. Her nipples are already swollen and halfway hard, getting more so as I reach down to cup one breast in my palm while I circle my tongue around her other nipple, enjoying the pebbly feeling beneath my tongue, and the sound of her breath coming faster and shorter in her throat. “Nobody’s looking,” I add in a whisper, my breath hot where her chest is wet from my tongue. I pause, then grin. “Unless you’re worried about those two old ladies from out front following us to scold us again.”
“Fuck them,” Daisy replies, grabbing my head and pulling me back toward her breast.
With a smirk, I comply, and suck her nipple into my mouth. I clamp my lips around her, roll the hard nub of her nipple with my tongue, and while I keep massaging her other breast with one hand, with my free one, I trace down over the flat, smooth plane of her stomach to her hips, then lower.
“God, you have perfect tits,” I murmur against said tits, before I trail my tongue over to her other breast, switching sides.
She arches up into me, gasping, and her hands grab fistfuls of my shirt as she tries to tug it over my head. I pull back just far enough to let her, and I’m rewarded with a faint gasp, and the sight of her eyes widening as she takes in my chest and my abs.
“Damn, Bronson.” She smiles a little, appreciatively, as she runs her fingertips over my stomach. “Who knew you were hiding so much treasure under there.”
I reach down to catch the hem of her skirt in my fist. “Speaking of hidden treasures.”
Her eyes flash with desire as I pull her skirt up between us. Then she hesitates, biting her lip. “Should we…?” Her gaze darts past me to the door.
I sit upright, which makes her mouth form a little pout of disappointment. But I only reach back to pull the door shut behind me, pinning us both in the car, and then I lay back down along her. Luckily the car is wide enough we both fit in pretty easily, and there’s something so hot about it, feeling as illicit as fucking teenagers, out here in broad daylight stripping down this sexy as hell woman in the back of her own car.
“Have I mentioned you’re fucking gorgeous, Daisy?” I ask as I finish pushing her skirt up around her waist. I run my hands over her hips, hooking my thumbs under the thin fabric of her skimpy panties. I toy with them, tugging them down half an inch and then back up, stroking my thumb across the mound of her pussy, careful not to press to hard, yet.
She bucks up against my hand, her eyes and hands still glued to my abs. “You’re not too hard to look at yourself, y’know.”
I trace my hand across her pussy again, and savor the way her eyelids flutter half-shut, and her lips parts, just a little, in a faint gasp. “I don’t want to just look, though,” I murmur, as I kiss the underside of her breasts, one at a time, and then trace my tongue down that sexy little dip between them, and follow its trail down, down toward her belly, making sure to drag my teeth lightly across her skin as I move, makin
g her shiver and gasp again.
“What… do you want, then?” she manages to murmur, her breath hitching with every inch I move closer to her hips.
I dip my tongue into the divot of her navel, curl the tip to flick it against her belly button, and she shifts underneath me, straining her hips higher with want. I love watching her, love knowing that I’m making her react like this. “What do I want?” I repeat, mostly to drag out the moment, as I slide my hands around her backside to grip her pert, perfect ass and lift her closer to me.
I bend down to kiss my way down the baby-soft skin between her navel and the top of her panties. Once there, I drag my tongue along the edge of her panties, until she’s practically panting.