“Fuck,” I groan as I kiss between her breasts. “Why are you so goddamn sweet?”
She laughs. “I thought I was salty.”
“Changed my mind, Dirty Laundry. You’re sweet and it’s going to give me a damn cavity.” I jerk on her jeans, drawing them to her midthighs before they meet resistance from being parted. “Too many clothes, woman. I need you naked.”
Her breath hitches when my fingers tease her pussy. So wet and dripping with sweet need. I’m dying of a thirst only she can quench.
“L-Let me see your eyes,” she breathes.
I angle my head up to look at her as my finger enters her body. She gasps and a tremble quakes through her.
“You like it when I fuck you with my fingers?” I ask, lifting a brow. “Need more?”
“Y-Yes.”
Another finger easily slides inside her. And then a third. If she’s going to take my cock, her cunt needs to be able to take more than three fingers. Slowly, I gently fuck her tight-as-sin hole, stretching her so she’ll accommodate my cock. I’m hung and her probably-virgin pussy needs working up to it.
I suck on her tit, my eyes still on hers. She bites on her split bottom lip, hooded gaze boring into me. My mouth isn’t gentle as I bruise her tits, but I’m careful with her pussy. I want it to feel good for her. I want to make her come before I even get the condom on my dick.
“That’s my girl,” I croon against her wet nipple. “Come all over my fingers.”
With each deep dive of my fingers, I rub my thumb over her clit. Her breaths come out sharp and fast until I don’t think she’s breathing at all.
“Ford!”
Sparrow. I’m Sparrow. Not fucking Ford.
Her slick juices run down over my fingers as her body spasms. She’s so fucking hot coming on my fingers. I can’t even begin to imagine what she’d look like stretched around my cock. She rides out her orgasm until she’s spent and boneless. I slip my fingers from her body. Grabbing onto her hips, I twist her around and press her chest against the steering wheel.
She’s quiet, aside from her heavy breathing, waiting for me to get us into position. I fumble with my jeans until I’ve pulled my cock out.
Condom.
I need a condom.
But I just want to feel her slick pussy against my flesh before I pull a rubber on.
Hooking my arm around her stomach, I pull her back into my lap. My cock slides between her thighs, rubbing at her wetness. We both groan at the sensation of how it feels. Her hips rock back and forth. Fuck, it feels amazing.
Her body angles forward, like she’s begging for me to penetrate her. I grip my cock and obey her. She cries out as my fat cock presses into her impossibly tight body.
“Oh my God,” she hisses.
We’re both drenched in sweat. This car sex is fucking annoying, but I want her too badly to figure out better arrangements. Pressing my palm on her lower stomach, I lift my hips. I can feel my cock inside her, pushing against my hand.
I fill her to the brim.
Stretch her to the max.
I manage a hard thrust that has her crying out when we hear it.
Ringing. Over and over.
Her whole body freezes, turning ice cold.
It’s her phone.
“Don’t answer it,” I mumble, biting her shoulder and then neck. “We’re busy.”
She moans when she reaches to grab it from the seat and I chase her ass with a hard thrust. I’m undeterred, picking up my pace, trying to remind myself to pull out since I skipped right over the condom like a dumbass.
“Ford, stop,” she hisses. “Oh my God.”
“What?”
“It’s my dad!”
The ringing stops and then a text pops up.
Dad: Pick up your phone. I know you’re not at school.
It starts ringing again. She completely shuts down. Stares at the phone in shock, no longer present in our fucking. Jesus Christ.
Sliding her off my throbbing dick, I twist her toward me so I can hold her. Her skin, which was just hot and sweaty, feels cold to the touch.
“I have to answer. I have to answer. I have to answer.”
Her chants are almost robotic sounding.
“Don’t answer it,” I tell her firmly. “You can call him back.”
But, with each furious text and incessant call, she starts losing her shit. She scrambles away from me, hurrying to throw her clothes on as quickly as she can. I look like a horny douchebag with my wet dick practically crying to get back to fucking.
That’s not happening.
Ignoring the painful blue balls, I manage to put my dick back in my jeans while she does the one thing I told her not to.
She answers the damn phone.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Landry
“Oh, hey, Dad.”
Be calm. Be calm. Be freaking calm.
His silence may as well be screaming. I can feel the unspoken wrath battering against me like the force of a hurricane. What makes it worse is Ford is watching me, his face twisted in concern. I’m standing between two sides of my life, unsure what to do or how to behave. The fear of my father wins out and I attempt to smooth things over with him.