Alice fumbled in her purse as they drew up next to her familiar Acura. Alex fidgeted uneasily from one foot to the other, casting furtive glances around the parking lot. Alice’s car was parked under a large tree, casting it into almost total darkness. Only the faintest glow from the single street lamp reached their position. Between the bad lighting and the tinted rear windows, there was a good chance no one would know what they were up to.
Once her keys were located, she hit the unlock button with a triumphant whoop. The click of the automatic tumblers sounded so loud, Alex’s heart thumped in response. He was, well, there was no pretending otherwise…he was nervous. Like a teenager who thought he might get to second base. Except Alice was signaling him to run all the way home like an overenthusiastic third-base coach.
He’d been hoping for a lucky single, and here he was with an unexpected home run.
“Alice, you know I’m just fucking around, right? I mean, you’ve been drinking.”
“So have you.”
“I know, but I don’t want to, like…force you into something you don’t want to do.”
“Do you see a gun to my head? No. Don’t say force, Alex, it sounds vulgar. I may be drunk, but I’m perfectly capable of deciding who gets access to my vagina.”
In spite of the fact she looked a little blurry-eyed—or maybe he was seeing things blurred—her voice was firm and a touch annoyed.
“Do I get access?”
“You want access?”
“Yes, please.”
She grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him towards her. He took two awkward steps, the unexpected imbalance making him wobbly, but her grip on his T-shirt kept him steady enough. His hands went to her waist, drawing her towards him. For a moment they stood, crushed against one another, their breaths falling in unison as they struggled to keep calm. His own lungs felt hot suddenly, like trying to run bases in Arizona at the height of summer.
Alice’s lips parted as she looked up to him, her eyes wide like she hadn’t realized what she was doing up until the instant it happened. He waited, a polite pause in case she wanted to change her mind, but when she grinned at him—a small flash showing the hint of a crooked canine tooth—he took the invitation.
He cupped her face in both hands, delicately as though it were china, and brushed his thumbs across her cheeks. She closed her eyes, yielding to his lightest touch as if it was the first time in a long time anyone had lavished any attention on her.
She let out a sigh, and it was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard a woman make.
He kissed her, and beyond the lingering smoky taste of the whiskey, there was a perfect, feminine flavor to her that went straight to his head faster than the alcohol. Her lips were soft and wet, and when he nipped the lower one, she melted into him, wrapping her arms around his back, her fingers digging into the well-worn cotton of his shirt.
Alice melted into him as though her salvation depended on it, like his lips could wake her from a Snow White or Sleeping Beauty-esque dream. She pushed him back against the car, going up on her tiptoes to get a better angle at his mouth. This time she kissed him, and the power of the exchange shifted to her. She was demanding, begging for more from him, from the kiss.
Alex dropped his hands from her face and slipped his thumbs inside the belt loops of her jeans, keeping her tethered to him. Her tongue grazed his, sending an electric thrill through him, his skin coming alive with a ferocious buzzing. He felt more awake than he ever had. With each kiss he got more focused, more sober. He was so present in the moment there was a good chance he might remember this night forever.
She was a hell of a kisser.
She tilted her head, deepening the kiss. He released her belt loops and cupped her ass, pressing her to him, the strain of his erection pinned between them.
“God,” she whispered against his open mouth. When she rocked her hips, he thought she might be out to kill him.
He fumbled for the door handle, unable to rationalize where it might be since he was too busy focusing on the wild attention of her mouth and her now-wandering hands. He found the handle the same moment she cupped his groin. He let out a moan that was equal parts triumph and torment.
Arching his back up but keeping her close, he managed to get the back door open. Alice’s fingers were busy undoing his belt, and her rush to have him undressed was putting him at risk of losing his cool. If she didn’t slow down, he’d be in a race to the finish before his fly was even unzipped.
Alice pushed him bac
kwards into the car, and he smacked his head on the doorframe, breaking away from their kiss to mutter, “Ow.” The faint possibility of having concussed him didn’t deter Alice’s forward momentum though. She climbed in after him, and as soon as he’d pulled his legs out of the way, she slammed the door.
The car was dark once the interior light was gone, and sitting in the late-evening sun had made the inside muggy. Alice pulled his shirt over his head, struggling to free his arms in the cramped space. He scuttled back until his head bumped against the opposite door.
This woman was going to kill him, but at least he’d die happy.
“Pants. Off.” She tugged at his belt, finally freeing it.
He abided her command and unzipped his fly, managing to get his jeans and boxers down as far as his thighs. It was the best he could do in the tiny space with a not-inconsequential amount of woman on top of him. Alice attempted to get his clothes lower, but between the two of them his pants were only getting as far as his knees.
“Condom?” she asked.