One side of his mouth kicked up as he grabbed my hips to lift me into the seat. A spark of heat shot straight through me, and I gasped.
He wedged himself between my legs before I could turn in my seat to face forward, his eyes on my open mouth. “I enjoy getting my hands on you any way I can. If I get that reaction every time I lift you into this dumbass truck, I’m driving it to work from now on.”
“Get real, Phantom.”
He rubbed his hard length against me, and my nipples tightened. “I’m the most real thing you’re ever going to have between your legs again, woman.”
He grabbed my jaw and devoured me. I clawed at his shirt and pulled him closer, needing the taste of him more than I’d needed anything in days. My body hummed for him, was becoming attuned to him and starting to thirst for him like it did for water. I drank in as much as I could as fast as I could before I pulled back to catch my breath. “We’re in the workplace.”
He murmured, “My workplace,” before diving in again and pulling at the bottom of my dark green top. Then his hands were on my skin and my pussy clenched, so wet and ready to have him in me again. “I swear you’re trying to drive me insane with these outfits,” he mumbled as he worked at a tie that cinched my waist in to form an hourglass figure.
“It’s conservative and very work appropriate.”
“It’s a fucking maze to get off you and looks like porn for the guys at work. Stevie stared at you all damn day,” he growled into my neck as he focused on undoing the knot at the side of my top.
“Steve can stare all he likes, Jett, as can most men, if it helps get them through the day.” I shrugged.
Jett’s head whipped up from my neck. “Victory,”—his jaw popped and the stare he gave me held warning—“those men don’t get to eye fuck you on company time. Especially not when it’s mycompany.”
I didn’t know if he was madder about them doing it to me or doing it on his company time.
Another car beeped, signaling someone else was in the garage with us. Jett’s hands went to my thighs and his head dropped like he was trying to pull it together.
“Guess party time is up,” I said, teasing him because he started the party thinking he’d be able to finish it.
“Give me a minute,” he grumbled under his breath.
I leaned forward and rubbed my legs against his as I breathed into his neck, “That all it takes, big man?”
“You’re a devil wrapped in intoxicating clothing, woman.” He stepped back and pushed my legs over to face the front. Then the passenger door was slammed a little harder than I’m sure it would have been on any other day.
We drove to my apartment where I teased him about the fuel economy of the massive truck he claimed was logical.
He teased me about it being very logical with all the shit I had to bring. Which was only three suitcases. Two of which were tiny ones. In my defense, I didn’t know what to expect of the holiday so different clothes for different possibilities was warranted.
The drive to the Stonewoods’ home only took two hours as Jett navigated around the city traffic and had a toll pass.
“This is Greenville,” he announced as we passed a large carved wood sign that read Welcome to Greenville, Population 5,439.
“Small town,” I said while taking in the widened and curved roads where the speed limit had dropped to twenty five. Admiring the backdrop of red-leaved maple trees and rolling hills of green grass, I wondered if he missed this lifestyle.
He pushed the button that controlled the windows, lowering them to let the autumn wind whip in. His elbow popped out right as the top of the window reached the door. A smile stretched across his face, the most genuine one I’d ever seen on him. “Yup, so small that every damn person is up your ass all day every day.”
“Seems frustrating.”
“It’s home.”
My elbow went to the middle console, and I set my chin in my hand to study him. “You kind of look like you fit here with this big pickup and your hair getting all blown around in the wind.”
He glanced at me and chuckled. “My mom raised small-town boys. We couldn’t shake it if we tried.”
“You don’t look it in your suit and tie.”
“I’m still in part of my suit now,” he said, eyebrow raised as he turned down another street.
He was. He’d lost the jacket and tie, but he still wore slacks and his white collared shirt didn’t hold a damn wrinkle. The sleeves were rolled up and his big hands gripped the steering wheel of a F-150 now. The Rolex glinted in the sun, but it was on the wrist of a man who looked perfectly able to chop wood out here in this small town. My mouth watered at the vision of him in this truck, on this country lane where kids played outside and the sun shone on every golden leaf.
He chuckled, and the sound shook my whole stupid, fantastical soul. “What are you thinking, Pix?”