His eyes widen before he cups the back of my neck and tugs me forward. We meet in the middle where his forehead gently presses to mine before he dips in with his lips.
The kiss is soft at first. A sip. A swipe. Nothing like I remember.
Then he opens, firm and desperate. His kiss is like flipping the switch to light a Christmas tree. The mini-lights flicker on, and that first glance brings a gasp and then awe, and you realize something so beautiful means so much more than presents beneath it. That’s the feeling growing inside me as his lips move over mine.
He takes control of my mouth like a master-kisser, guiding me to follow his lead. Our lips press together then spread, savoring one another before his tongue sneaks forward and mine meets his. That touch sets off a frenzy where I’m pressing my upper body closer to his and his hands lower to my backside, tugging me to him. We kiss harsh and hurried as I slip my arms around his neck and his palm spreads on my lower back.
“Are you warm enough to take off your jacket?” He mutters against my mouth while reaching up for my hat. My hair crackles from the cold reacting to the heat of the truck’s cab. I quickly unzip my coat and shrug out of it as he pulls my scarf loose and unwraps the material.
We rush in for another desperate kiss as I cup his jaw in my hands. The prickle of his scruff is like a live current down my body and I arch into him again. He struggles with his own jacket, popping snaps and releasing the zipper, while trying to remain attached to me. I press at the outerwear, helping him remove it.
“You taste exactly as I remember.”
I smile, ready to respond but his mouth is back on mine. His hands squeeze my back and pull me closer to him.
“Damn this hoodie.” He chuckles, referencing my bulky sweatshirt, as he moves from my lips to my jaw, gently scraping his teeth against it.
“I wore it for warmth,” I explain of the old spiritwear that hangs long enough to cover my backside.
“I want to warm you.” He returns to my mouth, his kiss fast and frustrated. His fingers delve into my hair and tug my head back, tipping it so he can suck at my chin and lick underneath it. “Let me worship you.”
Holy Christmas.Who says that?
“How?” I choke before he returns to my mouth for another fierce kiss.
He pulls back. “Sit on my lap. Face the steering wheel.” He presses a lever on the side of his seat and the entire chair moves back providing more space between the wheel and his body.
“I’m wearing a ton of layers.” Frustration fills my tone but it’s too cold to remove everything despite the heat of the truck and the fogging windows.
“I’ll figure it out.” He guides me up and over him, which is an awkward climb of moving legs and bumping into the steering wheel before I’m facing the windshield with my back to his chest.
“Did you like what I was doing to you on the bleachers?”
“Aren’t most kids supposed to make out beneath them?” I tease.
His hands curl around my waist and slip under my sweater to discover another layer of clothing. He quickly tugs it upward, scrunching it up until he can get his hands on my skin.
“I would have spread you out on that bench and taken you right there if there weren’t thousands of people in the stands.”
“Not to mention the frigid temperature,” I stutter as the heat of his palm seeps into my flesh.
“Mmm.” His nose traces the lobe of my ear and I twist my head toward him. “Eyes forward. Hands on the wheel.”
“Why do I feel like I’m in driver’s ed?”
“Did you ever want to fuck the instructor?”
“No,” I choke out.
“Then this isn’t driver’s ed.” He pauses as he fumbles with my waistband, slipping his hand beneath the tight restriction. “Slip your legs to the outside of mine.”
I do as he says, straddling his lap as my knees hit the outside of his.
“I could still give you a driving lesson, though.” He hums at my ear as his palm spans my lower belly and I tip my head back to his shoulder.
“First rule is no reversing. There’s no going back once I touch you again.”
I have no idea what he means but I close my eyes and nod.