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  “My keys weren’t in the lockbox. I know I left ’em there.”

  “You did indeed,” I said nodding. Then I looked him up and down, making sure he hadn’t mistaken my intent. “Fact is, I have an itch that needs scratchin’ and I’m hopin’ you’ll help me out.”

  I tried to exude more confidence than I felt, but I lost my nerve on the return trip up his hard body. I paused and swallowed hard, then gave a little cough to loosen the knot lodging at the back of my throat. When I reached his mouth, he was grinning.

  Shit.

  “Angela, is there somethin’ you want?”

  You, preferably naked and tied spread-eagle on a bed so you can’t stop me nibbling every edible part of you.

  “Angela?”

  “Is there something I want? Yeah, there is.”

  “Then just say it.”

  But I couldn’t. I felt foolish enough. I reached into my purse and drew out his key ring. “Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken this so far.”

  “You made me wait half an hour, when I could have been home, showered and in bed. You know how long I’ve been out this time.”

  “I know. I arranged the schedule.”

  Still, he didn’t take the keys.

  I took a step toward him and had to tilt my head to maintain the lock on his gray gaze.

  His hands settled on my waist. “You want somethin’, sweetheart?” he repeated, his voice lowering to a sexy rumble.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, prayed for courage and that the blush staining my cheeks would fade. “I want you,” I said, then opened my eyes.

  His grin widened. “Now, was that so hard?”

  “Matter of fact it was.”

  He bent toward me, his gaze narrowing on my mouth, but I turned away my face. “Not here. Your rig.”

  His eyebrows shot up, and he pushed me gently back. “After you. You know where I’m docked, and you have a key. Let yourself inside and get comfortable. I’m hittin’ the locker room for a quick shower. I smell like diesel.” He turned on his heel, giving me another view of that backside I’d drooled over for months.

  A moan slipped from my mouth, and I heard a chuckle as he pushed through the door and left me standing weak-kneed in his wake.

  He let me wait a good twenty minutes before the door to his cab opened, and he climbed inside. The scent of plain soap swept into the cab that already smelled like him—musky male, diesel. But since he didn’t smoke and didn’t appear to collect his meals, it smelled pretty good for a trucker’s rig. Light shone from the top of a tall post in the parking lot, illuminating the cab. Security cameras would record who entered the truck but I hoped wouldn’t disclose what we were about to do inside the cab. Another reason I’d waited until tonight for this. Everyone would be blabbing.

  I sat in the plush leather passenger seat and glanced away as he climbed up into the driver’s seat.

  “Change your mind?” he asked softly.

  “No,” I bit out, a little annoyed that he asked. I wanted him to take the initiative, not seek my approval every step of the way.

  “Then why aren’t you in the back?”

  “Look, you don’t have to feel obligated,” I said, turning to meet his smoky gray gaze. “If you’d rather get some sleep…”

  “I jerked off in the shower.”

  My jaw sagged just a little, then snapped closed. “Now, why are you tellin’ me a thing like that?”

  “Because I want you to know how much I want you. Thought I’d take some of the edge off before I came out here. I didn’t want to leave you unsatisfied, darlin’.”

  I swallowed hard, eyeing the taut edge of his jaw, the glint of arousal in his eyes. Maybe it was just what I wanted to see, but I didn’t back away when he reached for me.

  He leaned toward me. His hands slid around my back, one gliding up to fist in my hair. He held my head still as he devoured my mouth, lips rubbing over mine, his tongue stroking in to mate with mine. He tasted like minty toothpaste. The hands pulling me from my seat were strong, his grip firm. I didn’t hesitate to follow his lead as he helped me rise and straddle his lap.

  My skirt rode up past my hips, and cool air hit my bare cheeks, but I didn’t care. With the steering wheel rubbing my back, I settled over him, gripping his shoulders, at last feeling the muscles I’d admired for so long flex beneath my wandering palms. I tested his hardness, scratched down the deep indent of his spine, raked his scalp with my nails.

  He broke the kiss and pushed me away. Then he tucked his fingers under the top edge of my red shirt and pulled down the stretchy fabric until the neckline cupped the underside of my breasts.

  “Interestin’ bra,” he drawled.

  I glanced down. My nipples and most of my fleshy breasts were exposed, sitting on a shelf of lace and underwire. “I hoped you’d like it,” I said, my voice creaking like a dry hinge.

  Thumbs and forefingers plucked my nipples, pinching and twisting gently, then tugging with more insistence. My heartbeats quickened, and blood surged to the aching tips, engorging them.

  I flattened my hands against the back of his head and pulled him toward one spiked tip. I groaned when his mouth latched onto it. He nibbled and licked, bit and rolled.

  I ground down against his lap, against the ridge thickening inside his jeans. I rubbed forward and back, the coarse denim building frictional heat between my legs.

  One of his hands dropped to my ass, and he moaned as his long fingers dug into the skin bared by my thong. “Get into the back.”

  Breathing hard, I stared down. His mouth was blurred and red. His cheeks sharp, expression feral. The hardness in his gaze could have cut diamonds, and again, I didn’t hesitate, no matter that my ass was in his face when I climbed between the seats to the sleeping berth.

  The bed was mussed, the sheets wadded at one end. I lay down on my side and scooted toward the back, waiting until he was clear of the seats and stretching out beside me.

  Only his legs were too long and he lay at a diagonal, crowding my knees. I slid a thigh between his legs and climbed over his body.

  When I sat atop his hips, he smoothed his palms up my torso, rolling up the shirt. When that flew over the seats, he reached around me and expertly opened the clasp of my bra. Without the underwire, I worried that my heavy breasts would sag too much, but he hefted them in his palms and his breaths deepened.

  “I’ve wanted to suck on these forever.”

  I gave a short, strangled laugh. “I wouldn’t have said no.”

  “Then why’d you wait so long?”

  “Why didn’t you make the first move? Are you really that arrogant that you have to have a woman come to you?”

  “I didn’t think you’d say yes.”

  “Really?”

  He grunted, the sandpaper pads of his thumbs continuing to rasp over my nipples. “You’re pretty. Smart too. And you have every man drivin’ sniffin’ after you.”

  “But you’re handsome. I bet you don’t get many no’s from women.”

  He arched a brow.

  “Okay, so not handsome like a movie star. But you’re rugged and built like a god. I didn’t think you’d want me. I’m too old for you.”

  “There’s only eleven years between us.”

  I raised my brows. “How do you know that?”

  “I ate your birthday cake and counted the candles.”

  When he pinched my nipples, I tensed, my eyelids dipping. “I guess eleven years doesn’t really matter,” I gasped, “when all we’re doin’ is screwin’ around.”

  He pinched harder, then holding my gaze he came up on his elbows and rooted at one of my breasts, sucking the tip, and more, into his mouth. His moan was deep and gravelly. I felt it all the way to my toes.

  My other breast tingled, dimples popping up around the areola and the tip sprung. I cupped it with my palm to ease the ache, but he pulled away my hand and shook his head, wagging my breast right along.

  I gave a strangled laugh. “So not sexy.”


  He released my breast. “Got any complaints about my technique?”

  “Maybe about your pacing.” I ground against his erection. “You’re killin’ me here.”

  “Get your clothes off,” he growled.

  “You first.”

  “No way. I’m the guy. I get off on watchin’.”

  I swallowed hard, but I’d asked for this. Wanted for him to take charge, and he had with a vengeance if that hard-eyed look was any indication.

  I slid down beside him and rolled to my back, then awkwardly tugged off my shoes, tossing them between the seats in front of us, then shimmied out of my skirt, being careful not to lose the scrap of lace shielding my sex from his hungry gaze.

  Danny slid a finger under the lacy band at my hip, pulled it, and let it go to snap against my skin.

  “Not nice.”

  “I didn’t tell you to stop.”

  “You gonna order me around all night?”

  “I think so,” he murmured. “Seein’ as how it turns you on.” He traced a finger down the lace, right between my folds. He couldn’t miss the moisture soaking through the satin.

  When he popped his finger in his mouth for a taste, I pushed my panties down the rest of the way and then waited as he looked me over.

  Danny traced down the edges of my nude outer lips. “Did you do that for me?”

  I shook my head. “I prefer it.”

  “Spread ’em open for me.”

  I reached down and opened my lips and held them that way while he fingered the thin inner labia and pushed a long thick digit inside me.

  My pussy clenched around him, then released. Then squeezed again. A trickle of moisture greeted his invasion, and he quickly pulled out and sat up in the small, cramped space beside me to tug his shirt over his head. He unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them past his hips. Just far enough to free his cock, which sprang free, lifting toward the ceiling of the cab.

  I didn’t wait for him to tell me what he wanted, he was too tight, too quiet, his breaths coming fast. I climbed over his knees and curled down to take him in my mouth. His fingers combed through my hair, then framed my face.

  I bobbed down, my lips suctioning, latching around his crown to suckle hard, my tongue swirling over and over his soft, sleek head. I found the slit, teased it with the point of my tongue, then swirled again, sinking down his cock to take more of his length, caressing the sides of his thick shaft with my long, slippery glides.

  His hand fisted in my hair and pulled me off. “Thought this was supposed to be your fantasy.”

  “Think I haven’t thought about doing this? What it would feel like? How thick, how long it would be? I’m just gettin’ acquainted.”

  “Damn. Come on up here.”

  I started to crawl up his body, sliding my chest over his belly, but he shook his head. “No, sit that bare-nekkid pussy over my mouth.”

  I pressed my lips together to keep the laughter trapped.

  “Not cool enough?” he gritted out.

  “It sounded sort of cheesy.”

  “Didn’t I say it with enough snarl?”

  “Just the right snarl if you were The King.”

  “Who?”

  “Never mind,” I muttered. Baby.

  “I mean it. You got close and personal with me, turnabout is fair play. Bring it on up here, girl.”

  “I’m not a girl,” I said, pushing out my lower lip.

  He rolled his eyes. “Will you stop with the age thing? I want that pussy on my mouth.”

  The way he said it, his jaw tightening like he’d turn me over his knee if I didn’t move fast enough, had me inching my way up until I squatted over his face, reaching up to curl my fingers over the edges of an overhead cabinet for balance.

  Fingers parted me. He inhaled and gripped my ass in both hands and moved me slightly until my pussy made contact with his mouth. His lips latched onto me, sucking one side then the other, releasing me with moist pops that had me blowing out breaths in short, hard streams through pursed lips because it felt so damn good, so foreign. Like a dream come true because I’d imagined what it might be like and now it was happening.

  Danny Echo was eating me out.

  He gave long soothing strokes of his tongue and short ones that flickered over my soft wet edges. Then he hardened the point to flutter at my clit.

  I couldn’t hold still and began to rock in short glides, guided by his hands as I moved forward and back. I gave a moan when he rubbed his tongue harder over the swollen knot, burgeoning at the top of my folds and held still while he laved it over and over again.

  “God, Danny, that’s good.”

  “Like it?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  He gave my sex a loud smacking kiss, slapped my ass, and pushed me down his body.

  I heard a tear, the slick snap of latex, and then he rolled, fitting me under him and thrusting his arms beneath my knees to lift my ass. “Put me inside you.”

  Both hands gripped his shaft, and he rocked forward. I aimed him right at my entrance, felt the nudge of his broad, round cap, and let go, bracing a hand against the wall and clutching the notch of his hip with the other as he entered me.

  He was large. Perfect. Pushing gently upward, crowding through wet, swollen tissue that hadn’t felt the stretch of a cock in good long time. Air hissed between my teeth, and I turned away my face.

  “No,” he said softly. “You wanted this. You have to watch.” He reached and hit a light switch. The overhead glared down, exposing us both to the harsh, bright light.

  I covered my breasts but couldn’t help looking down to where our bodies joined. He pulsed inward, halted, and then pulled out. His shaft glistened with my juices. He slid his fingers around the base of his cock and squeezed. “Keep lookin’ at me like that and I’ll blow.”

  A smile tugged at the corners of my lips, and I knew I must have looked like the kitten licking up all the cream. I was the one who had his body so tight and hard that his belly shivered.

  “Angela,” he ground out. “Fuck.” He released his grip, angled his cock just right, and slammed up my pussy.

  My mouth opened and a long, thin groan joined the nasty sounds echoing around the cab. Juicy slaps. Soft, masculine grunts. Short, metallic creaks. Coming faster as he pounded toward my core.

  Release, when it came, roared through me. Toes curling, I snapped open my legs as wide as they could go, arched my back and sank my nails into his backside, trying to hold onto the moment because it was so damn perfect.

  When my peak began to wane, he jerked, stroking in short, sharp bursts. Then he dug deeper at the last moment. His head fell back, his mouth opening around a loud, aching groan.

  The sight of him, all primal male, chest and belly quivering, his cock still lodged deep inside me, was oh so gratifying.

  At last, he gave a deep sigh and collapsed over me, my legs still wedged high, trapping his arms in the bend of my knee. I couldn’t help it. I laughed.

  His head jerked up. His gaze met mine, and his lips twitched. “Think I didn’t do that on purpose?”

  “Losin’ circulation yet?”

  He ducked and mashed his lips against mine, then backed up on his knees. His arms slid from under my legs, and I eased them down, stretching them on either side of his kneeling frame.

  “So, I hear you’re leavin’.”

  “Word gets around.”

  “Movin’ out of town?”

  I nodded. “To Prescott. I have another job. But how’d you know? I asked Cooter to keep it quiet.”

  His mouth widened. “Your new job. Dispatch for Ragland?”

  I eyed him warily. “That’s it. Just a good guess?”

  He shook his head slowly, his smile never dimming.

  Warmth centered in my chest. I ran my palms over his belly and scratched my fingernails down toward his groin. He came out of me, and I rolled the wet latex slowly down his length. “Lemme guess. You drive for them.”

  “Uh huh. Owner s
aid this hot as hell woman from HT was hirin’ on, and did I know you.”

  I pulled his cock hard, just to get his attention. “You couldn’t have mentioned this earlier?”

  He came over me, bracing his torso on his arms, a wicked glint in his gray eyes. “And have you spoil one fine-as-hell good-bye?”

  ONCE UPON A DINNER DATE

  Saskia Walker

  Samuel set the steaming platter of food down on the table with a flourish, intent on making an impression on his guest.

  “This looks delicious,” Cassie said, eyeing the food hungrily.

  He was just about to move away when she reached out and grabbed his hand.

  “Is this a proper date?” Her fingers meshed with his as she asked the question.

  Samuel stared at her upturned face and for a moment he couldn’t respond. The physical contact was too good, and the question was almost too direct—but it was exactly where he’d been planning to direct the conversation over the main course. Then she smiled that gorgeous smile of hers and the tension in his gut began to unravel.

  “That was my intention,” he replied. Acting on the sudden intimacy of the moment he drew her fingers to his lips, kissed them, then leaned down to kiss her mouth. Her soft lips parted under his, inviting him in, and when she wrapped her free hand around the back of his head and drew him closer still, physical need built quickly inside him, making him hard. How long he’d been waiting to do that, and now he knew she wanted it too.

  “Don’t let it get cold,” she said as they drew apart, with mischief in her eyes.

  Not possible, he thought as he took his seat at the table, opposite her. He wanted her too much, and being this close to her was driving him mad. She was a sensual, expressive woman with a warm, playful personality. That’s what had drawn him to her, right from the moment she’d moved into the flat opposite his about six months before. He’d been attracted to her on sight, but given the age difference between them and her freshly divorced status, he didn’t think he stood a chance. He was a research student in his mid-twenties. She was an advertising executive in her early thirties. Why in the hell would she give him the time of day? But she had, and now here they were.