Show and Tell Page 12

“See, I knew you did.”

  The sooner they were out of the restaurant, the better. She had an extraordinary need to call Scott, and she didn’t think she could wait until she got home.

  She needed more of that all-powerful something he gave her.

  8

  SCOTT took half an hour picking her up, yet when he arrived, Trinity didn’t care. His scent filled the car, making her greedy for more of him.

  “Take me for a drive in the mountains.” The Santa Cruz Mountains specifically. That’s what Trinity found to be the best thing about living in the San Francisco Bay Area. You were never too far from the beach or the mountains or the Golden Gate shrouded in fog. Granted, there was no skiing, but most winters, there was at least one storm in which you could drive up to the top of Skyline for a snowball fight.

  Except that Trinity hadn’t done so since she was a teenager. Snowball fights were undignified. Yet she badly wanted to throw a snowball right down the back of Scott’s neck just for fun.

  “Your wish is my command.” He took the turnoff for the two-lane highway leading up into the mountains. He drove a European car, not a luxury model, but not inexpensive either. She liked that he didn’t have to be overly ostentatious.

  “I’m not sure which I like you better in, jeans or a suit and tie.” Goodness, he looked yummy in either. Tonight, he’d paired the jeans with a chambray button-down shirt. She wondered if he’d changed at the gym, but didn’t ask.

  Instead, she itched to unbutton his shirt.

  “I like you naked,” he said.

  Her heart rate spiked. Leaning over, she gave in to her desire, undoing three buttons, then slipping her hand inside to caress his nipple.

  He trapped her fingers beneath his palm. “This is a winding road. You don’t want me to lose control.”

  Oh yes, she did. She wanted him to give all his control to her. That’s why she’d called from her car and told him to meet her. It wasn’t enough on the phone. She wanted to feel how much he wanted her, not merely hear it. Just as she had in the hotel room the other night.

  Where are you going with this, Trinity?

  She subsided into her own seat, though she did leave his shirt unbuttoned. Leaning back against the door, she curled her feet beneath her. “Why did you meet me tonight?”

  He took a steep curve, then glanced at her. “I want you.”

  Her heart went straight to her throat.

  “You make me do crazy things I’ve never done before.” He reached across to stroke from her knee to halfway up her thigh.

  She shivered in the short, pleated skirt.

  “And I like that.” He concentrated once again on the road. “It makes me feel very alive.”

  “You make me feel alive, too,” she whispered. She’d never thought of that before. She’d seen her bizarre behavior with Scott as being hurt over Harper, stress with Inga, and a need for something fresh, sensual, powerful, and exciting, but she’d never considered that he made her feel alive. He made her want to taste new things, not just bread pudding and ice cream, but life.

  Trinity had never relished life itself. She’d been too busy pleasing other people—men especially—and making sure everyone liked her. Now she wanted to savor it all. With him.

  “Find a place and pull over.” She wanted to touch him right this minute.

  There were all sorts of little tributaries off the road, old logging tracks that eventually trailed off into nothing.

  “Why?”

  “Because I want to kiss you.” Gazing at his mouth, she licked her lips. “I haven’t kissed you yet and I want to.” How had she missed doing that? A kiss, a taste, a new exotic flavor.

  “That sounds good enough for me.” His voice was deeper, huskier.

  This thing with Scott was insane, in direct contrast to Miss Trinity Green the debutante who always did everything perfectly. She was tired of being perfect. It hadn’t done a damn thing for her anyway. Now, she wanted some secret, crazy, wonderful, scary fun with this man. “You’re the unknown,” she whispered.

  She wanted to be surprised and delighted and swept off her feet. Except that this time, she’d have her eyes wide open. Her relationship with Scott was about lust, yet lust was more emotion than she’d ever experienced.

  He found a little lane leading off to the right, up a hill, the car bouncing in the ruts left from the hard rain they’d had three weeks ago. The road became a trail, then was swallowed up entirely by the overgrowth of ferns, bushes, and long grasses visible in the car’s headlights.

  Scott shut off the engine, plunging them into darkness, with barely a ray of moonlight making its way through the trees. His seat belt unsnapped, and she felt rather than saw the bulk of his shadow turn to her.

  “So. What was this about kissing me?”

  The scent of soap and the aphrodisiac tang of sizzling male settled over her, yet he didn’t lean forward to meet her halfway.

  If she wanted his kiss, the act was up to her. As her eyes adjusted, his outline filled the driver’s side window, and he lounged, one arm draped over the steering wheel.

  With the windows up, not a sound penetrated. Trinity lowered her voice to match the quiet of the night. “We need to get in the backseat.”

  “Why?”

  She tipped her head. “Are you playing hard to get?”

  She couldn’t see whether he smiled or not, but she was sure she heard it in his voice. “I want to make sure I know what your intentions are before I let you take me into the backseat. You might be planning to have your wicked way with me.”

  “You hope I am. Now get in the backseat.” Another new and pleasurable sensation, she liked being the aggressor.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he murmured. Beside her, the window slid down as he tapped a button, allowing two inches of night air, spiked with the sharp zest of greenery, to stream in. The snick of the door set off the dome light, the sudden illumination gleaming in his eyes before he climbed out.

  Oh yeah. He was more than hoping she’d have her wicked way with him. Trinity shoved open her own door, pushing aside a tenacious bush that snagged her skirt. He was already seated, legs splayed, hands on his thighs, as she crawled in beside him, shutting off the light when she pulled the door to.

  Her eyes needed to adjust all over again, and she reached out, encountering his cheek. She petted, stroked, loving the feel of manly whiskers. “You’re very handsome, you know.”

  “Throwing the dog a bone?”

  She laughed. “You know you’re an extremely good-looking man. I bet you have women falling all over you.”

  He didn’t say a word.

  “Not that I’m fishing to find out about other women that you’re dating or anything.” But suddenly, she was thinking about it. She didn’t like the idea of another woman having him.

  “There’s no one but you.” Without proper lighting, the intensity in his voice came across more strongly.

  “Good.” She’d had enough of competition. She shifted and her knee touched his. Pulling the pleated skirt higher, she was glad she’d worn something that allowed her to move freely. She leaned in close to nuzzle his hair, soft despite the gray in it. “You smell good.” Soap, shampoo, man.

  “You smell better.” A husky note laced his words.

  She nosed his ear, then flicked her tongue along the shell. His shiver traveled across the sultry air between them. Power shimmered through her. She liked exciting him, taking his breath away, teasing him. He was a man at her mercy, and Trinity adored the feeling. She wanted to take a long time savoring his mouth. She hadn’t kissed for the sake of kissing since high school.

  “Do you like that?” She licked again for good measure, enjoying the shudder that once again rolled through his body. His skin was sweet on her tongue.

  “Yeah. I like it.”

  Trailing down, she kissed his neck. Light touches of her lips, a puff of breath against his skin.

  Scott itched to grab her, speed her up, pull her on top of him and take, tak
e, take. Yet her slow seduction was so damn pleasurable. She got off on the tease. By the time they finally came together, she’d be as wet as he was hard. So he bided his time, kept his hands to himself, and let her set the pace.

  A kiss had never made him ache this way. Her thumb across his lips left a trail of heat.

  He’d been home when she called, yet he’d jumped in the car and taken only half an hour to make it back over the hill. That’s how damn bad he had it for her.

  “Mm.” She made little noises the whole time, driving him nuts. She kissed the corner of his mouth, then stroked his lips with the tip of her tongue. Like a cat licking up cream. She smelled of citrus and tasted of brandy, sweet, tangy.

  He was rock hard and ready.

  Cupping his cheek, she pulled him closer. In the barely there light of the moon, there was simply a gleam in her eye and shadows across her face.

  “Wanna kiss me?” she murmured against his lips.

  He wanted to fuck her. Now. Screw the preliminaries. His cock ached to be inside her. His hands trembled. The slow steady tease of the last two weeks pounding through his veins, he wanted. Everything and anything he could get.

  “Yes,” he managed, though his voice was little more than a croak.

  She kissed him. A little girl peck on the mouth. Then another, and another. Slower, lingering. Her tongue darted out to taste his lips, her kisses all the hotter for their very lack of carnality. Testing, teasing, tasting.

  Then she pulled up her skirt, straddled him, and took his face in her hands. His body surged up and he grabbed her hips, pulling her close, closer, losing himself in her heat. She couldn’t have made him harder if she’d devoured his cock.

  She kissed him with her mouth, her tongue, her lips, her whole body. She turned a kiss into a feast. His cock rode between her thighs, her nipples scorched him through his shirt. A groan rose up from the well of his belly.

  She pulled back. “Do you like the way I kiss?”

  “Yes,” he answered with that same throaty croak.

  “Do you like my mouth?” Her eyes shimmered.

  “Yes.”

  “Would you like my lipstick on your dipstick?”

  He laughed, groaned. “Your lipstick’s already gone.” He rubbed against her, let her feel how badly he wanted her.

  “Picky-picky.” She caressed his nose with hers, Eskimo style. “You’ll have to wait until I finish kissing you. Because I’m not done yet.”

  He’d die before she was done, but he didn’t have a chance to utter a word before she took him. Instead of a thrusting, openmouthed assault, she took him with a bone-melting sensual play of lips and tongues. He cupped her ass cheeks, keeping her close against his cock. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she kissed, licked, tongued, slipped down to nip his throat, then back up again. His arms sneaking around her, he molded her body to his, and angled his head to take her deeper.

  She allowed him the luxury of one long, sweet kiss, then pulled back to suck his lip. “I love kissing,” she whispered.

  “And you make me crazy with it.”

  She licked his cheek. “I’d like to sit here with you deep inside me, not moving, and kiss you while I can feel you filling me all the way up.”

  Like the proverbial devil on his shoulder, his cock pulsed with a mind of its own. Do it, do it. Lift her skirt, take her.

  Yet he wanted to enjoy the thought of it, the idea, the sensual fantasy she created for him. Taking her too fast would rob him of half the pleasure, the build in his balls, riding the ache. Relishing the desire for its own sake.

  “I wanna fuck you,” he muttered against her mouth, teasing her with words the way she teased with her lips. “I want to put my finger on your clit right now and make you see stars.”

  She wriggled against him, turning the heat on high. “I think I’m wet.” She took his mouth once more, three light kisses, a flick of her tongue, then a deep but brief foray.

  “I can determine your wetness for you.” He slid his hand beneath her skirt and stroked her bare thigh.

  “I’ll rephrase.” She breathed across his cheek, following up with another lick. “I know I’m wet.”

  “Let me feel it.” He didn’t mind begging. She had him enthralled, giving him the heat and passion he’d craved. If she gave him half a chance, he could revel in her forever.

  Wrapping her fingers around his throat, she tipped his chin with both thumbs. “Let me feel you.”

  Air puffed from his lungs. His pulse raced against her touch.

  Before Trinity could think, Scott pulled back, staking inches between their bodies, and folded her fingers around him. He was hard and he was big, filling out the crease of his jeans along his groin.

  “God, you feel so fucking good.” He laid his head against the back of the seat.

  “You feel good.” She stroked all that hard cock. He was perfect in her hand. So hard, all for her. She’d loved kissing him. But this was so much more daring. Completely powerful. Literally holding him in the palm of her hand.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever liked sex this much,” she murmured against his lips.

  He reeled her in, his arm like a band across her back molding her to his chest. His mouth against her ear, the warmth of his breath, the slide of his tongue before he whispered, “I’m going to make you love it. Make you beg for it. Make you die to have it with me every chance you get.”

  She wriggled, grabbing a little distance. “Don’t get so cocky.” Yet she wanted to take everything he offered.

  He pulled her hand down on him once more. “Feel how cocky you make me.”

  “All right, so you’re cocky.” It heated her inside and out that he was so hard, all for her. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

  He trapped her hand with his, gently forcing her to stroke the tip of his erection through his jeans. A bead of moisture seeped through the material. “I’d say that means it’s gone to my head,” he murmured.

  Trinity’s mouth watered. Lord, she could taste him again. The salty sweet flavor she’d licked from her fingers the other night. “I want more,” she whispered.

  Even in the dim light, she saw his eyes widen, then slim down to slits. “How much more?”

  She couldn’t say she’d loved oral sex. It was merely the thing a man wanted. The power had been fine, but as for the act, she could take it or leave it. She’d certainly never allowed a man to come in her mouth. Yet with Scott, she was compelled to experience everything, his flavor, texture, scent, sound. The pulse of his cock in her mouth.

  She trailed a finger along the skin visible through the open buttons of his shirt, then undid the rest, baring him to the waistband of his pants. “I want to taste you.”

  With his hands under her skirt, he grabbed her butt and snugged her closer to cradle his cock between her legs. “What do you want to taste?”

  “This.” She licked his lips. “And this.” She parted his shirt and bent to take one nipple in her mouth. Sucking, she drank in the ripple of tension through his body just before he thrust up against her. She laughed, delighted. “You like that.”

  “It makes me nuts.”

  She was sure he was harder between her legs, throbbing. She pinched. He pulsed again. Then she bit him, not hard, teasing. His groan vibrated against her belly as it rose up in his throat.