by Amy Andrews
He quirked an eyebrow. “You want to fuck your way to forgiveness?”
Selena refused to flinch this time. Screw it. They were both adults. And he could sit there and brood and judge as much as he liked but she remembered a lot of things about him too, and he couldn’t hide from her how tempted he was. His fingers were wrapping and unwrapping around the steering wheel to stop himself from reaching for her, the muscles in his forearms taut under the strain.
“Never heard of sex with the ex?”
“It sounds pretty dumb to me.”
“It’s supposed to be cathartic.”
“You want catharsis?”
She shook her head at his calm response when she was shaking inside. In anger and anticipation. “Come on, Jarrod. Don’t you? You’re pissed that I left without saying goodbye. So how about we do that now?”
“What? One last hurrah?” He threw it at her disparagingly, his gaze raking up and down her body. She guessed it was supposed to be insulting, but her body heated shamelessly beneath its thoroughness.
“You want me to … fuck you right here, right now? In Rhonda? Just like old times? You want me to rip you out of that dress?” His roughened breathing filled the space between them as his gaze dropped to where her heart beat frantically and her nipples were two tight points.
“Tear your underpants off?” He stared at the slit in her dress like he could rip it the rest of the way up her leg through sheer force of will.
If he was trying to put her off with his dirty words he wasn’t. His vulgarity only quickened her breath, tripped her pulse. “Why not?” she demanded. “Or do you prefer to walk around like some bloody martyr because your high school girlfriend dumped you fifteen years ago?”
His green eyes went from stormy to flinty. He shook his head at her. “Bloody hell, Selena. I don’t have a condom and even if I did, you have a boyfriend, remember.”
“I’m on the pill,” she said. “Also … I lied about the boyfriend.”
“What?” he hissed. “What the fuck for?”
“Because part of me always knew we’d end up here and I was trying to avoid it.”
Their breathing was loud as it sawed in and out between them, their glaring was mutual. They were probably scaring every native animal in the vicinity into early extinction. “And how’s that working out?” he demanded.
“Not so well for me as it turns out.”
“For you? Why just you?”
“Because I’ve changed my mind. Because I want you so damn much I can barely stop myself from touching you.”
“You think I don’t want you?” he demanded, his eyes wild.
Selena quirked an eyebrow. “I think you’ve got a funny way of showing it.”
He grabbed her arms and yanked her close, half pulling her across the centre console, shoving her nearest hand on his rampant erection. “This is how much I want you.”
Selena gasped, her breathing harsh as she automatically wrapped her hand around his cock. It was thrilling to hold him in her hand again.
“And this,” he said as he slid his other hand up her thigh, pushing under the slit of her dress, not stopping until he was cupping her.
She panted as he ground the heel of his hand against the lace of her underwear, her belly contracting hard. Then he grabbed for the waistband and yanked on them as Selena lifted her ass off the seat, pulling them all the way down her legs until she could kick them off.
They stared at each other for a moment or two, her hand kneading his cock, before she leaned across the space that separated them and finally put her mouth to his. He groaned as they made contact, his hands spearing into her hair as he deepened the kiss.
His tongue demanded entry into her mouth. Selena granted it, moaning as he took advantage, her neck bending back from the aggressive onslaught of the kiss. But it wasn’t enough, she wanted more. She wanted to be nearer, to feel him flush against her, to feel the hardness in her hand throbbing deep inside her. She grabbed for his bicep with her free hand and hauled herself across.
“Careful,” Jarrod groaned as she struggled to get there, yanking up her dress for more ease of movement, determined not to let consoles and gearsticks stop her, mindful of her spiky heels as she threw her leg over.
Those suckers could gore him in a place that only a surgeon from Pamplona could fix.
And then she was rearing above him as she settled her bare sex against the hard bulge of his cock. She cried out and he groaned as she ground down, rubbing herself along the length of him, taunting herself with what was to come.
“God, you feel good,” he muttered, his lips sliding to her neck as his hands slid to her back then down to her ass.
“So do you,” she gasped, her eyes shut as she rode the hard edge of him.
His hands crept up her back, under her hair, all the way to her nape and slid down the zipper of her dress. Selena didn’t even feel it come undone, all she knew was that one moment she was covered and the next he was peeling the dress off her shoulders and down her arms to her waist, exposing her naked breasts to his view.
“So sweet,” he said, his hands cupping them, his fingers brushing over the nipples.
Selena gasped and grabbed his shoulders for support as he stroked his fingers over every contour. “Lay back,” he urged, easing her against the steering wheel as he leaned forward and sucked a nipple into his mouth.
“Oh God,” she panted, shutting her eyes as he tortured both nipples with the hot suck of his mouth and the soft brush of his whiskers, taking his time, pulling each one into a tight peak then switching to the other. Each swipe of his tongue accelerated her pulse, each graze of his teeth stopped the breath in her lungs, each tickle of his beard skittled goosebumps in its wake.
And he didn’t let her up, his mouth keeping her pinned to the wheel as he unleashed a sensuous assault on her nipples that rolled her eyes back in her head. She was so gone on the heady cocktail of pleasure consuming her she didn’t notice the discomfort of the surface she was on or the pull in her thighs from her position.
But she did notice his fingers brushing through the hair at the apex of her thighs and sliding into the slick heat between her legs.
“Oh God,” she moaned, lifting her head, looking down at him, bent over her breasts, feasting on them. She absently noticed the way the moonlight picked out the golden strands amidst the red of his hair and she sank a hand into it as he sank a finger inside her.
“Yes.” Her hips bucked, and he pushed another finger in, deeper, harder. “Jarrod, please,” she whimpered.
Please what she didn’t know. Please stop, please don’t stop. Please make me come. She didn’t know what she wanted right now, but as his thumb slid over her clit it was clear Jarrod did.
He’d always known. He’d always been able to read her body. He may have been her first but he’d always been her best.
She clutched his hair harder as he quickly built a rhythm with his fingers and his thumb. In and out, round and round. Over and over again while he lathered attention on her nipples until she was bucking her hips, riding his hand as she’d once ridden his cock.
But it wasn’t enough. She wanted him inside her. Wanted to feel him pumping inside her. Wanted to feel the kind of connection to another human being that only Jarrod had been able to give her.
“Jarrod,” she panted, pulling his hair, yanking his head away from the maddening torture of her nipples.
“What?” he growled, his eyes jade in the moonlight flooding in through the windscreen, as his fingers continued to tease and build the heat and tempo between her legs.
“I want you inside me.”
He shoved into her hard and rough with his fingers. “I am inside you.”
Selena moaned and shut her eyes as the sensation spiked straight to the base of her spine. “Not like that.”
“You want my cock inside you?”
So. Bad. “Yes,” she whispered as his thumb eased back on the pressure and she almost whimpered out loud.
“You used to hate that word,” he said, his gaze drifting to her breasts. “You used to always say penis, do you remember?”
She remembered. Cock had seemed so … crude and it still wasn’t a word that made it into her vocabulary on a regular basis, but she loved how he taunted her with it now.
It cranked up her arousal another notch.
“You want my cock inside you?” He crooked his fingers hitting just the right spot, dragging a cry from her throat and forcing her eyes shut as she reached wildly for purchase on one of his shoulders. “You’re going to have to say the word.”
He unzipped his fly with his other hand, the noise shredding the silence. Selena’s eyes snapped open, desperate for a visual as she bucked against his hand, so close to an orgasm now she could feel it in the slight tremble of her thighs.
“You get off on women talking dirty?” she demanded, her voice husky as Jarrod changed the pace of his invasion, holding her masterfully on the precipice.
“No. Only you.”
“You think I can’t talk dirty?”
“I don’t know,” he taunted. “I don’t know who you are anymore.”
Selena glared at him. “I’m the same person I’ve always been, Jarrod. With a broader vocabulary.”
“Oh yeah? Why don’t you show me what you’ve got?”
A spurt of anger joined the slow fizz creeping up her spine. Did he think she’d blink?
Had he forgotten she didn’t?
“You going to touch your cock while I tell you what I want to do with it?”
If he was surprised he didn’t show it. He just grinned. “You want me to?”
“Sure. I want you to touch it. And every time after this when you’re touching yourself, I want you to think about fucking me in your car in my black heels with my tits out and my red dress around my waist.”
“Jesus, Selena,” he muttered, his gaze fixed on her breasts.
She couldn’t tell if he was touching himself but his fingers had picked up their pace and her world was slowly fraying around the edges as pleasure stirred deep in her muscles. “And when that’s not enough,” she panted, “I want you to think about the first time I sucked your cock right here under these trees.”
He groaned. “I already do.”
“Yeah?” she gasped, “Well think about me swallowing next time because I do that now too.”
“Fuck.”
Fraying morphed to unravelling and Selena’s need to be filled by him flared with the intensity of a lit match.
“Goddamn it,” she swore, reaching down and wrenching his fingers out of her before he took her too far. She vaulted forward, planted a palm in the centre of his chest, pushing him back into his seat.
“I want your cock inside me, now, Jarrod Weston,” she panted, fixing him with a fierce stare as she reached for the thick hard rod freed of his underwear, large and ready between them. “Is that good enough for you?”
“Fuck yes,” he muttered, bucking into her hand as she closed her fingers around him and his mouth slammed onto hers.
She wasn’t sure who moaned, or if they both did, but it got lost in the hot urgency of his mouth, the roam of his hands to her bare ass and the blunt, thick nudge of him as Selena guided him, centring herself before slowly taking him into her, inch by glorious inch.
They broke off the kiss, both gasping for breath when she was fully seated, his cock high and hard inside, filling her, stretching her, possessing her in a way that she’d never really forgotten.
“God …” he panted, brushing kisses up her throat as his palms travelled up her back, his fingers anchoring over her shoulder blades, locking her into that position, holding her firm. “You feel incredible.”
Selena’s instinct was to move, to ride, to buck, but he held her tight instead, frustrating the primal urge but making her excruciatingly aware of him.
Him, inside her.
Jarrod. Her Jarrod.
Every taut, rigid millimetre of him jammed to the hilt. Making her aware of the buzz rippling from the length of him to her thighs, her pelvic floor and the base of her spine.
It was almost tantric in its intensity and Selena breathed deeply as she absorbed the fullness of him, but it just wasn’t enough. She needed more. She needed rock and thrust, pound and shove. And she needed it now.
She squeezed down, her internal muscles gripping him hard, undulating the length of him and he groaned into her neck.
She did it again, whispering, “Fuck me, Jarrod” into his ear this time.
“Selena,” he muttered, his lips brushing the hollow of her throat as his palms headed south to grip her ass.
And it was all the encouragement Selena needed, rocking against him, flexing her hips, releasing some of his length before reclaiming it again, the slide of him sparking new sensations and intensifying the old.
“Yes,” he whispered as he started to move too, kneading her ass as he thrust slowly up to meet her slow slide down.
Selena moaned as he did it again and again, filling her again and again, cranking up the heat between her legs and beading her nipples to tight points. His hot mouth closed over one and she cried out, ploughing her hands into his hair, holding him fast, her head dropping back, unable to support itself as the sensation swept straight to her core.
He took control, his hands on her ass setting the pace as he lifted her almost all the way off him before slamming her back on again. The friction hit flash point, showering sparks of pleasure to her belly and breasts, the angle of his entry hitting all the right spots, her internal muscles gripping his cock hard as everything started to unravel.
“God, Jarrod,” she panted, finding the strength to right her head, looking down at him tonguing her nipple, the tremble in her thighs matching the tremble of his shoulders. “I’m going to come.”
He pulled his mouth off her breast, looking up into her face, “Yes,” he said, his hot mouth claiming hers again as he thrust harder, pushing his tongue into her mouth, pushing her over the edge.
“Come,” he muttered against her mouth. “Come.”
A cry was ripped from Selena’s throat as she let herself fly. He sucked it up, devouring it and her in a kiss that went head on with the maelstrom consuming her body. Then his own cry of pleasure spilled into her mouth and Selena moaned as he flew out to meet her in the vortex, crying out some more as he jerked and bucked and spilled every drop of himself into her. She rode with him through it, hanging on to the very end, giving him everything and wringing everything out of him in return.
Selena collapsed against Jarrod’s chest, gasping, as they were flung out the other side, the rapid-fire staccato of their heartbeats a perfect accompaniment. His hand stroked her back, and she shut her eyes at the gentle caress.
Jarrod had always been so gentle. So good.
They lay there for long beats as their breathing slowly came back under control.
“I’m not sure that helped,” he said, his voice vibrating through his chest and rumbling into her ear.
Selena had to agree. That hadn’t felt like goodbye. It felt like hello.
Chapter Five
‡
Jarrod couldn’t believe he was sitting on a rug next to Selena at the local football ground the next day, surrounded by his family and most of the town, watching a football match like they hadn’t had wild monkey sex in his car last night.
Like his brain hadn’t been totally blown. Both by the sex and the revelations.
Selena had thought she was pregnant. He couldn’t even begin to imagine the kind of panic she must have felt. Christ. Even thinking about it now brought him out in a cold sweat. What would he have done had she been pregnant? Because she was right, they had been very careless on a few occasions.
Too turned on—too far gone—to employ some self-control.
They would have worked it out. An unplanned teenage pregnancy wouldn’t have been the worst thing in the world but yeah … not the way he’d pictured his life with Selena goin
g.
Not that it had turned out the way his seventeen-year-old brain had imagined anyway.
“Penalty!”
Jarrod pulled his attention back to the game as Marcus yelled from the sideline, pacing up and down in front of them like an expectant father, as his under-twelve team played the game of their lives for a chance to win the local footy cup in this, the grand final.
Marcus had been a stalwart of the Bucks’ Football Club since he’d played as a six year old. Even though he’d given up playing due to injury a few years back, he’d been a passionate coach to a lot of junior teams over the years.
The atmosphere was tense. They were two points behind with five minutes remaining in the game. Last year the team had played the grand final but lost and the entire town was pumped for a win this time around.
The whole family had turned out to support Marcus and the team, although not all were as enthusiastic about the actual play by play. Connie was painting Delia’s fingernails. Ethan was trying to appear like it wasn’t a problem that his ex was here. Lacey was parked between Coop’s legs, leaning back into him, whispering something dirty in his ear, if Coop’s reaction was anything to go by.
“C’mon the Bucks,” Mrs D roared right beside him, once again belying her advanced age and making up for everyone else’s inattention. She was even wearing her own red and green Bucks jersey. “It’s not over yet. Not ’til the final hooter,” she told Jarrod.
He admired Mrs D’s loyalty, but it looked like the Bucks were going to miss out on the cup again this year. “Fingers crossed, Mrs D,” he said.
“Those kids would do anything for Marcus—you wait and see. It’s just such a shame the grass isn’t looking better.”
“Yes,” Jarrod agreed. The field had patchy cover and the grass that existed was brown and brittle. It was dusty, as well as hard on knees and elbows. Drought had forced the local council to employ severe water restrictions, which did not cover luxuries such as sports fields.
“We need rain so badly,” she tsked. “The Channel Four weatherman said none in sight.”
“Apparently not,” Jarrod said grimly. All the advanced weather modelling he’d seen through work had been dire. For rainfall and for fire conditions.