Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Can’t Get Enough of You

Skye

I check my reflection in the mirror one last time. This evening Sidney and I are going on a dessert date. I decided on jeans and a light sweater. Casual, comfortable. Underneath, I’m wearing a sexy bra and panties. I’m prepared for all possible end of date outcomes.

I find Violet in the living room with a lap pad perched on her thighs and her math textbook beside her. There’s a teen drama playing on the TV, the sound so low it’s nearly impossible to hear.

“I’ll only be gone a couple of hours. Do you need anything before I head out?”

Violet pushes her glasses up her nose. “Nope, I’m good. Just gonna do some practice questions for my finite test next week and watch some hot angsty vampires.” She motions to the TV.

I kiss Violet on the cheek. “Text me if you need anything.”

“Will do. Have fun on your date.”

“Thanks. I’ll bring you back a treat from the café.”

“Awesome. Thanks.”

I leave her to study and drive to the café. Sidney is already there when I arrive, sitting at a table for two. Today he’s dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. A black jacket is slung over the back of his seat and his hair is neatly styled. He looks utterly delicious. His face lights up with a wide smile as his eyes move over me on a slow, appreciative sweep.

When I reach him, he takes my hand and brings it to his lips, kissing my knuckle. That gentle press resonates through my body and settles in my panties.

“Every time I see you, you’re more beautiful than the last,” he murmurs.

“And every time I see you, I want to get you naked,” I blurt, then bite my lips together before I add, “That wasn’t what I meant to say.”

His grin widens. “I like your honesty, though.” He leans in and lowers his voice. “And I also like that we’re on the same page. Should we order something so we can attempt to appease the sexual tension with sugar and caffeine?”

“I love that plan, but I also doubt its effectiveness.”

“I too, doubt the effectiveness, but I’m willing to give it my most valiant effort.” Sidney tips his head toward the counter and his fingertips settle against the dip in my spine.

I don’t know what the hell is going on with my body, but even that innocent contact is making me all hot and bothered. I order an almond milk latte and Sidney orders a mocha drink. We move to the dessert case and debate the options, narrow it down to two and we each get a slice to share. I offer to pay this time, and Sidney doesn’t fight me, which I appreciate.

Once we have our coffees and desserts, we settle in at the table.

“Can I ask what happened with the girls that you ended up here?” Sidney asks.

I glance around and lean in, lowering my voice. “I gave them the whole, get your O before they get theirs speech and that if a guy isn’t willing to take the time to get you there, and you can’t tell them what you need to make it happen, then you probably shouldn’t be doing what you’re doing, and he isn’t worth your time.”

“That sounds very similar to the talk I had with my son, and like brilliant advice. A lot of the girls that hang out at the arena are pretty starstruck by these boys with promising NHL aspirations. Doesn’t matter how much attention he gets, it’s on him to make sure he’s not the only one getting into the end zone and scoring goals.”

“Is it weird that I find your parenting skills sexy?” I ask.

He grins and shakes his head. “Gotta be honest, I was already hopelessly attracted to you, but when you told me you took those girls out for coffee, your appeal skyrocketed into another dimension.”

“Remember when we were in our twenties and having a decent job and your own place was good enough to entertain a second date?”

Sidney laughs. “It’s amazing how quickly our priorities change.”

“Mm. Yes. Definitely. And dating with a teenager is no easy feat.”

“It really isn’t.”

Violet messages to check on me, and I realize it’s closing in on ten. Our coffees are long finished, but neither of us touched our desserts, too busy talking. We get takeout boxes and cut our pieces in half so we can experience the best of both worlds and Sidney walks me to my car, which is parked next to his truck.

Sidney sets his dessert on the hood. “Miller has some away games the next couple of weekends and I’m traveling with his team, but maybe we could make another coffee date work during the week?”

“I would love that.” I adjust my purse strap and my grip on my own takeout box.

“And I’d love to take you out for dinner again, if you’re interested.”

“I’m definitely interested.”

“Great.” His mouth dips to mine and he moves closer. “I’d also love to kiss you goodnight.”

“I’m right there with you.”

His fingertips drift along the edge of my jaw and then slide into the hair at the nape of my neck. We angle our heads at the same time and our lips connect. I make a soft, needy sound and he groans as our tongues tangle.

I slide my hand up his chest and curve my palm around the back of his neck and find myself pressed against the side of my car. Like the first time we kissed, I’m still holding onto my takeout box, which means I’m limited to single-hand touching. As if he’s reading my mind, Sidney’s fingers slide down my arm and he takes the box. He must move it to the hood because a second later, his hand settles on my waist, and I have the freedom to touch him with both hands.

So, I do.

And we keep kissing, lips fused, tongues sweeping out to taste each other, lower halves pressed tight. I feel him hard against my stomach. His free hand travels up my side and his thumb rests just under the swell of my breast. I jut my chest out, but we’re standing in the middle of a parking lot, so there’s not much we can do apart from kiss and make small, desperate noises.

I run my hand down his back and give his ass a squeeze. It’s deliciously firm. He grunts and his hand covers my breast.

The thumping bass of a passing car reminds us we’re making out in public again.

I break the kiss long enough to ask, “Is your son home?”

Sidney checks his watch. “He’ll be home in less than half an hour. What about your daughter?”

“She is.” I glance at his truck. It’s one of those nice extended cabs, with a full backseat and tinted windows. The parking lot is quiet, it being a Wednesday at nine-thirty. His son has away games for the next two weekends, and both of our schedules are ridiculously busy. This might be our only chance to get frisky for a while and I’d love to get past first freaking base.

“Wanna make out in the backseat of your truck?” I blurt.

Sidney’s brow arches and his gaze moves over my face, as if he’s trying to gauge my sincerity. “Yes?”

“Awesome. Me, too.” I glance around the parking lot to ensure there are no witnesses. “Let’s do it.”

Sidney unlocks his truck and holds the door open for me. I climb in and he follows me. I’m right about the spaciousness. The backseat is huge. Three full-grown adults could comfortably sit back here and have leg room. Or two horny parents with teens who make it impossible to get some alone time.

Once the door closes and the interior lights dim, I pull his mouth back to mine. I shift to straddle his lap and shrug out of my coat. Sidney does the same and I slip my hand under his shirt. He’s in excellent shape, muscles still defined, likely from practicing with his son.

“Can I touch more of you?” he groans into my mouth.

“That would be amazing,” I say breathlessly.

His wide, warm palm slides under my shirt, skimming my side as he makes his way up to my chest. He cups my right breast, his thumb brushing over the bra covered nipple. I moan.

It’s been a long time since I’ve had a man’s hands on me, and probably close to two decades since I’ve made out in the backseat of a vehicle. And back then it was a tiny two door hatchback where even someone as short as me would eat my knees.

Sidney pulls the cup of my bra down to expose my nipple. I arch into the touch as he pushes my shirt up and leans in, covering the tight peak with his mouth. He laves me with his tongue and applies the perfect amount of suction. I slide my hands into his hair and grip the thick strands on a low moan.

One second, I’m straddling his lap and the next I find myself stretched out on the spacious bench seat, my breasts the happy recipient of Sidney’s attention.

“You have the most amazing tits,” he groans against my skin.

“A good bra is everything.”

“You’re giving your bra way too much credit.” He pushes them together and alternates, sucking one nipple and then the other.

I’m desperate for a little friction, and a lot less clothing in the way. I run my hands down his back and find the hem of his shirt. I tug it up, and Sidney takes the hint and loses it. I hook a leg over his hip and pull him down on top of me. We both sigh in relief when our lower halves connect. I roll my hips and so does he.

“Fuck, Skye, you feel so damn good,” he murmurs and then we’re back to kissing as we grind on each other.

“So do you,” I mumble around his tongue.

We keep up with the dry humping, and the pressure between my thighs continues to build. His hand moves back to my breast and he rolls my nipple between his fingers in time with the shift of his hips.

I’m one of those gloriously fortunate women who can come without a lot of hard work. I don’t need all the internal, external direct contact and multiple points of stimulation to get off. I just need the right combination of attraction and friction and I’m good to go. It’s a goddamn blessing.

“Don’t stop what you’re doing.” I push down on his ass for a little extra friction. My toes curl as sensation funnels and spirals out, lighting all my nerve endings up like fireworks on the fourth of July. I make random, nonsensical sounds, followed by, “Oh my God, yes.” I slap his ass. “Fuck, that’s it. My pussy is so damn wet.”

My eyes pop open to find Sidney’s face hovering above mine, his gaze hot with desire and his lip curled up in a devilish smirk. “Are you coming?”

“What would give you that idea?” I moan-ask.

And suddenly the pressure below my waist is gone. I make a plaintive, annoyed sound and roll my hips against nothing. Sidney shifts so he’s kneeling on the floor of the truck and pops the button on my jeans. “Is this okay?” He pauses with his fingers on the zipper.

“I would love it if you would stick your hand down my pants.”

He tugs the zipper down and his fingers dip under the waistband of my panties before easing in further. I jolt and moan when he grazes my clit. And then he eases a single finger inside and I experience a full body kegel as the orgasm fires back up all over again.

Sidney curls his finger. “I need to get you naked in a bed.”

I attempt to express my agreement, but it dissolves into another moan. Eventually, the orgasm tapers off and I lie there, breathing like I’ve run a marathon, sated and mostly boneless.

I run my hand down his chest when he comes in for another fervent kiss and cup him through the front of his pants. His eyes flutter closed and his mouth drops open.

“You should sit back so I can take care of you.”

I don’t have to ask twice. Sidney folds back on his knees and hits his head on the roof of the truck. He adjusts his position and settles on the seat. I unfasten his belt, struggling a little in my zeal to get into his pants. Excitement and nerves fuse as I pull the zipper down. He feels ample through the barrier of his jeans, so I’m crossing my nipples and my vagina lips that his pants package is as delightful as the rest of him.

He’s wearing boxer briefs with a hockey pattern on them. I slip my finger under the waistband and hold my breath as I graze the tip with my finger. I glance up for a moment, appreciating the intense, heated expression on Sidney’s face, his gaze trained on my hand as I slide it into his boxer briefs and travel the generous length of his erection with my fingertips. His eyes flutter closed and his head falls back against the seat.

“Fuck yes,” he groans.

I take a moment to truly appreciate this deliciously hot man, whose ample erection I’m holding in my hand. While he basks in the rapture of having someone else take care of his pleasure needs, I free his cock from his boxers and check out the goods.

“Hell to the yes,” I mutter as I take him in.

He has what I would affectionately refer to as a boyfriend dick. Pleasing in both length and girth, with a thick head and a slight curve that will most definitely hit the internal orgasm button when he’s thrusting away.

I stroke the length of him, my thumb sweeping over the head before I reverse the circuit.

“Your hands are so fucking soft,” he murmurs.

Which is the moment someone knocks on the driver’s side window and shines a flashlight into the truck.