Her belly fluttered. “Yes.”

“Second, nothing you could do when we’re together could disappoint me, nothing. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she whispered, melting more and more by the second.

“Third.” He shook his head. “Foxy, I don’t think you get how hot that is for a guy, knowing besides one idiot—because it isn’t hard to work out the guy was an idiot—you haven’t let another man inside, haven’t let another man touch your body. And, baby, knowing your first time was your only time, means I’m gonna be the first man to show you what it is to be treated right. The first man to make you come so hard, you scream.”

Heat rushed between her thighs at his dark promise, and she wriggled in his lap, squeezing her thighs together to ease the ache. He wasn’t wrong. Her first time had been awful in more ways than one. There had been only discomfort and humiliation. Common sense told her that her hesitation over having sex again was because of what happened that night. But for the first time since then, listening to the rough, lust-filled edge to his voice, shit, it all just—slipped away. All she could think about right then was how it would feel to have his weight pressing her into his mattress, his mouth on hers, the feel of that big cock, currently digging into her ass, moving inside her.

One of his hands slid into her hair, fisting gently, bringing her in close, his lips an inch from hers. “You want that? You want to know how it feels when a man rides you so hard all you can do is take it, until you explode around his cock, screaming his name?”

She licked her lips. “Yes, I want that.”

The grip on her hair tightened, but instead of kissing her, he buried his nose against her throat, whiskers scraping her sensitive skin. When he spoke, his voice was low, husky. “I can’t wait to give it to you.”

A tremor moved through her, and she gasped when he nipped at her throat, knew he’d felt it when he chuckled darkly against her skin.

“If I slid my hand under your dress, my fingers inside your panties, I know I’d find you wet and hot.” He made a low sound, a combination somewhere between a growl and a groan. “You been taking care of yourself a long time, Foxy. You must be fucking hungry for it. I bet you’re drenched right now.” He nipped her ear. “You drenched, baby?”

Jesus. The things he said—she should probably be pissed, but God help her, she loved it. Loved the rough, crude way he spoke to her. “Why don’t you find out for yourself?” she said.

He cursed low, then suddenly she was on her feet. He pulled his wallet from his pocket, threw a pile of cash on the table, then his hand wrapped around her wrist, and he towed her toward the door. He didn’t stop to say good-bye and headed straight to his big black ex-hearse parked around the side of the restaurant.

He unlocked her door first, and she scrambled inside. His opened a second later, and he slid into the driver’s seat. He turned to her, and before she could open her mouth and ask what was going on, his hands were on her hips and she was in his lap, legs bracketing his heavy thighs.

“What are you—”

His hands went to either side of her face, and he pulled her down, their mouths crashing together, all teeth, lips, tongues. Both wanting it all and taking it. His erection was right there, and she couldn’t help but grind down on it, letting out a moan at the exquisite sensation of having him between her thighs. He did some more of that growling she was growing to love, and it egged her on. She moved her hips against his, rubbing his hard, denim-covered cock over her swollen clit, gasping into his mouth every time she rasped over the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“You’re fucking hungry for it, aren’t you, Foxy?”

She couldn’t speak, could only feel. The next thing she knew, she was on her back along the bench seat of the Plymouth, and Reid was between her thighs. “You want to come, beautiful?”

“Yes.” She tried to lift her hips to get more of that amazing friction. “Please.”

One of his hands took both of hers and pinned them above her head, and he looked down at her. “Wrap your legs around my waist.”

She did as he asked, and he started moving his hips against hers, denim scraping over lace. She lifted her ass higher, seeking more, and he gave it to her, dry humping her in the front of his car like a couple of teenagers.

“I want inside that tight, hot body,” he hissed. “But you’re not ready for what I want to give you, not tonight. You’re not ready for the way I want to fuck you, but I can still make you scream for me.”

He bent down and took her nipple into his mouth, through the light fabric of her dress. The hand not holding her wrists immobile moved down and gripped her ass, angling her hips. She whimpered and thrashed beneath him, desperate, so hot and hungry. She didn’t care that she was all but begging him to make her come, not when she could feel her orgasm racing up on her.

Her inner muscles convulsed, and she moaned long and low. Then Reid bit down on her nipple, and she flew apart, shuddering and crying out his name. The whole time, Reid continued to move on top of her, until she was gasping for breath. She was vaguely aware of him stiffening, a shudder moving through his big body, his deep groan, right before she collapsed in a boneless heap beneath him.

After a few minutes, the silence closed in around them, the only sound Reid’s harsh breathing. His lips brushed her ear. “That was beautiful, sweetheart.” Then a low, almost agonized groan vibrated through his chest. “But shit, Rusty, you made me come in my pants like a fuckin’ horny teenager.”

She blinked up at him. “You what?”

He blew out a breath, and she was sure she could see his cheeks grow red. “The way you came apart for me, the way you responded…” He shook his head and grinned down at her. “Foxy, you made me blow a load in my jeans.”

She couldn’t help it—she felt almost high after the mind-blowing orgasm she’d just had, and the knowledge that she’d made this man, a man who seemed to have control in every aspect of his life, lose it completely…

Plus, the goofy smile on his face was just too damn much. She started giggling.

He smirked. “You think this is funny?”

She nodded, grinning. “No.”

“Woman, you’re killing me here.”

She bit her lip to try to stop the giggles, but it wasn’t working. “I’m not laughing at you, really I’m not.” And she wasn’t, she was just so happy, ridiculously, stupidly so, and then there was the look on his face, he just looked so…horrified. She couldn’t hold it in any longer and completely lost it. Throwing her head back, she laughed her ass off.

A moment later, Reid buried his face against her throat, and she heard it, a sound she knew she’d never get sick of hearing—his deep rumbling laughter.

Chapter Eleven

Reid glanced over at Rusty staring out the window as they drove further out of the city toward his place and wondered what was going on in that head of hers.

The night before, after his complete lack of control, disgracing himself in front of her, he’d reluctantly taken her home. After what she’d told him, he’d needed to get a handle on things. He didn’t care how many men a woman chose to fuck, that was her business, but hearing that Rusty had only been with one guy—once? Shit, he turned into a goddamned caveman. It had been too damn much. Every instinct inside him had screamed to claim her. He’d been in no condition to take things slow, and she deserved better that that. She deserved better than him.

Rusty wasn’t the kind of woman he usually messed with. Shit, he had no business being with her.

She constantly threw him off balance. He barely knew which way was up when she was with him.