Oonies aside, there was a Mr. Hamilton Junior that needed attending to. I placed my hands around him, leaned down, and took him in my mouth. He reacted frantically.

"Fuck, Grace…don't…seriously, don't…ahhh…No. No, Grace…Gracie, we can't…oh, wow…ahhhh…we really shouldn't… aw, fucking hell…"

He gave in.

I heard screeching tires over his little diatribe, but mainly, I was focused on him. I licked him from base to tip, swirling my tongue around his head, and then taking him in deeply to the hilt. I could feel him hit the back of my throat and I moaned, sending vibrations through him. That's when I heard "Fucking hell" and I knew he was mine.

I pulsed him in and out, using my hands to create more friction as we sped up through the canyon. It was testament to Jack that he was able to stay on the road. One of his hands did come down briefly to tangle in my hair; I stopped only long enough to place it safely back on the steering wheel.

I could tell he was getting close, his breathing was rough and his voice, which always chanted my name seconds before he came, was starting to get tense.

I heard a squeal and then silence. Before I knew what had happened, I was pulled out of my seat, losing a shoe in the process, and was placed unceremoniously on his lap.

He had stopped me right before he came. Twenty-four-year-olds were my new favorite thing. I needed to tell Oprah to put them on her list.

But now Aggressive Jack was in the house, or rather in the car. A car that was not big enough to contain him. I sat on his lap, my knees clumsily pressed into the leather behind him, as he looked at me without words. His hand stretched out to press the button that would put the top back down, and as it moved over our heads, I looked up and saw stars. I twisted around and looked over my shoulder and saw the whole of Los Angeles spread out before us.

Mulholland.

We had made it all the way to Mulholland.

We were parked, and once the engine shut off, all I could hear was my breath, his breath, and the music. The Cult's "Fire Woman" spilled out into the night.

I started to say something about the view and his hand closed firmly over my mouth.

"No, Grace. I told you not to test me," he said darkly, eyes almost forest by now.

His breath was still a little shaky from my recent activities, but there was no question he was in control now. "Grace, did I tell you how beautiful you looked in this dress tonight?" he asked, slipping one finger under the strap and sliding his hand down below the fabric. His other hand lifted me off his lap just enough to pull the dress out from under me, billowing it out around us.

"Mmm hmm," I answered, thinking how sweet he was.

"I want you to remember that." He smirked, grasping a handful of silk and tearing it from my breast. I gasped as I watched it shred beneath his hands, leaving me open to the breeze. I was naked underneath other than my panties, and though he continued to rip my dress off my body, he never took his eyes off mine.

Then, he snarled, he fucking snarled at me. He scooted me up on my knees, taking his hand and dipping it casually underneath the band of my panties.

"And as much as I love this lace? I need to see my Grace," he said, ripping those off too. I was now completely exposed, parked on the edge of a cliff, straddling my Brit who, by the way, was still hard as hell, out and about, and pointed directly at me.

We stared at each other, our breath coming faster and faster, waiting to see which one would break first. He was breathing heavily and his nostrils were almost flaring with the passion that I could feel coursing through his body and flowing into my own. His lip curled in a sneer that was beyond belief in its sexiness. He looked like an animal, an angry and about to be out of control animal.

I could feel the breeze against my over-heated skin, raising goose bumps all over. I pressed myself down against him, ever so slightly, feeling his sex against mine, and then we both broke at the same time. Foreheads knocked, teeth clicked, lips smacked and probably bruised as we clawed at each other. His hands went to my breasts. He pushed them together and licked them both at the same time…glorious.

I buried my hands in his hair, pressing him further against me as I began to swirl my hips…fantastic. He bucked up against me, his hips tilting me backwards, and up against the steering wheel. I honked the horn with my flailing elbow…perfect.

We kissed, licked, sucked, nibbled, bit, moaned, groaned, panted, and grabbed. My wetness coated him, making us slide against each other in the most pleasing way. I could feel his hardness pressed against me and as I rocked against him. I was manipulated deliciously. I knew it would not take long…this sex was on fire.

I shifted in his lap at the same time he shifted and then…

I could feel him.

He could feel me.

We both stopped and stared, wide eyed at each other.

He was so close, he was right there, he was almost…inside me.

I could feel him, right where it needed to be. The sense of him, the feeling of him, almost inside of me, made my blood boil. He gripped my hips tightly, holding us perfectly still. I would have been shaking if he were not holding me so tightly.

"Oh, God, Jack, oh my God…please?" my voice shook. I couldn't wait any longer. I needed, I physically needed him to be on the inside, in my inside, right now.

He was perfectly still, and then I felt him push into me, just a whisper more than he had been, still only barely inside me, but just the promise of him.

We both moaned at the same time, and then he did the most unbelievable thing.

He pulled away.

I cried out at the loss.

"No! No, please Jack. Come in, please come in." I struggled to push myself down on him and looked in his eyes for an explanation. I could see a battle raging across his face. He was thrilled and horrified all at the same time.

"No, Grace, not like this," he said shakily, his voice dark and thick.

What?

His face was changing rapidly, from lust to fear to anger and then to pure carnal frustration. Mixed with determination. Dammit.

"Not in a car, not outside, not like this. Not now," he said again, his voice cracking as he pulled away further, away from my warmth that was aching to envelop him. He sighed heavily and he lifted me off his lap carefully, setting me back into my seat. I was still in shock from what had just happened, I truly thought we were about to, well, in the words of a thirteen-year-old boy…do it.

As my heart and my body began to readjust, my brain caught up. He did want me, obviously, he wanted me. But he wanted it to be special.

We were both fools. Crazy fools.

I blushed suddenly at my nakedness. I was sitting in my car naked, parked on the side of a mountain, with a still very hard Brit next to me, and we were both trying to get back in control of ourselves.

I caught his eye and we both smirked.

"That was, wow. I can't believe how hard it was to stop myself," he said.

"No kidding. I'm impressed. And apparently a bit of a slut," I laughed, primly covering my exposed breasts with pieces of my dress. It was shredded.

Panties? Shredded.

Pride? Slightly shredded, but intact.

"Are you kidding? Slut becomes you; you're my favorite slut. And just because I'm not going to be inside you tonight, doesn't mean I won't be very very soon," he answered, his voice rolling in sex as he twirled my panties on his finger, or at least what was left of them.

He shrugged out of his shirt, handing it to me and he put his jacket back on. I buttoned up and leaned over to kiss his neck.