“What?” he asked as he tugged my zipper down, wasting no time burying a hand inside my panties. His fingers curled upward, finding me even in the tight confines of my jeans. I gasped, as his fingers worked against me. “You are so goddamn wet for me. You gonna tell me you don’t want it? Because I know it’s a lie. “
“I’m pissed at you,” I panted, angry at myself over my automatic, intense reaction to him. “I don’t like you very much right now.”
“You don’t have to like me. Just as long as you like what I’m doing to you.”
My eyes slammed closed and I squeezed them tight as his hand started to move, sliding over my clit. “That depends on how good you are.”
“Oh, I think you already know how good I am. But if you don’t want it, then tell me. Otherwise I’m going to fuck you hard and fast, just the way you want it. You want it that way, don’t you, April?”
I gasped again, the pleasure of his fingers pressing against the bundle of nerves at my center painting warm pleasure over my stomach, my thighs. With each stroke, he gained more command of my body. He was casting his spell again, reeling me in to do his will. And it felt. So. Damn. Good.
“Mr. Fawkes,” I breathed. “You are being inappropriate.”
One of his hands palmed my breast, the other continued to push me closer to orgasm. He pressed his mouth to my ear. “You love it when I’m inappropriate.”
I was close—so close. Everything in me tightened when he stopped and pulled his hand out of my pants. With a quick tug, my jeans and panties were around my knees. I shivered. Jordan pulled off his jacket and laid it against the car in front of me. It was warm with his body heat, and I sank into it even as I heard him unzip his jeans and fiddle with the packaging of another condom—courtesy of the concierge, I presumed.
I didn’t care, as long as he had one and as long as he used it as well as he had last night.
“Well, that wasn’t impressive,” I said after he pushed into me with a fierce thrust. “You could have at least let me come.”
“Tough shit,” he said, hooking a thick arm around my hips while he braced the other against the hood of the car. “You’ll get your orgasm. When I think you deserve it.”
“Asshole.”
“That’s right. I’m the asshole whose cock is owning you. Right now.”
He pushed into me again, then slammed into me repeatedly with a ferocity he hadn’t shown the night before. The car rocked with our movements.
Inside me, he felt so good. He was big, stretching me with every thrust, sinking deeper inside me, and soon I was moaning and panting for more. My moans echoed into the dark night and seemed to drive him harder.
With one hand between my legs again, the other had my hair in his grip. In a voice thick with lust, he said, “Brace yourself. God, you feel so good.”
I did as he said and soon he increased the rhythm with which he was pounding into me, his hand tightening in my hair, pulling my head back so he could press his mouth against my temple and whisper dirty things in my ear about how good it felt to be inside me and how he wanted to fuck me senseless.
He was close to getting his wish. The world seemed to turn around us, but I couldn’t make sense of anything except the way he was making my body feel at that moment.
Until I saw a bright light flashing from underneath my closed eyelids. At that same moment, Jordan froze. I opened my eyes to see a vehicle circling the large parking lot. As we were at the front of the car, we were hidden from view, but from the way the driver was shining a spotlight, it looked as if it were a ranger checking on things. As he made another circuit, I could see emergency lights on top of his truck.
“Shit,” I breathed.
“Don’t move. Don’t say a thing. He’ll be gone in a minute.”
Jordan may have stopped moving, but his hand hadn’t. He still stroked my clit and the touch was maddening. I clamped my hand around his wrist.
“Stop,” I said. “I can’t concentrate.”
“Shhh,” he said as the truck slowed down. Goddamn it. He was going to get out, and I was going to get caught with my pants down—literally.
I clamped my mouth shut as Jordan continued to stimulate me. I squeezed my eyes closed. He pressed his mouth to my ear. “Shh,” he said again. As if he had to remind me.
Jordan’s hand moved faster against me and I stifled a whimper, biting my lip hard. He was watching the truck as it slowly continued its circuit, finally moving away from us. My heartbeat was drumming against my chest like I’d just run for my life to escape a serial killer in the woods. The thrill was intoxicating, and as I watched the truck drive away, I was close to coming again. Thankfully, instead of being a jerk and stopping like he did last time, Jordan started to move again.