Twisted Up (13 page)

He barked out a laugh. “Shit, woman. As if you could keep your hands off me when there’s a bed or not in proximity.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve been a perfect lady with you.”

“You keep telling yourself that, but we both know it’s bullshit.”

It was her turn to laugh. Okay, yeah, it was bullshit. She’d been way too eager not to be a lady. Maybe a lady slut, but there were moments where the lady part of it clearly was kicked out of the equation. He had the utmost respect for her, but down on her knees, come dripping down her thighs, her arms stretched over her head, and orgasm upon orgasm reducing her to nothing more than a quivery puddle of goo… Lady didn’t come into the same universe and she’d take that state of being any day of the week over being a proper anything. Well, anything other than being properly his.

She loved that he could tease her out her maudlin thoughts, her too serious thoughts. It wasn’t that he didn’t want her to ever be serious, he just liked when she laughed and smiled. He wanted to help, to fix things, and he couldn’t do it all. Some things she had to work out on her own. Until he got impatient and took matters into his own hands or took her into his own hands.

“You’re thinking about it again, aren’t you?”

“What?”

“Don’t what me. You’re thinking about sex again.”

“I am not.”

“Again. Bullshit. I see it in the blush on your cheeks and how you keep looking out the corner of your eye at me. Your nipples are pebbled against that shirt and bra, and I bet if I reached between your legs, I’d find your panties soaking wet.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she huffed. She was lying, too. They both knew he was dead-on with his assessment. She
was
thinking about sex with him again. She was thinking about him naked and hard and inside her.

There were three things in her life that gave her purpose and made her feel alive. Him, sex with him, and her job. Probably in that order too.

She loved her friends and her family, but her job was something that was all hers. Then there was Justin. She loved him, as well. He was all hers if she was willing to give it a shot.

Love.

Him.

Just as that realization dawned, she saw the signs for the airport. Tempered with her elation at finally admitting it to herself, there was the trepidation of leaving him, of not knowing how to or what to do next.

“Do you want me to park and go in with you or…?”

“I think I love you, Justin.” She clapped a hand over her mouth. She couldn’t believe she just blurted it out like that. She knew it was more than an ‘I think’ too. But did she have to just throw it out like that?

He switched lanes immediately. “Parking it is. Terminal?”

She chanced a glance in his direction. The smile on his face warmed her and worked to steady the frantic beating of her heart, but with the words out there, she couldn’t help but feel a little…or rather a lot nervous. “Huh?”

“What gate are you leaving out of? What terminal do we need to park at? There’s parking for each one.”

“Oh. Right. Ummm,” she dug in the side pocket of her purse for her boarding pass. “E. Terminal E.”

“Got it.

Justin pulled into the parking garage, took a ticket and put it up on the dash. Ella watched him closely for any sign of how he was feeling about what she’d said, but his facial expression never changed as he made his way through the dark and very crowded aisles of the garage.

“Justin?” She was confused when he passed a few empty parking spaces on the terminal side.

“Yeah?” He took another ramp up to the next level and crept along until he found a corner spot at the very far end. It was dark, surrounded by other cars and he backed in neatly. He turned the engine off, unbuckled his seatbelt and pressed the button that would move the driver’s seat backward. That was when he looked at her. Finally, looked at her. “What time is your flight?”

She looked down at her boarding pass. “In an hour and a half.”

“Okay, so we got a few minutes.”

“For what? Justin, are we okay? I mean… What I said was….”

He reached over and depressed her seatbelt latch, put her purse on the floor at her feet and took her hand. “Climb over here,” he said, unzipping his jeans and pulling his cock out.

He was rock hard, the head poking just a bit outside the foreskin. He stroked it slowly, watching her, his eyes a stormy gray-green, and for the life of her she couldn’t tell what he was thinking or feeling. Well, other than the fact he was aroused, but that wasn’t anything new.

He motioned for her. “C’mon, Ella. Crawl over to me. You know you want to.”

She damn sure did. Whatever her admission to loving him meant to him, it didn’t diminish his desire or lust for her. That was a good sign, right?

What was left of the pastry went back into its bag and up on the dash. She turned in her seat and leaned forward toward him, pulled one leg up on the cushion and worked her way over the center console. He helped her straddle his thighs, and with hands on her waist, lowered her slightly until the head of his cock rubbed against the soaking wet crotch of her panties.

A smile crossed his lips. “Told you I’d find you wet.”

Ella did nothing more than nod. No use denying it or trying to defend it. It was just what he did to her, the effect he had on her body. She wasn’t ashamed of it and even reveled in it. No one had ever made her feel this beautiful, this sexy just by the way he looked at her and knew her body, sometimes better than she knew it. “Condom?”

He nodded and pulled her close for a kiss, sweet and slow, just a meeting and melding of lips. But the second his tongue reached out, his hand was in her hair, grasping and tugging, holding her prisoner against him, willing though she may be.

Her fists gripped his shirt, her hips moved, sliding her silky panties over his cock head. The kiss deepened and mutual moans of pleasure echoed around the interior of the truck. He pulled her head back and leaned forward to bite her chin. She thrust her hips toward him and sank down, little by little. His cock pushed against her panties, pushed them inside her. She lifted and lowered herself again.

“Naughty girl. You keep that up and I’m going to come on those panties.”

Ella moaned. She didn’t care. She wanted him to. She wanted him to come on her, in her, because of her, about her. Her skirt slid up her legs and she wrapped her hands around his head, laying her cheek against his hair and fucked his cock head with her panties still covering her pussy.

“Shit, baby.”

Justin reached between their bodies and as she lifted, he pulled her panties to the side and pushed himself up inside her. His hands grabbed her ass, and he fucked her.

It wasn’t soft and tender and loving. And she didn’t care. She never cared with him. She liked it hard and fast and rough. She liked when he would lose control and take her, take what he wanted from her body.

“Condom, Justin,” she said softly into the heated truck.

“No, I know. Baby, I know.” He just kept fucking her, bouncing her on his cock, on his lap, his hands hitting his thighs when she’d slide down.

Their first time without a condom was in his truck. Ella might have laughed if she’d had the breath for it. As it was, her breathing was labored, her skin slick with sweat, her eyes fogged and unfocused. She was riding him in the parking garage of the Dallas/Fort Worth International Airport, and for that moment, she didn’t care that he didn’t wear a condom. She only wanted the slide of his cock inside her, hard up inside her. She was the only woman he’d been with for the last year, and he was the only man she’d been with in longer than that as she and her ex hadn’t been sexually active for the last few years of their marriage.

She worked one hand between them much as he had when he pushed her panties out of the way. She reached for her clit, lifted up on her knees a little more, which made his lift higher too. She pressed her pelvis against his belly and ground her finger onto her clit, rocking her hips, taking the control of the fuck long enough to…

“Oh God, Justin,” she panted. “Oh God, oh shit.”

He reached up and wrapped his hands around her shoulders from behind and provided some resistance to her lifting. He was holding her down in the only way he could from their position, and she lost it. He gave her the fuck but held onto the control of her.

The orgasm drenched them both and in one smooth motion, he lifted her and pulled out of her. “Put your panties in place,” he said, his gaze transfixed between her legs.

Shaking, Ella pulled her hand from her panties and righted the material, screen-printed with cupcakes. Her body still squeezed on the inside, her eyes were unfocused and her heart threatened to beat right out of her chest.

He angled her hips forward with an arm around her ass. “Lean back and hold that position right there. Careful not to push the horn.” He winked.

With his other hand, he jacked off. He pushed against her panties again and stroked his cock in his fist. She stared down at the masturbation scene before her, stared at his hand moving up and down on the shaft, sliding the foreskin back and forth over the tip. His hips were lifting, and she raised her arms above her head and pushed into the roof of the truck.

His breathing was labored and his eyes were narrowed. Their gazes locked and stayed that way, even as he started to come, the force of the sperm from his cock shooting sensation against her clit where the head was separated from it by her panties.

He grunted through his orgasm and his body jerked slightly, and then stiffened until the last of the semen left him. He sighed heavily and leaned his head against his seat. His gaze was on her as hers was on him. He began rubbing his come into her panties, some into her thighs, more under the waistband of her panties.

“You’re going to smell like me. I love that you’re going to smell like me.”

“Justin,” she said. “People will smell sex on me, yes. I should change panties.” It was a token protest at best. They both knew if he wanted her to smell like sex, then she would smell like sex. It was becoming more and more apparent to her that she wanted to play his little games. She was fucking him in a parking garage in broad daylight. Anyone could have seen them. Anyone could have called the cops. Hell, security could have happened upon them. In the heat of the moment, she hadn’t cared. Kind of like when they had left Birmingham. Taking off her panties in the parking lot. Opening her shirt so her bra could be seen. Oral sex at the rest area. Flashing her ass to the truckers.

Justin liked exposing her where they might or might not get caught. The thing that made it okay, made it better, made her want it more was that he was willing to expose himself too. He would stand by her, stick with her and take the brunt of anything if someone caught them.

He was slowly, or rather not so slowly, showing her the risk of being vulnerable. The pleasure of such was high if she trusted him, and his protection of her was worth everything.

“I want them to smell sex on you. I want them to smell
me
on you.”

“It’ll single me out. I don’t like that.”

“Why not?”

“Because you won’t be with me.” That was the crux of the matter. She was helpless and hopeless in the best of ways when it came to him, especially when he was with her, but when he wasn’t, when she was on her own, she was shy, uncertain in most things save her job. Divorce had been a big personal chance she had taken on her own and she’d made a life by herself, but she honestly didn’t want to live alone or exist alone. Sure she had friends, but what she really wanted was a lover, a man to share life with. She’d had a man, but not a lover and well, hell, she needed and craved and hungered for the lover part of the equation. It was as important as talking and communicating. At least to her. She’d lived enough years with just talking and no real communication, no intimacy or physical affection that being lonely had been inevitable.

She didn’t want that again. She didn’t want to be alone. She’d learned she could do it—she just didn’t want to. She didn’t want the dating scene either. Her single friends from work had enough horror stories about trying to date that Ella didn’t want to venture into those waters.

She wanted Justin.

“I’m always with you, baby. Every word I’ve ever said to you is either inside your head or just a push of an app button away in your email.”

And that was true. “But you won’t be there holding my hand or there for me to hide my face against.”

“Why would you want to hide? Hell baby, you know how many people would be envious of what we’ve been doing the last two days?”

She didn’t know, but she could remember when she had been envious of people who had that same kind of wild and crazy sex life. If anyone had told her a year ago that she’d be sitting in the lap of a twenty-nine-year-old bartender-fireman in an airport parking garage having sex, she’d have told them they were just shy of admittance to the nut house.

Yet here she was.

If anyone had told her a year ago that she’d be divorced and
free
to be having sex in the lap of a twenty-nine-year-old bartender-fireman, she’d have told them they were a few watts short of a light bulb. She’d have immediately hoped for and wanted it, but she wouldn’t have believed it possible, wouldn’t have believed herself fed up enough with mediocre and status quo.

Yet there she was.

“I need to go,” she said.

“I don’t think so, Ella.”

“Justin, the time.” She looked at her watch. “I—”

“Not that.”

“Then what?”

His hands gripped the hair that framed her face. He twisted his fingers in the strands and held her head immobile, his gaze intense and dark, mesmerizing. She was once again amazed at the many different facets of her cowboy’s personality. “I don’t
think
I love you. I don’t
think
you think you love me either. I
know
I love you. I’ve known for a long-ass time that I loved you, and we’ve both known you love me too.”

“Justin, I—”

“You’re just scared to say it without qualification or justification and that’s okay. You’ll get there.”