Looking for Trouble. Victoria Dahl

      Alex raised his head, pulling back from the kiss even as she tried to follow. He kept his hand cupped to her neck, holding her still as he feathered a kiss over her top lip. Then her bottom one. Then the crease of her mouth. The tip of her tongue licked at him, and he chuckled and tasted her again. He couldn’t resist it, but the kiss was quick this time, then he raised his head to look down at her.

      Her face was silver in the moonlight, her pupils black as the sky when she opened her eyes.

      “You shouldn’t be doing this with a stranger,” he said.

      “This is a small town. You’re not really a stranger.”

      Alex shook his head, knowing that wasn’t true. “No one here knows me anymore.”

      She closed her eyes and raised her mouth, and when Alex kissed her again, she whispered against him, “No one knows me either.”

      He could believe that. He understood that. She was a secret, right here among people she’d known all her life.

      Alex bunched her skirt in his hand and raised one side of it, sliding it up her leg, waiting for her to stop him. She didn’t. His hand touched bare skin, then the warm strap of her garter belt. Jesus.

      “Do you wear these to drive men crazy?” he growled.

      He felt her smile against his jaw. “I wear them to drive me crazy.”

      Damn. He’d thought he was hard before, but now he was in pain. Yes, she was a secret, and his hand was on the hot skin of her thigh.

      He gripped her there, and her knee rose, just a few inches, just enough for her to curl her foot behind his calf and make space between her legs for him. His cock notched into place. He groaned against her neck and felt her throaty laugh vibrate through him.

      “But...” she murmured, “I’m glad they drive you a little crazy, too.”

      “A little,” he rasped, sliding his hand over the back of her thigh. The slippery fabric of her panties teased his thumb. He slid his hand low again, dragging it over the stocking, memorizing the wicked feel of bare flesh above silky material. His rough hand caught at the delicate threads. “Sorry,” he whispered, trying to make himself feel that, but he couldn’t. Her hips tipped up a little, like she liked it. Did she? That his hands were rough against her perfection? Did she want that?

      He let his fingers curl all the way behind her knee, then up again, up. Over silk stocking, and the bump of the fastener and then sweet bare skin. And then...

      “Oh,” she whimpered as the edge of his hand grazed between her legs, slipping along the fabric of her panties. His thumb edged beneath them as he cupped the bottom of her ass and hauled her tighter to his cock.

      Her hips rocked against him. Alex closed his eyes and tried not to moan like a boy dry-humping his first girlfriend. But it felt that good, and his heart pounded with the shocking pleasure of it, just as it had in junior high.

      Maybe it was something in the air. A perk of returning to the same sights and smells he’d hit puberty with. Or maybe it was that his whole hand was under her panties now, cupping her naked ass while she slowly, slowly worked herself against his torturously covered shaft.

      For a moment, he imagined it. Unzipping his jeans, setting his cock free, pulling her underwear to the side, then just plunging deep, feeling her pussy drag hot and wet over him as he sank into her body. She’d love it. She’d arch up and ride him and come all over him, screaming and bucking.

      And then they’d be done.

      Somehow he knew that, and he didn’t want this done. Not that quickly.

      So instead of setting his throbbing cock free, Alex edged back and eased her leg down. Her eyes opened slowly as a confused and nearly grumpy frown took her mouth, but when he slipped his hand down the front of her panties, her lips parted on a sigh.

      His did, too. There was nothing but bare skin under that little triangle of satin fabric. Bare skin, and plump lips, and sweet, hot wetness that led his fingers right where they wanted to go.

      Taking it slow or not, Alex now wished they were inside. In his sad, anonymous hotel room, in the dreary light of that bedside lamp, on worn white sheets, so he could strip off this dress and these panties and fucking see her. God. The stockings and garter belt and perfect, parting legs and the pinkness of her, shining with wetness, begging for his mouth, his hands, his cock.

      This was torture, sliding his fingers along her, feeling the way her hips jumped as he grazed her clit, and all of her was hidden by the modest skirt of her dress. He grazed her clit again, and the hand that had been clutching his biceps let him go and curved around the top of the railing to hold tight.

      “Oh, God,” she groaned.

      Power flooded his veins. He was going to make her come right here. Right now. A truck roared by, the pale edge of light skimming down her neck and body and highlighting the way his arm disappeared beneath her skirt. She didn’t even glance toward the road, though she did murmur, “We shouldn’t be doing this.” But it wasn’t an admonition. It was encouragement. He could hear the eager edge of it in her voice and feel it in the way her thighs eased the tiniest bit farther apart.

      We shouldn’t be doing this and that’s why it’s so good.

      Her eyes opened. “We really shouldn’t,” she whispered, sounding almost sad this time, but then her free hand slipped up his neck and pulled him down.

      God. Yes. Now his tongue was in her hot, wet mouth and his fingers were in her hot, wet pussy and she whimpered into him as he took her both ways.

      He pushed two fingers deep inside her and swallowed her wild cry.

      Her nails bit into his neck, and when he thrust again, her second cry was just as rough as the first. He would’ve paused, would’ve gentled his touch, but her hips rocked up for more.

      Goose bumps broke out over his neck and down his arm as he realized that if he was hurting her...she liked it. His heart beat harder. So hard he could feel it in his throat as he fucked her with his fingers and she whimpered and sucked at his tongue.

      She wanted this. She fucking needed it.

      When her cries finally quieted to desperate whimpers, Alex slipped his fingers back to her clit and stroked her there.

      Her mouth broke free then as she threw back her head with a gasp, but he couldn’t stop thinking of the way she’d sucked at his tongue. Like that was part of her need, part of what she wanted. A girl like her deserved everything.

      He kept stroking her clit, listening to her breath grow rougher and faster, and he slid his other hand up her shoulder, up her neck, then spread his fingers over her jaw. Her neck arched higher, as she stretched under his touch. Her mouth was still red, lipstick perfect. He imagined that she bought lipstick with staying power just so she could look like this while she fucked.

      Alex slid his thumb between her parted lips, into her heat, and she sucked.

      The sensation punched him in the gut and made his desperate cock throb in pain.

      “Fuck,” he growled, sliding his thumb deeper as he circled her clit faster.

      She moaned and sucked harder, her hips working against his touch in tiny little thrusts, as if she couldn’t stop herself from fucking his hand.

      “That’s it,” he murmured, leaning in until his mouth was near her ear. “That’s what you like.” Her groan vibrated through the bones of his thumb and straight into his entire nervous system. Fuck, he wanted that pretty little red mouth around his cock. He wanted her moaning for him, sucking at him, trying to make him come, because that was what she fucking needed.

      The heat of her mouth slid away as she pulled back with a cry. The pain of her nails in his skin brightened as she clutched tighter. “Oh, God,” she sobbed as her hips jumped. Then her words dissolved on a sob of pleasure as he felt the spasms take her over. Her scream echoed down the