“What?” I ask, glancing at him.

“Nothing,” he says in a quiet voice. But he doesn’t stop staring at me.

“Bullshit,” I respond, not looking at him.

“Fine,” Stone huffs. “I was just thinking about how we were so rudely interrupted.”

I frown and glance at him. Is he playing a game with me? “What?” I ask.

He smiles. “You heard me,” he says, his voice low as he leans toward me. “I was imagining how wet you’d be right now if my fingers were still touching you.”

I feel my throat close and I become lightheaded as he speaks. Determined not to let him see how much he affects me, I ignore his comments and focus on driving. Sometime later, I jump as I feel his long fingers caress the outside of my thigh. I glance over again, and he gives me such a heart-stopping grin that I feel my heart turn over in my chest. “Stop it,” I mumble, turning my attention back to the road. But he doesn’t.

I feel his fingers move higher until they brush the edge of my short skirt and slide beneath. I swallow hard and try to ignore him as his warm hand gently spreads my legs open. Then he’s touching me. My mouth opens slightly, my breathing growing short as his fingers caress me through my panties. He has to stop, or in a matter of minutes we’re going to cause an accident. I try to press my thighs together, but all that succeeds in doing is trapping his hand between my legs. My eyes dart over at him again, his white teeth flashing in the dark as he grins. I shift uncomfortably and open my legs enough for him to slip his hand out and settle back on his side.

Leaning forward I turn on the radio, trying to drown out the sounds from Keets and Ruth in the backseat. How much have they had to drink? Settling back against the seat, both hands grip the wheel as the melodic sounds of Norah Jones’ “Come Away With Me” comes through the speakers. My favorite song.

We drive in silence the rest of the way, the only sounds the occasional kiss from the backseat and the music still playing on the radio. I pull up to Keets’ house, not at all surprised when Ruth gets out with him. I hope they know what they’re doing, and won’t regret it later.

“Don’t come into work tomorrow,” I say out the window. “I’ll look after the bar.”

“You sure?” Keets asks, leaning down to look through the window.

“Yeah,” I say. “I haven’t drunk half as much as you guys.”

“I’ll say.” Keets laughs, inclining his head to the passenger seat.

I turn my head, a smile spreading across my face as I see Stone sleeping soundly, his hands curled beneath his head against the window. “Where does he live?” I ask, turning back to Keets with a grin.

“Right near the stables,” he says. “The little blue cottage down the lane.”

I know exactly where it is.

“I’ll see you later.” I laugh, waving out the window to Ruth as Keets steps back and I pull slowly away from the house.

By the time I arrive at Stone’s house, I’m exhausted, starting to feel the effects of the alcohol.

Cutting the ignition, I remove my seatbelt and sit there for a minute, staring at Stone as he sleeps. How the hell am I going to get him to drive me home? Can I risk it? Surely my life is worth more than that.

Sitting up a little straighter, I tentatively stretch one index finger out toward him. “Stone?” I say quietly, poking him on the arm. He groans in his sleep and shifts a little, letting his head fall back against the seat. I open the door and step out. Moving around to the passenger side, I carefully open his door and lean in. I draw in a deep, shaky breath and lick my suddenly dry lips. He’s so close, and he smells so damn good. A combination of musky aftershave and cheap beer. I start to feel a little lightheaded. Christ, I could get drunk just on his smell.

I wonder how I’m going to wake him up. I could always try kissing him. He’s so close; it would take just a small movement from me for our lips to connect . . .

I squeal as I feel strong fingers digging into the backs of my thighs, then I’m falling. I swallow hard as I land heavily on Stone’s lap, his hands on my ass as I straddle him.

He buries his face between my neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply. “You smell so fucking good,” he growls. My breath catches. The feral sound he just let slip past his lips is hotter than anything I’ve ever heard before. His fingers caress the soft skin of my ass and thighs, and I force myself to breathe. To remain calm. “You were asleep,” I whisper.

“I’m awake now,” he retorts.

“And you’re drunk.”

“So?”

He spoke so much with that single word. So what if we barely know each other? So what if he’s drunk? So what if I regret it tomorrow? Why shouldn’t I take this opportunity, tempting as it is, and make the most of tonight?

Because deep down, I know I’m not the sort of girl who indulges in one-night stands. I’m attracted to Stone, but I won’t act on it. Not tonight. “I need you to drive me home,” I say in a small voice, avoiding his eyes as his fingers continue to make lazy circles across my skin.

“Stay.”

My eyes dart up, my mouth open slightly in shock, and he takes advantage of it. Slanting his head, Stone covers my mouth with his own, his tongue probing, searching. It takes just seconds for me to respond, wrapping my arms around his neck as I moan into his mouth. He deepens the kiss, his fingers digging into my soft flesh as I feel his cock harden through his jeans, pressing between my legs. The seam of the denim is in the perfect position, and I rock myself back and forth a few times, feeling a delicious pull low in my stomach. He growls as he grabs my hips, pushing me up so that the edge of my ass rests on the dashboard in front of him, my legs on either side of his head. It’s an awkward position, and I have to lean my back against the cold glass of the windshield, ducking my head down a little. He scoots forward and places a soft kiss against my knee, his fingertips trailing along the sensitive skin of my calf. My breath hitches as he raises his darkened eyes to mine.

“Are these your favorite panties?” he asks, his hand sliding higher to finger the lacy thong I’m wearing beneath the mini skirt.

“N-no,” I stammer, my breath harsh in the quiet car. I gasp as I hear the lace tear. I don’t have time to complain, because a second later his head is between my legs . . . his mouth on me. My head hits the windshield as I lean back and part my lips. His mouth is doing all sorts of wonderful things to me, and I yelp in a combination of pleasure and pain as his teeth lightly graze across my sensitive clit. Stone’s lips latch onto my clit as he grips my thigh with one hand, the other probing at my slick entrance, seeking permission. I groan as I fist my hands in his hair, urging his mouth closer as he presses first one finger deep inside, then another. “Stone,” I whimper, feeling the pressure build low in my stomach. It’s so much . . . too much. His mouth sucks my clit hard, then lets it out with a pop, only to take it once more. His fingers keep a steady rhythm as he makes a ‘come here’ gesture on my insides. I cry out as I contract around his hand and he increases the speed of his fingers, the suction of his mouth. Stone uses his tongue to flick a firm pattern directly on my clit and I explode, calling his name as I come hard.

Stone tears his lips away, resting his forehead against my thigh, breathing hard.

We stay like that for at least two minutes, our breathing harsh in the quiet car, neither one of us wanting to speak first. “Stay,” Stone finally repeats, pulling me down off the dashboard and into his lap. I feel the heat from his arousal against my sensitive core as he brushes a lock of hair out of my eyes. “I can’t,” I whisper, unable to tear my eyes away from his piercing stare.

“I’m not asking you for anything, Shannon,” he assures me, kissing my eyelids. “Just stay for the night. I’ll be a perfect gentleman, but I’m too drunk to drive you home.”