Dampness spread between her legs, more noticeable and swift than she’d ever encountered before. The need to touch herself and find relief became tantamount. Choppy breathing was a disjointed echo in her ears, telling her it needed to be now. Now. Now.
But not here. No way. Not where Sarge would see her and know how she’d been affected. Although “affected” was such a silly term for the pressing need to use her fingers on the rapidly dampening flesh inside her underwear.
The car. It would have to be her car.
More than a little irritated that she’d been reduced to auto-masturbation, but too turned on to talk herself off the ledge, Jasmine took a few hurried steps, snatched up the keys and spun toward the door—
“Jas?” came Sarge’s sleep-roughened voice behind her. “What…?”
Knowing she absolutely shouldn’t, but apparently residing in a self-destructive realm that morning, she peeked over her shoulder, her desire taking on a whole new meaning. Sarge, clearly regaining more and more consciousness by the moment, had wrapped his hand around his erection, abs flexing as he attempted to sit up. Then he did something that seemed to suspend all time and space.
His fist descended in one single hip-thrusting stroke as he watched her.
Mother of God.
Jasmine booked it, chanting the words “too young, too young, too young” as she slammed out of the apartment and down the stairwell to the parking lot, located behind the building. A tremor ran through her hand as she unlocked the car and slipped into the passenger seat, her breath puffing out white in front of her. She didn’t bother putting the keys in the ignition. There was no time. She simply tossed them on the passenger seat, fumbling with breathless anticipation to unzip jeans pulled on with such resolve minutes earlier. Resolve that incinerated with the act of slipping seeking fingers down the front of her panties.
“Yes. Oh God,” Jasmine moaned as her middle finger and forefinger met her clit. Her chest heaved, thighs widening as she treated the starved bud to quick, no-nonsense strokes. The quickening that began in her loins was immediate and powerful, a thunderbolt across a black night sky. Her flesh grew slippery beneath the pads of her fingers, the sounds of her gasps bouncing off the car’s interior. The orgasm loomed as her heels pressed down, digging into the driver’s side footwell. Christ, she just needed to take the edge off before it sharpened any further—
The passenger side door opened, jolting Jasmine on the seat. She knew it was Sarge. She knew the moment cool air invaded the car and purred over her fevered skin, yet did nothing to cool her need. Looking toward the passenger side to confirm he’d followed her was pointless—deep down she’d known he’d come, hadn’t she?—so Jasmine threw her head back on the seat as the door clicked closed, eyes sealed shut.
Her own wrist was circled by a rough, masculine hold and yanked free of her underwear. One slow-motion beat passed. Two. Almost as if he was waiting for her to protest, but she’d shut down her better judgment in favor of almighty relief. As long as she didn’t open her eyes. She would hold on to that safeguard at all costs, despite the fact that it only made sense to her overwrought mind.
She heard Sarge’s weight shift closer on the neighboring seat…and—callused fingers dragged over her shuddering belly. Lower, lower until they met the pulsing bud begging for attention between her legs, teasing with a light downward rub that nonetheless set off a bomb blast inside her. Jasmine’s broken moan pierced the air, answered by Sarge’s guttural grunt, making her future climax burn even brighter, more intense as he shoved his mouth up against her ear and shook out a scalding breath.
“Liked what you saw, baby?”
Yes. Goddammit, yes. Jasmine stabbed her teeth into her bottom lip to contain the harsh sentiment, praying her silence wouldn’t make him stop. The car’s interior seemed to close in around her, the sounds of passing traffic on the nearby street doing nothing to detract from the extreme sense of airlessness. Stark, enfolding intimacy. They were the only two people awake, right here, right now, and she would die if he didn’t deliver what she needed. There was no chance of that, though, because Sarge’s mouth found the skin behind her ear and introduced it to his tongue, just as two big fingers slid down on either side of her clit, caging sacred flesh between rough knuckles.
“This is what I’ve been chasing. Fuck. Right here. You want to know how long you’ve been teasing me with this pussy?” A light pinch of her nub made her knees jerk together on a gasp. “I’m going to tell you anyway, but a yes would make my cock harder. Say yes—now—so I can replay it later and pretend you’re whispering it from your knees and unzipping my goddamn jeans.”
“You’re—” Jasmine broke off as he shoved his middle finger into her heat, pushing deeper until she screamed his name. Even then, he didn’t stop, grinding his fist against her damp flesh, a motion that twisted his middle finger inside her. Static crackled inside her ears, a weightless tickle beginning midthigh. If he didn’t stop, this would be over quick. So quick. But that was what she wanted, right? Yes, but she hadn’t expected to be overwhelmed so completely. “You’re not…last night, you said you w-wouldn’t talk like that anymore.”
“It doesn’t feel like you want me to stop talking, Jas. It feels like just seeing my cock already has you halfway to busting.” He scraped his stubble up the side of her neck. “If you’d just crawled into bed with me, I’d have made you sit on it. Bet you would have ridden me hard enough to break the bed. So soaked, you would have slid all over my fucking lap like some kind of dream.”
Jasmine’s inner walls clenched around his finger with so much power, her head slammed back against the seat. “Oh…oh no. Sarge, this is—”
“So bad it’s good. So good it’s bad.” His voice was sharp-edged and sexy beside her ear. “Stop overthinking it, baby, and open your legs to get fingered.”
It was easy to do what he said, because he didn’t speak like the Sarge of her recollection. This man, this brutal, uncompromising man, was a naughty fantasy come to life, even though compared to the treatment he was inflicting on her body and senses, her fantasies prior to now had been watered-down garbage. She’d never been this hot in her life, never felt the tide between her hips rise so high. If she wasn’t careful, it would immerse her…but caution was a presence inside her breastbone, preventing her complete downfall. So yes, yes, she opened her legs and felt his thick finger slip deeper, felt the heel of his hand fondle her clit.
“Good,” Sarge growled. “Now I’m going to tell you how long you’ve tortured me with this pretty daydream between your thighs.”
He reached across her body and yanked open her hastily thrown-on jacket, before lifting the hem of her T-shirt to expose the puckered breasts straining inside her bra. Jasmine’s eyes were closed, but she could practically feel his expression shift into one of awe, but that image messed with her head, so she pictured lust instead.
One abrasive palm skated slowly across her cleavage. “I saw you. Changing for bed one night when you probably thought no one was home besides you and my sister.” The thrusting of his fingers between her legs picked up speed, as if compelled by whatever his memory was projecting. In deep, out shallow, in deep…again. Again. “I was just walking down the hallway, saw you through a crack in the door. You had on tight purple underwear and no shirt…on your knees going through your overnight bag.” She heard him swallow hard. “They were tugged to the side, just a little, so I could see some of your pussy, baby. But it was enough to know I’d never—ever—stop thinking about getting inside of it.”