still reaches the top of his collar.
He turns back around to face me, and his carefree smile has vanished and been replaced with an expression that couldn’t be mistaken for anything but disappointment. Oh no, Macgregor, you’ve done it now.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so disapproving. It was just the shock of it. That’s all.” I try for a reassuring smile, but he’s still reluctant to believe me.
He needs more convincing, so I tuck a loose strand behind his ear and break out the smitten teenager smile. He bursts out laughing and pulls me back into his warm embrace for another heart-stopping kiss.
His tongue tastes like fine wine, and I drink him in as if I’m dying of thirst. I don’t care who is watching or if it’s a little forward for the second date. I want this man, and I’m going to have him. I don’t know how long he’ll be here, so I’m treating every day as if it’s the last. No regrets, Macgregor!
I suck his tongue into my mouth and swirl my tongue around his until he moans in delight. His fingers tighten on the small of my back, and I know I’ve got him right where I want him. As he pulls his tongue back, I bite his bottom lip and nibble a trail across its pouty fullness. Then for good measure I give him one last quick peck on the lips and step back to gauge his expression.
His green eyes are simmering with desire. The look he gives me is purely carnal, and it heats the juncture between my thighs until I feel moisture dampen my panties. I am so ready for this man to take me. My body is throwing signals in every direction in the hopes he’ll catch at least one.
“You’re so eager, Sulwen. And believe me when I tell you I’m only too eager to accommodate you, but not yet, and certainly not here.” I love the way he pronounces my name. He says it the way it was meant to be pronounced. Not the masculine “Sul-win” as Americans pronounce it, but the way my dad used to say it: “ Sil -wen.” It sounds feminine when he says it, and for some reason that simple little effort warms my heart.
He pecks me on the lips and escorts me to the passenger side and into my seat. I quickly shove the condoms into my purse and fasten my seat belt. I’m still recovering from my hormonal breakdown on the sidewalk. I’m surprised I didn’t dry hump his leg. For Christ’s sake, Sulwen, what the hell is wrong with you? For the first time in my life, I’m going to be a sure thing. No need for flowers or fine dining. This girl is ready for the horizontal mamba.
He climbs into the driver’s seat and buckles up. I have no idea where we’re going, so my hands work the leather strap to my purse nervously. I’m trying to keep my cool and look composed, but I’m failing miserably. Something about him completely disarms me to the point of ignorance.
The car is silent as we move out of the city and onto the interstate. The radio is playing in the background, and I think I hear some Nickelback. Oh, good…at least it’s not country music. I hate country music. For some reason when I listen to country I fall into a melancholy mood for days on end. It’s so damn depressing to listen to people sing about breaking up, cheating husbands, and slutty wives. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure country has great artists, just none that work for me and my taste in music.
My mind drifts off into the land of ADD while we continue our peaceful commute. I honestly can’t hold a single train of thought for more than a couple of minutes today. My mind is all over the place, and Logan seems content with letting me drift.
We’re traveling down the interstate, and since my directional abilities were skipped in my genetic makeup, I’m already at a loss as to where we are or where we’re headed. So I chance looking at my sexy driver and ask, “Where are we going?”
He glances at me and smiles a sneaky smile. He’s up to something, and I’m afraid I’m going to love it.
“You’ll see. You don’t have to
He turns back around to face me, and his carefree smile has vanished and been replaced with an expression that couldn’t be mistaken for anything but disappointment. Oh no, Macgregor, you’ve done it now.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so disapproving. It was just the shock of it. That’s all.” I try for a reassuring smile, but he’s still reluctant to believe me.
He needs more convincing, so I tuck a loose strand behind his ear and break out the smitten teenager smile. He bursts out laughing and pulls me back into his warm embrace for another heart-stopping kiss.
His tongue tastes like fine wine, and I drink him in as if I’m dying of thirst. I don’t care who is watching or if it’s a little forward for the second date. I want this man, and I’m going to have him. I don’t know how long he’ll be here, so I’m treating every day as if it’s the last. No regrets, Macgregor!
I suck his tongue into my mouth and swirl my tongue around his until he moans in delight. His fingers tighten on the small of my back, and I know I’ve got him right where I want him. As he pulls his tongue back, I bite his bottom lip and nibble a trail across its pouty fullness. Then for good measure I give him one last quick peck on the lips and step back to gauge his expression.
His green eyes are simmering with desire. The look he gives me is purely carnal, and it heats the juncture between my thighs until I feel moisture dampen my panties. I am so ready for this man to take me. My body is throwing signals in every direction in the hopes he’ll catch at least one.
“You’re so eager, Sulwen. And believe me when I tell you I’m only too eager to accommodate you, but not yet, and certainly not here.” I love the way he pronounces my name. He says it the way it was meant to be pronounced. Not the masculine “Sul-win” as Americans pronounce it, but the way my dad used to say it: “ Sil -wen.” It sounds feminine when he says it, and for some reason that simple little effort warms my heart.
He pecks me on the lips and escorts me to the passenger side and into my seat. I quickly shove the condoms into my purse and fasten my seat belt. I’m still recovering from my hormonal breakdown on the sidewalk. I’m surprised I didn’t dry hump his leg. For Christ’s sake, Sulwen, what the hell is wrong with you? For the first time in my life, I’m going to be a sure thing. No need for flowers or fine dining. This girl is ready for the horizontal mamba.
He climbs into the driver’s seat and buckles up. I have no idea where we’re going, so my hands work the leather strap to my purse nervously. I’m trying to keep my cool and look composed, but I’m failing miserably. Something about him completely disarms me to the point of ignorance.
The car is silent as we move out of the city and onto the interstate. The radio is playing in the background, and I think I hear some Nickelback. Oh, good…at least it’s not country music. I hate country music. For some reason when I listen to country I fall into a melancholy mood for days on end. It’s so damn depressing to listen to people sing about breaking up, cheating husbands, and slutty wives. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure country has great artists, just none that work for me and my taste in music.
My mind drifts off into the land of ADD while we continue our peaceful commute. I honestly can’t hold a single train of thought for more than a couple of minutes today. My mind is all over the place, and Logan seems content with letting me drift.
We’re traveling down the interstate, and since my directional abilities were skipped in my genetic makeup, I’m already at a loss as to where we are or where we’re headed. So I chance looking at my sexy driver and ask, “Where are we going?”
He glances at me and smiles a sneaky smile. He’s up to something, and I’m afraid I’m going to love it.
“You’ll see. You don’t have to
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