Bruiser leaned his head against the headrest, pretty sure he’d just died from sheer fucking pleasure, because he couldn’t remember how to breathe, and he was pretty certain his heart had stopped beating. Mac might have done all the physical work, but he was exhausted from the ride.
“The ferry will dock in Seattle in ten minutes. Please return to the car deck,” the captain alerted them over the ferry’s loudspeakers.
Mac blinked several times and slowly sat up. She wiped her face with a tissue and glanced around, as if disoriented. Hell, he knew that feeling.
With a sigh, Bruiser pulled up his briefs and pants.
For several long minutes, neither of them said a word.
“It’s your turn.” Bruiser believed in giving as good as he got.
“But we’re almost at the dock.” Mac’s eyes were glassy and unfocused. Pretty much how he felt.
“This isn’t finished yet. Not by a long shot. Your house or mine?” Oh, yeah, baby. They’d take this well into the night. Sleep was greatly overrated.
“Mine. I have to feed the cat.”
Bruiser burst out laughing. “That’s my job.”
She stared at him as if he’d gone mad. “Your job? You don’t like cats.”
“Oh, honey, I like pussies just fine. And yours definitely needs to be fed.”
Her slow smile was his reward. “Is that a promise?”
“You betcha.”
Not only was it a promise, it was a pledge.
* * * * *
Brain malfunction was an acceptable reason for what Mac had just done and was about to do.
She glanced at Bruiser, who gripped the steering wheel with white-knuckled concentration and stared straight ahead. He hadn’t said a word since they’d left the ferry terminal. Sunday traffic worked in their favor, and in a matter of minutes, they were speeding down the freeway.
The silence wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, it seemed to fit both their moods. Mac stared out the window, hypnotized by the white line as it sped past. A quick glance at the dash clock told her the night was young. It was only about six-thirty, which left plenty of sheet time with a hot man and a sexually starved woman. Stupid or not, it was going to be a good night all night long.
She glanced at Bruiser’s face. His strong profile with that oh-so-sexy cleft in his chin accentuated by his more-than-a-five-o’clock shadow brought forth all kinds of naughty fantasies, starting with his beard scraping across her face, her nipples, her thighs. Damn, she was so wet between the legs she was glad she wasn’t wearing slacks, or there’d be visible evidence of her arousal.
Bruiser exited the freeway and slipped one hand off the steering wheel and up her thigh, then he rubbed her crotch in a circular motion.
“You’re driving,” she gasped.
“Honey, it’s my turn to torture you a little, and pretty soon I’ll be driving more than this car.”
“But right now, you’re driving this car—or should be.”
“I can take care of that.” He wrenched the wheel, sending her sprawling across his lap. “Now, that’s much better.”
Pulling into a parking garage, he drove to the top floor, past a smattering of parked cars to a dark corner between a concrete pillar and the wall. “So whaddya think, honey? Will this do?”
Oh, God, would it ever. Just get me naked now. “I never knew you had a thing for public sex.”
“I have a thing for all kinds of sex, and I can’t make it home without tasting you first.” Bruiser shot her his panty-dropping smile, and she melted all over him like chocolate left on a dashboard on a sunny day. Taking a quick glance around, he leaned over the console and hiked her skirt up to her waist in front.
“Nice,” he said as he gazed down at her lacy pink underwear. “Do you wear panties like this under your work clothes? ’Cause if you do, I’ll never be able to work out when you’re in the vicinity without imagining a more horizontal workout.”
She nodded, mute but fired up for action. Bruiser put a gentle hand on her chin. She parted her lips and waited. He didn’t let her down. He kissed one corner of her mouth and licked his way to the other corner before he took her mouth with a full-on frontal assault. His lips pressed against hers, and his glorious blond stubble rubbed across her face. His kiss was hot, hard, and demanding, full of promise and full of expectations. She so wanted to meet those expectations. The pretty boy and the plain girl. What a weird pair. What a perfect pair. Chemistry worked in mysterious ways.
Bruiser cupped the back of her head as he deepened the kiss like he wanted to eat her up. His other hand didn’t stay idle. He slipped it under the crotch of her panties and found her wet and willing. Pulling back for a moment, Bruiser offered a slow, knowing smile.
“You’re wet for me.”
Mac nodded and pulled his face back to hers, marauding his mouth like a female conqueror. Bruiser didn’t protest, not one damn bit. His finger slipped deep inside her, and he moved it in and out while his tongue made love to her mouth.
Just when she was certain she’d die, the tease stopped kissing her. Mac moaned in protest until he pulled her legs across the console, grasped her waist, and lifted her hips into the air. With her legs draped across his shoulders, he held her crotch to his face and began to feast.
And oh my God, did he feast. Mac turned into a limp rag doll, not caring that the console pressed into her back and her toes were hitting the driver’s-side window. Nothing mattered, and any amount of discomfort made it all worth it to have Bruiser’s face buried between her legs.
He slipped his tongue between her folds and plunged it deep while sucking her juices. Reinserting his finger, Bruiser used it along
