“Don’t worry about it.” He brushed a strand of hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear, unable to keep his hands to himself. “They were kind of expecting me to ditch them anyway. They’ll be fine calling a cab or catching a ride with someone else. They won’t be ready to leave for a while yet.” At least he hoped not. It wasn’t even ten o’clock. Unless they got really horny or something, they should stay and party for a while. Chris had become more tame since he and Megan got together and he started training for combines, but tomorrow was a light day, and from what he’d seen, Chris wasn’t drinking enough to get hungover. But Megan loved dancing, and according to Chris, things were even hotter in the sack when he took her dancing. Judging by the sounds that came from their room all the damn time, Chris wasn’t lying.
Hannah still looked conflicted, so he kissed her. He wanted to do more than kiss her. He wanted to strip her and ravage her, claim her again, erase the feeling of anyone else on her skin.
A growl came out of him at the thought of anyone else touching her. It was stupid and hypocritical, he knew, because he’d been the furthest thing from a monk you could get without tipping over into manwhore territory. He didn’t have the same reputation that Chris and Lance used to have. He’d actually date girls, have relationships, even if he did let the jersey chasers take the edge off when he was between girlfriends.
He broke off the kiss and tugged Hannah along. They moved as fast as her shoes would let her, trying to get out of the cold as quickly as possible. At the car, he pushed her against the passenger door, kissing her again. She pressed her breasts into his chest, her arms sliding around his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair, holding him to her as much as he pushed against her. He kissed and sucked and nipped a path down her neck to her collarbone, raising his head so he could look down at her cleavage, his palms stroking her over the fabric of her dress.
Her shiver brought him back to himself and the realization that they were severely underdressed to be outside on a January night. As though he needed the reminder, the wind picked up, slicing into them, heavy with the smell of coming rain, and goosebumps broke out all over their bare skin.
He smiled down at her, and her pink lips, now swollen from his kiss, turned up at the corners. Reaching for the handle, he moved her out of the way and opened the door for her. He couldn’t resist bending down and kissing her once more after she got into the car.
She kissed him back for far too short of a time before pushing him away with a laugh. “Get in the car. I’m freezing.”
He laughed too and closed her door, hurrying to the driver’s side because she was right, he was freezing his balls off, and he’d like to keep those in working order. Cranking the heater as soon as he turned on the car set off a new round of shivers in Hannah, who sat huddled in the passenger seat in her curve-hugging dress with her arms pulled in tight to her torso, shoulders raised, and her hands clasped in front of her mouth.
He grabbed the sweatshirt he’d brought along from the back seat, dragging it forward and piling it in Hannah’s lap. “Here. This’ll help you get warm sooner.”
She picked it up, looking doubtful for half a second before pulling it over her head. The look of bliss on her face once she was enveloped in the soft fabric of his red MU Football sweatshirt sent blood straight to his cock, and he shifted in his seat, trying to make more room for the hard-on trying to bust out of his jeans. He couldn’t wait until he was the cause of that expression instead of his stupid sweatshirt.
“Better?”
She turned her face to him. “Hmm? Oh, yeah. Much better. Thanks.”
He wove his way through downtown traffic, moving slowly past the popular clubs and concert venues where people spilled out into the streets, some not bothering to look before wandering in front of oncoming traffic. Once they’d passed through the worst of it and were on the way to his house, he glanced over at Hannah. She sat rubbing her hands up and down her arms, a thoughtful look on her face. He wanted to reach over, touch her, distract her from those serious thoughts running behind her eyes. He wanted her attention back on him so he could keep her from second-guessing the wisdom of her decision. This wasn’t a time for thinking. It was a time for feeling, for riding the wave until it crested and broke, then see where they ended up.
Instead he asked, “Everything alright?”
“Yeah, fine.” She said it absently, almost automatically, not taking her eyes off the dark road illuminated by the car’s headlights.
“Hannah?”
“Hmm?” She turned to face him. The hazy look on her face cleared and a furrow appeared between her brows, a frown pulling at her sweet lips. She glanced around at the houses and trees as they passed. “Where are we going?”
He glanced at her, his hands flexing around the steering wheel, suddenly nervous, afraid that she’d ask him to take her home. “My house?” He hadn’t meant it to sound like a question, but that’s how it came out. “Is that okay?”
When he looked over at her again, the furrow had deepened, and she was examining him. “I’m not going to have sex with you.”
He chuckled, glad she didn’t automatically object to going home with him. “Okay, babe. That’s fine.” That was mostly a lie. He really wanted to have sex with her, see if that was as good as he remembered. But he wouldn’t
