A Year of You by A. D. Roland Page A

the top of his head but arched her chest into his, against his hand. “Geez, you’re not kneading dough! Gentle!” He rubbed his thumb over herhard nipple.
    “West,” she breathed, arching her crotch against the painfully hard bulge in his jeans.
    “Shut up, Mattie,” he replied, delving into her hot, seeking mouth again. She shocked him into submission for a second by sliding her fingers into the waistband of his jeans and boxers, the tips of her fingers brushing the uber-sensitive tip of his erection. His hips pushed against hers. “What are you doing, Mattie?”
    “Just...stuff. You’re really big, West.”
    “You’re killing the happy with all the gab,” he gasped, settling more firmly into the warm crotch of her legs. He shoved the restricting hem of her skirt higher so he could rest against her more comfortable.
    “Wait, hold on,” Mattie grunted. She wiggled her left leg out from under him and propped it up on the seat back, her lower leg hanging over the back. Her skirt was nearly around her waist, revealing bright pink panties that hung low on her hips. He grinned. He knew if he flipped her over, the panties would hug the curve of her buttocks, showing just enough skin to make him even hotter. “I feel like a teenager again.”
    He goosed her side. “I don’t know what you’re trying here, but hush so we can keep going.”
    Mattie tilted her hips again and writhed against him. She sucked her breath in and sighed heavily when he ground against her. He had to be hurting her. Her undies were thin and flimsy, and the zipper crease of his jeans paired up with his rock-hard erection had to be a killer.
    Maybe not, he guessed, when she dug her fingers into his waist and pulled him harder against her. Relishing her reactions to him, he pinned her hands over her head against the seat.
    After a few moments of harsh, exhilarating dry-humping, he groaned and pushed himself up on his knees. “This hurts. Sit up.” Without waiting for her, he pulled her upright, sat in the seat, and pulled her on to his lap.
    With her skirt still high around her hips, and he felt her hot, damp heat soaking through his jeans. His fingers roved around her ass and he grinned when he felt the way the bottom edge of the panties rode up her ass. He’d love to smack it and watch the pale skin blossom red.
    Mattie shrugged out of her hoodie jacket. The thin spaghetti straps of her top slipped down her shoulders. West grinned wickedly and pushed the left one down her arm. He reached in and bared one breast, loving the weight and softness of it in his hand. He flicked his thumb over the nipple. Guilty thoughts rushed to his head, but he didn’t care. This was about him and Mattie, and how amazing her tits felt in his hands.
    “Should I return the favor?” he whispered.
    “Do it and I’ll twist something of yours that’s a lot more sensitive than your nipple.” She leaned forward and nipped his earlobe. The sensation sent a hard rush of heat through his groin. She kissed his ear, finding ways to make blood surge through his cock that he hadn’t even know where there. Her position put her breasts right in his face, and he loved it.
    The hot, soft center of her shifted on his lap as she leaned forward on her knees, working her hips in a subtle figure-eight.
    With a wicked grin, he pinched her nipple. She gasped and tried to jerk away. “Don’t threaten me again,” he growled, keeping his fingers clamped on the sensitive flesh. She didn’t try to move away again. Instead, she closed her eyes and worked her hips against him.
    “You like this?” he whispered against her lips. What was it that she was doing to him that made him so fire-hot, wind-wild inside?
    “Yes,” she said after a moment, opening her glittering, heavy-lidded eyes. Even in the darkness West made out the flush of her cheeks.
    The windows of the Navigator steamed up, dimming the wan light coming in from the overheads of the garage further. West cupped her