“You want to get some?” Josie asked. My immediate response was a wide grin to which she gave a sigh. “Practice. You want to get some practice.”
“And this practice entails . . .?” I didn’t really give a damn as long as she stayed right where she was and kept running her fingers through my hair.
“Touching. Kissing.” She lifted her eyebrows. “Fully clothed.”
I exaggerated a grumble, but I was anything but disappointed. I’d wanted to touch and kiss Josie Gibson for so long, I didn’t care if she told me I had to do it wearing Saran Wrap. The one time I had touched her intimately, I hadn’t fully enjoyed it. She might have been drunk, but I wasn’t. I knew what I was doing, and I knew the girl I was touching wasn’t mine. The girl I wanted to love loved someone else. My best friend.
“I would love to kiss”—I dropped my mouth to her neck and skimmed my lips down it until her skin erupted in goose bumps—“and I would love to touch”—my hand combed into her hair, my fingers trailing through it and giving it a light tug that made her gasp—“you as long and as much as you’ll let me.” Moving my face over hers, I felt the skin between my brows crease. “But you’re right. I don’t have a lot of experience knowing when to quit. Or how to quit. These past couple of weeks, I’ve taken things slow because I kept my hands and mouth to myself, but now . . . Now that I’m touching and kissing you, it won’t be as easy to take things slow. I’ll need you to tell me when to stop. And you have my permission to knee me in the balls if I don’t. I want to make this work, but I need your help.” Saying all that when my breathing was already erratic should have earned me some sort of award.
“You’ve got my help,” she said. “Now would you stop worrying so much and kiss me already? I’ve been waiting weeks for you to finally cross that line, and now that you have, I’d like to get back to it please.”
Letting one hand slip under my bulky jacket, I formed it around her waist. “You know I can’t resist you when you say please.”
She winked. “I know.” Tossing the covers over our heads, Josie’s mouth reconnected with mine at the same time her hand returned to my stomach. Her fingers traced patterns into my skin as her mouth played with mine, sucking and nipping and smoothing and all of the things I didn’t know could make a person’s toes curl. Before, a kiss had been nothing more than a prelude, a stepping stone, a necessary evil. A means to an end. I’d never paid attention to a kiss because it had never been anything more than a segue to sex.
But that kiss, with that girl . . . that was something else entirely. If a person could only choose one memory to take with them into their next life, that would be the one I’d take. That would be the one I’d carry through all of my lifetimes. I didn’t need to have lived them all to realize that memory I was making with Josie was the thing men sold eternities for. It was the thing I’d sell mine for.
I managed to keep my hands on her waist and in the bend of her neck, and as each second passed, it became easier and easier to keep them from straying into newfound “danger” zones. A few weeks ago, those areas had been my primary targets. Now they were danger zones. Irony was really making me its bitch.
When Josie’s fingers trailed along my belt line, skimming just below the surface, I let out something between a sigh and a groan before returning the favor. She might have been in a dress, but fingers skimming the area just south of the navel packs a powerful punch even through clothing. When she moaned around the kiss we were tangled up in, I came close to hiking up her dress, lowering my fly, and making her moan again and louder. Then, like she knew the internal war I was fighting, Josie’s mouth slowed and her hand moved away from the sensitive skin. She knew what she was doing. She knew how to “make out” and when and how to tap the brakes. That was a relief since everything inside of me was dying to punch the gas. A minute ago, I’d been in control. Thirty seconds and one moan from Josie later, I was utterly out of control. Right then, I was back to having a grip. I was returning her slow, soft kiss when something thumped the outside of my truck, jolting us.
“Hey, Black, why’d you pay to come to a drive-in if all you were going to do was fuck your date?”
Josie froze as my eyes narrowed. “Watch your mouth, Mason,” I ordered, peeking my head out from beneath the blankets just enough so he could see my murderous expression without catching a glimpse of Josie. I didn’t mind Colt finding out about Josie and me, but I wasn’t sure if she was ready yet. Even if she was, that probably wasn’t the best time.
“What? It’s not like fuck isn’t your second language and we all know that whoever that girl is beneath you is a far cry from a lady, so don’t tell me to watch my mouth again, asshole.”
I was ready to jump out of the back of my truck to see if Mason had such a loud mouth when I stood toe-to-toe with him, but Josie grabbed my belt buckle and tugged me back down.
“Hey, sweetheart, you do realize you’re with Garth Black, right? The guy who wouldn’t know commitment if it crawled up his ass and took residence.”
Josie gave my belt buckle another tug, and I could almost hear her thoughts—they were that strong. Why would you want to go out there with him when you can be in here with me? Exactly. No reason I’d rather go flick Colt’s hat off his head when Josie’s body was beneath mine and keeping it warm. “At least that’s not what’s shoved up my ass most nights of the week.”
Colt raised his middle finger at me as he tapped my truck again. “Way to go all out and get your truck washed for your date tonight. This thing used to be black, right?”
If Colt thought he could teach me a thing or two about trucks, he must have forgotten which state was listed on his birth certificate. “I’ll get around to washing my truck, Mason. When it rains.” Josie was still covered and quiet, but when Colt took a few steps closer, I shifted. In addition to the blankets, I was blocking her from his view. “It’s a truck, god dammit. You don’t have to wash it and wax it and tweak its headlights to get it to perform.”
“Whatever you say, Black. Whatever you say.” Colt shook his head and walked toward the concessions. “Enjoy your night.”
I watched him until he was out of sight before twisting around and sliding the blankets back. “I really hate that guy.”
Josie wore an amused expression. “You don’t say.”
“Why in the hell did he have to be here tonight? My night was about perfect until he showed up with that overly white smile and tanned face.”
“I didn’t know he was coming, but he said a couple of his brothers would be in town for the weekend. Given the limited choices for entertainment, I suppose it’s not a huge surprise we’d all end up in the same place.” Josie hadn’t let go of my belt buckle, but instead of tugging on it forcefully, she was tugging on it playfully. “Do you want to talk about Colt the rest of the night or would you like to get back to what we were doing?”
Damn, there was a special place in heaven for a girl who could tell you what she wanted without a hint of shame. “Colt who?” My hands found places on her as I shifted back on top.
Then she shoved my chest away and pivoted on top of me. Josie’s eyes gleamed before she lowered her mouth to mine. “My turn.”
IF A MAN could die from making-out exhaustion, I figured I was close. I didn’t know some of the things Josie had taught me could be done with a mouth. I also didn’t realize that having a woman basically hold me captive and have her way with me could be so freeing. With the addition of a bit of boob fondling and a whole bit more of Josie rocking her hips into mine, we’d had a successful, insanely-sexy-without-actual-sex make-out session. Josie was showing me all sorts of things I could do that I never would have thought possible.