She glanced playfully over her shoulder. “Do not say the back of your truck. I’m a classy New Yorker now. I only go down on guys in alleys and in the bathrooms of nightclubs.”
She was kidding, of course, but he answered after a slight pause. “Oh, is that what’s going to happen?”
When they’d gotten far enough away from the party, all the cars black and silent, the voices turned to a distant, dull hum, she finally stopped. Whirled around. He was grinning like a madman, but also a very turned-on madman. He reached for her, getting that openmouthed I’m going to kiss the hell out of you look.
She slammed a hand into his chest, stopping him. Because she knew if he did that, if he got her going in the way only his mouth could, they’d be out here all night. She’d be draped across the hood of that yellow hatchback over there, and she’d never go back to the party where she should be right now.
“Yeah,” she said, her voice gone all throaty. “That’s what’s going to happen. And I’m adding parking lots to my repertoire.”
She pushed him into the side of a conversion van, the closest vehicle that could take his height and build. A metallic boom rang down the line of cars, but no one was around to hear. She dropped to her knees, the asphalt and gravel biting. She’d worry about what her jeans might look like later. Or maybe not.
“Jesus, Jen. Is this you and your control issues?”
Leith’s hand threaded through her hair and she flipped her eyes up to see that his grin had vanished, replaced by such a fierce expression of lust that it made her stop and stare, reveling in it. But only for a second.
“No.” Okay, maybe it was, but she wasn’t going to admit that. Not now. “This is me wanting you. Just like this.”
One side of his mouth tilted up. “Another first for us.”
Wow, she guessed it was.
Just as she shoved up his kilt, yanked down his underwear, and sucked him into her mouth, Chris’s fiddle struck its first long notes on stage. The drums came in, nice and steady, followed by the pipes and guitar. Music filled the valley as she worked her way down Leith, tasting and licking him, dragging her tongue and the inside of her cheeks all over him. He was hers right then, and the whole valley belonged to them.
Leith’s head fell back with a crack against the van, and it might have been one of the best sounds she’d ever heard.
Chapter
20
In no way did Leith want to know where, when, or on whom Jen had learned to give head like this. He literally had to bite his tongue to not shout out. The sensations were plenty amazing—the hard suck and the stroke of her gentle hands drawing every drop of blood to where he needed it most—but it was the sight of her that shoved him hard against the wall of insanity.
He hadn’t meant to look down. Hadn’t meant to slit open his eyes to see her mouth surrounding him, her eyelids closed tightly over the green emeralds he adored. Hadn’t meant to see how her thighs were spread, and how her hips undulated with every pull of her mouth on his dick.
The need for her would never go away. It would always be there, a constant thing, ready and waiting. She held his desire in her fists, and to release it all she had to do was open her fingers. It was that simple. It was that potent.
He forgot where he was—in what town, in which state, on what planet. His eyes rolled back in his head. She was picking up the pace, taking some sort of coaching advice he must have been wordlessly feeding her, because she was doing it absolutely perfectly. Hand still wrapped in the smooth silk of her hair, his thighs started to shake.
All the emotion he’d ever owned fled from every corner of his body, rushing, rushing toward his groin and pushing into his cock. The power of the pleasure stole his brain and sent him flying into the heavens. He came in her mouth, unable to hold back his sounds anymore. He couldn’t hear himself, didn’t know what sort of gibberish she’d reduced him to.
Then she pulled off him and sat back on her heels, and . . . smiled. Leith wasn’t really capable of reaction just then. Even the feel of his kilt drifting down and touching him was too much, and he winced. But she somehow got him dressed again, T-shirt tucked back in and everything, and he could stand without having to lean against the stranger’s van.
He touched her face. “Seems a bit uneven, wouldn’t you say?”
Her smile was brilliant and confident, and he loved the knot he’d made in her hair by her ear.
“You’ll get me later,” she said.
He kissed her and said against her lips, “Yes. I will.”
“But now I have to get back. Thanks for the cigarette break.”
He barked out a laugh. “You’re thanking me? I’m the one who needs the cigarette.”
“Taste of whiskey instead? I need to check in on Shea.”
This time it was he who reached for her hand and pulled her gently through the maze of cars. The band’s music got louder and louder as they made their way back to the grounds. Chris sounded excellent on his fiddle, as usual. The kid really needed to play more solo, maybe even ditch the other guys. Scott, the drummer, didn’t look so good, like maybe he’d fallen off the wagon, which might explain why Chris had been on edge the past couple of days. Jeremy, the piper, was giving the rest of his bandmates hard looks. There were people dancing though, and the beer and whiskey tents had turned raucous, so maybe no one else noticed.
Just hold it together for this weekend, guys, Leith thought. No bullshit tonight or tomorrow. For Jen. For Gleann.
As he and Jen ducked into the whiskey tent, Shea jumped up onto the bar to a chorus of whistles and cheers, which faded when she gave the offending whistlers a withering glare.
“Supposedly it’s my duty,” she called out over the heads, “to hand over this case of whiskey, handpicked by yours truly, to the winning tug-of-war team: Manhattan Rugby.”
A great hoot went up from a mess of about ten guys wearing red and black striped T-shirts. One of them, a big guy with a haircut that had Manhattan written all over it, his body half-covered with mud, and already a little red-faced from drinking, came forward to accept the case. He took an awful long time sliding it from Shea’s hands, staring at her with a look Leith knew all too well. The rugby player tried to chat her up, but she just gave him a polite nod and went back behind the bar.
“Dougall! Holy fuck, I thought that was you!”
Leith turned to find three of his old throwing buddies weaving around the crowded tables toward him. Damn but it was good to see them, a blast of the not-too-distant past that somehow felt forever ago.
“You just dropped off the face of the earth,” Ward said with a sauced grin. “Not even on the online forums or anything anymore. What the hell have you been doing?”
“Throwing for a PR tomorrow?” Leith said, changing the subject with a laugh, and clapping Ward hard on the back. “Because there’s no fucking way you’re winning if Duncan’s throwing. He’s pretty sick right now.”
Ward guffawed. “No shit. He twisted my arm into coming. Haven’t been back here since I took second to your scrawny ass.”
“Thanks for coming and competing on such short notice,” Jen piped in, stepping to Leith’s side. “It’ll be a great day tomorrow. I promise.”
Leith looked down at her with pride, loving how new people and situations didn’t scare her at all. He introduced Jen to the athletes and they all shot the shit for a while, the old camaraderie coming back to him. Once Duncan found them, he did a couple of quick shots and the volume of the party jumped up several notches. Leith fell into the easy rhythm of competition talk, and found himself eager to know how all the other guys had been doing on the circuit.