Driving Her Crazy Page 14

  “Well, we’ll just have to agree to disagree on that point.”

  Oz smiled. She could throw all the attitude she wanted at him. She was squirming in her seat just thinking about it, her face flushing several shades of red.

  “There’s nothing to disagree with, Cher. You loved every second of it.”

  Her stubborn little chin jutted out. “Maybe I was just faking it.”

  “If you did, you deserve an Oscar for that performance. Well, for all those performances. How many were there?”

  “Just drop it, Nathaniel.”

  “Hmm, you called me Oz last night. In fact, you were screaming Oh God, Oz! with your legs wrapped around my waist while I pounded into you.”

  “Nathaniel!” she gasped, either in shock or outrage. He wasn’t sure which.

  “What? I’m just trying to get my facts straight. According to you, nothing happened last night that we need to discuss. But see, I’m not in the habit of spending a mind-blowing night with an amazing woman just to have her pretend it never happened the next day. Maybe I was dreaming. For instance, did you or did you not climb on top of me and rub your hot, wet—”

  “Nathaniel!” Her voice had an edge of desperation to it now.

  He grinned. Sparking the memories was definitely doing the trick. She licked her lips and Oz shifted in his seat, his hands gripping wheel. Slight side effect he hadn’t anticipated. His little game was backfiring on him. Because he was getting every bit as worked up as she was. No way in hell was he going to stop, though. They would talk about it or he’d go through the whole damn night in such detail she’d be soaking through those little satin panties of hers in no time.

  “Just making sure I’m not the one with memory problems. I mean, did I imagine it, or was it you on your knees in front of me, sucking my dick so hard I almost came in that hot little mouth of yours.”

  “I hate you, you know that?”

  He smiled grew wider. “No, you don’t, baby. You might hate the fact that you lowered your precious standards so far as to actually spend the night with me, but you sure as hell don’t hate what we did. Or we wouldn’t have done it four times. Or was it five? Did the shower count?”

  She crossed her arms, her hands gripping her elbows so tightly they were almost white. “Stop it, Nathaniel, I mean it. I have nothing more to say to you on this matter.”

  Oh, he had no intention of stopping. She was reacting exactly how he wanted her to. “Well, it’s hard to know what to count. Should we go by orgasm or just actual penetration? I’m pretty sure there were two orgasms—at least—in the shower. I’ve still got your nail marks in my scalp from when I made you come using nothing but my tongue swirling around your tight little clit.”

  “I’m warning you…”

  By this point, he wasn’t sure if she was warning him to stop or not stop. Her voice was breathy, her fists were clenched in her lap, her legs pressed tightly together. Maybe she was trying to keep her orgasm from escaping. He was having the same problem. If he kept it up too much longer, pun totally intended, he’d need a new pair of jeans.

  “I think my favorite was the last one, when you were curled up on your side and I took you from behind…”

  “Shut up, Nathaniel!”

  “I think you came so hard that time the people in the next room pounded on the wall.”

  She finally turned to him, her hands clenched into fists on her thighs. “You are such an ass! Bite me!”

  “Yep, I distinctly remember you saying that last night, only you wanted me to bite you here.” He reached over and flicked a finger against a nipple that was straining against the fabric of her dress.

  Cher gasped, her hand flying to her breast. Only instead of blocking him, she moaned, her eyes closing as she massaged herself, her fingers kneading at the soft flesh, her fingers squeezing her nipple.

  Holy shit. Oz’s mouth went dry and the constriction of his jeans went from uncomfortable to cutting off circulation. Enough of this.

  He jerked the car onto the exit they’d near passed and Cher shrieked, grabbing the oh shit bar and holding on for dear life.

  “Nathaniel, what the hell are you doing?”

  “Teaching you not to play with fire.”

  She glared at him. “Don’t get mad at me if you can’t take what you dish out.”

  “Oh please. Don’t even pretend you aren’t as turned on as I am.”

  “Dream on,” she said, nearly panting.

  “I don’t need to. I know exactly what you look like when you are dying to come, Cher. And you are dying right now, baby. Aren’t you?”

  He slid his hand up her thigh. She didn’t stop him. Far from it. Her breath hissed through her teeth, and she opened her legs wider for him. Her panties were soaking wet. He moved them aside so he could slip a finger inside her and she moaned and grabbed his hand, pushing him farther in.

  He’d been teasing her but he hadn’t realized just how well his little game had worked. She was already throbbing for him. The feel of her hot and wet, her muscles quivering around his fingers, had him desperate to pull over so he could plunge balls deep into her.

  “Shit, Cher. Hang on.”

  They reached a picnic area and he turned down a little dirt lane that led further back into the wooded area.

  “So, what?” she gasped, rocking against his hand as best as she could. “You’re just going to park the car so we can go at it right here in the woods like a couple of horny teenagers? Real classy.”

  Her indignation would have sounded more convincing if she hadn’t been riding his hand for all she was worth, nearly sobbing at the need to have him inside her.

  “I never said I was classy, baby.” His thumb found her clit and he rubbed it in little circles.

  Her legs clamped around his hand and she threw her head back.

  “Ah! Oz!”

  He slipped another finger inside and rubbed harder. They hit a pothole and she came, screaming his name. He could feel her muscles gripping him, clenching around his fingers and he groaned, needing to be inside her.

  “What’s the matter?” she asked when she caught her breath. “Is driving getting a little hard?”

  She leaned over and unzipped his pants, slipping her hand inside so she could palm him, rubbing her hand the full length of him and back again.

  He pulled the car off into a small shaded thicket where it should be relatively safe from sight in case there were any early picnickers out there.

  He slammed the car into park and ripped his seat belt off.

  “Get over here.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Cherice didn’t wait for him to ask her twice. Damn it, she knew she shouldn’t be doing what she was about to do, but for the life of her she didn’t care. In about two hours she would be walking into her parents’ home, back into the place where everyone seemed to want to make her feel as crappy about herself as possible. She wanted one more moment before that happened. One more moment with the man who had made her feel good for the first time in a very long time. Not just good. Happy. Safe. Sexy. Powerful. She wanted more of it. More of him. And she was damn well going to take it.

  She tore off her seat belt and climbed onto his lap, trying to balance her knees on the slivers of the seat his body wasn’t occupying. He jammed his hands into her hair and dragged her face to his, molding their mouths together. She drank him in like he was the last breath of fresh air she’d ever breathe again.

  His hands dropped to her thighs and pushed her skirt up. Oh, yes, this is what she wanted. What she needed. God, one brush of his hand and she burned for him. She hadn’t made out in a car since high school and she planned on doing a whole lot more than that. His hand gripped her ass and hauled her against him. She could feel the hot length of him burning through the layers of clothes that separated them and she fumbled for the button of his pants.

  He yanked aside her dress and his mouth closed over a nipple. He sucked at it through the lace that covered it and Cherice arched a
gainst him.

  “Oz,” she whimpered.

  “Backseat,” he said, trying to help her off his lap.

  Her butt landed on the steering wheel and she shrieked when the horn blew. Oz laughed and gave her a push toward the back. She fell onto the seat and quickly looked around to make sure no one had heard the horn. She couldn’t see anything but trees. Good. Because she wasn’t sure she could stop even if they had an audience.

  “Condoms?” she asked, as Oz clambered over the parking break into the back.

  “Bag on the floor. Ow!” His head banged against the roof of the car and he looked like he had a knee wedged near the parking brake.

  Apparently his six foot-something-frame wasn’t built to cram itself into the backseat of a car, but he managed somehow. Cher had the condom out and ready to roll. She sat up to help just as he leaned down and their heads cracked together.

  Cher lay back on the seat and giggled. “Oh my God.”

  He laughed and shook his head. Their amusement died away as they stared at each other, chests heaving. She had one leg on the seat, knee bent, and she knew it gave him a clear view. And just to make it a little easier on him…she dragged her hand up her thigh, hiking her dress up as she went. His gaze followed her movements, his breath ragged.

  He shoved his jeans down as far as he could and rolled the condom on. Cher crooked her finger.

  “Come here.”

  He grinned and she reached up to grab a fistful of his shirt, pulling him down to her. Their lips met, their tongues tangling. They fumbled between them, each trying to get her panties off. They finally managed and Oz wasted no time driving himself into her.

  Cher gasped and clutched at him, her nails digging into his back through his shirt. “Oh, God. Oz!”

  He pulled out and thrust in again. And again. She held on to him, trying to find a rhythm with him when she could barely move. He braced a hand on the seat back, his other hand pinning her hip to the seat. He drove into her over and over. Cher nearly sobbed at the sensations he was igniting within her. She wanted to make it last as long as possible. But they needed to hurry. It was broad daylight and they were in the backseat of a car.

  “Oz,” she gasped.

  “Come on, baby. Come for me.”

  He pounded into her again. And again. She arched her hips, drawing him as deep as she could, the orgasm building deep inside her. It rippled out in waves, her muscles clenching and throbbing. Oz moaned and slammed into her.

  “Cher! Ah, baby!”

  One more thrust and he half collapsed on her. She wrapped one leg around his hip, keeping him captive while little ripples of pleasure still ran through her. He looked down at her and she smiled, reaching up to pull him down for a kiss.

  His lips moved over hers, tender but insistent, taking as much as he was giving. Cher poured everything she felt for him into that kiss, everything she couldn’t say. She thought maybe he was doing the same. Her head swam with the emotions rocking her.

  How was she going to let this man go? This aggravating, arrogant, pain in the ass, wonderful man. How was she going to just walk away from him?

  Cher’s kiss turned desperate. Oz pulled away and smoothed her hair away from her face.

  “Hey. You okay?”

  She smiled at him. “Yes. More okay than I’ve been in a long time.”

  “Good.” He grimaced a little and shifted off her. “I’d really love to lie here all day with you but my leg is cramping up.”

  Cher smiled, refusing to think of anything else but that moment. The rest of the world could come crashing in later. Oz used the last baby wipe to dispose of the used condom and then settled back against the seat, pulling her into his lap. He kissed her, his lips gently caressing her forehead, her cheeks, her jaw, her neck. He nuzzled against her, breathing her in. Her heart skipped at the painfully sweet tenderness of his actions.

  She didn’t say a word, just curled into him and he held her. For just a brief moment, she considered the possibility that Oz could be the one for her. That maybe they could make it work. She could go live with him, open her shop near him. Have dinner on the table every night when he got home and send him off to work every morning with a cup of coffee and a kiss. They could have babies and maybe get a cat. Or a dog. Or both. They could have it all. Have their dreams and each other.

  It was a nice thought.

  But that’s all it was.

  Part of her would love nothing more than to walk right up to her parents and announce that instead of reapplying for medical school or marrying whatever suitable man they’d dug up, she was going to open her own extension of DressHer and ride off into the sunset with Oz. The other part of her knew she’d never do it. They’d disown her on the spot. And as much as they drove her nuts and sometimes made her downright miserable, she loved them. They were her parents.

  And the longer she sat there, curled on Oz’s lap like they had some kind of future together, the harder it was going to be to leave him and go back to her real life.

  Time to end the fantasy and get back to reality.

  …

  Oz hugged Cher closer to him, reveling in the fit of her body against his. She let him hold her for a moment, but then stiffened and pushed away. He looked down, eyebrows raised.

  “I, um…just want to get some air. It’s hot in here. And I should probably clean up a little before we get back on the road.”

  Oz smiled. “Yeah, we did generate a bit of heat, didn’t we?”

  She gave him a faint smile, leaned over to grab her bag, and opened the door. The fresh breeze was nice. It was warm of course, but still several degrees cooler than the car, and a morning breeze blew through the trees.

  Cher walked off a short ways to a picnic table surrounded by trees and thick brush. Oz watched her, unable to keep the goofy grin from his face.

  Maybe they weren’t so different after all. Maybe it really could work between them. Especially if he got the desk editor job. It was a major step up. He’d be able to quit all his other jobs, just focus on what he actually wanted to do. Be able to take care of his sister and…anyone else who might come along.

  He wouldn’t be able to provide the kind of life she was used to, of course, but they’d make out pretty well for themselves. And she could go to school and get her master’s in business and do what she’d always wanted. They might actually be able to make a pretty decent life.

  He realized how sappy he was being, daydreaming about white-picket fences and all the fixin’s with some woman he’d just met. But…well if they could overcome all the differences they had and connect the way they just had after only a day, he was sure they’d be able to make a relationship work. If that’s what she wanted. And with the way she’d clung to him it was hard to imagine her being opposed to the idea.

  Cher dug through her bag and pulled out a bottle of water and some other items. Looked like she was going to give herself a little sponge bath. Hmmm, maybe he could help with that.

  He sauntered over, his heart rate kicking up a notch when she propped her leg up on the table bench and her hand dipped under her skirt. He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She stiffened and dropped her leg, moving away from him.

  Um, okay.

  “Just thought I’d come see if you needed any help,” he said, trying for suggestive and flirty.

  Cher wouldn’t meet his eyes. “No. Thank you. I’m fine. Almost finished.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked, reaching out to rub a hand down her arm.

  She flinched away from him. “No. I don’t want help.”

  Oz frowned, her reaction stinging. What the hell? Five minutes ago she’d been curled up in his lap clinging to him like she never wanted to let go. Now he couldn’t even touch her?

  She put a packet of tissues and a bottle of hand sanitizer on the table, scrubbed at herself again, and wadded the used tissues up to throw away.

  His gaze zeroed in on the hand sanitizer and his stomach bottomed out. He swallowe
d past the hurt and anger that were slowly filling him. Really? So, that’s how it was? She wasn’t just cleaning up; she was removing all traces of him from her body.

  With fucking sanitizer.

  What a colossal joke he must be to her. There he was, fantasizing about them being together and all she’d been after was a quick screw with some blue-collar guy she thought she could use and toss away. He should have known better. Hell, he had known better. He’d just been so distracted by her little act that he’d forgotten. He’d be damn sure not to make that mistake again.

  Cher grabbed more tissues but froze when she looked up and saw Oz’s face. Yeah. Game was up. He knew what she was up to now. And if half of what he was feeling was showing on his face, then yeah, she should look concerned. She was lucky he didn’t just drive off and leave her ass there. He wouldn’t. No matter how badly she’d just used him, he’d never do that to her. No matter how tempting it was.

  “Nathaniel?”

  He snorted. “I guess I’m only Oz to you when you want a good fuck.”

  Her mouth dropped open but he continued before she could say anything. He had no desire to hear what she had to say.

  “Hurry up with your decontamination process, will you? I’ve got somewhere to be.”

  “What? What are you talking about?”

  “Drop the game, Cherice. I got the message, okay. You had your fun. Slumming with the guy from the wrong side of the tracks. I’m sure it’ll make a great story at your next family get together.”

  “What? No, that’s not what—” She looked down at the sanitizer in her hand and flushed.

  “Save it. I’m not interested in whatever line of bullshit you feel like trying to feed me. Just hurry it up. I’d like to get out of here.” He jerked his head at her. “Make sure you get all of my filth off your precious little body. It would be a fucking shame if Mommy Dearest found out what you’d been up to because you missed a spot.”

  She gasped and Oz almost—almost—apologized. He was a total bastard. But she deserved it. She’d used him. Made him think she actually felt something for him. Hell, if she’d just wanted to fuck, he’d have been up for it. They could have had a good time without her totally messing with his head.