Heart Song Anthology Carolyn Faulkner (rooftoppers txt) 📖

crept in, and she was unsure of anything after that point except that he made her unquenchably horny.

Her small hand moved towards the crux of her thighs, but she stopped short of touching herself, her body already arching in anticipation towards her fingers, but she was not quite able to make herself do what she really wanted, for some reason. Instead she huffed and groaned and turned onto her side, dragging the sheet up from the tangle it had made at her feet and clutching it around her neck while she tried to will herself not to think of her moist, throbbing loins.

“You drive a Miata?” he’d asked, his tone a bit strained.

Tess was instantly on alert for some reason, having been lulled into a sense of security by his relative affability while they were driving to the small Mexican place he’d recommended after picking her up from the shop. They’d been talking about cars when she’d begun telling him about her aging Miata, and how she’d probably have to take it to him for a check sooner than later.

“A green Miata with the rear fender hanging by a thread and one taillight out?” he prompted when she didn’t answer him immediately, sounding angry, somehow, for no discernible reason she could fathom.

“Yes, that’s it.” How was it that he knew her car to a T when she knew he’d never seen it? “Why?”

“And you live out on Steven’s Road?”

She nodded. They had found out earlier that they didn’t live very far from each other, although she knew her place was much smaller than his.

He leaned forward, deliberately occupying four-fifths of the small café table and placing himself so close in front of her that she could smell the coffee on his breath. “Because I drive a big truck. A big blue truck, and you pass me at hell bent for leather nearly every morning, whether there’s a double yellow line or not, that’s why,” he ground out.

Tess’s hand went to her mouth, and she found she was having a hard time not laughing, which she suspected might not be the best response. “Oh dear. You’re the jerk in the truck that I curse out,” the damning words were already out of her mouth, so she finished the thought, “every morning for going so bloody slow.”

“That is going to stop, now. Immediately.” There was a muscle ticking in his jaw, and even though she’d only known him for a very short time, she knew he meant business. “You had better not let me catch you passing anyone where there’s a double yellow line ever again. Understand?”

Quite sure she didn’t want to hear the implied “or else,” or anything about his intentions if he saw her do what he’d just expressly forbidden, Tess grabbed a hold of her sense of humor and nodded enthusiastically.

“Good.” Sean cleared his throat and leaned back a bit, knowing he’d just brought the intensity of the date, which he had intended to be much lighter, up at least a dozen notches.

Tess was relieved that he had apparently forgotten entirely that she’d also flipped him off every morning, and she was in no hurry to remind him. He was already getting a little too close to her fantasies. She had never really considered the idea that she might stumble upon someone in real life who had the same unique interests. She wasn’t really sure what to make of him, although the very idea that he might actually spank her caused her to shift awkwardly in her seat, as if he’d already warmed her bottom before they came to the restaurant.

He was a perfect gentleman the rest of the evening, to the point that she was almost disappointed when he walked her to her door. He had been so reserved all evening that she was on the verge of offering him her hand, and it looked as if he was just going to give her a platonic goodnight kiss. He stood with her on the stoop, both of them bathed in the glow of the porch light she’d left on for herself.

Sean didn’t intend to settle for that. He’d spent the entire evening doing his best to suppress the impulse to reach over and lift her out of her seat to plop her down on his lap in front of God and everyone in the small restaurant. On it, because they were in a public situation. Over it would come later, he’d already promised himself.

They had thoroughly enjoyed talking about how much they both enjoyed the ocean and swimming and traveling and a good steak, as well as Quentin Tarantino movies, especially Inglorious Basterds. Their tastes in television coincided nicely too; Shameless and Walking Dead were high on each of their lists, although Tess had argued that this season wasn’t anywhere near as good – or as plausible, if that was really a consideration in that type of program – as last year’s.

Sean admitted that he hadn’t much considered her point. He’d confessed that he liked both of the strong male leads, and the fact that they got to kill the undead bad guys – a lot. He also allowed as how he had gotten really hooked on Boardwalk Empire, too, and enjoyed watching it along with the Ken Burns series on Prohibition, but Tess had never really been able to get into the storyline. She was willing to attempt it again, though, and he liked that she was open to trying things she wasn’t certain about.

But now she was standing in front of him, in that cute, slightly hesitant way she had, looking up at him as if she was half worried he was going to kiss her, and half worried he wasn’t.

He dispelled all doubt almost immediately by using his crooked index finger to tip her face up just a bit, then settled his mouth onto hers – gently, very gently at first, giving her time to become a bit accustomed to him – then