Ten minutes later, we’re parking in a secluded spot at a nearby park to eat our burgers. He hands me mine out of the sack and opens his. He ordered extra pickles, but to my surprise, he pulls them all off and sets them on my wrapper. My insides melt a bit at that kind gesture.
“You don’t like pickles?”
“I do, but you apparently like them more, and I like to see you happy.”
“Aw, that’s surprisingly sweet of you.”
“Don’t tell anybody.”
He leans over, silently asking for another kiss, and I don’t hesitate. It’s just a sweet peck, but the type of sweet potent enough to have me pressing my thighs together. He turns up the music, and we eat in companionable silence. This burger is good, and the seasoned fries dipped in BBQ sauce is the perfect touch.
“It’s nice to see a lady enjoy her food.”
“Mmmm, yes. I’m not huge on rabbit food.”
He laughs at my choice of words.
“Noted. No rabbit food for Ava.”
I take a big bite for emphasis. The cute bastard leans close and wipes ketchup from the corner of my mouth with his thumb, moans, and sucks it off his finger before kissing my cheek. I have suddenly lost all the will to eat this burger. He knows it, too, because he takes my burger and sets both of them on the dash, unbuckles my belt, and pulls me across the console into his lap as if I weigh nothing. The masculine rumble he lets loose from his throat has me feeling ravenous for different reasons.
“Mmmm, that ketchup tastes better off of your lips. I do believe you ordered a burger with a side of kisses.”
A groan leaves my lips as he claims them. His palms curl tight around my hips as he presses our bodies close.
“Fuck, I needed this so bad.”
He needed me? Ava, meet puddle.
The charged air exchanges between our lips as we pant with excitement while my hands travel underneath his shirt to feel all the hard ridges and dips of his muscles. I reach down and unbuckle his pants, and he rips his mouth from mine with a questioning look.
“And I need to feel you in my hands,” I say, watching with desire while he bites his lip as my fingers grasp the hard shaft between us.
“I’m not complaining,” he gasps as I lightly stroke his length while his fingers dance up my inner thigh.
“Yes, please,” I beg against his smiling lips.
“Remind me why we hated on each other so much again?” he asks roughly as his fingers graze over the wet, lacy center of me, fidgeting with the side of the panties and making me squirm.
“Because oh— my…” I gasp then exhale deeply as his finger slides in deep.
“What’s that? I didn’t hear you,” he teases, smiling as I shudder shamelessly against him, nearly forgetting my hand on his cock. “Fuck, I’m dying to see this needy cunt squeezing my,” he slips his finger out and slides two back in, and I groan loud, “fingers…”
He savagely steals my mouth as we work each other, a cramped tangle of limbs fumbling in our confined space. We barely notice through our haze of need. In minutes, he’s asking me to grab the napkins because he’s close and he doesn’t want to get anything on my outfit. I giggle like an inexperienced teenager in the back of a car until he crooks those fingers and has me groaning his name.
Afterward, he tells me how he’ll never eat another burger in his truck again without thinking about finger-fucking me.
Pulling back into my parking lot, Mark assures me that I look all put back together as I smooth out my skirt and check my makeup in the mirror. He brings his question back up from earlier.
“So, you never did answer me about why we hated on each other so much.”
“You were a manwhore that was intent on driving me crazy.”
“Oh, yes…there’s that…” He looks sheepish. He’s cute.
“You spoke a lot without thinking first,” I egg on, fluttering my eyelashes so he knows I’m just giving him crap.
He winces but grabs my hand one more time, kissing my knuckles with unspoken apologies.