Page 56 of Detour

Coty hesitates, giving me the option to stop. Not even close to done though, I reach my hand around the back of his head and press my lips to his. Starting out sweet, almost exploratory, it quickly turns heated, passionate. It’s rough and desperate and long fucking overdue.

Coty groans and the husky sound shoots straight to my core, making me grip his hair. My other hand rests on his neck nearly covered by his leather jacket. He pulls back abruptly, unzipping his coat entirely, only to dive back in again. It’s the only skin I can reach and I take full advantage. With a tilt of my head, I deepen the kiss I’ve been craving since he showed up at my front door offering me his modified hoodie. A hand to my ass, Coty yanks me up and over the bike, setting me on the gas tank, facing him.

I break away on a gasp. “Coty, we’re on a bike. What if we fall?”

He nips at my lips, calmly. “I won’t let you fall.” And the way he says it, I want to believe him.

Then, like the last thirty seconds never happened, Coty’s mouth is back on mine, chasing away any remaining apprehension. Our mouths continue to make love as his hands grip my hips, bringing me forward until his impressive erection rubs my center in a frustratingly erotic motion. Coty’s lips wreak havoc on my mouth while his body creates utter mayhem for mine. I never stood a chance. His skills outrank mine greatly and I’m happy to let him take the lead. For now, anyway.

The ride here was the foreplay leading up to this moment. It’s been building for weeks, if I’m being honest, since the moment our eyes connected really. The attraction being too great, too strong, it’s damn near consumed me.

Both of us teeming with sexual tension, neither comes up for air as we pour our desire into the other. My lips match his. His tongue chases mine. When his teeth join the competition, I almost surrender on the spot. As Coty slides his hands further into my hair, his grip tightens, pulling slightly. My head bends backward trying to overcompensate but Coty’s mouth latches onto my bottom lip, ensuring I can’t go far. Teeth bared, he draws out my lip before closing his mouth and soothing the sting away completely. Being pulled in opposite directions makes for a luscious game of tug-of-war that’ll eventually end in victory. For me.

A whimper escapes my tender lips as I bring my hand from his neck to his chin. Gripping it with my thumb and forefinger, I pull, forcing Coty to meet my mouth again.

Naturally, our bodies recline together but before I hit the windshield, Coty’s hand shoots out to grip the glass acting as a cushion for my back. He leaves his other hand in my hair, helping to hold my head to his. As if there’s anywhere else I’d rather be. I wrap my arms around his neck, arching my back. On a growl, Coty breaks free of my mouth and tilting my head for better access, starts sucking hungry kisses down my neck. The motion of him rocking into me causes the bike to shift beneath us. With each thrust, the wheels roll forward. Only once he lets up, does the bike roll my pussy directly back to where she belongs—pressed against him. The repetitive friction is borderline torture—slow and sensual and just shy of giving me what I need. What we both want.

I’m panting and groaning and losing my mind one touch at a time. When I’m fed up from being left on the side lines, I fist his hair, returning his face to mine. Ready to be back in the game, I lick his lips methodically, ratcheting up the heat factor a few more degrees.

“Damn, babe. I’ve been dying to kiss you again.”

A breathy laugh escapes me followed by the only response I can offer—my lips tell Coty what my head can’t, my tongue shows him what my heart never will, and my hands say what he’s dying to hear. Not a single word is spoken, yet he gets the message all the same. I’m here. I’m yours.

For now.

Still clutching his hair, I make my way down his jaw, nibbling as I go. Coty’s hand squeezes my hip roughly as he sucks in a breath. I drop one hand to explore his chest. I’ve seen him shirtless countless times but haven’t had the pleasure of experiencing it firsthand. Until now. My fingers venture over the grooves of his strained muscles. And they. Are. Everywhere. A hand under his shirt, I trail my nails up his firm abs while keeping up my feast on his neck.

“Fuck. Angela, you’re killing me.”

His rough voice, the only noise besides the tires crunching the loose gravel, reminds me of our surroundings.

Close to his ear, I whisper, “Is this where you take all your dates?” The thought ran through my mind when we arrived and now I’m dying to know.

Coty pushes to standing, leaving me to lie almost flat on my back. Using his free hand, he grasps my collarbone gently before grinding his cock into me not so gently. Our groans mix into one agonized sound of desire. My thin leggings, now drenched, are as good as gone. They tried their best, really, but Coty’s seduction proved too powerful for the stretchy cotton.

He throws my previous question back in my face, asking, “Jealous?”

Easy. “Yes.”

He drops down and devours my mouth with his once more. My hands meet air as he pulls back sharply. “Good. I want you to feel what I feel.” He nips at my lips playfully. “I want you so jealous you can’t even see straight.” My bottom lip gets sucked between his. “I want you thinking about me when you’re in your bed, thinking about how much you want to sneak across the hall and into mine.” Voice too hoarse to continue, he seals his lips against mine, then pulls back again, causing me to whimper. He’s playing with his food while I’m eagerly waiting to be served. “Are you there yet, babe?”

Lips against mine, his eyes implore me to answer. Unable to, I pause. I’m not sure if I can admit what he’s asking. Yes, the thought of Coty bringing another girl here makes my stomach cramp, bad, but do I have a right to covet something that’s not mine? Someone that’s not mine. Having to go without most times, I learned to deny that useless cloak of envy each time it was presented. Greed, resentment, jealousy, they never got me anywhere. Nowhere I wanted to be anyway. Avoidance became my greatest ally, my closest friend. A downright necessity at times. Of course I noticed what others had: happy families, loving parents, birthday cakes—the usual—but dwelling on the things I didn’t have was a waste of time.

As for his other question though, while it’s true I have fantasized about having Coty in my bed, I think I’ll leave him wondering a little longer.

Eyes still searching mine, Coty straightens.

“Wait, wait, wait. Come back.” I pull at his shirt and he obliges, lowering. “What was the question again?”

Mouth flattened, he stands out of reach a second time.

“You fight dirty,” I accuse, placing my hands on his chest, still trying to cop a feel of his hardened muscles.

The cold air has slipped between us, clearing my head of the hormone fog it’s been enveloped in since we left Creekwood.

Coty’s near black eyes keep mine entranced as he drops down closer. When his lips are hovering just above mine, he whispers, “That’s ‘cause you’ve had me against the ropes since we met.”

I sink my teeth into his bottom lip and, without breaking eye contact, rise with him. I watch with satisfaction as his eyes flare with renewed desire. Just before he can resume his own sweet torment, I release him and use his arms to dismount.