Page 101 of Almost Enough

My fingers pop his belt open with a click. I lean closer. “Two double cheeseburgers…large fry…” I run my palm over him, feeling him respond fast. Rock hard. Holy hell. “And a strawberry milkshake.”

He makes a sound somewhere between a cough and a groan. His eyes widen as I slide my hand inside his jeans.

“Whitley,” he warns, his voice dropping to that delicious rumble.

I glance around. There are four cars ahead of us, and the high sides of his truck provide decent coverage.

“You better stay quiet,” I whisper in his ear. “Unless you want that poor guy to hear just how good I am at this.”

Before he can protest further, I unbuckle my seat belt and free him from the confines of his jeans. He’s thick and hot in my hand.

“Fucking hell,” he hisses through clenched teeth as I lower my head, taking him between my lips. I swirl my tongue along the underside. I want to ruin him.

Taste floods my tongue. Skin, salt, Beau. I hum, greedy and smug.

Beau’s hand flies to the back of my head, not pushing, just holding on like he needs an anchor. I smile around him, hollowing my cheeks as I take him deeper.

“That’ll be fifteen forty-seven at the first window. Please pull forward.”

He does. Slowly. One hand on the wheel, the other tangled in my hair and fighting for composure.

The truck inches forward, and I focus entirely on him. I take him deeper, letting my tongue trace the thick vein on the underside of his length. His grip tightens in my hair.

“Fuck,” he breathes, barely audible.

I pull back just enough to swirl my tongue around the sensitive head, lapping at the bead of pre-cum there before taking him deep again. His thigh tenses beneath my supporting hand.

The truck rolls forward another car length as I hollow my cheeks and suck harder. He’s got three cars left before we risk getting arrested for public indecency.

I take him farther into my mouth, working him with slow pulls, my tongue pressing flat against the underside of him on every stroke. His hand in my hair tightens, fingers curling against my scalp, and I can feel the tension radiating off him in waves. His thighs lock up, his breathing ragged.

Two cars left.

I pick up my pace, letting my free hand grip the base of his cock, twisting slightly on the upstroke. His hips rock forward, telling me he’s right there.

“Jesus Christ. Whit—” The truck lurches forward. One car left.

I hum around him. That does it.

His hips buck upward and he loses it in hot pulses at the back of my throat, his fingers tightening almost painfully in my hair as he empties himself completely.

“Holy shit,” he gasps, chest heaving as I finally release him with one last, teasing lick before I tuck him back into his pants.

I sit up and swallow it all, wiping the corner of my mouth with my thumb, feeling powerful and sated as I take in his wrecked expression. His eyes are wide, cheeks flushed as we roll up to the window.

The kid holds out the payment reader, and I hand Beau my card. I did say I was buying, after all.

“Fifteen forty-seven,” the kid says, glancing between Beau and the reader.

Beau taps the card against it with the movements of a man who’s holding himself together by a single thread while I sit looking perfectly innocent, smoothing my sundress over my thighs. I am a picture of composure. A church mouse. A delight.

The food and milkshake are handed out the window within a few seconds. We’ve barely pulled forward before Beau drops his head back against the headrest and exhales a breath that sounds like it’s been building for about three car lengths.

He hands the bag over. “That was…”

“Delicious,” I finish with a wink, digging around for a burger. “And extremely fun.”

He shakes his head. “You’re going to be the reason I end up in jail for indecent exposure.”