Page 23 of Razor’s Redemption

"Fuck," I mutter against her lips. "Daisy—"

"Don't stop."

"We're in a parking lot."

"I don't care."

But I do. Because she deserves better than being pressed against a wall in public where anyone could see. Deserves privacy, a bed and time for me to do this right.

"Come on," I say, pulling back. She whimpers at the loss, and it nearly destroys my resolve. "The car."

I take her hand and lead her across the parking lot to the sedan. Unlock it, open the back door, and she understands immediately. Climbs in without hesitation, and I follow.

The backseat is cramped, awkward and absolutely perfect. I pull her onto my lap so she's straddling me, and she gasps as she settles against me, right against my hard cock through our jeans. Her eyes go wide.

"Oh," she breathes.

"Yeah."

"You're—"

"Very aware."

She rocks her hips, and I groan, head falling back against the seat. "Fuck, Daisy!"

"Is that okay?"

"Is it… Christ, yes, it's okay. More than okay."

She does it again, grinding down against me, and I can feel her heat even through both our jeans. My hands grip her hips, guiding her, helping her find a rhythm. She's panting, hair falling in her face, and she looks so fucking beautiful I can barely stand it.

I kiss her again, harder this time, swallowing the small sounds she's making. Slide my hands under her sweater to feel warm skin, and she arches into the touch. Her bra is red, nothing fancy, but I don't give a fuck. I palm her breast through it, and she gasps.

"Razor…"

"Tell me to stop and I will."

"Don't stop. Please don't stop."

I thumb her nipple through the bra, and she grinds down harder, chasing friction. I can feel how wet she is through the denim, and it's taking every ounce of control I have not to strip her bare and fuck her right here in the backseat.

Chapter 6 - Daisy

What the hell am I doing?

The thought flashes through my mind as I grind down against him, feeling the thick, hard length of his cock pressing against me through our jeans. This is absolutely insane. Completely out of character. I just met this man yesterday. He saved me from getting mugged and that's it. That's the entire foundation of whatever this is.

Am I really this desperate? So starved for touch, for sex, for a man to smile at me and tell me I'm beautiful that I'm willing to climb into the backseat of a car with someone I barely know?

Maybe.

Probably.

Six years is a long fucking time to go without being touched like this. Without being wanted. Without feeling like anything other than Luna's mom, the tired waitress or the invisible cleaning lady.

But this, God, this feels so good. His hands on my hips, guiding me. His mouth on mine, swallowing every sound I make. The way he looks at me like I'm the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, even though I know I'm not.

I don't want to stop.