Eternal Heat (Firework Girls #3) by J. L. White Page A

ass.
    It’s tempting, I have to admit. But I settle for giving him an enthusiastic kiss. We hold each other tightly. I think he’s as excited about this new development as I am.
    New York. Come fall Erik and I could really be together in New York, studying at one of the best music conservatories in the country.
    “Ready for the fair?” he asks, when we finally come up for air.
    I smile. I’m ready for anything with him.
     

     
    We should’ve just gone back to his place to get things out of our system, but we’d probably still be groping each other on the Ferris wheel and ducking into nooks to steal a kiss. We can’t ever seem to get enough of each other. No matter what else we’re doing—playing, talking, watching movies, or spinning around on wild rides at the fair—it never seems to be too long before we’re going at it to one degree or another.
    After hitting our favorite rides (we went on the drop tower five times), we climb into his car and head home.
    Well, kind of home. The roundabout way to home. The way that includes a stop at a secluded park we discovered a couple months ago. It’s since become “our spot” during those times when the privacy of his home is unavailable. All it takes is for us to pull into the darkened parking lot and I start to get wet. Expecting this was probably where we’d end up tonight, I even wore a denim skirt for the occasion.
    Erik loves it when I wear skirts.
    He kills the engine and looks over at me with a delicious grin. “Hello future Juilliard student,” he says in a sultry voice.
    “Don’t curse it,” I say, grinning.
    He leans over and puts his hand on my bare knee, gently cupping the inside of my leg. I lean in too, his hand sliding up my inner thigh as we come together for a sensual kiss. God, can he kiss. His lips lure me in and raise my body temperature as much as anything he does with his hands.
    Not that I overlook what he does with his hands. His fingers trail softly up the gap in my thighs. I spread my legs slightly, anticipating his touch.
    I glance around the park to make sure we’re still alone, even though we always are. Still, we tend to move quick here, just in case. Not that my body needs it. It seems I’m always ready for him, whether he spends the time on foreplay or not.
    As he works his way up my inner thighs, I reach for him too. Two can play this game. When I find him, I squeeze his hard shaft under the thick fabric of his jeans and make him groan.
    His fingertips reach the top of my thigh, making the tender skin there tremble. He expertly tucks his fingers underneath the fabric of my panties and dips into me to get my moisture. I exhale shakily and his mouth starts moving down my neck, suckling on my skin along the way. His wet fingertips slide over my clit and I moan.
    Rubbing his slick fingers over me, he leaves my neck and bends down toward my pussy. Taking one last glance around, I lean back the seat and rearrange to give him better access. Head between my legs, he pulls back the crotch of my panties and starts to lick me. No longer able to reach his cock, I settle for grabbing his hair and rocking my hips.
    His hands firmly rub up my inner thighs, spreading me further and gently pressing my knees open. My clit swells against his tongue as he laps against me. I’m panting and trying not to make any noise. Even though I find the risk of the park exciting, I’m not going to tempt fate by being loud. But the way he’s licking my pussy is sending me into that place that isn’t as cautious as it should be.
    “Erik,” I whisper, pushing his head harder into me and arching my hips up more. “God, yes.”
    He slides one hand under my shirt and pulls my bra aside so he can fondle my bare nipple.
    I spread myself as much as I can. The restrictive space in the car only seems to heighten my pleasure as I long to open wider but am hemmed in. I’m so wet I can feel the juices coming out of me. He dips his tongue down to lap it up and I