“Angel, you wanna quit yammerin’, turn around and buckle up so I can feed these kids?” Mike asked and I rolled my eyes at Clarisse then turned around.

“Sure,” I agreed readily.

I buckled in. Mike started her up.

And away we went so Mike could feed a car full of teenage kids and me.

* * *

Mike tore his mouth from mine.

Using his hand curved around the back of my head, he shoved my face in his neck and in my ear, growled, “Shit, fuck, honey.”

I knew what he was saying.

He’d dropped off his kids at his house with Finley graciously offering to walk out Mike’s back gate, through the frozen field in the February night cold to get home. He’d done this under Mike’s suspicious gaze but Clarisse’s excited one. Mike, surprisingly, agreed. Then, following my directions, he drove us to what Dad and Granddad called “The Back Forty”. It was more like “The Back Two Hundred”, a lane that cut through our land that was far from a hop, skip and a jump from our house. At the end of the lane was a stand of trees that surrounded a creek fed mini-pond that was really the bend of the creek where it widened and deepened significantly. It was an old-fashioned watering hole that even had a tire hanging from one of the trees that you could swing out, jump off and land in the water. Growing up, Darrin and I, my girlfriends, his guy friends (but never Debbie) frequented it regularly in the summers.

Now, like two teenagers, Mike parked his truck there so we could make out.

This escalated dramatically and the way it did, what with our make up, break up, long separation, great phone sex and fantastic real sex, I decided I needed room to move. So I found the controls and maneuvered the back of Mike’s seat to near full on recline. I was out of my jacket, Mike out of his, I was straddling him and we kept making out with my hands up Mike’s sweater and Mike’s hands feeling me up in ways that made me press down and rock against his hard crotch.

I wanted him inside me.

And by his words I knew he wanted that too.

“We can do this,” I whispered into his neck.

“Honey –”

My hand slid down his belly then pressed in deeper as it slid over his groin and that got me an unintelligible growl that was so hot I felt it heat my entire body.

I lifted my head and caught his eyes in the moonlight.

“We can do this.” This time the words were breathy.

He held my eyes.

Then he whispered, “Get ready to climb on me, Angel.”

That was all I needed.

I rolled off him to the passenger side and made short work of tugging off my boots, my socks and my jeans, multitasking by taking my panties with them. Then I shifted and rolled back noting in my foreplay haze that Mike had got out a condom during my disrobing.

He was ripping it open. I was yanking at his belt. He slid it out of the packet. I was unbuttoning his jeans. Then I was yanking them down his hips and he was rolling it on.

By this time, my legs tucked into his hips, my head bent watching his hand work, I was breathing so heavy I was panting.

His hand went to my ass. I lifted my head, my lips went to his and I felt him position himself so I had the tip.

“We need to find a bed,” he muttered against my lips but it was rumbling, low and so hot it was scorching so that didn’t heat me. It burned straight through me.

“This’ll do,” I muttered back.

“We need to find a bed.”

I ground down, filling myself with him. His fingers clenched in the flesh of my ass, his other hand went from between us to drive into my hair, he groaned and I whimpered.

“You’re right, sweetheart, this’ll do,” he whispered against my lips then pressed my head down so he could take my mouth in a hot, wet kiss.

I rode him, slow, sweet, glorying in having Mike back inside me as he kissed me in his hungry way that I liked a whole lot and I did this a while.

Finally Mike stopped kissing me and ordered, “Go faster, Angel.”

“I like this.”

“Go faster, Dusty.”

“I –”

His hand went from my ass and his thumb found my clit.

I went faster.

“That’s my girl,” he muttered and I felt his smile against my mouth.

I didn’t care he got what he wanted because I freaking loved how he went about getting it. He was pressing, twitching, rolling. God, I’d never felt that before, not from a man except the times I’d been with him, of course. The pressure, the movement, it was better than any vibrator. It was the best.

I went faster.

Somehow, Mike shoved his body up the seat taking me with him so his long legs could clear the steering wheel. With knees cocked, his heels dug into the seat, his hips thrust up to meet my glides, his hand at my head became an arm wrapped around my waist and he drove me down as he powered up.

God, that was beyond the best.

“Baby,” I whimpered.

“Faster, Dusty,” he growled, his thumb pressing deeper and I gasped.

“Mike,” I breathed.

“I need you to ride me hard, honey.”

I did what he told me to do, it was beyond the beyond of the best and in no time it built until it exploded and scored straight through me. My head shot back, the moan slid up my throat and I came. Hard.

Mike was still powering up and driving me down but he’d switched arms, the thumb at my clit was now an arm around my waist and his other hand was back in my hair, shoving my face in his neck.

“Fuck, I wanna flip you,” he groaned.

I kept moving, hard, fast, meeting his drives, working to take him there. I’d learned in our earlier encounters Mike liked letting me take him in my mouth, climbing on top but he always ended things in complete control.

I moved my lips on his neck as I drove my hips into his.

His head came partially up and twisted, his fingers fisting in my hair, his lips at my ear. “Missed you, honey,” he growled.

Oh God, I liked that.

“Missed you too, Mike,” I whispered against his skin, riding him and licking his neck from his ear to his throat.

He shoved his face in my neck, ground me down on his cock and groaned.

I let him have it, my lips moving on his neck then his hold relaxed and I started gliding.

His hand slid up my back to join his other one in my hair and he gathered it away. I slid down on him and did what he wanted but didn’t ask for verbally. I lifted my head and gave him my mouth.

He held my hair in his hands and he kissed me the way I really liked it. Even though we were done, even though we gave each other the burn, he started the kiss slow like he had all the time in the world to explore then he built it and built it until I felt I’d be consumed by the heat.

Then he unfortunately ended it and moved my head so my face was again in his neck. His hand slid through my hair, pulling it to the side as his other arm wrapped around me.

“You warm enough?” he muttered.

“Mm-hmm…” I mumbled into his skin, pressing deep. His truck was on as was the heat. Environmentally unfriendly. Sexually necessary.

Suddenly, his arm around me tensed and he grumbled, “Fuck, I can’t believe I fucked my woman in my car by the side of a creek.”

I lifted my head and smiled down at him. “I know. Wasn’t it awesome?”

I saw the white flash of his teeth before he agreed, “It was but what it wasn’t, was what I wanted to give you after I dicked around with you.”

“Am I complaining?” I asked.

He was silent a second and the word was loaded with goodness when he whispered, “No.”

I dipped my head, aimed for his mouth in the dark and my aim proved true so I kissed him softly and whispered back, “Then don’t worry about it.”

He kissed me softly back, tugged my hair gently, I took the cue, lifted my head away an inch and he said, “You don’t have a used condom to find some way to dispose of without Finley riding the land on his tractor, finding it and getting ideas about this spot.”

I burst out laughing.

Mike repeated his words from earlier that night, “I wasn’t being funny.”

“I have a baggie in my purse,” I offered.

“You have a baggie in your purse?”

“Honey, I’ve been through airport security four times the past month. And I don’t clean out my purses when I change them. I just dump everything from one into the other. I’m collecting baggies. I probably have three.”

“Excellent news, sweetheart,” he muttered and I chuckled again. Then he asked, “How often do you change your purses?”

I blinked, suddenly feeling we were in dangerous territory because I had a lot of purses. I changed them to go with my outfits and shoes so I did this often. And I figured I was in Indiana for the long haul so I’d not packed light, ergo, I brought my horses and kilns and about six suitcases of clothes.

I was worried we’d hit a Mike Flashback considering he told me his ex had over two hundred pairs of shoes and that didn’t scratch the surface of what she bought so I shuddered to think what her handbag collection was like.

Hesitantly, I shared, “Uh…a little more than not enough, a little less than too many.”

Mike was silent a second then his arm gave me a squeeze and he said softly, “Angel, you work and you earn your purses. I was just asking.”

“Okay,” I said softly back.

“Now kiss me, climb off and find me a baggie,” he ordered.

“For a good guy you’re pretty bossy,” I informed him and got another arm squeeze.

“Dusty, kiss me, climb off and find me a baggie.”

“Whatever,” I muttered then did what I was told.