Breaking Through Read online

  In the half-second that followed, in the dim light from the street lamp nearby, Miranda was struck with electric-blue panic that she had made a mistake, but Simon didn’t hesitate long before returning her kiss.

  There was nothing awkward about the way Simon Reeve kissed. He overtook her instantly, throwing his arm across the back of her seat and cupping her face with his other hand. She didn’t resist as he stroked the slope of her neck, or when he slipped his hand beneath the V-neckline of her shirt.

  She parted her lips and, with a flick of her tongue against his, she invited him in. Everything outside the cosy interior of his car vanished as he pushed her bra-strap down and thrust his hand inside the flimsy cup.

  ‘Thank Christ you made the first move,’ he said against her mouth as he pinched her nipple between the joints of two fingers, ‘because I sure as hell wasn’t going to do it and risk getting ripped a second arsehole.’

  ‘It was all the talk about your dick,’ she joked, and reached down to check on the progress of that appendage.

  Beneath the fabric of his trousers she felt soft becoming hard, and she went for his zipper.

  He let go of the seat and pushed her hand away. ‘I’m still trying to be chivalrous.’

  ‘Fuck your chivalry, and fuck what I said earlier about not giving a handjob.’

  He held her wrist tight to keep her hands off him, but his fingers pinching her hard nipple told her that it wasn’t his chivalry he was concerned with, but twisting her in knots. Worst of all was the way he watched her expression as he delivered one hot sting after another.

  This time, her efforts to shake free from his grip succeeded, but she didn’t abuse his generosity by making another grab. She slipped her hands behind his neck. The bristle against her palms raised gooseflesh all over her body. She closed her eyes as he twisted his tongue around and around hers.

  He drew her into the hot cavern of his mouth and Miranda moaned as he closed his lips around her tongue and sucked.

  The car seemed to shrink as he turned his attention to her other breast. The novelty of being confined with him had faded, leaving in its place a need to spread herself out before him, to urge him down her body until his hot tongue eased the ache he was creating.

  ‘Take this off,’ he whispered, tugging the hem of her shirt, and as soon as she leaned forward to oblige he shucked it over her head.

  He turned rough for just a moment, shoving her bra down past her ribs and trapping her arms in the broad straps. As he mouthed a wet trail over her chin and along her neck, Miranda twisted her fingers in his hair and fought to draw a full breath.

  She expected more sting from his teeth, but his mouth was surprisingly gentle compared to his fingers. He lifted her breast and the hungry noise he made as he suckled her raced in her blood and exploded into the stifling atmosphere. It was becoming harder and harder to breathe as he teased her, harder to stay seated rather than push him back against the driver’s seat and squash herself between the steering wheel and his hard body to straddle him. She took it as long as she could, until his attention turned to the other exposed breast and completed her transformation into pure liquid heat.

  She dragged his head back up and pressed her brow to his. ‘If you won’t take your cock out, then take my shorts off.’

  ‘There’s not a lot of room in here.’

  ‘Like that’s ever stopped anyone before.’

  She lifted her hips, and Simon hooked shorts and panties and dragged them down to her ankles. Then she took up the best position she could manage, leaning back against the door with her feet tucked under her ass on the seat.

  Simon quickly unbuttoned and unzipped, and shot her a lopsided grin in the semi-dark as he unleashed himself.

  ‘Don’t get too excited, I just don’t want to split my zipper.’

  ‘We could get in the back.’

  He shook his head. ‘No, I want you just as you are.’

  Clutching the headrest with one hand and the edge of the seat with the other, Miranda bit down on her moan as he tucked two fingers into his mouth and withdrew them, wet and shimmering in the orange glow.

  ‘Just like you are,’ he said, his voice a delicious growl as he rested his hand on her abdomen.

  Miranda dug her nails into the upholstery beneath her as he slid his slick fingers over bare flesh, over the narrow triangle of hair that led the way to where she was soaked and ready.

  He evaded her clit, instead sliding his thumb through the slippery valley between her swollen nether lips.

  ‘I’m dying to turn the overhead light on and get a good look, but I don’t want to draw any attention and get arrested for fingering you in a church parking lot.’

  Whatever came next would be good, she knew, but not good enough, not until that hard thing she could see only in shadow was buried inside her wet and welcoming passage.

  Keeping her hold on the headrest, she reached low and took his hand. She pushed forward and sucked his fingers into her mouth, right to the knuckle.

  He moaned as she withdrew, showing him her tongue where the taste of her juices popped on her taste buds, then tucked his hand back between her legs.

  ‘If you won’t let me do it, at least jerk off while you’re playing with me.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am.’

  He dropped his other hand to his lap. He sucked in a deep breath, and inside her head Miranda echoed his desire for more light. She wanted to watch him stroke himself now that he was filling her with those long fingers.

  A rhythm built between them, guided by the dual movements of his hands on himself and inside her. Miranda pushed up to meet the firm thrust of his fingers and held onto his solid forearm, marvelling as he seemed to send electric shivers from the tips.

  ‘Aren’t you worried about your fancy upholstery again?’ she asked, laughing breathlessly.

  ‘Which one of us is going to make the mess?’

  The way he was riding her with his hand put that certainty into question. She clutched the seat back and moved as much as she could as her body became chaotic, unsure whether the root of that perfect pleasure came from his fingers rubbing her inside or his thumb rolling around and around her clitoris.

  ‘I didn’t hear an answer to that,’ he said.

  That glorious rasping tone was just as effective as his fingers. She bit her bottom lip and answered with her body, lifting her hips to match the strumming of his thumb, but Simon loosened her tongue by unleashing a frenzy at the end of his wrist, pumping her hard and fast.

  ‘Let me hear it,’ he went on savagely. ‘Are you going to come for me?’

  ‘Yes – don’t stop.’ Miranda released his hand and slapped her palm down on the dash, but with nothing to hold onto she abandoned it and gripped the seat beneath her again. The shift gave her leverage she didn’t have before.

  She wasn’t sure whether it was the car that rocked or if it was just the juddering pleasure that emanated from between her legs, and she couldn’t tell if the windows really were fogging up or if it was just the film across her eyes.

  Simon went still so suddenly that Miranda wondered if she had begun to black out, but he flexed his fingers as he slowly withdrew. As he moved slightly to place his other hand on her abdomen, she dug her nails into his precious upholstery.

  ‘It’s a tight fit in here, but I think I can make it work,’ he mused, and the low laughter that followed told her he wasn’t talking exclusively about the car.

  ‘Pervert, talking about my pussy like that,’ she joked, and as he filled her up again she stretched her leg out until her foot nudged his shoulder.

  She couldn’t get much of his expression in the smudge of the semi-darkness, but she felt the shift in the car, both physical and atmospheric. It became stifling, the charge warning her to hold tight as he filled her to the knuckle.

  The hands that framed her pussy remained still, but his fingers went to work: inside her slick walls, curling against that sweet spot with agonising precision; outside, thumb a
nd forefinger pinching and tugging the slick hood around her clit.

  ‘Get your ass off the seat and move with me,’ he egged her on.

  Even as her brain processed his command, her body obeyed instantly. He’d found all her buttons in the awkward front seat of that car and he just kept hitting them again and again and again, not only turning her on but making her seismic.

  He went on cooing, urging and demanding, his voice going from soft and lilting in one breath to hard in the next. She used the seat, her foot on his shoulder, and her whole body to take what he gave her until it overwhelmed her.

  ‘Oh – Jesus – stop,’ she hissed without meaning it as her orgasm rocked her inner walls and sent ecstatic waves throughout her entire body.

  He didn’t stop rubbing her clit, not until she said it again and this time meant it, as the pleasure became too much. She released her hold on the seat and pushed his hand away from her belly.

  For just a few moments she allowed herself to go limp, eyes closed and head resting on the lip where the window met the car door, but Simon’s continuing exploration kept her awake. The hand she had pushed away rested on her outstretched leg while the other kept on stroking, fingers keeping those licks of electricity pulsing outward.

  She opened her eyes and covered his hand. ‘I guess I can’t bust your balls any more about the bathroom thing now that I’ve gotten off in the front seat of your car, can I?’

  ‘And my devious plan comes to fruition.’

  He gave his hand to her, slippery fingers sliding against hers in a perfect moment of quiet. She let her leg fall to rest on his thigh, and felt his hard cock rubbing against her calf.

  ‘Is there enough room for me there without snapping my neck?’

  He groaned and pulled away. ‘I think I need to get you home. We’ll be cutting it close as it is, I think.’

  He reached around her to the phone tucked into the cup holder, and the car lit up with a disappointing bluish green.

  Modesty hit her as she looked down her body. There was enough light to reveal her lewd pose: sprawled out and still throbbing before a man she barely knew.

  Even though she had just come on his fingers, Miranda wasn’t quite sure she dared to pose her question until she watched him try and wrangle his hard-on back into his pants.

  ‘So, my sister will be out the door almost as soon as I walk in it,’ she told him as she dragged her shorts up over her legs. She didn’t look at him as she spoke, she just let her words hang in the atmosphere. ‘The baby will be asleep. If you wanted to, you could come in once Juliet takes off.’

  He reached out to turn on the overhead light and gave her a wide smile as she reattached her bra. ‘Are you asking me to come home with you?’

  She grinned right back at him. ‘Yeah, I am, but only because I pity you and the hard dick you just tucked back in your pants.’

  ‘Oh, no, I get it. It has nothing to do with all the things you could do with my hard dick.’

  ‘Well, a couple of things in particular spring to mind.’ She shook out her shirt and raised a brow at him. ‘You up for it?’

  He switched off the light and turned the engine over. ‘I’m really going to count on you to make sure I don’t get lost this time.’

  Chapter Three

  She left Simon parked on the street just a few houses down from the one she and Juliet rented and walked through the kitchen door right on time.

  The commute had been an easy one: a straight line off the bridge and then a right-hand turn. They made it in about ten minutes, while Miranda was still buzzing from her orgasm.

  Her sister was already dressed for the evening in one of the many timeless creations she crammed in her closet. Tonight it was a polka-dot dress with a pleated skirt that looked like it belonged on Lucille Ball, paired with black boots that laced up to her ankle. Her make-up was, as usual, enviable compared to the basics Miranda put on to go to her job: bronze and bold and making her blue eyes look like jewels in the sand.

  ‘I’ve been dying to know all night what the deal was with that text,’ Juliet said from the kitchen table, where the contents of her enormous handbag were strewn.

  ‘I got a ride with someone from work I didn’t know very well,’ Miranda lied as she hung her own bag on the hook by the door and draped the damp jacket over it. ‘He asked if I wanted to grab a coffee first and he had a kind of serial-killer vibe to him, so I wanted to be sure.’

  ‘Hot serial killer like Dexter or –’

  ‘More like the kind who sits alone in his Mom’s basement.’

  Juliet laughed and unscrewed a jar of perfumed lotion, something homemade she’d gotten off of Etsy. Ever since Miranda started to sell her drawings on the site, Juliet had become a raging addict. If she needed something – clothes, make-up, jewellery or a new iPhone case – she went right to the site. While Miranda’s canvas was watercolour paper, Juliet’s was her own body.

  ‘Is someone picking you up?’

  ‘I’m meeting Giselle down at Starbucks. I need a caffeine and sugar fix before I go.’ Having daubed her pulse-points with jasmine, Juliet swept her arm across the table and loaded her massive purse once more. ‘I’ll be back before the sun comes up this time, I promise. I’ll bring you breakfast.’

  ‘I’ll pass,’ Miranda said, remembering the last time Juliet brought her breakfast of a soggy meatball sub.

  ‘Then you can make me breakfast when I roll in,’ Juliet teased, and for the first time since Miranda entered she looked at her younger sister. ‘Jesus, your make-up. You really ought to switch to waterproof.’

  As Juliet pulled her into a hug, Miranda made a mental note to check her face in the mirror before letting Simon into the house.

  ‘Do me a favour and don’t drink too much,’ she entreated Juliet.

  ‘No promises.’

  ‘And please don’t put anything up your nose tonight.’

  ‘No promises.’

  Miranda bit her tongue as Juliet swept out. She didn’t have it in her to be too hard on Juliet about her vices, especially not tonight when Miranda was about to bring a man into the house for near-anonymous sex.

  She darted up to her bedroom, to the window overlooking the street, and watched her sister run effortlessly down the street in those heels, then turned on the bedside light and drew the curtains.

  She went down the hall and checked on Eddie. Out like a light, just like she’d hoped. On her way home, she’d fostered the fear that he’d still be sick and finicky, but the toddler-sized lump in the middle of the crib reassured her.

  She did a quick make-up check, then sent a text to the number she’d punched into her phone on the ride over.

  By the time she made it back downstairs there was a gentle knocking at the door. She didn’t even think about the mess in the living room, with toys stuffed into couch cushions and empty soda bottles on end tables. As soon as she opened the door and saw him standing there, filling the doorway, she could only think of how he would look sprawled across her bed.

  ‘Should I have brought the poncho?’

  Miranda stepped aside to let him in. ‘Don’t need it. I’ve got protection.’

  As she closed the door and leaned against it, Simon shimmied off his trench and draped it over the back of the rocker. He took a sweeping look around before turning his attention to her.

  ‘You did the paintings on the walls?’

  ‘That depends. Do you like them?’

  ‘I do. They’re simple, but they take you places.’ He strode in front of the sofa and gestured to the painting above it. It was Juliet’s favourite, a grey birch forest with a tiny spot of colour in the branches where a fat bird, a cardinal, rested. ‘And they sell pretty well?’

  ‘I’m not making a living yet, but I’m not starving. They usually end up in nurseries or kids’ rooms, which is kind of ironic since I started doing this type of thing when Des was pregnant.’

  He pointed to another painting, this one above the credenza. ‘And this is he
r?’

  ‘That’s Des.’

  She pushed away from the door but kept her hands behind her, twisting her fingers together as he gazed at the portrait of her sister. She wanted to hook him by the tie he’d now loosened and draw him up the stairs to her bedroom, but couldn’t bring herself to do so at such a moment, when he was showing reverence not only to her craft but also to the subject.

  ‘Des,’ he said thoughtfully, then laughed. ‘Desdemona. It has to be Desdemona.’

  ‘Well done,’ she said as she came up next to him.

  He laughed and turned, pulling his tie off. ‘I was a little slow on the uptake, but I get it now. Juliet, Desdemona and Miranda. Shakespeare’s women.’

  ‘Yeah, that was my Mom. She had that old book for children and she loved it, even if she couldn’t stand to sit through even an hour of Shakespeare By The Sea. I always wonder what she would have called us if we had all come out boys.’

  ‘And the baby …’

  ‘Eddie. Not after Shakespeare, after my grandfather. The whimsy passed, thank God, otherwise some kid named Orlando would be getting his ass kicked on the playground in a few years.’

  Simon laughed, a wonderful rolling sound that surrounded her like fog, and Miranda gravitated towards him.

  ‘You weren’t asking about his name, were you?’ she murmured as he swiped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer.

  ‘Does he sleep through the night yet?’

  ‘Yes, thank God, and he could sleep through a bomb. He might need me once or twice, but otherwise …’

  With a low growl, Simon cupped her ass. He lifted her onto her toes and pushed forward, letting her know first-hand that he was as eager for her now as he had been in the car.

  ‘It was a bad idea to leave me stewing in my own juices out there,’ he teased her as he ground against her, the point of his cock pressing against her still-sensitive clit. ‘I mean, leaving me out there to think long and hard about what to do when I had you alone again.’

  Miranda rocked in tune with him. The friction was perfect, absolutely perfect, even through the layers between them, and she was still sensitive enough that the pressure against her clit sent ticklish pulses through her pussy.