He did this thinking he’d get a plate on the guy’s truck, the number on his house, and run him and the owner of the GT on Monday when he was back at work.

* * * * *

Saturday Night

Cher drove down on him and he had no choice but to close his eyes, losing the sight of her, naked and riding him, her back arched, arms up, hands lifting up her hair, just like he’d ordered her to ride him.

He clamped his fingers into the flesh of her hips to pin her down as he grunted and exploded, shooting hot and deep into a fucking condom.

She ground into his cock as he kept coming, and only when it started moving from him did he feel her tits hit his chest before the warmth of the rest of her pressed close, her face in his neck, her lips nuzzling his throat.

Garrett was still coming down when he released his hold on her hips and trailed his hands in then up her back. He slid one around her at her shoulder blades and glided the other one into her hair, gathering it gently in his fist to keep her where she was because he liked the feel of her lips at his throat.

“You good?” he asked, his voice thick from sex and gruff from taking most of her weight.

It was a question he knew the answer to. She was good because she’d come before him, and from the looks of it, even if his orgasm had been phenomenal, hers was better.

Fuck, but she got off on the way he liked to play.

He liked control. He wanted what he wanted and enjoyed dominating the situation so he’d get just that.

Most of the partners he’d had liked it too. But they were often hesitant or skittish, locked in their heads, hung up on shit that took time or training to get them past.

He didn’t mind the time or the training, but considering none of them were women he intended to keep, both were eventually a waste.

Cher let loose. Gave it all and gave it up readily. She was with him all the way from the start.

He wanted to spank her ass, she took it, pushed it, came hard for him. He wanted to finger her on his dining room table and watch, she kept her arms over her head and gave it to him. He wanted her to perform by riding him with her body on display, hands in her hair, she took his cock and gave him the best show he’d ever had.

His to toy with.

His to dominate.

Just his.

His.

On that thought, he felt that unease again sour his gut even as his arm around her tightened.

She lifted up her head and caught his eyes. “I’m good, honey.”

Looking into her face, sated, soft, happy, his hand drifted out of her hair to cup her jaw.