Since we were moving, I was going backward and doing it in heels, I lifted my hands to steady myself by curling my fingers on his shoulders.

He shifted slightly but kept moving me back.

“Uh…” I started, trailed off and was about to begin again when the backs of my legs hit car.

That was when I knew what he was up to.

And liked what he was up to.

“Joker,” I whispered.

He moved his hands from my hips, back to cup my behind.

Automatically, my fingers dug into the leather at his shoulders as I arched into him.

“You gonna wanna see all my builds when they’re done?” he asked quietly.

“Please,” I answered breathily.

“Then, baby, you gotta know, I show ’em to you, you give back by taking my fucking on the hood.”

“Oh,” I whispered, answering that demand by gliding my hands to hold tight at the side of his neck.

“We got a deal?”

“I’ve never… I… oh!” I ended on a cry as his hands slid down, fingers curling into the hem of my skirt and yanking it up.

“We got a deal?” he repeated and glided his hands in my panties to cup my bottom, skin against skin.

“Deal,” I panted.

He grinned, slanted his head and kissed me.

I slid my hands up into his hair and kissed him back.

He pushed my panties down until they fell to the floor of the garage. Then he grasped me where my thighs met my booty and lifted me up.

I felt the cold steel of the car on my behind.

I whimpered into his mouth as he bent over me, pushing me back, and I could feel the rough fabric of his jeans as I spread my legs to accommodate his hips.

“Like this dress,” he murmured against my lips, trailing his hand inside my dress up my side, up and up.

“I’m glad,” I whispered, moving my hands to his cut and shoving it over his shoulders.

His mouth went to my neck as his hands left me so I could shove his jacket down his arms.

I heard it slide to the ground as I went for his neck.

“We won’t scratch it?” I asked, dipping my hands down and pulling his shirt (not a tee, a nice one for our fancy date, though he still wore his cut because he always wore his cut) from his jeans.

“We scratch it, I’ll buff it,” he answered then slid his tongue up my neck to my ear as he glided his hand over my ribs to my breast.

“Okay,” I murmured as I reached inside his shirt, trailing up the hot skin of his back then changed directions and dug my fingertips into the waistband of his jeans.

He pressed his hips between my legs.

I nipped his jaw.

His mouth went from my ear to my lips and he kissed me.