He didn’t answer, just kept his eyes on her mouth as a corner of his quirked up in a slow half-smile.
Shit. April’s butt bumped against elm bark, but her nose would’ve knocked his if she looked back, his face so close she could smell his breath. Spearmint gum and the hint of a cigarette. “Wait…”
His lips pressed against hers, head cocked and neck bent. Her hand sprang between them, but her palm against his abdomen encouraged instead of stalled.
Zach snaked an arm around the small of her back and brought her breasts flush against his chest, a groan sighing against her pursed mouth. Her nipple hardened against the back of her hand, cheeks blooming as she cursed her decision to skip the bra that morning. Zach’s mouth split open in a smile, nudging her lips apart. His tongue thrust inside, hot and soft and slipping against her own. It wasn’t anything like she thought it would be—skin so sensitive it felt like their insides were twined together. Caution evaporated; she twisted his shirt in her knuckles and hauled his hips to hers.
Crickets stopped chirping, sunlight dimmed, all sensation faded into the heat of his body, his hands, his erection against her crotch.
Reality raced back with the soft vibration of her zipper. “No–stop.”
Fingers stilled immediately, “Okay,” and her jeans snugged tight around her waist again, fly intact.
“Don’t be.” He straightened and combed a hand through his hair. “Come on, I’ll give you a ride home.”
April made herself meet his gaze. Warm and kind. She grinned, “Okay.”
Zach wove through the trees and offered her a hand. “Hop on.”
“You drive a motorcycle?” Elation seared through every nerve.
This flash fiction is a part of the Blogging From A to Z (April 2015) Challenge. A new installment arrives every day in April, following the alphabet; check the calendar below to see which letters post on which days. Read more about this blogfest HERE.