Excerpt from Short and Sexy 2, copyright 2010 by Meg Harris.
The sound was equal parts pleasure and irritation. Matt Thornton had driven his friend Sage Hagan home after a movie marathon at his house, and as they always did, they'd wound up talking for half an hour in his pickup truck. That was perfectly normal for them.
But then they'd suddenly found themselves kissing, which was something of an innovation.
Not that it was an innovation Matt minded. The kisses had rapidly gotten hotter and wetter, and he'd begun wondering why on earth they hadn't done this before.
But what the hell. They were doing it now, and that was all that mattered.
Except they weren't doing it, not really, because the cab of his truck was too small.
Well, okay, it wasn't totally the fault of his truck. He had to admit that all the junk littering the cab didn't help. He’d never been the neatest guy, and he had sort of forgotten to clean out the truck lately. Like, anytime in the past six months. There were books (everything from The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy to Raising Arabians) and cheeseburger wrappers and a box full of small tractor parts that he'd gotten the other day, but hadn't quite gotten around to taking into the barn yet...
Anyway, he was trying really hard to get nearer to Sage, but it wasn't working very well. Hence the irritated ahhhh.
“Matt,” she whispered. Her hand was up under his shirt, stroking his chest, which felt better than he'd ever imagined it could. He wanted her to do that for the rest of the night. Or maybe the rest of the week. “I just can't quite...”
“Yeah,” he mumbled into her ear, which he was nibbling on, carefully but enthusiastically. “Maybe if we go inside...”
She sighed, and he felt her breath against his throat. Goosebumps broke out all over his skin. “My roommate is home.”
“Um. Okay. So if we're going to...”
“Well, I guess we could drive back to your farm.”
Ha. He was not taking his hands off her long enough to drive back to the farm. No way. He was kind of in the middle of something here, thank you very much.
At least, he ought to be in the middle of something, if his damn truck wasn't a rolling garbage can, and too small besides.
“Unnnhhh.” A new sound rumbled from his chest as her fingers brushed over one of his nipples, and he quivered all over. He reached out and grabbed her by the waist, and tried to swivel on the bench seat and place her onto his lap.
There was a crunching sound. Oh, yeah, that's where those Doritos went.
The fragrance of nacho cheese flavored Doritos filled the cab, and Sage sniffed. “What is that smell?”
“I don't smell anything,” he lied. “Only you.”
“Um...” She sniffed again, and wrinkled her nose. “I don't think that's me. I'm not wearing food-scented perfume.”
“Look, it's no big deal, okay? Just a bag of chips.”
“Matt...” She sighed again, and tried to climb into his lap. The box of tractor parts on the floor got in the way, and she wound up sitting on his knees. Not exactly where he wanted her. “Why don't you clean out this junk every now and then?”
“This is nothing,” he said, grabbing her by the arms and hauling her up his body, forcibly but gently, so that their bodies were aligned better. “You should see my desk at the farm.”
“I've seen your desk. It scares me.”
“Well, see, this is better. It's only mildly terrifying, not outright scary.”
She tried, experimentally, to rise up on her knees, but her right knee slipped off the side of the too-narrow seat. He caught her before she fell, and she gave an annoyed moan, hanging onto him. “Matt... there just isn't enough room in here.”
“Sure there is. We just have to get creative.”
“Do you really want us to have our first time while squished into a truck cab that smells like Doritos?”
He blinked at her. “Why not?”
“Oh, I don't know. Don't you think maybe our first time ought to be a little more... special?”
He squinted suspiciously. “This is one of those girl things, isn't it? First times are supposed to be all candles and pretty music and rose petals, right?”
“I don't need candles and rose petals,” she said, running her hands along his ribs until he squirmed. “But Doritos and old Quarter Pounder wrappers and boxes full of machinery don't exactly create the romantic ambience women dream about.”
He closed his eyes, loving the feel of her hands against his skin, and considered her words. The night he’d lost his virginity, ten years ago, there had been candles and pretty music and a crackling fire. And yet in the end, the experience had been strangely empty. Hollow.
He hadn't quite been able to understand that at the time. But he was older now, and although he certainly wasn't what anyone would call wise, he was smart enough to understand that it wasn't candles and music and flowers that made sex special. It was simply a matter of having the right girl in your arms.
And this, he thought as he nuzzled her dark copper hair, was definitely the right girl.
“Sage,” he said at last, his voice harsh, “I think it'll be perfect no matter what.”
