Brazen Mistakes (Brazen Boys #3)

22. Clara

Chapter 22

Clara

M y panic nearly drowns me. What happens if we’re stuck? What happens if we both go to jail?

Luckily, a glint of moonlight catches something shiny tucked into the console, and I dive for it, finding another button. Pushing it, I don’t dare breathe until the gate rolls in, opening toward us.

Thank God.

“Nice. Head down,” Jansen says with a grateful glance as he squeezes the car between the plain metal grates, barely clearing it. We fly onto the street before the gate is fully open.

We’re two blocks away before a strangled yelp explodes from me, no longer able to keep my silence. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God,” I repeat, glancing from mirror to window to back end, straining to see any flashing lights. Or any lights at all. It is the middle of the night .

Jansen lets out a whoop, and I can’t do anything but laugh, all my nerve endings alive, almost like I just came. Not exactly the same, but I get it. I get why Jansen loves this so much.

“Oh my God,” I say again, my brain short-circuiting and blocking any other words.

“You like, beautiful?” he asks, his grin wide, his eyes wild.

“I fucking like, Trouble.”

We share a maniac’s party, yelping and screaming, everything in me too big to stay in, all of it exploding in this small space, shared with equal vigor between us.

I’m more alive right now than I’ve been, well, probably ever.

Cackling, I dive at him, licking his cheek like some weirdo, and his grin gets bigger, if that’s even possible. “If we didn’t have to keep moving for a while, the things I’d do to you, beautiful. God. I wish you could see yourself right now.”

“I take it you like?”

“I fucking like, Clara.”

Alight with unspent energy and bravery, I unbuckle and crawl across the console.

“What are you planning?”

“Nothing you won’t like. You’re a good driver, right?”

“How good?”

“Good enough for you to take me up on that free upgrade offer from a while ago?”

I watch him through my eyelashes, tossing my hat, mittens, and scarf into the back seat, waiting for him to remember that hand job months ago, the offer I made for a blow job that he decided to save for later.

He slams his head back into the headrest when he realizes what I’m saying. “Wait. Really? Now? ”

Instead of answering, I take off my coat before helping him out of his, then unbuckle his belt, unhooking the button on his jeans.

“This long underwear is getting really warm with you looking at me like that.”

“Then we’d better get you out of it,” I say, unzipping his fly, and helping him shimmy his pants and long underwear over his hips, his boxers conspicuously absent when his cock pops right out, bobbing in the fractured light from passing streetlamps.

I take him in my hand, warm and soft against my palm, and he hisses, fists clenching the wheel. “Shit.”

My maniac energy follows me as I drop down as best I can and pull him deep into my mouth without warning or preamble, the car swerving ever so slightly as I chuckle with him deep in my throat.

The angle is shit, but the risk of giving him head in a stolen car while he zips away from a possible police chase, it’s so vibrant, so much bigger and bolder than anything I’d ever even imagined I’d do, I can’t get enough of it.

I want to bottle up this feeling of freedom, of living life on the edge of danger, of just doing, being, not thinking or worrying or planning. Alive with nothing but vibes.

I circle my tongue as I bob my head, Jansen taking one hand from the wheel to stroke my hair, my neck, my arms, whatever he can reach with this weird angle, and I want to make him come so fast it hurts.

If I feel this big, he needs to, too.

I lap and bob, sucking him down, choking myself on his cock, every groan and curse of his making me wetter .

Keeping one hand on him to guide my mouth, I sneak the other into my panties, gasping against his cock when I press my fingers into myself, slippery and hot.

“Oh God, Clara, I’m so close. I don’t want to come without you,” he groans, his hips twitching as he tries to control himself.

But I’m so ready, it’s not like he’s going to have to wait.

I clench around my fingers, my thumb grazing my clit at the same time Jansen bucks up into my mouth, moaning as hot bursts of cum shoot down my throat.

Shuddering through my own orgasm, I swallow down the salt of him, only a pathetic whine escaping me as I struggle not to leave any cum on the leather upholstery.

“Holy hell,” he says, shuddering beneath me, a sigh following the muttered nonsense, his muscles suddenly loose.

Still riding my bold emotions, I risk another twirl of my tongue around the head of his likely oversensitive cock, and I’m rewarded with a groan and a swerve of the car.

Grinning, I slump back into my seat, pulling my hand from my pants.

Jansen grabs it before I move too far, sucking my fingers into his mouth, eyes meeting mine for long enough that a burst of fear flashes that we’ll crash.

But when the trance breaks, we’re still safely in our lane, winding through another street of mansions.

“Seriously, Clara. I…that…wow. Just wow.”

I laugh, lighter after an orgasm, but still so full of life that I can’t keep it in.

“I take it road head isn’t part of your usual car theft routine? ”

He chuckles, catching my eye and holding my gaze for a second too long. “No. It’s not. But it should be from here on out. How are you exactly what I need?”

That question requires thinking, which is the last thing I want to do right now. “You know how to steal cars, and I know how to give head. We both have our skills,” I tease.

Dragging his pants back up, he laces our fingers together while the turns start to look familiar, the parking lot we left his car in coming into view.

He squeezes my hand. “I don’t want to split up.”

“Me neither. But it won’t be for long.”

He hands me his keys and idles next to his car. “Wait outside when we get there. I’ll come out when Tao and I are done.”

“Got it.”

I lean in for a lingering kiss, wanting to keep these feelings alive and bright for as long as possible.

But the farther we get from the mansions and the adrenaline, the easier it gets for the hollow worry to slink back in, stealing my joy, my lightness.

I can see how someone could get addicted to this. I can see how I could get addicted to this.

And that’s the scariest bit of news I’ve gotten so far this week.