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They make plans to meet at a bar outside Colorado Springs on the night he gets back from Budapest. He's not sure what he's expecting, but when he arrives she's sitting on the hood of her car and it makes him think of their road trip when he got back from Iraq. He likes the way the anticipation courses through him at the sight of her sitting there in tight jeans and a t-shirt that hugs her like sin.

He steps up in front of her, just like he had at one point that last time but this time he crowds her, leans into her personal space a little and likes the way she doesn't give. He's breathing her air, her breath smells spicy like cinnamon gum. He looks down her body at the way the denim pulls tight across her thighs and he knows one way or another he's ending up between her legs tonight.

She says something inane about him being home but he focuses on her mouth and loses her words to the way her lips part and flash him a peek of her tongue. He's living dangerously tonight so he palms her thigh and says something about not being home yet but he's working on it.

At some point they make it inside and the bar is dark. He knows why she chose it. There are two pool tables, a worn out bar, scuffs on the floor and no one around but the bartender. The music isn't too loud but it drowns out the sound of their voices before the bartender can hear them and he likes the way this place is reminiscent of that first bar where she sat across the table from him and he told her he knew she liked to get off when she was on the phone with him. They're so far past that now that it seems like a stupid thing to have said, but it got them here so he's not complaining. He'd be six kinds of stupid for her if that's what it took. Hell, he probably already has been.

They order a round but both of them are sipping at the liquor like they're taking two cars back to the Springs. They play a game of pool with shitty sticks but she still kicks his ass, probably because he spends more time looking at the way she bends over the table than he does at the field.

She's loose with him, brushing up against him in time with some sultry seventies tune that reminds him of the days he did the sorts of things he thinking about doing with her tonight. After an hour they switch to beer and she snags his bottle out of his hands and does obscene things to the mouth of the bottle that probably were pretty benign to anyone who hadn't been fucking her with his voice for the better part of three months.

His brain short circuits when she excuses herself to the bathroom and she sashays away from him. It probably isn't an invitation to follow her, but he does anyway. Predictably, when he gets there, she's disappeared inside the ladies' room. It's not the first time he's gotten a signal wrong, or hoped for one when there wasn't, but it still rubs him wrong to think he's committed more to this plan she doesn't know about than she has. He ducks into the men's room, killing a bird with a trip already taken and when he comes back out into the hallway she stops him with a hand on his chest. He looks down at her hand where it's splayed across his shirt front and notices her long fingers and the way they dig into him a little. She pushes him back against the wall and that's the point when he realizes that things are going to get good.

She kicks his feet apart with a booted foot and insinuates herself between his legs. That's all it takes for him to go hard. With her lips next to his ear she tells him she's done not knowing what he feels like. She snakes a hand down between them and rubs his erection with her knuckles. He wants to say something cool but whatever it was comes out strangled. She exhales hotly against his ear and turns her hand to grasp him. His knees buckle.

He bucks his hips at her and pushes her back from him. He likes her hands on him, but this isn't the way things are supposed to go down. He's the one who's been getting hot and hard over her and damn it she's going to give up what he's looking for. But she's standing there looking proud of herself and he can't have that so he backs her up against the opposite wall. Her eyes go dark and wanting as he advances on her.

He fingers the button on her jeans offering something he's not about to give and she wiggles into his fingers. He flashes a grin at her leans in close. He's got smooth words on his lips but he bypasses them to get his teeth on her earlobe. She makes the same sound she makes when she comes and he knows he's got her.

He drags her out of the bar by her fingers and he's got the tailgate down on his truck before he can talk himself out of a public display of something. There's still no one in the parking lot, though, so he coaxes her up onto the tailgate and steps up between her legs, loops his arms around her neck and smiles.

She smiles back and tilts her head to the side, scootches a little closer to him and only inches separate the hard part of him from the hot part of her. She gives him a sassy grin and tells him she's wet. It makes him gape because he's never seen the word on her lips that way and he didn't expect her to come out guns blazing. But it makes him drop his hand down between her legs and press his fingertips to the denim to find it damp and so, so hot. He grasps her hip and pulls her the rest of the way to him so he's pressed up against that hot part of her.

She makes that sound again and wraps one leg around him and suddenly he thrusting into the vee of her legs and dry humping her like he can't just take her home and do this for real. But somehow, after everything, this is better. This is now. She's leaned back against his arm and he can look down her body over her breasts, hard nipples evident in the neon lights from the bar. He thrusts into her again and she gasps, her tongue comes out to wet her lips and he realizes that after all this time, after everything they've done, he hasn't even kissed her.

He hauls her up to him, searches her eyes, asking permission for something it feels like they've been doing for a long time. He's talked about having his tongue inside her, it seems strange to be wondering if he can kiss her. She takes the decision away from him and leans in for the kiss. Her tongue is strong against his. She's as keyed up as he is and she's not afraid to show him. He likes that about her. After everything they've said and after the way he used her after Morocco, he's not surprised.

As a matter of fact, he lets her have the kiss for that reason. She strokes him with her tongue and rolls her hips against him and it feels so good he's contemplating laying her out across the bed of his truck but his knees were past that years ago so instead he presses into her and slides a hand past the back waistband of her jeans. It's a tight fit but he's got a finger tip nestled into the crack of her ass so he doesn't really care. He squeezes the cheek he's palming and she groans into his mouth.

She pulls back to tell him that if she'd known where this was going she'd have worn something with a little better access. He tells her he's fine with it and uses his other hand to pop her button and pull down the zipper, then he jams both his hands into her pants and lifts her off the tailgate and into his hard on.

She's telling him to wait and reaching for the button on his pants but he tells her no. He's going to make her come like this, in her jeans. She laughs at him, calls him cocky but moans when he presses just right into her clit. The change in position and the loosening of her jeans has her fitted against him just right and he's thrusting into her like he's on a time limit. He thinks he might have had some self control once but he has no idea where it is tonight.

She's babbling in his ear all the dirty things she says to him when they're on the phone together and at some point she brings her hands up to squeeze her breasts. He knocks one hand away with his chin and uses his teeth on one hard nipple and the sound that comes out of her goes straight to his cock. Her free hand snakes its way between them and into her pants. He releases her breast to watch the way her fingers are moving and he leaves her be for a few quick thrusts and then he yanks her hand out of her pants and puts her fingers right in his mouth.

Jesus but she tastes good. Tangy, a little sweet and slick against his tongue. He contemplates stripping her out of her jeans and finishing her with his mouth but in the end he just guides her hand back down and into her pants, lets her run rings around her clit while he thrusts into her then takes her fingers back for another taste.

It's that second taste of her that brings him to the edge. He pulls back from her and asks her if she's close because he's going to come. She gives him another one of those saucy smiles and tells him she's just waiting on him. She pulls her hand back out of her pants and when he reaches for it she shakes her head, smiles, and puts her fingers in her own mouth. Holy fuck, that's hot. And then, she reaches out with that fragrant hand, grabs him by the back of the head and pulls him in for a kiss at the same time she slams her hips into his.

He's a goner. He's coming in his pants and jerking against her and she moans then pulls away and arches her back. Her neck is long and vibrant red from the neon lights while she comes. Her hips continue to roll into his while she rides out her waves of pleasure. He watches her flush until the neon light blends into her skin and then he looks back at her, her eyes dark and sated and now, he finally, finally knows what she looks like when she comes. And she's gorgeous. She's flushed and sweaty and happy.

He kisses her again, can still taste her in her mouth. He pulls back from her, looks down, makes a face at the mess he's made of his pants then tells her he doesn't usually come first and that it's all her fault. She laughs melodiously. She's proud of herself, he can tell. Hell, he's proud of her too. It wasn't that long ago she'd confessed she'd never tasted herself and look at what she did tonight.

He tells her she's gorgeous and she tells him it's him. He doesn't care what it is, she looks hot sitting there tousled, satiated, pants open and one jersey-clad breast wet from his mouth. She pushes him back, hops down from the tailgate and does up her pants. She gives him one long, slow, lingering kiss, licks his bottom lip then tells him it's late.

He follows her back into Colorado Springs, flashes his lights at her when she turns down her road and heads home. When he gets there he finds the bed in disarray and a quick search turns up a pair of panties. He smiles.