Swallowing my grin, I step up on the truck rail and lean over him, clicking his seatbelt in place. As I crowd his space, his hands reach out for me, pulling at my hips, stroking over my ribs. I go still and he groans, his face dropping forward to press against my shoulder. “You smell so fucking good,” he says, his tone tinged with aching need. “Sometimes I jerk off using your body wash. I pretend the gel is you.” His hands slide back down my sides, gentle caress. “I rub your cum into my skin and let that scent haunt me. Wanna smell like you—”
