A/N A little bit of escapism. I've read a lot of fics lately and I know that this has been influenced by a lot of them. Thank you to all the wonderful writers who have inspired me.

The leather is soft against my skin; I slide against it like butter on a hot knife – slick with sweat. My hair is tangled and knotted. The twisting of my head against the seat has loosened it from the tie that held it. I can feel strands sticking to my neck, working their way into my mouth, brushing against my heavy lashes.

The air is close and thick with desire; a pungent salty smell that clings to the back of my throat. Trembling, I slide my hand down to my left and locate the small plastic lever, yanking it upwards. I fall backwards and he lands heavily against me. I can feel his smile as he returns to my lips.

His lips on mine. Soft, full, demanding. They work on me - alternately careful, loving and rough, possessive. They tell me a story; one of want, love and desire. Brushing gentle, small kisses – bursts of heat – I feel lightheaded. Now they are harder, more urgent. Soft pressing against soft, turning, churning, nipping my mouth.

Warm heat enters my mouth; his tongue, his skilful tongue. It swirls and bends against mine, pushing me into submission. The sharp bones of his hips are pressing me further and further into the seat, I can feel the hardness growing in his jeans. It's rubbing up against my groin. Instinctively I buck my hips up towards his and shudder when I feel the contact. He moans softly into my mouth.

He bites my lip, a little harder than is comfortable. He rolls it between his teeth as he pulls back. My eyes flash open. Our eyes meet; wide, dark, stormy browns skate over my face, before his hands grasp it between them, his thumbs pressing against my cheeks. For a minute we wait. I lie still as our breathing comes together, he purses his lips.

I am caught mid breath as he lunges for my neck, using his thumbs to press under my jaw, tilting my head back. Instinctively I kick out my legs – one knee hits the parking break hard, it's going to cause a bruise but I don't care. His hips are beginning to rock against me, his whole body is moving in a rolling action, like the waves of the ocean crashing to shore.

My hands jump to my chest and fumble with the buttons that block access to more skin –I want his lips everywhere, now. In my impatience I feel one come loose and tumble to the floor. I don't care. He understands what I want, he slips downwards and I feel a nipping sensation as he gently bites against the skin of my breasts.

"Fuck."

Large, solid hands find their way under my shirt and slide up towards my bra. I feel another button pop open, then one more. His kisses move again to my neck, I shiver as his breath cools the moisture trail he leaves. Suddenly his hands are in my bra, grabbing my breasts roughly, like he wants to own them. He groans again as I yelp in shock, before I push my chest forward into his touch. I want him to have all of me, take all of me, use all of me.

Pushing my hand between us, I reach into his heavy denim jeans, just managing to slide past that damn belt he always wears. Thank God my hands are small. My fingers slip straight into his boxers and find his hard, throbbing erection. His hands briefly leave my body to undo the belt and I have freedom: much better.

It's a strange mix of hard, and soft and hot. I rub my thumb over its slightly sticky tip before curling my fingers around the length, grasping tightly as I begin to rock my hand back and forth. The tip is bulging and I have to loosen my grip a little when I reach it. I can feel the dampness in my underwear growing. My breath grows shorter.

I feel a tugging. He's pulling on my skirt. Suddenly I feel self-conscious. I hope no one can see us. But I don't care enough to make him stop. No, keep going. I tell him with my body, lifting my hips so he can pull down my panties, they slip down to my ankles and I kick them off into the foot well.

He's biting again. This time the point where my neck meets my shoulder.

Rough skin meets the soft skin of my thighs, scratching a little. I hold my breath as his fingers tease me. Stroking the gap between folds of skin, working their way deeper and deeper. I bite my lip to keep from screaming out. I'm still stroking his cock, a steady pace.

Impatient, I tilt my hips upwards and a finger slides into me. Then another. My eyes roll back. I press my legs together a little, locking his hand in place.

It's suddenly very hot. I'm vaguely aware that the windows are damp and foggy. I push my free hand into the back of his pants and grab his ass. I dig my fingers into the thick flesh. My nails are sharp, I feel him flinch.

He's kissing me again. His fingers are slipping in an out of my dampness, they are curved in a beckoning gesture. Damn he knows where I want to be touched, how I need to be touched.

My stomach flutters; it's like something expanding low in my abdomen. Growing, out of my control. My hips are moving on their own now. My hand is making quicker strokes. He's struggling to keep kissing me, I can tell by his ragged breath. He does continue, but the determined rhythm of before is gone. It's sloppy, messy, hot.

I can hear moaning. I realise it's me. I'm close, soo close.

And then I'm gone. Spinning. I open my eyes but all I see is black, punctuated by pinpricks of light that grow and throb. My body stiffens as he rubs his thumb against my clit, making the waves last that little while longer. It's over too soon. I mew a little, wanting more.

My hand had paused as I slipped away for a moment, but I'm back and I'm working hard. I take my other hand, grabbing his hair and push his head to mine. This time it's definitely me kissing him. I'm in charge. Harder and harder I go.

Then he gasps, tenses up, "Damnit Jess," he whispers into my ears as he shudders. I feel the sticky warmth on my stomach but I keep going. This is lasting a while –I feel a little smug. I did this.

His forehead comes to a rest on my shoulder as he breathes deeply. He quickly kisses my cheek. Next, he is sliding over to the driver's seat. Pulling up his pants, buttoning his shirt. I open the glove box and pull out the packet of tissues I keep in there. I clean myself up before straightening my clothes.

For a few seconds we are silent. Basking in the afterglow. But then he turns and I turn and we are looking at each other. He smiles that goofy goddamn smile that drives me crazy. I laugh a little. He reaches over and kisses me again.

"You're amazing."

I blush.

"I love you," I tell him.