Between Heaven and Rock (The Swallow Barn Cottage Series, Book 3)

Ulla and Oliver in a Car

And 3 out of 3. Don't miss the previous two chapters of today's triple update.

Love,

K. xx

***

Ulla groaned and dropped her head on the driver's wheel.

"Not good," Oliver deadpanned, and she glared at him sideways, without lifting her forehead off the wheel.

"You think? We're stuck, Oliver!" She raised her head and pointed at the windscreen. "And at the exact same spot I got stuck the very first day! What's it called, that house there? Ainsley something."

"Ainsley Manor, yes," he said. "It's empty right now. The Americans who live there leave for the Winter. It's alright, it's just a twenty minute walk back to the cottage," he said in a comforting tone.

"Firstly, I know exactly how long this walk will be," Ulla grumbled. "And secondly, once again, I'm not dressed for it. Ugh! We should've stayed in and eaten cereal for supper. Now, Frank Harris will once again have to tow me, and it'll once again take three days to deal with this!" She knew she was being stroppy and narky, and it wasn't his fault, and she didn't actually regret going to the pub earlier - but she properly didn't want to plod through all this snow and get soaked again!

She looked in the back seat, wondering if she had a hat and gloves lying around somewhere. At least she was wearing a warm jacket. On the other hand, she once again had her ankle boots on. They'd fill with snow in no time. Also, since she wanted to show off her backside and her pins to him - let's not pretend it wasn't happening every morning when she was getting ready to come to see him! - she'd stuffed herself into her tightest, thinnest jeans. Her jumper was skin-tight as well, black and thin - for the exactly same reason. She'd be shaking, her teeth chattering, after two minutes outside. Bugger. 

"And how am I supposed to get back to the city now?" she exclaimed in a dischuffed voice.

"I don't think you're going back to the city tonight," he said in a low voice.

"Obviously I'm not!" she scoffed. "The car's stuck!"

"Ulla," he said, and she stopped her annoyed muttering and looked at him. His eyes were shiny. "You aren't going back to the city tonight, because you're staying in my bed."

Ulla sat up straighter and gave him a confused look. He returned it with his usual mellow expression on his face. Damn his impenetrable facade! She felt suddenly taken aback.

"It's not exactly a choice, Oliver," she jeered. "There's only one bed, and after we drag our sorry arses through all this snow for twenty minutes, I am staying in your bed, with you or without you in it." His lips twitched, and she felt even more annoyed. "It's not funny, Oliver! And there will be all this daft tension again, and we'd copped off in said bed just a few hours ago, and– blagh!" She made an irritated noise in her throat. "Talk about uncomfortable!"

"I don't think there will be much tension in the bed," he said just as calmly.

"Oh really? Why is that?" she bit back.

You know you're giving him a line, right, Ulla? Maybe, he's going to say, he's over it. Maybe, he'll once again treat copping off with you as a mistake. Maybe, he properly doesn't mind. And even if he does, he has this inhuman self-control, and he can just go to sleep, while you'll be in agony all night, because you bloody fancy the bloke! And you might be a bit in love with him - and also you're bloody tired of fantasizing about him five times before bedtime, and never feeling it's enough!

"Because I think we're going to have our first time in this car," he said.

Ulla's noggin suddenly filled with some barmy high-pitched noise, and she slowly turned and looked at him.

"Our first–" she asked. "Wait– what?"

"I think," he said slowly and shifted closer to her on his seat, "that we're going to shag in this car. Right now."

His face was right in front of her now, and she swallowed a painful knot in her throat.

OK, you should say something, Ulla. React in one way or another. Tell him he's a self-assured prick. And shouldn't he ask first? Also, there's no protection in this car. Oh wait, no, there is. There are a couple of condoms in your handbag. Old habits die hard, and so on. Oh, 'hard.' Wait– what?!

"Wait– what?" she rasped out. He gave her a warm look over, and she saw the corners of his lips curl up. "Where did this come from?" she asked, feeling completely confused.

God, he's so beautiful... And hot. So hot! Also, he's smirking now, and there's this hungry, predatory expression in his eyes.  It's like they're burning - just as they describe in those daft romance novels you mocked so much, Ulla! And he doesn't look like a 'naive sheltered choirboy,' and he's just licked his lips! Oh my...

"Is that a 'yes?'" he murmured and leaned even closer.

Of course that's a 'yes,' but– what? Ulla held her breath and stared at his mouth. God, so sexy! This full bottom lip, and the curved upper one! The perfect Cupid's bow!

"Yes, but– You're– And we're–" Do you even know what you're trying to say? "But why?!" she cried out, and he cupped her face.

Oh, his warm large hands!

"Because I fucking can't wait anymore," he growled and kissed her.

***

His hands were sliding up along her spine, his large palms almost covering her whole back, and she moaned loudly. Their jackets and jumpers had already been taken off and thrown aside, and she'd unbuckled his belt, and opened the buttons on his jeans - and she still couldn't believe it was happening!

She leaned back, her fingers in his hair, on the back of his head, fisted around handfuls of his curls, and stared at his face. His eyes were darker than usual, and she saw his flushed cheekbones, and swollen lips. Oh god, Ulla's a goner. At some point, after she'd climbed on top of him, straddled him, and was kissing his neck, he'd batted his hand on the side of his seat, pressed the lever, and forcefully kicked off the glove box, making his seat slide back. The bloke was going hard, once he got started, wasn't he? His hands were groping her backside, and he dove in and caught her earlobe between his teeth. Ulla made a surprised 'oomph' sound and ground her hips into him. Seriously, their trousers need to go!

"I've never done it in a front seat," she muttered, pushing her hands up his torso, bunching up his tee.

He lifted his arms, and she pulled the shirt off. God, she properly needed to spend more time on his chest! Next time! He caught her mouth, and she felt him hook his fingers on the waist of her trousers - and her pants knickers as well. Oh wow.

"We'll manage," he murmured.

Ulla wanted to give him a sarcastic look, but she was too busy panting and trying to calculate the mechanics of taking his denim off. Suddenly, he gave her backside a juicy slap.

"Arse up!" he ordered, and Ulla sharply rose on her knees.

He pulled, and wiggled - and she understood, and helped, and they yanked one trouser leg off, pulling her pants off one leg as well. He then took care of the same items on himself, he after all only needed to push them down to his knees. Ulla plopped down - and groaned from the contact with his hot skin.

"Ulla," he whispered, and she froze, staring in his eyes.

"I'm–" she exhaled, and then kissed him, and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing into him desperately. "God, Oli..."

His hands were stroking her back, under her bralette, and she whined, and moved, and jerked it off. He was kissing that sensitive muscle between her neck and her shoulder, and she squeezed her eyes.

"Oli..." She couldn't even remember how people spoke. "Please..."

One of his hands was suddenly gone from her side, and she made an unhappy noise. Something clicked, and the back of his seat went crashing down. He stretched, squeezing her hips, keeping her from shifting too much on him, and she purred from the new angle, and how much more of him she now had access to. Their eyes met, and he gave her a tender smile.

"Ulla..."