#byed

Both lying on his couch, half of you draped over his still fireproof suit-clad body, you were lazily running your nails on the nape of his neck and even threading your fingers through his short hair. Mick was anxious, but a good kind of edgy, more relieved after all the stress, but he was happy with the fact that he had you around to pamper him. The truth was, he missed you like crazy.

So when his hands tightened around you and his lips found yours in a heated kiss, you were not even slightly surprised. He surprised you though when he moved his body to have more access to you and pushed your dress higher exposing your thighs and panties.

“Mick,” you breathe, trying to catch up with both: the fact that he doesn’t usually make out like this outside your house especially not at his driver's room where god knows anyone could walk in, and the fact that his kisses were hungry, taking everything he could. Curious, but precise, hands wandering around your torso, or legs.

“I just- missed you so much, and I am so relieved I got a good start for tomorrow,” he mumbles against your neck, lips biting and kissing your flesh and consequently getting a whimper out of you.

He hardens against your tighs when he hears and feels how your body answers to his. It’s just a beat before his lips find yours in another kiss, and his fingers brush against the inside of your legs nudging them apart and fitting his body there. You moan when your most intimate parts brush together and Mick swallows it grunting and smashing your bodies even closer.

“Fuck, Micky, you’re making me horny,” you hiss, grinding your pussy against his hard cock, still covered by his race suit.

Schumacher smirked against your lips, biting your chin and kissing your jaw, his hands starting a path to your chest, he was well aware of how hard your nipples were against the fabric of your dress, however when he was almost there, finally on the verge of throwing everything throw the window and fucking you on his driver's room couch, someone knocked on the door.

“Media duty again in 15, Mick!! We will be waiting.”

“Scheiße,” he cursed, dropping part of his weight deliciously on top of you.

You giggled, bringing his body closer and hugging him.

“Guess we won’t be able to tick driver's room from the crazy-places-to-have-sex list just yet,” you joke.

“Well, we still have 15 minutes,” Mick grins suggestively.