Page 60 of Finding Fate
He grins wider. What is going on?! “Which is why you’re still occupying my time.”
“I don’t even know what that means.”
“I’m not bored yet.”
Which is why I need to go. Leave a little mystery in my wake. Maybe then my number will actually get used. If I were being honest about that little tug in my chest, I might even miss him a little. “Well, are you ready to drop me off now? You have my number. The ball is in your court. Text it, trash it, whatever. It’s been fun. Back to the high school grind for me until Thanksgiving break.”
I lean over to give him a bye hug and suddenly I’m being pulled over the console like a lightweight item, my purse and phone crashing to the floorboard before my knees hit the seat, barely any room on each side of him. He jerks his shirt off and tosses it on the console. “No. I want one for the road,” he says, pulling my cap off and down my ponytail. “You look hot in a ball cap.”
My stomach flutters with nerves from the compliment while his hands rub up my sides as he bares my stomach to take my shirt off. He has a roughness to his hands I’ve never felt from a guy. My skin pebbles beneath them. I like it.
Our lips meet, and the second we’re sealed together at the mouth everything becomes hormonal. My bra comes off. In under a second he’s got his hands on my breasts, kneading and massaging with plenty left over. I still find it odd how I can touch my own boobs like that and feel nothing, yet he can do it and my panties instantly become wet.
I pull at his lip, my acrylic nails raking across his shoulders, the cab already filling with expanding heat and the windows are starting to fog. “What if airport security rides by? Pretty sure this is illegal in some way. At least public indecency.”
His mouth comes down on mine again, his tongue delving inside me. He pulls back and I hear his zipper. That is the hottest sound and I have no idea why. He reaches back and grabs one hand, lowering it to form a cuff around his dick since his size keeps my fingers from meeting by a good bit, his hand on top of mine while he starts to stroke himself with my hand. “Then there’s the fact that you’re only seventeen. I’m twenty-four,” he adds, his other hand already gripped on the back of my neck and pulling me in.
“Makes things more fun,” I tell him, just before our lips meet again. Out of all the guys I’ve kissed, he does it the best. I don’t know if it’s his age or his experience or just the combination of us together, but we glide together so effortlessly, creating an experience that leaves me panting and wanting more each time one of us pulls away.
It doesn’t take long of him guiding my hand in an up and down motion before I catch on to how he likes it—firm and fast. His hand pulls off of mine, leaving me to stroke him myself, and without breaking from the kiss both come to my lower back and push underneath the waistband of my leggings, each gripping a handful of cheek, his short nails digging in.
Feeling so much hardness as my hand pumps up and down on it makes me want it inside me more than anything, causing me to rub my center against him, needing friction between my legs. A throaty moan comes out of me as I kiss and rub on him. He squeezes my plush bottom, as if he likes the handfuls, and finally pulls back, breathing heavy. “Turn around.”
Thankfully he has long legs and the seat is already back, allowing me more room between him and the steering wheel to do so. Putting both feet on the floor I turn around. He jerks my tight pants over my bottom to my knees, baring me for access and already pulling me back by the waist. I grab the door and the console for balance, and within seconds and a few swipes of his head against me to wet the tip he’s sinking inside. It’s a full feeling that I’ve come to like.
I’m not sure how I’m supposed to easily do this with my leggings keeping my legs mostly together, but I push off the doorframe and the console so that I’m not flush with his thighs, and then use my stomach muscles to do the rest.
One hand goes for a breast while the other glides down my front, making sure to brush over my belly button ring, lingering as his fingers play with it, which is something he has done every time we’ve had sex, as if he likes the aquamarine stones on each end of the bar in the white gold setting. I don’t change it out often, but when I do, I buy quality rings and keep them in my jewelry armoire just like the rest of my jewelry. So far, this color against my tan skin is my favorite.
He continues downward until his finger pad is pressing between my lips, instantly circling over my clit. My head falls back against his shoulder, eyes closed, my pelvis trying to chase it for closeness. It feels too good with him inside me.
He turns his head toward me some, his lips grazing over my cheek. He’s roughhousing with my chest, both nipples erect and taking turns getting pulled between his fingers. “That pussy of yours is going to miss this, isn’t it?”
I love the way he talks when his breathing is labored, confirming he’s not as put together on the inside when we do this as he appears on the outside. “No more than your dick will. Deny it all you want. You like that you’re my first, don’t you?”
“I never denied it.”
My heart races over his admission. My arms are starting to get tired from being in one position with weight on them, but I’m so close to getting off I don’t want to move and lose it. He speeds up, and within seconds my eyes close as all the blood pools in a central place and the stimulation blissfully numbs me for many moments, making me hyper aware of everything. “Shit. This feels so much better when you do it.”
The feeling fades and there is no resting phase before his hand moves from between my legs to the opposite hip, getting a good grip, and then he starts bouncing me on top of him as fast as he can. “I like watching you come,” he says, his voice thicker than usual. “Now you’re going to make me.”
I twist and grab the back of his neck, turning my head back to lock my lips with his, both of us panting and not able to hold back the many sounds coming from somewhere deep as my bottom slaps against his lap. He bucks upward and holds it, his mouth opening on a deep rumbling groan and interrupting the little dance our lips were doing. “Fuck it feels good to nut in warmth.”
He lowers back down to the seat and wraps around me like a bear. It’s nice to be held this way. “Your new thing I’m guessing?”
He roughly pulls back on my ponytail over the loaded question, causing it to pull at my roots and hurt. “Ouch.”
“That’s a me and you thing, not a me and some slut thing. I got your virginity and you got me bare and loaded—an exchange of firsts. It was only fair.”
And now we have to say goodbye. It’s a chilling thought in the middle of so much heat. The sooner I get it over with the faster I can put it behind me in my vault of damn good memories.
He’s so close like this, like we’ve both set down the masks we wear for other people. This truck feels like a safe space, where we can be different without someone’s prying eyes judging us. We can be real. I look in his eyes. “I really need to go before I end up missing my flight.”
Instead of saying something back, he starts working my pants back up my legs, and when they hit my upper thighs, he holds me off him to pull them to my waist. I turn around and straddle him as I finish dressing. His pants are already pulled up to their normal position and refastened. “What do you want me to tell Presley?”
I shrug, trying to prepare for a lie, but something overcomes me, and for once in my life I just want to be truthful. He doesn’t know me back home. “I don’t care as long as it hurts her like she’s hurt me.”
And without acknowledging his stare, I move back to the passenger side to gather my things. Oddly, I feel a little lighter. Too bad it won’t last.