“STOP HERE.” Vee points at a gas station.
Without question, I flick the indicator, certain she needs something from the shop. That thought dies a quick death. The place is shut, and Vee unbuckles her seatbelt, turning to face me.
“Thank you. I had a lot of fun tonight.”
My eyebrows knot in the middle. There’s no trailer in sight. “This isn’t where you live. Vee, I—”
“It’s not far from here,” she cuts in. “Less than five minutes. I’ll be fine.”
“You’re not walking. It’s late. It’s dark. What the fuck will your dad think if you come home from a date at this time, and I’m not the one who took you home?” I flip the lock so she can’t get out, my blood frothing. “Why are you so embarrassed about where you live? I don’t fucking care, Vee. How many times do I have to tell you?”
“I know, but—”
“No buts,” I cut in, growing tired of this. “Give me one good reason you don’t want me to know where you live.”
She bites her bottom lip, eyes unfocused.
Fucking tease…
I lean across the middle console, pulling her lip free. “That’s my job.” Curling my fingers around her neck, I pull her in for a kiss, desire searing through me.
“My dad can’t see you,” she admits with a heavy, defeated sigh as she pulls back a little.
“What? Why?”
Toying with her fingers, she mutters something incomprehensible. Not audible enough to make out this time. I catch a few out-of-context words that make no fucking sense, but my brain whirs, connecting the dots, looking for meaning.
It’s a lesson in deciphering code.
“Vee,” I urge, sweeping my knuckles down the side of her face to grab her attention. “Why can’t your dad see me?”
“He doesn’t like you.”
“What?” I fall back against my seat. “He doesn’t know me.”
“No, he doesn’t, but you’re—” She swallows hard, eyes rigidly ahead. “You’re a Hayes. My dad doesn’t like your dad. Doesn’t like your whole family. We lied to him about Rose’s piano lessons because he went ballistic when he found out Rose wanted Mia to teach her. I’ve never seen him so angry. Now he thinks some old guy’s teaching her.”
Okay, that I didn’t expect.
My father’s been part of the Newport scene all his life, a mayor for years now, his second term running out in a few months. All I’ve heard over the years from people is how much good he’s done. How fucking great he is and how much people love having him as mayor.
Vee’s dad is the first person I know about who doesn’t like him. It’s just plain bizarre because as tough as my father is sometimes, he’s a golden retriever inside. Always helpful. Always available.
My mother’s done amazing things for people over the years, supporting soup kitchens and women’s shelters, donating to the hospital, and funding a brand-new maternity ward…
“I don’t know what your dad’s problem is with my dad,” I admit, poison infecting my voice.
It’s fucking offensive he doesn’t like my dad. The guy who slaves to make this town a better place, who cares about everyone regardless where they’re from or how much they own.
“Me neither,” Vee says warily. “He says your dad only looks after the elite. Everyone knows that’s not true, so my only explanation is an old-time grudge. Maybe they fell out at school or something. I think it’s more personal than Dad lets on, but… I know he won’t like seeing you.”
I want to say I don’t give a fuck, but while that’s true, there’s also one problem. I won’t be the one listening to him rant.
“Whatever the reason, I’m not my father, Little Bee. Sooner or later, your dad will have to accept that. You can’t hide me forever. While I’d like to meet him tonight, I’m sure you’d rather prepare him for the news.”
She nods, a glint of appreciation in her eyes.
“But I’m still not letting you walk.” I start the engine. “Lead the way. Get me as close as possible without risking your dad spotting my car.”
She bites her lip, making me groan. I stretch across, replacing her teeth with mine. “Every time you bite, I bite,” I say, glancing at the dashboard. “We still have fifteen minutes.”
I drag her onto my lap, pulling her sneakers off in the process. She straddles me, her knees dig into the upholstery on either side of my thighs. It’s a tight fit, but it works.
A bit too well, actually.
Her hot pussy settles over my rigid cock, just three thin layers separating our skin. Her panties, my jeans, and my boxers.
Not much, and my cock fucking feels it, jutting against her, summoned by the inferno pulsing between her thighs.
Sweet torture amplified tenfold when her body trembles as I grip her hips, fisting her dress.
She takes charge.
Or tries, at least, but I’m in control as our lips touch.
I take her mouth like I want to take her. The kiss deep, hard, bordering on feral. She’s so fucking eager, her tongue dancing with mine. For a second, I think she’ll push me away as she raises her hands, but instead, she traces the ripple of muscles down my abdomen and keeps exploring, gently gripping my pecs and biceps before weaving fingers in my hair.
She drags me closer to her. Hungry for more. The sweet, musky scent of her arousal perfumes the compact space. Tampers with my sense of right and wrong.
I want her.
I want everything she’ll give me. Sounds, touches, pure ecstasy shining from those silver eyes.
Her chest rises faster the deeper I kiss. I move my lips to her neck, biting, teasing, sucking the soft flesh, and her body fucking sings.
Pleads with the first circle of her hips against me.
Begs with the second.
Demands with the third.
“Ambulance thought,” she pants, arching back and giving me better access to her throat. “No more dates.”
Fucking finally. “Say the words, Little Bee.”
She tugs my hair, drawing me in as my lips smudge a line from her shoulder to her ear. “We’re dating.”
“Different words.”
“I’m yours.”
“You’ve been mine since I met you. Different words, Vee.” I take her mouth again, stoking the fire, working her up until she moans, her body running on instinct as she grinds into me harder. “I know what you want, baby, but I want a yes.”
She stops moving. Her eyes pop open, sheer surprise shining through like she hasn’t fully been here or can’t believe I want audible consent.
I do. Since she told me how her mind works, I’ve paid extra attention to her quiet mutterings. I started coaxing clear answers to all my questions.
Her cheeks are warm, pink, lips swollen from our kisses, pupils blown, and I’ve never seen a woman so effortlessly hot.
“No traffic jams,” I tut against the soft spot below her ear. “Don’t get out of the moment, baby. Don’t overthink.” Moving my hands to her waist, I thrust my hips once, checking her reaction.
A little tremor passes through her. Eyes hood over.
“I love the look on you right now. I’ll give you everything you’ll ask for.” I thrust upward again. “I’m pretty damn sure you want me to make you feel good, but pretty damn sure isn’t enough. I just need a yes.” More kisses: lower, along her jaw and down her chin. “I need you to be sure because once I see you coming undone, I’ll want more. So much more.”
Her fingers gouge into my nape when I shift my hips next. A soft moan slips out, and she gives into the need crushing her like an avalanche. It’s fucking palpable.
“Yes,” she breathes, resting her forehead against mine. “Please.”
“If I slide my hand up your skirt, will I find your pussy dripping wet for me?”
Another shudder shakes her gently. “Yes.”
I grip her knee and her neck, closing her lips with a kiss while my other hand travels higher. My pulse triphammers in my ears.
The windows start misting over, giving us privacy. Not that I’d care if anyone driving by guessed what we’re doing. My focus is solely on Vivienne.
My needy, horny Bee working herself over my cock. I gently brush the smooth, damp fabric of her panties, and she whimpers at the touch, her cheek against mine, lips parting by my ear.
“So needy,” I say, my tone dripping with delight. “So fucking perfect.” I keep touching the damp fabric, drifting my fingers up and down, loving how her hips arch into my touch. “Good. Always show me how much you need me.”
The electric shudder thrashing through Vee hits me head-on when I feel how warm and wet she is, aching for release.
I close my fingers around her throat, gently for now. We’ll get to the kinkier stuff later. I press a button on my seat, sliding it back as far as it’ll go, increasing the pressure on Vee’s neck until her shoulder blades hit the steering wheel. Her legs are bent, feet either sides of my thighs, hands braced against the door and middle console.
‘Wrong. So wrong. This won’t work.’
