Page 36 of I See Red

Pulling off West Bailey Street, I follow the road down to our underground garage, entering my code.

36-63-363-636. Releasing a breath, I feel so fucking anxious as I wait for the doors to fully open. I creep in just enough for thegate to shut, signaling the lights to turn on. One by one, row by row, they flash on, my heartbeat rising with the illumination of each row as I creep further in, waiting for something to present itself. Someone. Her. Row twenty flashes, and there she is.Fuck.I can’t quite make out everything. Her silhouette glistens in the shadows making my dick happy to be here. Goddamn, she’s naked, with a large red bow resting across her breasts hiding them from me.There’s no fucking way.Releasing the clutch while slowly pressing the gas, I work my way to her at a snail’s pace riding first. Stopping directly in front of her, my headlights illuminate her soft, perfectly olive skin, revealing one of my childhood dreams resting behind my first—her and the otherher. Rosaline. I’m not sure which turns me on more, her or the fucking car, but the combination of the two is certainly doing it for me. Turning the car off, I adjust my dick through my pants, stepping out. Latching my blazer in the middle, my hands find warmth in my pockets as I round the door, leaving it open, stopping to take in all my view has to offer. Goddamn, little flame.

“Oak green metallic?” I question assertively as if I’m the buyer and she’s the saleswoman.

“That’s what the invoice says,” she boasts, a grin so wide across her face. Her confidence making it hard not to break character.

Her eyes lock me in as my feet shuffle towards her like she has a magnetic pull on me. When I’m around her, I lose all control of my own motions. Reaching her, my eyes trail down her legs, examining exactly where the red of the heels break right at the side of her ankle. My hand brushes up her thigh, light as a feather making her skin quiver beneath my palm, goosebumps arising as my fingers trail off.

“Cognac interior with devia-?” My breath lighter than before. She breaks her silence, the vibrations relinquishing from her throat, overpowering me as she cuts me off.

“Deviated green stitching with carbon and magnesium accents. Also, I must add,” she pauses, her eyes finding mine with sarcasm on her tongue, “a removable steering wheel.” Sexual desire alive and well in her physique, her fingers grasping my tie, deviously straightening it.

“They don’t do that?”

“They do for me; anything else, sir?” she gloats, her head whipping toward me, taunting me as I watch her tongue slide across her lips, tracing the beautiful red lines painted on them. I lace my fingers through her hair, my grasp forcefully pulling her head back, exposing her neck to my lips as my words brush across her skin.

“These cars take a minimum of two years to commission. We made that bet weeks ago.”

“They must really like me then, huh?” She toys with me, a chuckle escaping her, and I can’t help but smile. I don’t know how she did this. Yes, she has pull, but even I couldn’t pull this off, and I move some pretty unmanageable fucking mountains every day.

“Seriously, how?” I demand.

“I give great head.”

Wrong fucking answer.

“You’ll pay for that later, little flame,” I bite, releasing her head from my grip forcefully.

“Oh, I’m fucking betting on it.” The sound of her heels clicking against the concrete floor with each step as she makes her way towards the back of the car, her fingers gliding across the paint, her eyes transferring back and forth between the car and myself.

I watch on, unable to maintain a constant connection with hers, losing focus as they drift down the curve of her back. I’ve always loved the curve of a woman’s back, but hers is like none I’ve ever seen; maybe because I find everything about her body sexier than any other woman. It has character; It’s deep and strong, the indent a procession leading me down, ending at her perfectly plump ass, firm enough to please, yet natural in its bounce. My dick twitches as her ass recoils with each step. Making her way around the rear end of the car, reaching the driver’s side door, she pauses her motions, halting completely. Her hand slides behind her, reaching between her shoulder blades, and within seconds, the bow covering her tits drops to the floor. I breathe her in momentarily, nothing but our breaths circulating around us—if I’m even fucking breathing. I’m not even sure I exist as I drink in all this woman is. Opening the door, she begins her demands, and in an instant, I am pulled from all the vile thoughts of all I want to do to her. Snapping me back into our reality.

“You were in control last time; get in.” Her tone sinister, her body relaxed, in her zone, and I am her fucking prisoner.Fuck, I’d love nothing more than to bend her over this car and fuck her right now, but something tells me she has other plans, and I’m pining to fucking experience every fucking second of it. I do as she asks, my shoulder brushing against hers as I pass behind her, positioning myself in the driver’s seat. I never knew there could be a moment in time where I would probably do anything requested of me just to get a little relief, but here I am at her fucking disposal, weak, my cock fucking famished. I look around the car, my hand running across all the accents, my knuckles gliding onto the wheel, grasping tighter and tighter until I’m white-knuckling it and I’m going 130 down the road, childhood me looking back at me smiling from the passenger seat, nothing but the wind and the open road. Instantaneously, I’m snappedfrom my thoughts, as the seat slides back aggressively, zoning in on her, my view causing the entire car to melt away piece by piece. Her blonde hair lays just off her shoulder, the ends falling somewhere behind her back, her tits firm and awake with nothing but the air encasing them. The vault temperatures make them sharp and eager to be touched. She holds her position bent over in front of me. Her ass to my left, just right outside the door, when she reaches over to the passenger seat, grabbing something—a set of keys dangling from her perfectly manicured red nails in front of me.

“You’re going to need these, and you’ll know exactly when.”

I reach in to kiss her as I take the keys, but she shoves me into the back of the seat, denying me all I need and crave of her.

“My turn, remember?” she reiterates, her devilish chuckle filling the car.

Fuck me, little flame.

Grabbing my hands, she places them behind my head before turning to the wheel. Releasing it from the dash, she tosses it onto the passenger floorboard.

“Mmmmmm,” I snarl at the view of her ass in front of me.

Sliding one leg across, she straddles me, her hands sliding up my chest, straightening my tie, securing it at my collar, using it as leverage to pull me into her. Her lips crash into mine, the scent of her filling me, her lips that of mango and lemonade, reminding me of shaved ice on a hot summer day, and I can’t wait to drink every last drop of syrup from the bottom.

“Have you been a good little flame keeper?” she questions me.

“Yes, little flame.”

“Are you sure?”

“One thousand percent, unless I’m missing something.”

“Good fucking boy.”

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