Page 62 of Ly to Me
I pursed my lips. “Or, what?” My back pressed roughly against the hood of the truck, and the hold he had on my wrist shifted to cup my pussy. I sealed my lips together, trying to hide the way his touch heightened every single one of my senses, pleasure already firing-up between my legs.
“I’ll take you back home and treat you like the bad girl you really are. Is that what you want?” His thumb pressed through my lace thong, massaging my clit with delicious precision.
“You’re going to do it, anyway.” My words should have been vicious, but came out on a moan.
Car’s rough hands scraped against my throat as he yanked me closer, his voice raspy as he said, “Or I could fuck you in the truck like the first time.” My breath hitched, and he chuckled. “Ly, Ly, Ly.” He reared back. “I knew you remembered.”
He released me and stepped back, leaving my shaky legs to fend for themselves. “I’m not getting in—” My words hung in the air as he flung me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes—or, like Santa’s sack of presents because my skin had turned beet red all over again as if my body wanted to be his personal form of Christmas. The passenger door flew open, and he smacked my ass before setting me on the seat.
“Rude.” I immediately flipped the visor down and adjusted my hair, ignoring the brute laughter of the man who soaked my panties with every single move he made. And the last time I sat in this truck under those conditions was a night I’d never be able to forget, not even if I tried.
TEN YEARS AGO
It had been silent in the truck after Carver asked me to prom. Not awkwardly, but…I could see him doing that thing where his focus intensified and his whole body went tense. He was thinking about something, so I let myself think about how I was going to afford a dress nice enough to go to prom with him.
When we met, I wasn’t completely oblivious to where he stood on the high school social hierarchy. I didn’t remember his name, but I knew he was someone relatively important. Seeing him at a party—the ease he had around people like everyone would accept him no matter what he did—showed me how vastly different we were.
The only time I gave a damn about being different from him in that aspect was when Noah mentioned going to prom. I’d never considered being asked, let alone going with one of the most popular guys in school.
My palms grew sweaty as I stared out the window. When my foot started tapping, Car slid his hand over my thigh, stilling me. Calming me, like his breathing had done for him.
“You okay? Is the weed bothering you?”
“No, actually. I—” My eyes fell to his pocket. “Do you have more of that?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“I think I kind of liked it.” I squeezed my hands into fists, trying to expel the jittery sensations. “A lot, actually. It made me feel…good.”
“I get that.” Carver chuckled. “I’m the same way. Didn’t know how bad my nerves were until I started smoking.”
“When was that?”
“Let’s see…” His fingers drummed on the steering wheel. “Three years ago? It was around the time I met Jared. We kind of got into it together.”
A giggle escaped as I pictured Jared’s knowing grin when we left. “I can picture that.”
Car squeezed my thigh. “I like that you and him got along so easily right off the bat.”
“We barely talked,” I said pointedly.
“No, but you were in our circle. It’s more of a feeling than anything at that point.”
I nodded as understanding washed over me. “Yeah, I actually kind of get that. I felt comfortable there. I didn’t really want to leave until Noah showed up.”
“I was ready to leave when I saw you in that dress.”
My cheeks warmed. “That was before the party.”
“I just prefer to have you all to myself sometimes.”
“Most times, it seems.”
He smirked. “Is that a problem?”
“No.” I played with the tips of his fingers, lifting them one by one as his thumb rubbed circles on my skin. “Do you have to take me home now?”
His smirk widened into a grin. “No. Do you have somewhere in mind?” I shook my head. “Do you want to smoke a little more wherever I take you?”
