Page 9 of Car Wash
“It’s good I have you to watch over me, isn’t it?” she says with a little smile.
“I only wish I'd been able to prevent it from happening at all.”
My jaw ticks as I think back to how angry I was. Part of my body is still holding onto that feeling—I can still feel his rough shirt imprinted in my hand when I grabbed it. The impact when I threw him against the nearest vertical object.
But now, that anger is softening. Fast.
Ten minutes ago, I was ready to break someone’s jaw for messing with her. Now I’m dealing with a whole new kind of crisis: the way she’s making it impossible to think straight.
Her pink lips press into a line and she drags her teeth against her bottom lip.
“I’ll be right back,” she says, slipping out of the car and letting the door shut behind her.
I can’t help the way I look at her as she walks up the path of stones to her front door. She’s the sexiest fucking creature on earth. She looks like someone threw an angel into a fountain and told her to come out dripping.
What does that make me?
Frozen. Still. Hard as marble. Paralyzed, trying to shut down my feelings like I should’ve shut down that stupid fucking car wash as soon as I got there.
This is my best friend’s young, sweet daughter. The only thing I should care about is keeping her safe. I certainly shouldn’t be thinking about storming after her and throwing her against a wall.
I exhale and drag a hand over my face, opening the door and stepping out into the heat. Sun bakes the metal, radiates off the pavement. I lean against the car. Cross my arms. Try to stop thinking about the way that wet fabric clung to her.
Get it together.
But then she steps out and I swear the air changes.
Shorts again. A different pair—shorter somehow, frayed at the edges and hugging her hips like they were sewn onto her body. Tank top this time—white, thin, low enough that I catch a glimpse of her back as she pulls the door shut behind her.
She tosses my shirt at me as she walks past. “Thanks,” she says, flashing a glance over her shoulder.
I catch it one-handed, trying like hell not to stare at her sweet little tits as they bounce with every carefree, innocent step she takes. My cock gets hard as I grip the shirt that now smells like her. I open the door for her and she passes me, smelling like sugar and lemon.
“So,” she says, tucking her still-damp hair behind her ears as I step into the car. “Have you decided yet?”
“Decided what?” I say, tossing the shirt into the back seat.
“You said after we were done here, you would decide whether you’re taking me back to the car wash or not,” she says.
I huff out a laugh.
“Oh, I have absolutely no intention of bringing you back there,” I say, putting on my sunglasses. A flash of her inner thigh as she crosses her legs makes my dick jerk sideways in my pants. Light and shadows play across her smooth, tanned skin, like they’re putting a spotlight on her.
“Lacy might get mad,” she says. “She’ll say I’m shirking my responsibilities.”
“If she or anyone else gives you a problem, you tell them to come talk to me,” I say. The idea of coming to her defense again has me grinning.
Her cheeks flush.
“Where to?” I ask, starting the engine.
“I know just the place.”
She doesn’t elaborate.
I shift into drive.
“Let’s go.”
