Page 8 of Trouble
“Shit, I’m sorry,” I began.
“Don’t be,” she breathed. “I want you inside me.” She lifted her hips again and the tip of my cock met her opening.
“Gimme a sec.” Awkwardly, I reached into my jeans pocket for my wallet to locate a condom.Because Andrewouldactually kill me if I got his sister pregnant.
“Hurry.”
Shit. I fumbled as I rolled the rubber onto my cock, suddenly all fingers and thumbs. And then, just like that, I was inside her. Her nails clawed at my back as I thrust, all those years of pent up angst finally coming to fruition.
Fuck, she felt good.
I buried my head in her shoulder, breathing in her oh-so-familiar perfume. A perfume I’d sneakily smelt in department stores to remind me of her. Oh, I had it bad.
All too soon I felt the peak of orgasm beginning.No, no, it can’t be this quick.
“Lyla!” Her name screamed from my mouth, lungs bursting with frustration and I collapsed on top of her.
What the fuck had we just done?
Lyla’s fingers gently stroked the back of my neck as I composed myself, embarrassed for coming so quickly. I wanted to do it all over again, taking my time, exploring every inch of Lyla’s body. I hadn’t even gotten her out of that bustier, more was the pity.
From downstairs, I heard the garage phone ringing before the answerphone kicked in. I heard Wes’ voice in the distance, checking we were still on for dinner.
Impeccable timing, buddy.
When I’d seen Lyla all plans of meeting up with Wes had vanished from my head. I had no doubt Lyla’s parents would be waiting for her too. In all the years I’d known the Cash family, dinner was always at seven sharp—no excuses.
Reluctantly, I slid out of her embrace and cleaned myself up before re-buttoning my jeans, leaving her lying on the couch.
Propping herself up on her elbows, Lyla’s eyebrows knotted together. “What was that?”
“What do you mean?” I tried to be vague, pretending I wasn’t ashamed for coming so quickly.
“You know what I mean.”
“Come on, Lyla. You know we’re in a hopeless situation here.”
“Are we? I thought we were both adults. And we’ve both wanted this for a long time. Haven’t we?” There was a note of uncertainty in Lyla’s voice. “You can’t pretend it’s not going to happen again.”
I could lie to her. Tell it definitely wasn’t going to happen again—that it had been a mistake. Or I could jump on her as soon as I’d recovered from this round. Right now, I couldn’t seem to decide. I shook my head.
“It can’t, Lyla. Andre will be coming home soon. You know how that goes. You know what that means.”
She pouted, those glossy lips a little less perfect now, but still delightfully kissable. “The way I see it, we have some time to figure it out.”
“Please don’t try to get me to define this.” I closed my eyes, trying to get the image of a post-orgasm Lyla out of my head.
“What about the car?”
The MG Midget. My absolute dream car. How the hell had I managed to forget about the car? I watched as Lyla wriggled about on the couch, pulling down her skirt, her breasts still contained by that damn bustier. Her skin was deliciously flushed. She tossed her long, lustrous hair over her shoulder and as she sat up, she swung her long legs, still encased in those leather boots, over the edge of the sofa.
Now I knew how I’d forgotten about the car. I ran a hand over my face. “What about it?”
“Come away with me for the weekend to get the car. And then we’ll fix it up together.” Her eyes sparkled and she grinned. “We’ll make a mint and you know it.”
“Since when do you work on cars?” I wrinkled my nose.
Lyla stood, bent down to pick up her discarded panties, and approached me. “Ever since the day you told me you loved fixing them up.” Her hand went to my hip as she leaned up to kiss me. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow night. It’s Friday. We’ll pick the car up on Saturday and come straight back here. If you want?”
