Page 106 of Bad at Love
“I can’t believe that just bloody happened,” he says, flicking on the headlights.
“I can,” I tell him. “I guess it was pretty obvious what we were doing.”
“Hey we could have been hot-boxing.”
“For some reason that’s probably not as frowned upon as sex in a public place.”
“Ah, you Americans are a bunch of prudes, I tell you.”
“Hey,” I say, smacking his arm as we drive out of the parking lot and onto Highway 1, heading north. “I’m not a prude.”
“No,” he says, a devilish look coming across his eyes. “You’re not.” He glances down quickly at my thighs. “Spread your legs for me.”
“What?”
“Do it. Spread your legs. Pull up your skirt.”
My mouth drops open, that desire that disappeared from the shock of earlier is back. I’m still wet, I’m still unsatisfied and needy.
And I do what he says, flashing him.
He gnaws on his lip, eyes darting between the winding curves of Highway 1 and the soft curves of my thighs.
“Keep your eyes on the road,” I warn him, pulling my dress down a bit as a threat.
“I will. I will.” He licks his lips and then reaches over, sliding his hand between my legs. Because the car is an old sports car, everything is compact and he doesn’t have to reach far with his long arms.
I spread my legs wider, give him easier access. His fingers slide with ease against me. The angle may be a bit awkward but given how fucking hot this is, him trying to get me off while driving, I’ll forgive it. Hell, all he needs to do is just touch me and if I want to let go, I can.
“Touch yourself,” he says. “Your tits.”
I gulp and look nervously around. There are no other cars in our direction, the only ones are passing the other way. Even if there was a car in front or behind us, they wouldn’t be able to see anything because of our lights in the darkness.
I bring my breasts out of my top, my nipples hardening in the cool air and start squeezing them, teasing them, putting on a show for Laz.
Still, I’m wary. Nervous. I’m so fucking new at this that even the simple things are big leaps for me. Not so much incourage, but in sexuality. I’m coming into my own, learning what I want, what I like, but it’s happening so fast. If it wasn’t Laz behind the wheel, controlling the proverbial ride, I don’t think it would happen.
But with him, I feel safe. Especially after he opened up earlier. The Magic 8 Ball stuff has always been a bit kooky and weird, definitely something an avant-garde artist would do, but now that I know the reason behind it all, it makes sense. I feel that much closer to him now.
“Hey, sweet girl,” Laz whispers, sliding his fingers up. “Come out of your head. Come onto my hand.”
I laugh. “Make me.”
Determination creases his brow. He works me into a frenzy in seconds flat and then I’m gripping the seatbelt, the seat, my nails digging in as I come.
“Oh god!” I yell and it feels so good to let it all out, the wind in my face, the stars in my hair. “Laz, Laz…”
It takes a moment to come back down, to realize I wasn’t in fact flying through the night sky. I was just in my boyfriend’s car, being brought to an orgasm.
Laz takes his hand away with an arrogant grin, then licks his fingers. “That was just the appetizer, you know.”
“I know,” I say, my grin dazed, my heart happy. “Take me home, Laz.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
MARINA
“I FEEL YOU”
