Page 5 of Grease Monkey
She quickly looks away, and I know that under her thick curly hair, the tips of her ears will be pink. We’ve danced this dance too many times before.
“Hey, Ana?” Slowly dragging her gaze back to mine, her brilliant sea-green eyes bore holes into my soul in a way no one has ever done before. She chews on her bottom lip, her hand wrapping tightly around her tote bag strap as she slows her steps. Lowering my voice, I inject as much seduction into it that it could toe the line with creepy. “What’s a guy to do before you finally admit you want to go out with me?”
I swear she gasps, those large eyes turning into disks, and I am almost unsure if the red seeping out from her collar is from lust or embarrassment. Although with the smoke coming off her shoes as she takes off down the sidewalk, I’m going to go with lust.
I laugh, hitting the gas pedal, and the car lurches to catch up with her.
“Ana?” I sing, unable to help myself. “Ana Banana. Don’t leave a guy hanging.”
She exhales, her warm breath puffing around her in annoyance, but I’m not deterred. If anything, it spurs me on.
“C’mon, Ana. Tell me. I promise it would be the best date you ever go on. You just have to tell me what to say to convince you.”
She nibbles on that lower lip again, pulling back her shoulders, and my blood hums with excitement as I wait for her sparring tongue to whip me with something sassy. Instead, the fire dies as quickly as it was ignited, and she answers in a small voice. “I’d say you’re an idiot, Teddy.”
It’s laced with something I can’t put my finger on. Sadness? Anger, maybe? Shit, I might have gone too far. Watching her squirm as I use the worst pick-up lines known to the internet is fast becoming my favorite thing to do whenever I see her. Every bashful flare of amusement, quickly hidden smiles, and sharp comebacks are always worth the late-night google search for the cheesiest ones I can find for our next chat. But the usual buzz that follows our interactions has somehow dimmed and the unfamiliar voice that suspiciously sounded like my dad in the back of my head, the one that urged me to kick it up a notch, has immediately silenced. Now I feel awkward and unsure of how to navigate through this unknown territory.
For fuck’s sake. Grow a pair, Teddy. Clearly, Dad’s got in your head and making youthink. We both know that’s something you don’t do too much of, so don’t start now.
Swallowing roughly, I ignore whatever emotion is pushing its way into my chest. This is our dynamic, and I’m not changing that after a few off-handed words from my dad.
Pushing the car forward again, I pass her, but only to slow down and wait for her to catch up, watching her through the sideview mirror as she looks everywhere else except at me.
“It’s okay, you don’t need to admit that I’m your dream guy,” I drawl, as she appears by the window.
“I’m surprised you’re able to get out of bed in the morning with how big your head is,” she quips, and I instantly relax, letting her stroll away, and watching her whip her long curls over her shoulder. My fingers twitch with the urge to feel them tangle between each digit, pulling sharply to tug her head back, as I push my tongue inside her mouth. I choke, blinking out of the vivid picture of us together, and continue on after her. Honestly, with the amount of starting and stopping I’ve done along this street, people are going to think I don’t know how to drive.
Ana’s smirking knowingly as I slow down again, resting my wrist against the top of the steering wheel. I force a lightness into my tone and hold my hand to my chest. “You’re breaking my heart, Ana Banana.”
“I’m sure you’ll get over it,” she replies. “A good-looking guy like you? I bet you have a long line of girls waiting for you to ask them out.”
“You think I’m good-looking?” I preen, puffing my chest out at her words.
I drag my teeth across my lower lip, fighting the need to run my thumb across hers as she sucks it into her mouth, her cheeks darkening to a deep shade of red. When her wet lip slowly reappears, my dick twitches in my pants. So it’s not just her glare that makes my cock hard, but also the thought of those plush pink lips too.
“You know you’re good-looking,” she says quietly, almost whispering.
“Yeah, but I didn’t know you did, too.” I smile, pumping my eyebrows up a few times. “And I’m going to drive away now, so you can’t take it back.” She huffs, her mouth gaping like she wants to suck the words back out of existence. I press harder on the pedal, the car speeding up as I yell, “Ana Banana thinks I’m sexy.”
“I didn’t say that!” she calls after me, and I laugh at the reflection in the rearview mirror, her eyes wide, her mouth still open, and her tote bag resting on the sidewalk. It quickly dies, though, as I turn into my driveway and notice Brittany sitting on the porch steps. She’s dressed in a tight baby pink ski suit that looks more appropriate for the Alps, and she’s unzipped it so ridiculously low that she runs the risk of slipping a nip.
Fuck, I forgot about her.
She hops up as I pull to a stop, twisting her long bottle-dyed blonde hair around her finger. Shrugging on my sweatshirt, I hop out of her car, closing the door and leaning against it. Folding my arms across my chest, I watch her slowly walk across the finely trimmed grass, the frost crunching under her snow boots.
“Didn’t realize there were ski slopes nearby,” I tease.
Her hips sway with every step until she stops in front of me, her hands sliding along my arms, so much longing shining from her blue eyes; it’s bordering on desperate.
“You’re so funny, Teddy.” She giggles, her fingers walking across my biceps, each of her sharp nails biting into the cotton sleeves like an annoying scratch that comes with getting a vaccine. She runs her tongue along her bottom lip, practically salivating as her hungry gaze rakes down to my jeans hanging precariously low on my hips.
“Brittany,” I say, and she melts against me, pressing her too-big-to-be-real tits to my chest.“You need to be more careful, doll. Someone’s been wasting daddy’s precious money to get my attention.”
Her perfectly manicured brows dip, her fingers hesitating in their walk up and down my arm. I reach into my back pocket, hips thrusting out to brush against her, and she smiles wide, right until I pull out the shiny piece of metal Dad had removed from her tire. Holding it between us, Brittany giggles again and doesn’t even try to look embarrassed.
“I can assure you, Teddy, that back wheel was close to falling off,” she says, grabbing the nail file and slotting it inside her bra. I watch with morbid fascination as the tip slips easily between her tits, her silicone cleavage holding it nice and snug.
Not exactly the safest way to store that.
