Page 6 of Grease Monkey
Dropping my arms to my sides, I lace my thumbs through her belt loops. Brittany toys with the edge of my sweatshirt, dipping her fingers under and brushing against my stomach as she tries to edge closer to the button on my jeans.
Fuck, her fingers feel like ice.
“Daddy was getting suspicious, so I needed to improvise. Can’t blame a girl for trying. I missed you.”
I tense, her words confirming this has gone way past two people just fucking for fun. There is never meant to be anymissinginvolved when you just use each other for getting off.
Raising my hand, I trace Brittany’s jaw just as gold fills my peripheral. Ana’s curls halo Brittany’s head, the girl having enough hair to rival a jungle cat, and I follow her climbing the three wooden stairs to her front door. The swish of her plaited private school skirt kisses the backs of her creamy thighs until she steps through the threshold and into her house. She turns, her sight landing directly on me and moving to the girl pressed against me, her fingers still tickling my flesh, unaware I’m eye-fucking my neighbor. Ana’s face darkens, and the door closes, leaving Brittany and me in my front yard.
“Maybe I’ll need to be more creative next time,” Brittany whispers, tugging my attention back to her. She looks up at me from under mascara-thick eyelashes, and drops her hand, her palm covering over my jeans and pressing against my dick. Between the pressure of Brittany’s hand and the image of Ana’s disapproving stare, I’m rock hard in seconds. With one expert flick of her fingers, Brittany unbuttons my jeans and slips her hand inside. Looking down, I watch as the slim fingers belonging to the girl I wish was someone else cup my stirring cock.
Beautiful, untouchable, Ana.
“Brittany,” I warn, gripping her wrist and pressing my ass into the car. If she manages to get those icicles around my dick without the material of my boxers separating us, she might just freeze the poor guy off.
“Come on, baby, let me make you feel good, like I normally do.” She pouts, squeezing my erection through the fabric of my boxers, her thumb teasing the head of my cock. A shiver of pleasured chills racks my body, and she leans up on her tiptoes, lips brushing my ear as she whispers, “Take me to your room and fuck me.”
A car drives past the house, and I let go of Brittany’s wrist, wrapping my arms around her, trapping her arm between us. Not that I particularly care if people can see what we’re up to. She giggles, flexing against me, loving that we are out in the open. There’s a reason we usually do this in the back of her car—Brittanywantsto be caught, whereas I just want to come. But not in my room.Neverin my room. That might make me an asshole, but I don’t want to hook up in a place girls can make themselves comfortable. It’s much harder to toss someone out on their ass without sounding like a jackass after they’ve made you come, and they want to snuggle.
Unless…
I release my hold and drag her toward our double garage. Pulling my keys from my pocket, I unlock the door and shove her inside, latching the lock behind me as she circles the room with a wrinkled nose.
“Really, Teddy? Here? Can’t we go to your room? It’s freezing in here.” She makes a show of rubbing her hands up and down her arms.
“The sooner you suck my cock, the quicker you’ll warm up, doll,” I reply with a cocky grin.
Her lip curls. “Such a gentleman.”
I stalk toward her and grip her chin between my thumb and forefinger. “You and I both know you’re not after gentle when you’re with me. If you want that, find a rich little boyfriend your daddy would approve of.” She glowers, but it doesn’t have the same visceral reaction Ana’s death glare does. I cock my head to the side and smirk when she doesn’t say anything. “Thought so. Now, get on your knees and thank me for fixing your car.”
Her eyes flare, and she shoves me back until my ass hits the side of my baby with an oomph. When Brittany wants to go, she wants to go. I grip her shoulders and drop my mouth to hers, demanding entry with my tongue, and as she moans, too distracted to notice, I push us away from my 1973 Mustang currently tucked under a dust sheet. Saying I have a thing for vintage cars is an understatement. The beauty currently tucked away is my pride and joy and no one will be pressed up against her while she’s sleeping.
We stumble over to the tool-covered workbench, and I break our kiss to grab a foam kneepad, dropping it by her feet. It flutters to the ground, and she looks at it, confused.
I wink. “What? Don’t want you getting sore when you’re kneeling for me.”
Not always a dick now, am I?
I give her a gentle but firm push on the top of her shoulders, and she lowers to her knees, dragging her hands up my thighs and curling her fingers around the waistband of my jeans. She licks her lips and slowly peels them down my legs, leaving me in my boxers, and palms the outline of my hard cock. I grit my teeth, biting back my annoyance at her trying to tease me. Seeing the bleach blonde girl with the giant tits eagerly wanting to please me would be any of the local preppy assholes’ wet dream. But for me, this is just transactional. All I want is to blow my load down her throat and send her on her way. Which won’t be long, if I’m being honest, because my earlier sparring with Ana was like foreplay.
I tug my boxers down, my erection springing free and hitting my stomach as I tuck my shirt under my chin. Brittany squirms below me, and I fist my dick to bring it to her mouth, brushing my free hand along her jaw. “Open.”
She does, and I run the tip along her bottom lip, smearing it with the bead of precum before sliding into her hot, wet, and ready mouth. Her lips close around me, taking me as far back as she can, and she moans, the sound vibrating up to my balls.
Fuck, I love head.
Her tongue swirls around the crown as her hand reaches up to wrap around the base, and she starts to pump in time to meet her lips. She sucks like she’s going for gold, slurping and choking herself, and I can see stars. I jolt as her teeth brush the underside of my dick, and for a brief second, I’m worried she might try to bite me. I thrust my hips forward, pushing farther down her throat, and the hand I have balancing behind me slips, knocking a trowel onto the floor with a clatter. Brittany gasps and tries to stop, but I lace my hands into her hair and push her back down onto my cock.
“Don’t stop,” I rasp. “Just no teeth.”
The need to come is barreling down my spine as she hollows out her cheeks and lets her hand take over the work. My head tilts back between my shoulders when her tongue does another sweep of the head of my cock. That almost has me second-guessing calling off our arrangement, but not enough that I like the idea of making this permanent.
“Fuck, that feels good,” I groan, the fist in her hair tightening just as a shadow dances across the ceiling, catching my attention.
Shit, shit, shit, no one should be home yet.
I look at the tiny windows that line the garage doors, surprised when a mass of curls bobs past them one at a time. The girl I cannot seem to get out of my head today. The daughter of the next State Attorney General—if the vote is in his favor—and queen of all the stuck-up moms of suburbia. The one who seems like an imposter in her own family.
