Page 100 of Powerless
But an amused little giggle slips out all the same.
“Good lord, Sunny.” Jasper’s lips quirk and his head shakes.
I laugh into my hands for a minute before regaining my composure. “Anyway, for the last couple of weeks, I haven’t missed it the same way. I’ve been sad but not stressed, if that makes any sense? I wanted to dance to get all the anxiety out of my body, to tire myself out enough that I wouldn’t think too hard. But dancing in Summer’s gym was . . . relaxing somehow. No one watched. I played whatever musicIwanted. I did whatever choreographyIwanted. I just got to be myself, and that was therapeutic, I think. No one telling me what I can and can’t do.”
“Until I rolled around,” Jasper grumbles darkly.
I laugh lightly and reach over the console, hoping I can pass off accidentally rubbing his dick as a reassuring pat on the leg.
My hand lands on his muscled quad, sliding inward. “Yeah, but the difference is I like it when you do it. I want it when you do it. I told you to do it.”
His cheek twitches under the strain of hiding a smile. My fingers inch further down between his legs, my pinky shifting out to trail down his impressive length.
“Sunny.”
I peek up at him, plastering an expression of faux innocence on my face. “Yeah, Jas?”
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Patting your leg?” I roll my lips together, keeping my eyes as wide as possible.
“This innocent look on your face is adorable when only a few hours ago I hung your head off that four-poster bed and watched you choke on my cock.”
Warm splotches crop up on my face immediately. Placing one hand over my chest, I lean away from him dramatically. “I am scandalized.”
“Yeah.” He chuckles, peeking up to the rearview mirror. “You’re about to be. Get back in your seat and lose the pants.”
My heartbeat thrums in my ears. “What about you?”
“What about me? I’m driving.”
“Aren’t you uncomfortable?”
“I’ve been fighting off getting hard around you for years. I’ll be fine. Pants off. I’m already tired of waiting.”
I blink once.Years.How did I not notice? Did I convince myself so thoroughly he would never be interested in me that I stopped really looking at him?
The answer is yes. It got to the point where it almost hurt to look at him that closely. To think about things that specifically.
“Sloane.” His voice is authoritative, and that’s “The Daddy” voice, I decide. There’s a switch that gets flicked and he goes from quiet, aloof Jasper tothat.
Whatever the voice is, it catapults me into action. My boots are already off, and I pull away the soft thermal socks, dropping them in the footwell before lifting my heavy wool sweater’s hem and peeling the black leggings from my body. His eyes stay on the road, but when I go to discard my panties, he says, “No, those stay.”
“But they’re—”
“An uncomfortable reminder of how desperate you are?”
“Ha.” I laugh bursts from my lips. “Yeah, that’s one way to put it.”
A smug smirk graces his lips as he peeks over at me briefly. “Good.”
I groan and tip my head back against the seat, bare thighs squeezed together while I wait. When no further directions come, I glance at him. “What now?”
“Now, you sit there and tell me about what you plan to do when we get back to the city.”
“But . . . that’s not hot.”
He laughs. “No. But it’s a necessary conversation.”
