The swell of her breasts are taunting me right now, daring me to touch—and lick—when I shouldn’t even be looking. But her chest is impossible to ignore in that dress.
The plan was to show up early, talk to her about what happened, and smooth things over before leaving. But then there was some insane thing going on between Bella, Allie, and Bella’s pussy when I got there. After that, Allie’s pumped up cleavage caught me off guard. And she smells so fucking good.
All I want to do is kiss those pink lips that are shining with some sort of gloss tonight. Well, that’s a lie. That’s not all I want to do.
Now the sexual tension is too thick to be cut through by even a chainsaw.
“I am,” she says, breaking the deafening silence in the car as we reach a red light.
Confused, I turn to face her just as a small, somewhat daring smile tugs at her lips.
“You are what?” I ask.
She cocks her head, holding my gaze, before shocking the hell out of me. “Wearing panties.”
A horn blares from behind me, causing me to jump as Allie snickers, and I glare in my rearview mirror until I realize the jerk is honking for me to go. I have no idea how long that light has been green. Right now, I’m doing good not to break the steering wheel.
“Are you trying to get us killed?” I ask, exasperated, eliciting more laughter from her.
I shift in my seat when my cock throbs and needs adjusting. Ah, fuck it. She knows what she does to me. There’s no hiding it.
Reaching down, I adjust myself, and smirk when I hear her audible breath.
“We really have to stop flirting,” I say through strain, cursing when I get even harder. How the hell does she do this to me? She’s not even touching me.
She laughs nervously while tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
“You’re the one who brought up panties,” she points out, still flirting.
“You were the one talking about magic pussy when I walked in.”
She bursts out laughing, and I smile as I drink in the sound. She looks so carefree right now, and that’s a major difference from the bitter, angry woman I met months ago.
“I wasn’t talking about it. Bella was. Actually, she was begging hers to become magical.”
This time I laugh as Allie leans back, her eyes on me as I navigate the roads leading just out of Sterling Shore.
“What the hell is that?”
I feel her grin as she gets comfortable. “Something that makes a man crumble for a woman after one night.”
I shift again, thinking about the night I wish I could remember. I’ve been inside Allie, buried deep enough to create a child, and not one fuzzy memory from that night will emerge.
“We really need to talk about something else,” I grumble, which only provokes more amused laughter from her.
“Fine. Then what should we talk about? The fitting room incident? Because it’s really not surprising that we’re attracted to each other, Wren. We did make a child, and that isn’t because we appalled each other. I doubt we’ll be in such an intimate position again, so please stop freaking out.” In a teasing lilt, she adds, “By intimate position, I mean we won’t be alone in a fitting room with me in just my underwear or a dress that requires no panties.”
Fucking hell. That’s where I am right now—fucking hell.
Shifting again, I cut my eyes at her. She bites back a grin before looking away, and I groan as she crosses her legs. Her dress is split up the side, rising high on her thigh, and so much lightly tanned skin gets exposed with the movement.
“You should probably watch the road,” she says, amused, and I curse while gripping the steering wheel tighter and jerking my gaze back where it belongs.
“Change the subject again, please,” I say through clenched teeth.
She snickers softly, but then her laughter dies.
“Where are we going? Your mom’s house isn’t this way.”
That has me smiling. “Her Sterling Shore house isn’t big enough to host an event this size. She has a much bigger home on the cliffs. It looks over the ocean. It’s actually a badass view.”
“Cliffs?” she asks meekly.
“Angel is safe. Mom keeps bodyguards with her at all times. Even if Angel managed to sneak out—which she wouldn’t—one of them would have her scooped up. But I doubt Mom has paid attention to anything but our daughter.”
She visibly relaxes beside me, and I settle down just a little now that the flirty air is gone.
“Can I ask you a question?” she asks.
I shrug before nodding my answer.
“It’s about your ex. Or is that crossing a line? I know you’re really private, so I don’t want to push a button.”
That’s one way to make my dick shrivel back up like a turtle seeking its shell.