Of course, he wouldn’t, but the idea of him needing me got me hot inside.
And I’ve needed him ever since.
As I give him directions, I turn to face him. Lean with my hand on his thigh.
I tell him, “Your speech was amazing.” I’m trying to judge whether it’s too much for me to bring up what JoJo told me about him, from when he was a boy. It feels like we’re getting on well and I don’t want to risk upsetting things. He smiles and I let it pass.
When I point and tell him, “Turn right here,” I get a silly little-girl thrill when he does what I say. It makes my core heat up. I know what I really want is for him to tell me what to do. Make me give him what he wants. Even if it’s bad.
Especially if it’s really bad. If it’s filthy.
Thinking that, I let my guard down and give in to what I want. My hand slides toward him. To the inside of his thigh. His knee comes up and the car jerks. I fall forward. Almost spilling into his lap, I feel like such a klutz.
He catches me gently, keeping the brake on. I’m not small, but he catches me like I’m weightless, and he holds me as if I’m priceless. And he says, “I’m sorry, Lucy. That was clumsy of me.” And, “Are you okay?”
Yes, I’m okay, I think, as long as you count melting into a puddle and coming apart in your hands as ‘okay.’
When he pulls up in front of my building, I thank him.
I lean in and put my hand on his chest. I want to give him a long, dirty kiss. To taste his breath. Lick and suck on his tongue. Paint my body onto his.
But even though I’m still buzzing on the champagne, I know I don’t have the nerve. I give him a sweet and soft kiss on the lips. His lips are opening. But I’m already pulling back. I messed it up.
I think about asking him to see me to my door. That’s not too corny, is it? Maybe it is. I don’t even know. I never do any of this.
But tenderly, he pulls me closer. Gives me the kiss I was wanting.
Well, the nice part. The polite part. His lips are tender, shaping to mine. A little sighing moan scrapes out of my throat. It’s the nicest kiss I’ve ever had.
He starts to pull back. Fighting for some courage, I stretch toward him. My head makes tiny shakes to tell him, No. No, don’t stop. I move my lips against his.
I grip the hard contour of his chest. My other hand drops back onto his thigh. I lean into him and press hard against him. I have too much soft flesh to press with, and I know it. But I want every bit of it against him right now.
I don’t want him to think that I’m desperate. But I am. I’m desperate for him.
I’ve known him for years, but I hardly know him at all. I’ve always seen him as a big, strong protector. But there’s something of a predator about him, too. I can feel it now. Like he’s ready to devour me.
Oh, I hope he is. Because I’m ready to let him. Or to put up a fight. If that’s what he wants. Whatever he wants. He can take me any way that he likes, just so long as he wins.
He kisses me deeper. We wrap around each other. His hand on my waist pulls me to him. My mouth opens and I’m writhing in my panties. When his big hands hold and stroke my back, I arch and stretch.
He’s so sure, his confidence makes me shudder. And it reminds me of my own idiotic inexperience.
The hardness of his jaw scratches my palm. My head tips back. I stretch my throat. My lips are wet as his mouth opens. I shudder when the tip of his tongue traces the soft insides of my lips. He has such a sensitive tongue. And it’s so big. Every part of him is big.
I thought his shoulders were padded, but they’re not. He must be built like a superhero.
When we break, I’m almost lost, searching his eyes.
“Would you like to come in for coffee?” My voice is low and hoarse.
His is husky. “I don’t drink coffee at night.” Then his head shakes, like a twitch. As if he meant to say something else. It reminds me of something JoJo said once.
“Maybe come in for something else, then?”
“What?” This time he corrects himself. “Sorry. I’m not usually let out in polite company.”
“You don’t have to be polite with me.” And I tell him, “Come in for… anything you want.”
I feel slutty saying it. It makes me feel bad. But in a good way. And good, in a really bad way.