I smirked. “Dawson, we are not listening to this crap. I didn’t listen to it back then, and I won’t listen to it now.”
What was blaring through the speakers of the Camaro was what I’d refer to as murdering music. All it was, was a bunch of guys screaming (literally, screaming) into their mics. They were screaming so loud, I couldn’t even understand the lyrics.
“I get that you like this screaming crap, but I don’t. Gimmie,” I said, putting my hand out towards him and twinkling my fingers.
Dawson shook his head, a smile stretching along his face. “Nooooope.”
I growled and then reached for his phone anyway. It was lying on his lap with an aux cord hanging out from the bottom. The second my hand landed on Dawson’s jeans, his entire body went rigid.
I noticed the shift, still reaching for his phone, and then almost died.
My hand was resting right… on… his… dick.
Like, literally, I could feel his dick through his jeans.
My first thought, even before lifting my hand was, Is it really that big?!
Then, mortified, face blazing with heat, I snatched the phone and pulled it into my lap.
I expected Dawson to joke around and say something inappropriate because he’d been spewing those stupid, “That’s what she said,” jokes all day, even first thing this morning, but he said nothing.
Instead, he gripped his gear shift so hard that I was certain it would break off. His jaw muscles worked back and forth and then I felt pleasure ball up inside of my belly when I glanced up and saw his full, lower lip tugged in between his bright teeth.
He. Was. So. Hot.
I coughed, trying to hide the fact that I was so turned on that if he were to just stare at me, I’d probably have an orgasm.
I was almost wishing that Eric and I were on better terms so he could release some of this insane pressure I was suddenly feeling, but I knew now, after having my hand accidently rest on Dawson’s lower region and then almost coming apart from the mere sight of his lip tugged in his mouth, Eric would no longer suffice in my sex game.
Would anyone?
My God, I was never going to be able to have sex with anyone ever again without imagining Dawson above me, ramming himself inside me and sucking in his bottom lip as I tightened around him.
To watch someone like him, come apart because of me…that would be equivalent to heaven. Dawson was irresistible.
He was irresistible when he was sixteen, but now? Now he was so damn tempting that I would choose having him over my last breath.
Having Dawson would probably make going to Hell worth it.
Finally, evening my breath and calming my raging hormones down, I tried opening his phone to pick a different song.
I huffed, snapping my head over to his. “Password protected. Really? Why?”
Dawson swallowed, moving that strong and prominent Adam’s apple up and down. Whew.
“One word: Breanna.”
I thought for a moment. Why was he with her again?
“Well, what’s the password?” I asked, ignoring my desire to prod him about Breanna. They were breaking up soon, I thought, so it didn’t matter if I told him once again that she was all wrong for him.
Dawson looked out his side window for a second, then brought his eyes back to the road. His shoulders were pulled back and his eyes blinked rapidly.
Why was he nervous? It wasn’t like I was going to dig through his texts and pictures. I rolled my eyes, ready to tell him just that, but he stopped me.
“Zero.”
I peered at him out of the corner of my eye, but pressed the number zero on the keypad.