“We could just keep things low-key. For a while I mean,” I suggest. Thinking out loud.
“Keep what low-key?” Slade asks, frowning. “I can’t keep my hands off you. I want to put a baby in your belly every chance I get,” he says, glancing over with a raised brow.
Hearing him say it like that, makes everything so… real.
Jeez. This is serious, and Slade’s right. How can we keep ‘us’ low-key? The guy’s as big as a streetlamp and not exactly easy to keep discreet.
“Don’t you think?” he asks, pressing me for an answer.
“I… I mean, we haven’t… you know, yet.” I remind him. Noticing his lips twitch.
We will, and soon enough if I can figure out exactly where we’re going.
“I want it to be special, but I don’t wanna waste all day getting somewhere,” he says, sounding more practical than romantic.
“You could do me anywhere, Slade,” I joke, trying to sound casual, but when his foot eases off the gas and he starts eying for a place to stop I can tell he considers my words.
I swallow hard, remembering just how big that bulge at the front of his jeans is. And try to picture me taking it all as deep as I know he wants to put it in me.
“Maybe some dinner first. A little music,” I suggest, feeling butterflies in my belly. The good kind though.
My hand glides over my stomach trying to imagine what being pregnant would feel like, let alone what it must be like to be impregnated.
What a day so far.
If only I could tell Tasha. If he wasn’t her dad, she’d be happy for me.
Wouldn’t she?
The memory of what she said last night still hurts me to even think about it.
‘…you think you would have any sort of a chance with someone like my dad?’
It echoes like something from a nightmare before Slade’s voice pulls me back to a better reality.
“We could stop at the club’s cabin,” Slade muses aloud, checking his gas gauge as well as looking at the sky.
As if he’s planning a balloon launch and not my first time.
Like I said, he’s practical as well as handsome and certainly knows how to use his tongue when he’s not talking.
“A cabin in the woods. Not afraid to be seen with me are ya?” I murmur, but Slade doesn’t hear it the way I mean it.
“It’s more a house than a cabin,” he says, a little crestfallen.
“I’m sorry. I just think… Ugh! I don’t know what I think,” I confess.
Dreading tension with Slade because it reminds me of Tasha.
God I wish she’d just call. We could just talk about things instead of all acting so damned weird.
“Look, let me just get some gas and we can go into the city, find someplace nice,” Slade says, sounding more certain than with his cabin idea.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Slade
Next to Abby, gas is priority one right now. I should’ve paid more attention to how much was in the tank before leaving town.
But if I’m honest, I’d been paying more attention to Abby’s curves especially now that I know what’s underneath those clothes of hers.
Now that I know just how much she’s ready to be claimed properly.
If we do run dry, I might just take Abby up on her suggestion and pull over. Filling her, bent over the hood instead of the gas tank.
But the thought of someone happening by, the very idea that anyone else but me might see her, that fine ass and those thick hips…
I get gas the first chance I get, pulling into a roadhouse I haven’t seen in years. Not since I rode with the club.
I really ought to get out more.
“You want anything?” I ask Abby, knowing she skipped breakfast and it’s now lunchtime.
“I’m good,” she squeaks, but I know better.
If the food’s as good as I remember, I’ll be sure and grab us both something to gnaw on until we can gnaw on each other.
Catching a glimpse of her checking me out in the rearview mirror makes me smile, making Abby blush. Her shyness is something I still have to get used to.
Not everyone is as outgoing as… Tasha.
Shit. I almost forgot to call her.
I can’t seem to think about one without the other popping up it seems.
“Everything alright?” Abby asks, leaning out the window and craning her neck. She’s so in tune with my emotions but I tell her I’m fine.
Everything’s fine.
I can feel her watching me as I go in to pay, pausing at the food court on the way out and picking up a couple of the king size dogs the joint’s famous for.
“Everything alright?” The cashier asks, handing me the reinforced foil and cardboard tray, echoing Abby’s words.
The size of these things… I hope she doesn’t think— Ah well. She’ll find out soon enough.
“Uh, can I get a couple of waters,” I ask the guy, faking a smile. Feeling my frankfurter shift in my pants as I imagine Abby trying to get one of these hotdogs in her mouth.