Lukas
Parker wets her lips and smiles at me. There’s a hazy, sultry edge to the way she’s looking at me that I never expected. Under that sweet shell, she’s all fire and I think I’d happily let her burn me alive.
I’m still hard as hell, turned on to the point of being painful, and every tiny move she makes on my lap is equal parts pleasure and torture. I’d kill to strip her bare and sink myself deep inside her, but she deserves better than that. Jesus, she deserves so much better than me, but hell if I can let her go.
Releasing her hair, I run my fingers down her neck and kiss her. I can feel her pulse racing under my fingertips as she kisses me back with soft little sighs. We’ve got to get out of here or I’m going to fuck this up.
I ease off, even though it fucking kills me. “Come on. I’m getting you some dinner.”
“Now?”
“Yes, now.”
“But… you’re still kind of…” She looks down between us and blushes.
I raise my eyebrows at her shy expression. She was grinding on my lap like two minutes ago, but now she’s shy?
“I’ll be fine. And you have to let me buy you dinner. I kidnapped you. Those are the rules.”
“I didn’t realize there were rules for this kind of thing,” Parker laughs as she slides off my lap onto the sand beside me. The rasp of her movement sets my dick aching all over again and I groan, drawing my legs up and taking a deep breath. I can do this. I can wait. Nobody wants sand in their ass. Parker gives me a sympathetic look, but there’s a smug edge to it she can’t hide.
Sighing, I stand and hold my hand out to her. She takes it with a smile and lets me pull her to her feet.
“Let’s go, Freckles.”
Parker takes one last look out at the ocean. “Fine, but I’m coming back as soon as you fix my car.”
I want to tell her not to hold her breath. The Civic is beyond fixing, but I don’t want to upset her or make her worry about it right now.
“Or I could drive you out again sometime,” I tell her as I take her hand and tug her up towards the walkway and our helmets.
She gives me a smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.
We shake off as much sand as we can and put our shoes back on. The sun drops below the horizon as we walk back to my bike, and it takes longer to wind our way back.
“Where are we going to eat?” Parker asks. “We’re a mess.”
She’s not wrong. We’re both salty and damp from the knees down, windblown and dusty from the sand.
“I know a place,” I tell her.
“Very mysterious,” she teases.
I laugh as I put the helmet on her head, securing the straps before wrapping her back up in my leather jacket.
I get on the bike and pat the seat for her to hop on. She doesn’t hesitate this time. Her warm little hand grips my shoulder as she throws a leg over the back and shimmies into place before wrapping her arms around my waist. I reach back and squeeze her thigh. She feels so… right. I can’t pin it down, but I love the feel of her behind me like this. I’ve taken girls for rides before, but it was always more stressful than anything else.
“Ready?” I ask.
“Yes, sir,” she teases. I suppress the growl of pleasure that little phrase stirs in me. She has no clue how fucking sexy she is.
I rev the engine before pulling out of the parking lot. We fly down the little two-lane highway until I see the string lights and the bright pink taco truck. I pull into the gravel lot and kill the engine. Parker holds onto my bicep as she climbs off the back and grins at me as she undoes the helmet.
“Tacos,” she sighs happily.
I run a hand through my hair. Maybe I should have taken her somewhere nicer. This was just the first thing I thought of, but now what we’re here I’m realizing I could have done better. I mean, these are the best tacos for a hundred miles, but Parker deserves more than dinner on the side of the road. “Yeah, It’s not exactly white tablecloths—”
“It’s perfect,” she interrupts me with a hand on my chest and a sweet smile. God, the look on her face. She’s practically glowing. You’d think I took her to The French Laundry instead of Anita’s Taco Stand. But I’m realizing I may have misjudged a lot of things about Parker.