Connected

His words are said with such emotion. They are so raw and honest; I know he can only be speaking the truth. My heart rate is slightly elevated. Need is pooling everywhere throughout my body, and I’m smiling so widely, not only on the outside but on the inside as well. It’s in this moment that I realize the sweet-nothings he whispers are a part of his gorgeous soul, the soul I feel so connected to in this very short amount of time we’ve spent together. I know I definitely made the right choice in coming with him to LA.

 

Grinning back at me, he pulls my seatbelt across my body. I see the corners of his lips lift when he runs his fingertips across my hipbone before buckling it and then down my leg, slinking his fingers slightly under my skirt before twisting and leaning back in his own seat. Fastening his own seatbelt, he glances at me. “You mentioned playing a game. What do you have in mind?”

 

Turning the volume up on the radio, I tap the library button on my iPhone and select one of my favorite songs. I allow the song to play for five seconds before hitting the pause button. “Name it?”

 

He looks over at me with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Really? Come on now. All you had to give me was the first three beats of that Roland drum machine used in the intro and I’d know the haunting beat of Phil Collins any day of the week.”

 

Starting to thump out the intro on the steering wheel, he adds rhythm to his own beat. Using the dash as his pedal bass and his own voice to synthesize the droning, he begins to sing the first few lyrics of In the Air Tonight.

 

Thinking to myself, Wow he’s good; I shake my head mouthing, “Show off.”

 

“I saw that,” he instantly vocalizes. With his eyes darting at me, he adds, “Come on, what else you got baby?”

 

Studying my library for songs he may not recognize in three seconds or less, I decide to try Poison’s Talk Dirty To Me. Before I even hit the pause button he yells out, “Look what the … Then he stops and grins, not bothering to finish the lyrics.” Reaching over and running his fingers down my leg, he nonchalantly mentions, “Talk Dirty To Me was named one of the forty greatest hard rock songs of all time,” and as he drags his fingers under my skirt, sending shivers down my spine, he finishes with, “But, you must know that, so why are you being easy on me?” Pulling his hand back, he reaches for his sunglasses and puts them back on. “Next.”

 

After nine songs I say, “Okay musical genius, last one. All or nothing.” Then flickering my eyes at him, I hike my skirt up just enough for him to catch a glimpse of what lies beneath and ask, “You in?” He has managed to guess every single song within three seconds, so why not distract him a little, knock him off his game.

 

I hear a sharp intake of breath as his head slightly turns in my direction. “I’m always in,” he mutters with a huge smirk on his face.

 

Looking through the songs on my playlist, and knowing there is not a single one he won’t know, I decide to just have some fun. Turning up the volume, I let Adelitas Way blare through the car, knowing full well there is no intro or musical chorus. Dirty Little Thing starts to play, and I let the first two lines flow before looking at his grinning face. On the third line of the lyrics, I don’t turn the music off, but rather start singing along. Reaching over to his leg, I run my hand up the inside of his thigh as I continue singing about how I like it when he looks at me and before I finish the first chorus, he joins in and we both sing about not being able to say no.

 

By the third chorus, the song is still thumping but we aren’t playing Name That Tune anymore. Reaching over, I take his sunglasses off so I can see his eyes. He immediately places his hand back on my leg. This time his fingers dart quickly to the bare spot between my hose and my garter belt. My body starts to ache with need from deep within my core. His touch does this to me every time.

 

Placing my hand on top of his, I give it a little squeeze and in a voice somewhere between playful and seductive, I quip, “You won, you know.”

 

With a full-blown blinding smile that makes my heart skip a beat and my lips tingle, he cocks his head and glances over at me. “I know,” he snickers.

 

Kim Karr's books