My Killer Vacation

Before I get the chance, she exits the shop, a small purple bag clutched to her chest. Instinct has me scanning the immediate area for any kind of threat. By the time I’m done, she’s already walking at a fast clip toward the lot where she parked. Alone. At night. In a strange town. Holding a bag from a sex toy shop. What the hell is in that bag?

Telling myself it’s none of my business doesn’t help. Nothing short of giving her the orgasm myself is going to help—that’s the truth. And with that very ill-advised, very tempting thought circling my mind, I follow her into the parking lot. Just to make sure she’s safe. That’s what I tell myself. I’m just going to make sure she gets to the car without incident, but when she turns around and spots me, eyes widening, quickly attempting to hide the bag behind her back, this dangerous combination of affection and lust propels me forward, closer, closer until we’re toe to toe. Until her back is pressed up against the side of the car.

“Hey Taylor,” I say, planting my hands on the roof of her car.

“H-hey.” Oh Jesus, she’s so excited about whatever she just bought, her pupils are the size of hockey pucks. “What are you…are y-you following me?”

“I’m protecting you.”

“Oh, right.” She wets her lips and my blood rushes south, stiffening my dick right up. “H-how long would you say you’ve been protecting me? Ten minutes? Two?”

“Long enough to know it’s not sunscreen in that bag.”

“Maybe it’s tampons,” she says quickly. “Very private. For my eyes only.”

“I’m not falling for that.”

“You’re not?”

“No.”

“Oh.” She is still trying to keep the bag stuffed behind her back. “Well, I was just going to leave this in the car and go get Jude. I don’t want to walk into the bar with…whatever it is.”

I bring our mouths closer and her breathing accelerates. “What is it?”

“None of your business, Myles.”

My lips brush sideways across hers, making her eyelids droop. “Your unsatisfied pussy is my business and we both know it, Taylor. We’ve been edging each other for days.”

She shudders. “Can you please stop talking to me like that?”

“Why? You like it too much?”

“Yes,” she whispers.

“Give me the bag.”

“What are you going to do with it?”

“It depends what’s inside.”

“Just some lavender oil.”

“And?”

She squeezes her eyes shut. “Something called a G-spot Thumper.”

“Really.” I drop my right hand and I bring it up between her thighs, gripping her pussy tight beneath her skirt. Yeah. No fucking way something called a G-spot Thumper is taking the honor of making her come away from me. “What about your clit?”

“It does that, too,” she whispers in a rush, her free hand curling in the front of my T-shirt. “There’s a nubby thing.”

“Good. Give me the bag, sweetheart.”

She wedges it in between us, eyes unfocused.

After one more slow rub of her flesh through her dampening panties, I take the bag. Toss the tiny bottle of oil onto the roof of the car. “We won’t need that.”

“But—”

I rip the vibrator package open with my teeth.

“Oh boy. Look at you. Um…” A dizzy headshake. “The salesgirl said it might be partially charged, but she wasn’t sure…” I press the button and it fires to life. “Oh,” she rasps, mesmerized by the vibrating purple toy. “There it goes.”

I work her skirt up to her waist, leaving it loosely bunched there. God almighty, those thighs. That ripe-looking mound in between them. Mine. For right now. “I shouldn’t be doing this, Taylor.”

“I know,” she says breathlessly. “I’m distracting you from the investigation.”

“An investigation that you’re a part of, whether we like it or not.”

“Uh-huh.”

Stop talking. Now. You say too much to this woman. “But that way you kiss me? Like you’re curious and overwhelmed at the same time? The perfect rhythm of your hips when you rubbed on my cock this morning, begging to get banged. And Christ, the way you sucked me off…” I spit on the vibrator and shove it into her sunshine yellow underwear, grinding the vibration right where she needs it, listening to her stuttered moan, memorizing the shock of pleasure that transforms her expression. “I already know you’d be the best fuck I’d ever had by a million miles and that’s making it very hard to stay out of these panties, Taylor, you understand me?”

“Yes yes yes.”

“I’m going to handle this mean little throb, because it’s all for me, isn’t it?” She nods unevenly, and gratification like I’ve never known spreads inside me like spilled paint on a canvas. Responsibility, possessiveness. Shit I never expected to feel in my lifetime. “We’re going to take care of this ache and get back to work, you hear me?”

“Loud and clear,” she says in a rush.

“You tell me when you’re ready to have it inside of you.”

“Now. I’m…I’m…”

I drag a finger through her slit, coming out of it soaked. “A wet little thing. Aren’t you?”

She’s already starting to shake. Jesus. Jesus, she’s trembling. Lips parted. Eyes glassy, thighs restless, back arched. It’s taking every iota of willpower not to give her this cock up against the side of the car, but there is an unseen collar around my neck, put there in the name of self-preservation. If I have sex with this woman, if I indulge us without rules or boundaries, there will be no turning back. Somehow I know that with total certainty. I won’t be able to stay away when this is all over. Hell, I can barely keep away now. And if something happened to her…if I got distracted and missed something like last time…

I kiss her, hard, refusing to think about it. Kiss her so long and with so much hunger that we’re both sucking in oxygen by the time we come up for air.