Chapter Twenty
“All right, now the first stage of learning how to drive a stick shift is to accept you will stall the car your first few tries. Try not to get frustrated.”
I nod, letting my hand run over the gearshift. Shane is talking in his professional voice and it’s doing funny things to my stomach. “Just call me Zen.”
True to his word, he left the pub after lunch late this afternoon. I’d passed out for a few hours in my room, exhausted from last night and the chaotic emotions of the morning. When I woke, I’d started to pull on my jeans, then changed my mind, putting on the only dress I’d brought to Ireland with me. A soft blue, floral dress that I’d bought once when Ginger begged me to, insisting the color looked good on me. The tags were even still on it, since I’d never worn it. Since I’m sprinting outside of my comfort zone, though, I decided to go all out.
When I heard the knock on my door, I’d pulled it open knowing it was Shane. The appreciative look on his face told me he was debating backing me into the room and forgetting whatever plans he’d made. Instead, he’d dragged me from the room with a curse. Without telling me where we were going, he’d driven us out to Bull Island, to a beach called Dollymount Strand that ran the entire length of the narrow island. The wide shoreline was deserted this time of day, the sun just beginning to set over the water. At first, he’d only planned on showing me the island, walking along the beach, but when I’d admitted I didn’t know how to drive a manual transmission, he’d basically gone apoplectic.
Now, he hooks his hands under my arms and starts to drag me across the console. “Come on over here. I’ll show you the basics.”
A surprised laugh bursts past my lips at the unexpected move. “On your lap?”
“There’s no better place for you.”
He adjusts the steering wheel and driver’s seat so we both fit, choking on a laugh when I elbow him in the ribs. When I finally settle into his lap, both of us gasp a little at how good it feels. The light material of my dress, the way it rides high on my legs doesn’t go unnoticed by him. I can feel his swift response against my bottom. With willpower I didn’t know I had, I swallow the desire to abandon the lesson altogether and simply beg him to unzip his jeans. Focus. Prove to yourself you’re not a sex-depraved nitwit. “What if I drive us into the ocean?”
“I wouldn’t let us get that far, babe.”
His smoky voice, laced with just a hint of arrogance, makes me shiver. “All right, tell me the basics.”
“The basics. Right.” With one hand settled possessively on my hip, he uses his other to indicate the gearshift. “The hardest part is learning how to get the car into first gear. That’s what we’re going to focus on now.” His thighs flex underneath me, and I bite my lip hard, attempting to control my breathing. “You have three pedals, instead of two like you’re accustom to.”
I lean back to see under the steering wheel, bringing my back against his broad chest. “Three pedals. Check.”
His hand drifts up my bare left thigh, teasing the hem of my dress. “This one goes on the clutch. The other one on the accelerator.”
I do as he instructs me. “Done,” I say, barely recognizing my own voice. It’s almost impossible not to circle my bottom on his arousal. I want to tilt my head so he can attack my neck. I want him to slip a hand between my legs. But like me, he appears determined to take this as far as we can. We seem to have the same characteristic stubbornness.
“Okay, you’re going to press down on the clutch with your left foot. Good. Now, put the car into first gear.” I do it with a flick of my wrist. “Good girl. With your right foot, ease off the brake and press slowly down onto the accelerator. As you press down on the accelerator, slowly take pressure off the clutch until you feel the gears catch.”
Shit, this is way harder than I thought. I’ve only ever driven my sister’s rusting orange truck, which we lovingly referred to as The General. The hard part had been getting the bucket of bolts to start, but driving it had been relatively easy. This was a whole new ball game. Add the ridiculously hot man beneath me with a hard-on and this is a Fear Factor-style challenge. Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes and repeat what Shane said in my head. Ease off the clutch…slowly press the accelerator…feel the gear catch.
When I open my eyes, we’re moving down the beach.
“Agh!”
“Holy shit. She gets it her first time. I can’t believe it.” Shane is shaking with laughter beneath me, arm banding around my waist as a makeshift seat belt. Obviously, he hadn’t expected the vehicle to move anytime soon. “You’re a bloody natural.”
“What do I do now?” I practically shriek, eyes glued to the stretch of sand in front of me, ocean crashing to my left.
“You relax,” he breathes at my neck. His rough hand slides over mine on the clutch. “You’re going to switch to second gear now. Press down on the clutch as you shift, then switch back to the accelerator, just like the last time. Easy.”
He doesn’t have to instruct me the next time, as I push the car into third gear. We’re moving faster down the beach now. Shane rolls down the window so salty air begins to whirl through the car, lifting the hair off my shoulders and blowing it around my face. Apart from last night, it’s the most exhilarating moment of my life. I’m laughing, I realize. I’m laughing so hard that tears are streaming down my cheeks. Shane’s arm is tight and reassuring around my belly, his chest rising and falling behind me, as if we’re one person.
“Look at you, Willa.” He speaks beside my ear. “This is what you were meant to do. You were meant to go fast. To let go. Same as me.”
“Yes.” It’s only a whisper, but he hears it. I know by the kiss he plants on my shoulder. “Can I go faster?”
His chest rumbles against my back, but I can’t tell if he’s laughing or humming his approval. “Punch it, babe.”
I move the car into fourth gear, then fifth. My hair is like a living thing inside the car, floating around us both, carried on the sea air. There is a rush in my ears. It sounds like the ocean, but I know it’s something else. It’s the same feeling of completion from last night, but now that I recognize it, I let it grow and drown everything else out.
When I see the stretch of beach ending, I’m disappointed, but only for a fraction of second. As soon as the cars rolls to a stop, I’m being turned around on Shane’s lap to face him. I have no time to catch my breath before his mouth is consuming mine. His hands are tangled in my hair, pulling me closer. Our expelled breaths bounce off the inside of the car, joining the rush in my ears to create a sound unique to me. To us.
Dying to get as close to him as possible, I spread my legs as far as the confined space will allow and begin to ride the ridge behind his fly. He moans into my mouth and grips my bottom, urging me to go faster. His hips start pumping upward between my thighs, driving my bottom into the steering wheel so hard, I hear a far-off beeping and know it’s coming from our car.
“No, no. I need to get closer,” Shane pants against my mouth, before nearly ripping off the driver’s side door to get it open. He drags me from the car and pushes me back against the hard surface, partially heated by the purring engine. Running his teeth along the line of my neck, he slips his hand between my thighs to massage me through my underwear. “Are you wet enough, girl?”
“Are you kidding me?”
“Thank Christ.” He takes a condom from his pocket, hurriedly freeing himself from his jeans to roll it on. All the while, he’s watching with rapt interest as I drag my panties down my legs. When I start to pull the dress over my head, he stops me. “Leave it. I’m going to make you come in that dress. Then I’m going to f*cking burn it.”
Confused by his harshly spoken words, I start to question him, but he hikes me up against the car, propping me there with his hips and drives into me hard. Our simultaneous groans are short-lived because he hooks his arms beneath my knees and yanks my legs higher, making me go light-headed at the pressure of him buried deep inside of me. He bites into my bottom lip and draws it back as he starts to thrust. It’s a different, forceful side to Shane and this new, wild, living thing inside of me responds to it. I dig my fingernails into his shoulders, prop my heels on his ass, and beg for it with my body.
“Is this how it’s going to be?” His breath hitches as I start to match his rhythm, meeting each shove of his hips with a twist of my own. He lets me participate for a moment, then pins me against the car with a growl. “Every goddam time is better than the last. How the hell am I supposed to walk away from that? From you?”
I can’t answer that. Not only because I’m avoiding any thought of us parting ways, but because he’s filling my body over and over, making it so I can’t think beyond the oncoming release. It’s gathering in my belly, and I welcome it by latching onto Shane’s mouth, knowing his kiss will push me the rest of the way. It’s the extra push he needs, too. As soon as my tongue licks into his mouth, I feel him start to shake. Or maybe that’s me. I don’t know…I can’t tell anymore where I stop and he begins. I’m dragging him closer, he’s plastered to my body, and still, still, he’s too far away.
“Shane,” I sob, my heart feeling paralyzed.
“I know. I know,” he grates against me neck, biting the flesh there and finally sending me spiraling. “Let me have it all. No hiding from me. God, Willa.”
The car no longer exists behind us, we’re just clinging together as we free-fall. Holding one another as something that goes beyond physical response shudders through me and into him. My chest is squeezing so tightly that I’m gasping for air. I don’t know if there’s a name for what I’m feeling, but I know if he lets me go right now, in this moment, I absolutely will not survive it.
We stay that way for long moments, letting our bodies calm, even if there is no chance of calming our minds or thoughts. I’m wrapped around Shane who has gone so still, I’m starting to feel a little alarmed. Just as I start to ask him if he’s all right, he slams a fist onto the roof of the car, then drops his head onto my shoulder.
“Dammit, Willa. I didn’t see you coming.”
He holds my hand on the ride home, but we don’t say a word.