She wasn’t a girl, though. Maybe that was the problem. Ophelia was dating men that wanted tame and behaved. They wanted low aspiration, stay at home with the kids, have dinner ready when they got home, and missionary sex lasting long enough to get her going but never enough to get her off.
Knowing she’d likely settle for that had me squeezing the steering wheel a little too tight.
In the passenger seat she was studying her notepad with the pen between her teeth. Her dress had ridden up a dangerous amount, tan legs sticking to the leather seats. She had to know how much skin she was showing—she always knew exactly what she was doing.
“You’re certified gold at random butterfly trivia.” She smiled around the end of the pen. “Great location choice, interesting conversation, good humor”—she rolled her eyes—“but could be better.”
“Boo,” I protested.
“Extra points for opening doors, holding hands, not sweating on said hands. Appropriate and well-fitting outfit.” Her eyes roamed over me. “A haircut wouldn’t hurt.”
I shrugged as we passed beneath a traffic light. “More to hold onto.”
She laughed. “God, do you ever turn it off?”
“Why would I when you’re sitting in my passenger seat with your dress around your hips like that practically daring me to pull over?”
That perfect bottom lip got a fresh bite, and she flipped her notepad closed. “Negatives: frisky touching, suggestive commentary—”
“Flirting,” I corrected her.
“Complete misunderstanding of The Great Gatsby.”
“The eyes are watching, the weather is hot, the green light blinks.”
“If flight training doesn’t work out I’m sure they’ll hire you at CliffsNotes.” She shifted in her seat to face me, and that dress slid up even higher. Fuck, please be wearing panties or I’m gonna drive off the goddamn road.
“Anything else, smartass? I might not be too dusty after all.”
“Yeah, your truck.”
“My truck?” I scoffed. “This truck is a machine. What’s wrong with my truck?”
“No bench seat.”
I lifted the large center console to reveal a middle seat between us. “Try again.”
Ophelia tossed her notebook onto the dash and unbuckled her seatbelt.
“What are you doing?” My attention waned between her and the highway. She stretched her top half across the bench, lying on her stomach. Her head was so close to my crotch that my palms started to sweat.
“Date’s over,” she noted mischievously.
I blew out an unsteady breath and my dick picked up a pulse as she reached out and unfastened my belt buckle, little fingers working at the bulge of my zipper. My entire stomach tensed in anticipation.
“Tell me you’re wearing your panties.”
She stopped briefly to smirk up at me. Fuck, that view. Then, she pulled her dress up past her perfect, tan-lined ass to show me there wasn’t even a goddamn string of fabric between my fingers and that sweet pussy. “You’re fucking trouble,” I mumbled. “But you know that already, huh?”
“I want to even the playing field.” She continued working on my shorts until my fly was completely loose. “So far I’m the only one that’s gotten any benefits out of this friendship.”
“I’ve gotten plenty,” I rasped, right hand abandoning the steering wheel to slide down her back and take a handful of bare skin. “This is breaking a whole list of laws, O.”
I checked the rearview and the side mirrors to see how alone we were. My chest pounded and every ounce of blood in my body did a deep dive to my crotch the second she reached beneath the band of my briefs to pull me out.
Another room at the fun house. This was roadhead Ophelia, and I hoped I never figured her out.
“Oh,” she mumbled. Seemingly to herself, but I heard every soft note of it.
“You don’t have to,” I told her, all the while using my free hand to massage the tense muscles at the back of her neck. She wrapped her fingers around me and I groaned like a fucking virgin. “It’s been a while.”
“Just drive, Frankie.” My focus shifted entirely to my lap as that first sampling lick of her tongue swept across the head of my cock. “Sweet,” she whispered.
Sweet. She called the taste of me sweet, and my legs tensed so hard I probably pulled a muscle. Then she licked me again, and again, and the knot in my stomach unfurled with pleasure and spread its way down to my toes.
“That’s real fucking good.” Flyaway hairs started falling in front of her eyes and I pushed them to the side. “Get me all wet.”
O took that literally, reeling her head back the tiniest bit and spitting on it.
“Jesus Christ.” My knuckles turned white on the wheel and I slowed to barely fucking sixty in the right lane. Nearly four years of pent-up sexual frustration felt close to spilling out of me already.
She worked her palm up and down, keeping her lips around the tip like a lollipop, and my hips lifted looking for more.
“I needed this.” My head fell back on the headrest and my eyes lidded. “Needed you so bad.”
I could feel her smile around me, the sharp edges of her teeth grazing everywhere I was sensitive. I was so hard it was starting to fucking hurt and her mouth was the perfect answer. How could I ever forget how good this felt? Did it ever feel this good?
“You have a really nice dick,” Ophelia murmured.
I was going to blow my load all over her face if she started telling me things like that.
She dipped and closed her mouth over the first few inches, finally putting an end to the tongue tease. I let out a long, low groan that would have been embarrassing if I gave a fuck anymore. “You’re good at this,” I bit out. “Look at you.”
Her eyes flickered up and I knew the image of that pretty freckled face getting fucked would be what I got off thinking about for a long, long time.
My fingers were itching to touch but I was tied up driving. I just kept scratching her back, soothing the skin across her shoulders, and squeezing her ass when the pleasure got so good I needed an outlet.
Her messy bun bobbed up and down and started to come loose, so I fisted a hand in her hair and held it back. She moaned at the gesture, the vibration of her noises and her tongue tightening my groin. This was about to be over.
“You like rough,” I noticed. “You like when I hold your throat down on my cock.”
She nodded as her hand stroked all the way down to my base and held there, lips following. I lifted my fist and bit down on the knuckle.
Then she choked.
“The whole thing, huh?” I could hardly breathe, let alone focus on the exit I was supposed to be taking as I turned off the highway. “That’s a lot of fucking dick in your mouth, Ophelia.”
She continued to take it all, up and down without stopping for a sip of air. My lower back started to sweat and my balls tightened.
“Goddamnit, O,” I groaned. She flicked her tongue around it. “I'm gonna come down your throat.”
She didn’t stop, only moaning more, sucking harder, working faster. Her fist and her mouth in perfect, lethal tandem. It felt so fucking good my heart was thundering against my rib cage. I wanted the feeling of reaching that peak to last forever.
It was over. God, it was so fucking over for me.