Levi’s jaw was clenched tight. “I can see you,” he said with quiet intensity. “So fucking hot.”
“I took you in so deep it hurt—it always hurts a little—but I love it. I love the way my body hugs yours so tight, every inch of you.” Squeezing a little tighter, I moved my hand up and down his shaft, wishing I could get my mouth on him too. Actually, I wished I could straddle him and finish what we’d started that night, but I didn’t think that would be too safe in a moving car on US-131. The hand job would have to do.
For now, anyway.
“And I missed you there so much I had to get my vibrator out.”
“Yeah?”
“Mmhm. I was nice and wet just from thinking about you, so I put it inside me and pretended it was you.”
“Wait, wait. Did you ride it like you rode me? I need the whole picture.”
I smiled. He was such a man, wanting the complete visual. “I did. It was a little tricky, but I got on my knees and put it between my legs, then I lowered myself onto it like I did when you were there. Right in the middle of my bed.”
“Did it feel good?” he asked between pants.
“It wasn’t even close to the real thing, but yes, it did.” I picked up the pace and pressure with my hand. “I remembered the way you felt as I slid up and down your cock, so hot and hard and wet with my *.”
“Oh, God,” he said through clenched teeth. “You’re totally gonna do this, aren’t you?”
“Want me to stop, love? I will. We can save your nice shirt. Or,” I suggested, jerking him even harder, “you can come all over it. Drench it, like I wanted you to drench me, like I drenched my toy. I came so hard thinking about fucking your cock, riding it and yelling your name, I—”
“Fuck!” Levi’s dick throbbed in my hand, and he exploded all over his dark blue shirt—and I mean exploded, thick streams shooting as high as his shoulder.
It was a serious thing, an orgasm, but I felt like laughing the second he stopped desecrating his poor dress shirt. Oh God. Look at him.
Breathing hard, Levi looked down to check the damage. “Wow. That’s, ah…”
“Impressive.” I took my hand off him and bit my lip. “Got any napkins in here?”
He glanced at me. “Are you laughing at me?”
I tried to keep a straight face. Tried like eighty percent hard, maybe even ninety. “No.”
“Christ, you’re as bad a liar as I am.” He grimaced but he was half-laughing too. “Check the glovebox. I might have something in there.”
I opened the glovebox. Maps. A sunglasses case. A plastic dinosaur. “Nope. No napkins.”
“Fuuuuuck.” Levi looked down at his shirt, and his dismayed expression was so funny to me, I completely dissolved into giggles.
“Thanks a lot,” he said wryly. “This is all your fault, you know. Here I am taking you out on a nice, classy outing, courting you properly, and you caused a big mess. Are you even the least bit sorry?”
“No. Oh my God, that shirt…” I put my hands over my stomach, which hurt from laughter. “It’s everywhere. It was like dynamite or something.”
“It was all you.”
“Um, I’m not sure I want the blame for that splatter-painted shirt.”
He gave me a menacing look. “Looking for birthday spankings early, little girl?”
I gasped. “You wouldn’t.”
He smiled and kept his focus on the road.
The look on her face when I threatened to spank her was hilarious—part scared, part intrigued, part wondering if I was teasing her.
I wasn’t. I had plans for tonight.
But fucking hell. What was I going to wear? I had a couple extra t-shirts in my bag, which would actually be fine for food and drinks at the Journeyman Distillery, but she didn’t know that.
I decided to play with her a little. “I need a new shirt. We’ll have to find somewhere to buy one.”
“Seriously? Let me look in my bag. Maybe I have some tissues.” She scooped up her purse from the floor and set it in her lap.
“Tissues? I need a shop-vac for this shirt. Fuck tissues.”
“Oh, come on. Here.” She took a girly little packet of Kleenex from her bag and pulled one out, fluffing it up. “Let me try.”
“I can do it.” I reached for the tissue, but she held it away from me.
“I’ll do it. It was my fault, like you said.”
She bit her lip like she was concentrating hard, but swiping at the jizz on my shirt with one piece of Kleenex was like trying to soak up Lake Michigan with a cotton ball.
“Maybe I need two,” she said, and her expression was so adorably serious, I wanted to fucking pull over just to make out with her. Tell her I loved her face. Tell her how goddamn happy I was right now, ruined shirt and all. When had I last fooled around like this with a woman?
“Forget it, babe. I’ll buy a new shirt. It’s fine. I’m sure the place we’re going isn’t that dressy.”
“Oh. OK.” She took a couple more swipes at my shirt with a clean tissue but eventually gave up. “I feel bad now.”