Page 82 of Lars


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She burst out laughing. “Wow. Okay – um, can you at least wait until we get to the hotel?”

“No promises.”

She laughed again. “Then let’s get out of here quick. Is that your only luggage?”

“Yes.”

“Then let’s go.”

Somehow I managed to keep my hands to myself as she drove us out of Heathrow in her Audi sedan.

Well… mostly to myself. I rubbed my hand along her bare leg almost continuously, as though to reassure myself that she was real, that she was actually here.

We exchanged a few pleasantries. She asked me how the flight was and I told her Gunnar said hello.

We’d just left the airport when she said, “You’ve got to stop touching me.”

I looked at her in surprise. “Why?”

“Because it’s driving me wild and I can’t think straight.”

I laughed. “Now you know how I’ve been feeling the last three months.”

“I’m serious, Lars – you’ve got to stop, or I’m going to pull over the car right now.”

“Well, then, I’m definitely not stopping. In fact, I’m going to go… even… further.”

I slid my hand up between her thighs…

And got quite the shock.

My fingers touched bare skin.

She wasn’t wearing underwear… and she was drenched.

“Holy shit,” I murmured.

She grinned. “That was supposed to be your ‘welcome home’ surprise.”

“Well, it was definitely a surprise, and I definitely feel welcomed home.”

I let my finger trace across her wet lips… softly searching for…

There.

“Oh fuck,” she whispered as I found her clit and lightly stroked it.

The car suddenly screeched across two lanes of traffic and headed for the nearest exit.

“Whoa!” I exclaimed with a laugh. “Okay, I’ll stop – ”

“Don’t you dare stop,” she ordered.

So I kept lightly caressing her clit as she roared along the street towards a multi-story garage for long-term airport parking.

She grabbed the ticket at the automated gate and sped into the building.

As she drove up the levels, I continued to stroke her clit… although a little bit firmer and faster now.

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