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“Eww.” I’m sure my face gives away how disgusting and revolting this challenge is.
“Exactly. And because it’s chocolate milk it’s thicker.”
“My God, these kids come up with some crazy stuff.”
“Yeah, but I’d rather see them do something like this, where the worst that’ll happen is a little vomiting, than other challenges you hear about on social media.”
“Very true,” I quickly agree, recalling how deadly the laundry pod challenge that went around for a while turned out to be.
“Anyway, are you ready for game two?”
“Sure, but you know, maybe we should do our own bet?” I suggest.
“Yeah? What do you want if you win?” he asks as our pizza and drinks are delivered.
“If I win, I get to drive your truck home. Oh, and I get to pick our next date location.”
“Fine,” he replies, sliding a piece of pizza onto a plate and pushing it toward me.
When he doesn’t tell me his terms of our bet, I finally ask, “What do you want?”
He looks up, his eyes darkening into molten pools as he licks his lips. “I want second base, El.”
My thighs clench and my nipples pebble against my bra. My tongue is so thick, I can barely speak, but somehow, I get out that single word. “Deal.”
“Thank you for another lovely night,” I say, releasing my seat belt and turning to face TD.
“You’re welcome.” He sits perfectly still.
On the other side of the truck cab.
Since our second game, he hasn’t mentioned the bet, or when he plans to collect his winnings. The thought of feeling his hands on me, sliding under my sweater, and cupping my breasts has had me hot and bothered since the first ball he threw. It was a strike, as were five more of them. He didn’t just win the game. He cremated me.
Now, we’re sitting in his truck—which he drove back to Pine Village, mind you, since he won the bet—and he’s clear over on the other side. Except for basic hand-holding, with our hands resting on the console, he hasn’t made one move to collect his winnings. Not that I expected him to try while driving down the road, but I did think there might be a little more touching.
“You’re all the way over there,” I whisper, the words sounding hesitant and unsure.
“I am.”
“Why?”
“Because if I move any closer, I’m going to pull you onto my lap and kiss you until neither of us can breathe.”
Yes, please!
“That doesn’t sound so terrible,” I mumble, my cheeks already heating from a blush.
“Is that what you want, El? Do you want me to kiss you?”
“Yes.” My response is breathy and a plea.
He releases his own seat belt and pushes the console up. His hands reach for me at the same time I move in his direction, eliminating the space between us. When I’m on his lap, his mouth finds mine, hot and urgent. Our tongues dance as our lips crash together. My hands grab for his hair, while his rest on my hips. I want to beg, to rock my hips against his growing erection, to throw caution to the wind and just…feel.
I move my hands to his Henley and slide them beneath the material. His skin is hot and smooth beneath my fingertips and all I want to do is continue my exploration.
“Ellie?”
“Yes?” I whisper against his lips.
