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"Home, if you don't mind."
"Of course not."
The drive was silent, except for her directions. My stomach was in knots every turn closer to her house. I wanted to turn the car around. I wanted to take her home with me. I didn't want to let her go after I'd just gotten her.
"Sorry my house is way out here," she mumbled.
"Not a problem," I said, trying to keep my voice from giving away my true emotions.
Trees shrouded the car as I took the final turn, my car bouncing on the long dirt road. Plumes of dust flew up around the tires, but at the very end of the road was a small trailer. I pulled up in front of it, looking at all the junk in the overgrown yard.
A small riding lawn mower, rusted over and out of use, was off to one side, the grass growing between the tires and up through the engine. Random items were tossed and abandoned in the yard, like someone had dropped a beer can and immediately forgot they'd done so.
The trailer was even more rundown than the rest of the property, with its dirty off-white paint peeling off the sides, and a screen door with a hole punched through. The porch sagged in the middle, and the entire thing looked ready to cave in at any moment.
Silence hung in the car, and neither of us said anything. Winnie let me take in her dilapidated home, and I tried not to look at her pitifully. This was where she lived? I'd expected something else. Something...more.
"Thanks for the ride," she said softly, sounding ashamed. Unspoken words, unasked questions buzzed between us, but neither of us said a word. I wanted to reach out, to stop her from leaving, but I held myself back.
I wanted her to be the one to reach out this time. I wanted her to come to me. That way, when I was buried deep inside her, she had no one to blame but herself.
"I had fun today," I told her. She kept her gaze on the floorboard, refusing to look at me. "Thank you for going with me."
"Thanks for inviting me." She reached for the door handle, but I didn't want her to go. I didn't want to stop talking to her, to stop smelling her sweet scent.
"Would you like to help me set everything up?" I blurted, and she paused.
I braced myself for her rejection, for her to tell me it would be inappropriate—fuck, I hated that word. She glanced at me over her shoulder, those eyes of hers shrouded in sadness. I wanted to take it away. I wanted to make her happy again and wanted to see her pretty smile.
"I'm sorry, Winnie." Her head tilted to the side in a silent question, and I cleared my throat. "If I made you uncomfortable. That was never my intention."
How many times had I said those exact words? And how many times had those same students come back to me, falling to their knees and filling their mouths with my cock? Too many to count. Too many to remember.
But she was the only one who mattered—the only one I desperately wanted to crawl back to me.
"You didn't," she murmured. I hesitated before leaning toward her, resting my arm on the center console. Her eyes dropped to my lips, and the look in her eyes shifted. Hunger filled them, chasing away the sadness. They lifted, and our gaze locked.
"Winnie," I rasped. I slid my hand closer, brushing my fingertips along the outside of her thigh. Her breath hitched, her eyes fluttering shut as I toyed with the hem of her dress.
"We can't." Her words were barely audible, like she didn't want to say them.
"There's something about you," I admitted, keeping my voice low. Her chest heaved, and, like a magnetic pull, she leaned closer to me, her gaze now burning into mine.
"There's something about you, too."
Her warm breath ghosted against my skin, sending violent shivers down my spine. My cock throbbed in its cage, and the urge to rip it off and let her see the full length of me was overwhelming. The thought of sliding inside her wet heat was too much, and I felt precum leak from my tip. I wanted her to stare at the outline of my cock in my jeans and fantasize about it stretching her, about me filling her up.
"We can keep it our little secret," I murmured, my voice a low rasp. Her tongue darted out to wet her lower lip, and I couldn't tear my gaze away from the movement. "Just between us."
"Just between us," she echoed, her voice as thick with desire as mine.
"That's right. A secret." I slid my hand beneath her dress, my fingers wrapping around the warm skin of her inner thigh. "Spread your legs for me."
Her eyes widened at my words. "I—I don't know?—"
"It's okay, little fawn. Just open your legs."
As if out of her control, her legs drifted apart, and I slid my hand higher. My fingers brushed along her panties, and I smiled at the wetness soaking through them. "That's a good girl. So wet for me, aren't you? Have you been wet all day?"
