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“What the hell kind of hint is that?” I demanded while brushing out my hair.
I had to run my fingers through it to remove some of the static so it didn’t look like I’d stuck my finger into a light socket. Fair haired girl problems.
He swept into the bathroom, pressing his chest to my back in a smooth movement. One hand lifted to squeeze a breast and the other dropped to the swell between my thighs, cupping gently, but with enough vigor to send a potent shot of arousal through my limbs.
“You look incredible. You smell incredible,” he mumbled into my ear, nipping the lobe before dropping kisses down my neck.
I squirmed in his grip, chest pressed further into his palm, my head tilting to give him more room to drag his lips across my skin. And was that…cologne? Was my big, tough, no-fuss Marine wearing cologne?
“You smell good, too,” I murmured, loving the way his big hand could cup the entirety of my breast.
Damn padded bra made it so I couldn’t feel each individual finger though. I should just get naked.
“Let’s skip going out,” I enticed, managing to shove my rear back into his crotch.
He made a soft moan as his fingers between my thighs tightened, which tore a groan from my own lips. That sinful mouth of his opened, teeth biting down on my neck just enough to feel the prick of them, then he retreated.
“Not a chance,” he told me, meeting my devastated eyes in the mirror as he backed away from me with a proper boner going on.
“You can’t leave a girl with a lady boner,” I complained, gripping the countertop because my back suddenly felt cold without him and my knees were fucking weak.
“Sooner we get there, the sooner I can fuck you six ways to Sunday. But not until we get there,” he promised, leaving the bathroom again.
Fuck him and his unending well of self-control.
I was cursing up a blue streak for him, the Marines, and the Raiders by the time I finished slathering some lipstick on and throwing my hair in a topknot. Then, a wicked thought came to me.
Stopping by my nightstand, I grabbed my good-old reliable bullet massager and tucked that into my purse. If he wouldn’t fuck me, then I’d fuck myself.
With a summer dress hanging from my shoulders and face and hair ready for whatever lay ahead of us, I joined him in the front room where he waited by the door with our weekend bags.
“Ready?” he asked.
I just breezed by him out the door and down to the Firebird.
“You’re really going to be pissed at me because I’m making you wait to come?” he called a little too loudly as he threw our bags into the trunk.
“Who said anything about waiting?” I answered cryptically. As soon as we had some privacy on the road, I was going to get busy.
A tiny niggling in the back of my head told me that he was taking me back to Huntington Beach. It made all sorts of sense, and of course, that would be romantic. I was just incredibly impatient.
We hit the road and traffic was pretty thick at first. The first hour passed in relative silence with just some classic rock coming from the old radio. Finally, miles out of Vegas, the road cleared up and it was just us and only dots of the other cars on the road.
Showtime.
Slowly, I inched up my dress, and at first he didn’t notice, being the good boy he was, he kept his eyes on the road, singing along to ‘Hotel California’ on the radio. I dug the little bullet out of my bag and pulled my underwear to the side and…oh yeah.
The sigh that left my lips caught his attention, and I watched his head turn once, then double take, eyes focusing on the movement by my crotch.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he asked with a laugh. I hiked up my thigh and spread my legs until one was brushing his hand on the shifter.
“You wouldn’t give me an orgasm, so I’m gifting one to myself,” I managed.
No, it wasn’t as good as him, and yes, I missed the full feeling of him inside me, but it would do a decent job of cutting the edge off until I could jump him once we reached California, because yeah, we were definitely heading to California.
“You’re un-fucking-believable,” he murmured as my hips bucked into the little buzzing machine. No shame, I was masturbating right in front of my boyfriend and didn’t give a single shit.
I was building, focusing on the feeling as his hand drifted from the gear stick to gliding down the inside of my thigh. The sensitive skin responded immediately to his touch, and another noise burst out of my mouth.
