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“Nothing,” I say.
“Bullshit,” he retorts. “You have that look on your face.”
“I’m just picturing what you’re wearing under those jeans…”
He smirks at me. “You find it hot when I wear women’s underwear, don’t you?”
I gasp. “I do not…well, maybe a little,” I admit.
It’s a kink I never even knew I had.
“Guess I’m dirtier than I gave myself credit for,” I say, shrugging. I glance down and laugh. “Look how hard you are,” I tease. “It’s the undies, right? The way that Lace is rubbing on your balls is really doing it for you?”
“Or maybe it’s just the fact that you’re so into it that’s making me hard,” he suggests.
“Then maybe I should do something about it.” I give him a sly grin.
“Like wh—”
His eyes widen when it becomes apparent to him—and any passing trucks, exactly what I have in mind. I reach over and lower his zipper, then I slide my hand around his cock and help it spring out.
“What are you doing,” he asks nervously.
“Do I really need to spell this for you?” I tease.
I loosen my seatbelt, so I’m angled on my side, then I lean back over and slide my fist along his shaft. He grunts, gripping the wheel so tightly his fingers are white.
“What’s wrong?” I grin. “My belt is still on, so I’m being safe.”
I lean over, wrapping my lips around his cock, using one hand to grasp his balls and also help me keep balance. He groans as I slide my mouth up and down his shaft, sucking him hard. I roll my tongue around his shaft, sliding my lips along his length. I smile when I feel his hand on my head, forcing me to take him deeper down my throat.
“God,” he grunts, sliding my head down over his cock, forcing me to suck faster.
I massage his balls as I roll my lips all the way down to his base, then slowly slide back up to his tip, teasing him until he can’t take anymore.
“Fuck,” he hisses, his hips jerking forward.
He groans, holding my head down as he releases, shooting his load into my mouth while I swallow, sucking him hard until he pushes me away. I sit back up, smirking at him. He looks over at me and laughs, his expression dazed. He shakes his head and laughs again.
“Holy fuck,” he murmurs. “Where the hell did that come from?”
I grin and settle back against the seat.
“What can I say? I’m spontaneous.”Startled, I look around, my eyes finally resting on Cam. He smiles at me.
“Was I asleep?” I ask.
“If the snoring is anything to go by, then yes,” he chuckles.
I scowl at him, because I don’t snore. But then I remember earlier and my mood lifts. He glances at me, like, his expression strained, like he’s thinking about my lips on his cock, too. Part of me wants to skip the festival and just go back to the hotel, but the rest of me is dying to see his face when we walk into this place. I googled it before while I was waiting for him to pick me up and let’s just say, it was nothing like I was expecting.
“Getting changed?” I ask him when he stops the car.
“Of course,” he nods, his dark eyes twinkling. “I even brought something extra special for tonight,” he adds.
He climbs over the back, while I turn around to watch. I burst out laughing as he squeezes into a short, silver, sequined dress, maneuvering it over his hips like an expert.
“Very cute,” I say. I lean over and kiss him, then I kiss him again, this time letting my mouth linger against his. I smile, because it’s definitely kind of hot kissing him dressed like this…
“Shall we go get Weird As Fuck?” he grins.
I throw my head back and laugh.
“Let’s go.”Chapter FifteenCameronI glance at Darcy, the smile on her face is enough to warm my heart—
I stop, disgusted with myself. What the fuck is happening to me? Since when do I use phrases like warm my heart? I catch my reflection in the mirror and laugh at the sight of the shimmery silver dress I’m wearing, because a few feminine phrases are the least of my problems right now.
Darcy giggles. “Look, that woman has on the same dress as you.”
I look where she’s pointing, right at the same moment the chick in the matching dress looks at me. We share an awkward moment where we both just stand there, looking uncomfortable, both of us trying to decide who’s wearing it better. She quickly moves off, so I claim that as a victory, obviously.
“I hate it when I’m wearing the same dress as someone else,” Darcy jokes.
“I know,” I agree. “It happened to me last year—the bride was so upset they kicked me out of the wedding,” I quip.
