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I climb into the backseat while he puts down the front seats so that they don’t obscure the view, and then we get comfortable. He wraps his arms around me, cushioning me against his broad form. I feel happier than ever and sigh with delight. We snack, cuddle, and joke about the movie. I really am having the time of my life.
And then, just as I’m in the middle of a terrific fit of laughter after seeing Chunk shake his flappy belly on screen, Shane leans in and kisses me. I’m caught off guard, but it’s truly a magical kiss. I know we already had sex, but this is different. Last week was a night of raw passion and desire. We were attracted to each other physically and it was a night of powerful lust. But this kiss is different. This kiss feels like something more. After all, we’ve gotten to know each other on a deeper level tonight, and this kiss has emotion imbued in it.
He softly pulls his lips just inches from mine and both of our eyes open to meet. He gently strokes my cheek with his calloused thumb and pushes my hair behind my ear. Then, Shane leans back in and kisses me more intensely this time, pulling me in by the back of my neck.
I think about all the people around us at the drive-in and try to murmur in protest, but he senses that I don’t really want to stop and delves even further into my mouth with his tongue. I practically melt. It takes every ounce of my willpower to stop kissing him, but I make myself pull away.
“Shane, people can see,” I whisper, my body hot with desire. He smiles at me fondly and gently strokes my hair again. But then, he leans forward and presses a button near the front seat. The windows darken and I realize the Range Rover has special tinted windows.
“Now we’re alone,” he says in a hoarse voice. Pulling the blanket off, he crawls towards me once more and we begin passionately kissing again. This time, I give in, my arousal rising to great heights. My body’s open, willing and wet, and when he sinks deep into my sweetest spot, I let out an ecstatic cry, filled to the brim by this man. I want him, and it doesn’t matter that he’s my dad’s best friend.
9
Lucy
Stepping into the dormitory shower, I pull the plastic curtain closed behind me and crank the handle left. I let the scalding water pour over me, easing every muscle in my neck, shoulders, and back. I slide my hands through my hair, turning my face up into the spray. Nothing feels better than a hot shower.
I have been in an amazing mood all week because things are going really well with Shane. He’s picking me up in an hour for a surprise date and I am beyond excited. I have no idea where he’s taking me but I’m sure it will be something amazing. So far, the billionaire bachelor has proven to be really good at this whole dating thing.
I reflect on the night at the drive-in while squeezing coconut scented body wash out of my bright pink loofah, sending it oozing down my silky skin. I watch the soap suds bubble up around my feet amid the rushing water. In my mind’s eye, I see Shane reaching forward to darken the windows of the Range Rover again, giving us privacy. I can almost feel him on top of me once more, his big body churning as he pounds me like a machine. I tease myself with the thought of him being in the shower with me, of him being the one rubbing coconut wash on my body.
I let out a soft whimper of delight, yearning for the alpha male. Is it always like this? I’ve never felt so in love, and so entranced by a man before.
But a girl’s got to get to class, so reluctantly, I turn off the water and step out from behind the curtain, a soft smile on my lips.
On my way back to my room, my phone begins to ring with a special windchime melody. Assuming it’s Shane or Rose, I stop to dig through my bag but then halt. The screen says something it hasn’t in a long time; it says “Mom.”
My mother only bothers to call once or twice a year now because frankly, she’s having too much fun to be concerned about her family. I know Nicole still cares, but she’s pretty lousy at showing it. Every once in a while though, she gets sentimental. Or nostalgic. Maybe even emotional. Whichever it is, it makes her call me. The conversation usually starts with and ends in tears. It’s usually Nicole crying in the beginning, and me by the end. But every once in a while, she likes to switch things up.
