The door to the bowling alley opens. People exiting in a cloud of chatter, stunning us both back into the here and now, where we’re making out in a bowling alley parking lot.
“Hop in, climb over,” I say. “I’ll drive us somewhere more private.”
She drops her head to my chest for a few seconds, catching her breath before she climbs in, digging out her fob to start up the rig.
“Where are you taking me?”
“There’s a spot off the highway. A lookout.”
“Your teenage make-out spot?”
“Yes, actually,” I say with a smirk.
“Is it where you lost your virginity?”
“Yes, actually,” I say, laughing harder in my embarrassment. I was seventeen, and between me and Dana Larson, our parents were home too often to have any privacy in a bed. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. I think it’s cute you want to fuck me in a memorable spot.”
Holy shit.
“Who said anything about fucking?” I ask.
“Juliet, I guess.” She grins. “But I don’t think I could agree to a second date if you beat me miserably at bowling and didn’t at least give me an orgasm afterward.”
This is a new piece of Lou. Another layer has been shed, exposing another protected layer to her. Like every other piece, I like this one a lot.
“Just one?”
“Ooh, are you an overachiever, Grady?”
“With sex? Yes, Lou. Give me about three more minutes and I’ll show you just how much of one I am.” She toes her boots off, leaving them to lie haphazardly on the floorboards. Then, she unbuttons and unzips her jeans. “If I wreck your pretty new truck, it will be your fault.”
“Drive safely,” she says. “You already owe me an orgasm. Let’s not add a truck to your bill.”
She shoves her hand down her pants, and we both groan as I take the last turn into the small strip of vacant land that leads to a parking area above the bluff. As soon as the truck is shut off, we’re unbuckling our seat belts and colliding over the center console.
Mouths crash, our tongues dueling for dominance. Neither of us giving in, just giving. Her fingers grasp at either side of my head as if I’m the only thing anchoring this unearthly woman to this world. Clumsily, I unbutton her blouse, finding the thinnest lace below, hard nipples poking through.
“Back seat,” I say, pulling away a half inch. Lou releases my hair, brushing her own out of her face. I watch every move, looking for any sign of distress. There’s nothing there but desire. “Back seat.”
She exits the passenger door, standing outside the truck, and while looking in, she pulls her shirt off, tossing it inside. Her jeans follow, revealing that her panties are the same pale lace as her fragile bra. She bends over to pull her socks off and does a little dance while claiming the ground is cold, before she rushes to the back door.
I don’t realize I haven’t moved until the door shuts behind her.
“Shit,” I say, coming out of my daze. I strip down and move from the front to the back. When I do, I find her lounging with one knee propped up, like she’s been waiting for me for hours rather than minutes.
“Kiss me,” she demands again. Lunging in, I press my lips to hers, but she pushes me away with a wide smile. “That’s not how I meant.”
My eyes narrow at her mischievousness.
“Anything I should know before we do this?”
“You mean, like how I’m ridiculously flexible or do I have triggers and limits?”
“Both,” I say, ignoring her playfulness, though storing that information for later. Right now, I need to know if there was something he did to her that I need to be sensitive to.
“I’ve yet to find a limit,” she says, dropping her gaze. When she looks up at me, shame washes over her. “I like things I probably shouldn’t.”
