The grimace appears again. “We have an appointment, remember? At the frame shop.”
I slouch against the car. “Oh right.”
“I mean, we could reschedule?” His eyes bore into mine, the appointment increasingly becoming less important. He presseshis hips against me with a little more force, letting me know what he’s thinking. I’m thinking it too, until I hear laugher on the street that cuts off abruptly. We both glance over and see Isabel and Jessica.
I tense and Nick, knowing how I’m struggling, releases me, but it’s probably too late.
“Hey Summer! Hey Nick!” I hear Jessica shout. We both wave innocently and there’s no mistaking the narrowing of Isabel’s eyes as she takes in our position. They flick lower and I look where she’s looking, and shit.
There’s no mistaking Nick’s tented pants.
They keep walking and when they’re gone, he raises an eyebrow.
“I can’t believe they saw that,” I groan.
“You make me hard, what can I say.”
“Oh my god. I thought you would have some decorum.”
He laughs. “Did you just say decorum? God, you are flustered.”
“I’m not flustered.”
“You’re cute when you’re panicky.”
“I’m not panicky.” I’m totally sweating and more than a little bit aroused. My heart hammers in my chest and it’s lost between the fear of being caught and what I’m starting to recognize as the thrill of getting caught.
Maybe I’m the one with the problem.
Despite my conflict, I make eye contact with Nick and bite my lip. Without another word I get into the passenger seat of his truck. It’s an older truck, with a bench seat and wide, circular steering wheel. When I get in, I slide over and run my hand down his leg, coming back up until I feel the hard, bulge in his pants.
“So, you know the more times you do that, the harder it makes it for me to settle down, right?”
“What if I don’t want you to settle down right now?”
“This is pretty public and we have an appointment.”
I don’t let him sway me and truth be told, there’s not much conviction in his voice. I reach for the zipper on his pants, lowering it slowly. Nick watches me closely, like he’s afraid to move. Slipping my hand into his pants I feel him, warm, solid, hard. He exhales at my touch.
“Summer…”
I look up at him, thumb stroking his length.
“If you think you have to prove something to me or?—”
I lean over and kiss him. His fingers thread into my hair.
“This isn’t about proving something to you. It’s about…well, I want to. Okay?”
He nods and I lick my lips, eliciting a rumble from his chest. I bend over and take the first tentative lick, then another more thoroughly. His hand clenches in my hair, but he allows me to set the pace.
“Shit,” he says, as I take him in whole. “Someone’s c-coming.”
That stutter twists my belly into a tight, addictive, knot.
“Well, then you better keep a straight face, because I’m not going to stop.”
And I don’t. I keep pleasuring him and his breathing settles, restrained but fully aroused. His fingers tighten against my head and I hear him clench the steering wheel.
