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“Of course! Yes! Come in!” I yelled, unlocking the doors.
He hopped around the front of the car to the passenger side, opened the door and plopped down next to me, sending a spray of water in my direction.
“I’m such an idiot,” he said, grinning. “I can’t believe I locked my keys in my truck! With my coat inside. And no cell service. And it’s fucking cold out.” He placed his open palms directly on the dashboard heat vents. “Every fantasy, I fuck something up.”
The rain was finally letting up a bit.
“Well?” he said, rubbing his hands furiously.
“Well what?”
“The Step … do you accept it? I know I probably don’t look too savory, so if you’re reconsidering, I’d totally understand.”
He was wrong about that. I was not reconsidering. I had noticed the way his jeans draped around his lean hips, and how his wet shirt clung to a well-formed torso covered in tattoos. Not my type, normally, but there was something so damn sweet about this guy. And he was funny. Whoever really loved him was in a lot of trouble.
I could hear his teeth chattering. “You’re really cold.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Okay. I accept the Step, at the very least to help you get warm.”
“Thank fucking god. Whooo. Okay. Crank that heat higher. I need to get my circulation going before I lay my hands on you.”
Alrighty then.
“This was supposed to be a lot sexier. There was this whole gas station seduction thing that was supposed to happen. GPS lady was about to warn you that you were on empty, right—?”
I looked at the gas gauge and sure enough it was on empty.
“And when you pulled up to the gas station up near Mandeville and noticed that your wallet was missing, I was going to offer to pay and …”
“My wallet?”
“Don’t worry. Matilda has your wallet. She took it at the restaurant. And you’re not on empty. I messed around with the gauge. But then the fucking tire blew. And that wasn’t in the plans! Speaking of which—pop the trunk,” he said, suddenly turning efficient. “You have a coat?”
He opened the glove compartment while I fished in the back seat for my trench.
“Yesss!” he exclaimed. “In the history of the fucking world, this might be the first time a pair of gloves is actually found in the glove compartment. Sit here, sweetheart. When I’m done with that tire, I’m gonna start in on you. Trust me. This fantasy ain’t over.”
He was adorable. It took him less than ten minutes to change the tire, and he insisted I stay warm in the car. When he finished, he found Handi Wipes under the front seat and scrubbed his fingers before rubbing his hands vigorously in front of the vents again.
“Done. Drive. I’m your GPS now, darlin’. Just go slow. I need to warm up more.”
I threw the car into drive and peeled away from the shoulder. He leaned towards me again, his hand heading straight for my knee. I shuddered, not from repulsion, but from the chill. Poor guy! He began firmly rubbing his hand up and down my inner thighs, stealing heat for himself and creating it for me.
“You are hot in many, many ways,” he murmured.
Next, his fingers found the edge of my underwear, and I gasped. He stopped, waiting for a sign from me, his mouth at my ear. I squirmed, wordlessly shifting so he could inch his fingers under the elastic.
Yes.
“Ever wonder what it would be like to have an orgasm while going sixty-five miles per hour?” he whispered.
“Is that even possible?”
“Anything’s possible in this car. With me.”
He reached down between my legs and pushed
