AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Whoever invented bench seats in trucks got shit right. They must have made them for guys just waiting to score. For make-out sessions and for horny teenagers who wanted to get out from under their parent’s ever watchful, disapproving eyes. The truck might have been a piece of shit, but that bench seat was worth its weight in gold.
Alex shifted on the seat, inching his way towards Muffy. She leaned left, towards him. Maybe she meant to do it. Maybe she was just trying to get a better view of the stars. Whatever the reason, it got her within reach. It might have been old-school, but Alex slipped an arm behind Muffy’s shoulders. He was careful not to touch her, even if the leather of his jacket did brush the back of hers.
Just that small movement, combined with Muffy’s scent filling up the truck, sent a rush of blood flowing straight to his cock. His pulse jumped to life, hammering hard at the side of his neck. His insides turned into a pile of mush, and what the hell? His insides weren’t supposed to be anything close to mush. He wasn’t a sappy kind of guy. He wasn’t sentimental. Hell, he wasn’t even one for emotion.
So, what the hell was happening to him?
If this was just about the bet, then he was happy to comply, but his body’s reaction to Muffy was just completely… strange. He tried to form a coherent thought but found that his cock had actually funneled all the blood away from his brain. Thoughts weren’t happening at the moment. It felt like his damn brain had taken a permanent vacation.
Before he even fully realized what he was doing, he had a hand threaded through Muffy’s thick hair. Dear God, her hair. She must use the world’s best shampoo because it didn’t feel like regular hair between his fingers. It felt like espresso colored silk.
He was going to kiss her senseless. Maybe she’d join him since he already appeared to be there. He was already planning on how he was going to be completely ruthless. How he wanted to bruise her lips. How kissing her was going to be unforgettable.
Muffy whipped her head around, just as he went in for the kill. He angled too far the wrong way and maybe she was taken by surprise, or maybe she was as eager as he was because it was suddenly hot in the truck and the damn windows were fogging up, because she arched into him at the same time.
Either way, he was definitely out of practice, because he missed his mark by a mile.
Muffy’s cheek slammed into his nose and pain exploded violently along the bridge of it, sending a flurry of stars dancing in front of his vision. She tried to correct at the same time he went to pull away and her forehead slammed into his nose again, bashing the same part she’d hit him before. The explosion of raw sensation that ripped up his nose was nothing short of agonizing. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in so much pain.
“Argh,” he mumbled, as his hand flew up to his nose to check for blood.
“Oh my god,” Muffy wailed. She pulled back and her hand shot out and landed on his cheek. She turned his face, inspecting him for damage. “Oh no. I’m so sorry. I… oh damn it. This is really embarrassing. Now you’re going to be the one who wants to get out of here and go home and call all of your friends and tell them what a clumsy dork you had to take out.”
Even though his eyes were pretty damn close to watering and his nose throbbed and burned and he could taste blood at the back of his throat, he had to laugh. It was one of those hoarse, painful kind of chuckles, because it would hurt too much to full-on laugh.
“If I have a set of shiners for work, I’m going to tell them that I went on a date with a lady who had fists like clubs and that her idea of a good time was beating me for making a bad joke.”
“Oh, I think boxing would be better.” Muffy’s cheeks were bright red, but she still made the effort to smile.
He liked that. That she wasn’t afraid to laugh at herself.
“Boxing?”
“Yeah. You could say you went on a date with an ex-lady boxer. I don’t really know how that stuff works, but you could say you went over to her house and she had trophies on her shelves. She wanted to get busy, but you weren’t interested and when you tried to make an escape, she clocked you a good one.”
“Oh my god. I am not going to say that. I’d be handing in my man-card, big time.”
