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“Yes.”
“Just kissing?”
“No.”
I blushed, and he broke into a smile as he watched me to do so, his eyes eventually wandering about my body.
“This is cruel, what you do. You know that right?” he asked while gazing at my thighs.
“You do the same to me.”
“What am I doing?” Aaron challenged.
“Making me want to get out of here.”
“We could.”
“We can’t,” I corrected, explaining simply with, “Kelsey.”
Aaron let out a groan that turned the heads of the women in the bar. “Come back to my house with me,” he finally said. “I’ll drive you.”
“To Woodhill?” I blurted. “Aaron…”
“It’s late,” he murmured quietly, perhaps suddenly aware of the women watching him. “You won’t be seen.”
“Aaron, there has to be another solution.” My voice was breathy and nearing a plea thanks to our dilemma. It felt as if we were on the bridge again, both desperately wanting one another but with no place to go for relief.
“Come to Woodhill,” Aaron asserted in a way that made it hard for me to say no. But I couldn’t imagine it — sleeping in Aaron’s bed just minutes away from my parents’ house, from the houses of all the nosey Woodhillers.
I stared ahead. It was tempting. And I did want it, but it felt so wrong. “You guys are up one,” I mumbled faintly.
Aaron’s face was quizzical for a moment before he registered and looked up at the TV screen. The Yankees were up by a run in the bottom of the ninth, the Mets at bat with two outs and a runner in scoring position. I felt Aaron’s hand touch my thigh as we turned our attention to the game. With the first strike of the batter, his palm pressed down to my knee, giving it a tantalizing squeeze. It returned to my thigh with the second strike, his gentle strokes sending ripples of chills up my legs.
And with the third strikeout, he celebrated only by giving my inner thigh a hard squeeze, prompting a burst of electric shivers between my legs.
“Okay,” I breathed. “Let’s go to Woodhill.”
CHAPTER 13
It was probably wrong to tease him in the car, but I couldn’t help it and I wasn’t really doing it on purpose. It was just that everything about the way he drove was a turn on — the way he leaned back in the driver’s seat with that bare forearm draped over the top of the wheel, the way he sat with his legs far apart and of course, the way his free hand stroked my thigh. It rubbed small circles above my knee, working its way up and claiming more and more of my breath until I could no longer contain the urge to relieve the aching between my legs. Swatting his hand away, I reclined in the passenger’s seat, exhaling a quivering breath as I felt my own fingers relieve the throbbing.
“Oh, come on,” Aaron pleaded, doing a decent job of keeping his eyes on the road despite knowing where my hands were. I watched him, smirking when he finally gave himself a half-second peek of me while approaching our exit on the highway. Though after that peek, it was as if he’d broken the seal and couldn’t stop looking with urgency, his lips parted, his eyes darting about me as I swiveled my hips against my own touch. The moment we hit a red light, I felt his fingers grab a handful of hair above the nape of my neck. “Come here,” he growled before leaning over my seat and closing his mouth over mine, taking his arm off the wheel to let his other hand grope my breast through my shirt.
“Green,” I gasped when the light changed, something I’d only noticed because of the honking behind us. Aaron cursed as he ripped himself away from me, his hand withdrawing from my breast to readjust his package before he began driving again. “We’re here,” I realized, glancing out the window just in time to see the gold letters that shone through the dark night on the massive, wooden sign that read Welcome to Woodhill. Upon turning and seeing the suddenly tense look in Aaron’s eye, I decided to distract him from his worries.
“Oh, come on, Nina…” Aaron’s fingers curled as I brought his free hand to my body again, slipping it under my T-shirt. “Wait one more minute…”
Enjoying his tormented look, I ignored him, especially when I remembered what he’d done to me in the hallway of my apartment building.
“Nina… don’t do this to me…”
I had my hand over his, guiding it beneath the cup of my bra so that he held a handful of my bare breast.
“Come on…” Despite his pleading, he squeezed hard. “Fuck,” he cursed, his voice hoarse. As he fondled me, I noticed his car passing my street. It was past midnight at this point and most houses had their lights off, hopefully because everyone had gone to bed.
“Is this it?” I panted my question as Aaron turned into a back road of smaller homes that I’d either never seen before or driven past once or twice in my life.
“Yes.”
