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“Thank you,” she says, I get behind the wheel and she gives me curious eyes.
“D…don’t m…mention it,” I stammer, and I put the car in drive. I hope the hard-on I’m sporting doesn’t light up her radar. She doesn’t need to know what our little pissing contest does to me.
Luckily, she is staring out the window when I take a right.
“So, we have some time to kill before we get there, what do you wanna listen to?” I ask, shifting gears and flexing my fingers.
“Anything eighties rock,” she says, that smile of hers is a mile wide.
“Good choice,” I say, changing the station to some Pearl Jam tune.
“Do you know where the mall is?” she asks, grabbing her phone from her bag.
“Yeah, been there once or twice. You know, babe, I have a life outside of riding my bike up and down the track.” I wink at her.
“I never said you didn’t.”
Tapping my fingers on the steering wheel, I listen to Skid Row singing about remembering some long lost love. Damn, my mind immediately wanders to the days I spent strung out looking to score on that same street.
“You like it here?” I ask, taking a deep breath and trying to focus on the road, not the way her shirt hugs her curves perfectly.
“I do, more than I thought I would,” she says.
“I’m glad you decided to come, even if we didn’t get off to a great start at first. I guess we made up in spades,” I mutter, checking my rearview mirror.
She holds my stare for a second before I focus on the road again.
“When I so eloquently ordered you to not stir shit up,” I say, trying to clarify and digging my grave at the same time.
She licks her lip and says huskily, “You don’t have to keep apologizing for that. It takes two to tango after all, and I guess we did stir shit up, didn’t we?”
I bite hard on my bottom lip until I taste blood—anything to keep the bulge straining against the zipper of my jeans in check. Stay focused. Don’t smile. Whatever you do, don’t smile. When her lips hike up, I’m already meeting her halfway. I check the rearview mirror passing a car and spot the stupid grin on my face. Fuck.
“I’m going to be in so much trouble if you keep looking at me like that.” I grunt, not meeting her eyes. The sooner I get this over with, the quicker I can go to an NA meeting before I want to kill someone. Clutching the steering wheel hard until my knuckles turn white, I hold back a growl. When I turn to her, a sly smile has formed on her lips.
“So, where are we going besides the pharmacy? Are we gonna rob the place? My balaclava hasn’t gotten much action in a while,” I tell her, winking.
Her big innocent eyes roam over my body, and her cheeks flush. “No, just the pharmacy, and the natural remedy store.” She pauses, stretching her back, and of course she catches me staring at her cleavage.
“Great, I was hoping for something more exciting like the Bass Pro Shop,” I joke, rolling my eyes.
She gives me a sideways glance. “You never know what I might find once we’re there.” She stops talking and stares out the window, still smiling.
After about five miles of silence, and listening to the radio, I take the exit leading to the mall. “No hunting and fishing gear then?”
“Maybe underwear, since you destroyed my favorite pair.” Her voice is small and filled with mischief.
I slam on the brakes before the stop sign. The picture of her wearing those skimpy black panties I ripped off her flashes before my eyes. She has to brace herself to stay in her seat, as I hit the gas pedal.
“Fuck my life,” I mumble. The grin on her face is pure evil.
“You don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to, you can stay in the car,” she purrs.
Parking the truck near the entrance, I ask, “And do what? Twiddle my thumbs?” I turn toward her.The thought of her in some white lace outfit makes me want to slam my head against the steering wheel. Count to ten and think about something non-sexual. Changing the tires on the truck. Checking the oil, mowing the lawn. So…not…working. She hasn’t stopped staring at me, and judging by the look on her face, she is totally messing with me.
“You’re pulling my chain, aren’t you?”
She giggles. “You’re such an easy target, but now I think about it, I do need a new pair of pajamas.”
