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I need another shot. Or maybe a dozen. I’ve heard alcohol poisoning isn’t very festive though. I had plenty to drink when I crafted the coupon.
More alcohol isn’t in the cards, as Derek grabs my hand, and doesn’t so much as excuse us, as he drags me out of the bar. My feet shuffle like I’ve been called to the principal’s office.
I’ve done it. I’ve gone too far. In a moment of weakness or maybe it was a stroke of utter idiocy I made Derek a gift. I thought if it backfired, when I sobered up, I could turn it into something to joke about and I could lie and say his real gift was back at home.
I’ve been considering moving out to avoid any more of the parade of women. Maybe he’s going to kick me out instead.
Fine. Do it. I don’t care.
But I do.
Just wish I didn’t.
We make it to his car and he’s pushing me into the backseat and out of the cold. He climbs in after me, huddling close and the heat radiates like a nuclear reactor off of him. I shiver and can’t be too sure if it’s because it’s started snowing again outside or because his eyes are piercing me to my very core.
I squeak as his hands grasp my legs, just above my knee, and pushes them open, making room for him to get even closer. I fall onto my back, the leather warming up beneath me as I squirm. I shiver again, this time and it’s only a reaction to Derek. The rough scrap of his jeans against my thin tights, and the bulge pressing against me have me on high alert. His hands settle on my hips. Thumbs pressing in, my dress now high enough to expose the red panties beneath the sparkly tights.
Our only light is the slow flashing strobe of the Christmas lights on my sweater, changing between various colors that light up Derek’s intense features.
“I want to redeem it,” he growls like a man possessed.
“What?” my voice cracks.
His response is a grinding against me, his bulge even harder than when he first pounced.
“I said, I want to redeem the coupon. Now.”
“Derek, the coupon was a—”
“It said: This Coupon is redeemable for frosting Sugar’s cookie.” I’ve never heard him speak like this. His voice but a whisper—a delicious heady threat as he speaks.
I scramble for an excuse, for the backup plan joke. My voice dies in my throat, and only a moan escapes as Derek shifts, and my body is reminded of the position he’s put us in.
One I’ve dreamed of for so long…
Derek’s eyes light up at the noise I can’t help but release, and he pulls his hips back ever so slightly before he rolls them back into me, provoking another small moan from me.
“Did I read the gift wrong, Sugar?” he asks, never taking his eyes off me.
I have to catch my breath and let the truth out. “No.”
“Good.”
His lips crash into mine in an instant. His tongue invades my mouth, and it’s all I can do to keep up. His hands shift from my hips to my backside, pulling me tighter against him.
He groans, squeezing my cheeks as he gives me some reprieve from his soul-touching kissing. “Fuck, I’ve wanted this for so long.” His admission shocks me. “Your ass barely fits in my hands,” he adds.
“Don’t say that,” I whisper. I wiggle, as if I might escape his clutches, embarrassed briefly. I’ve never looked like any of the women I’ve seen him bring home. I’m round and soft and they’ve all been svelte and wiry. I like my body, but it takes a special man to do the same. I never thought Derek would be that man.
He pulls back a little to take me in. I must be flushed and panting, a messy sight only amplified by my inexperience.
“You’re beautiful and I find your body hot, Sugar. And I’m going to show you how much,” he says, like a promise. “I want to feel all of you, honey.” His eyes dart around his backseat, calculating as he chews his lip, hands still possessive of me. “Ever fucked in the backseat?”
“No…” I swallow and add. “I’ve never fucked at all.”
He goes still. It’s possible he’s even stopped breathing. I thought making the coupon was bad, admitting this embarrassing fact aloud feels worse.
Anxiety and panic all at once hit me. He seemed interested until now. Until he learned no one’s tasted, let alone frosted, mycookie.
