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“Get in,” I demand and she does as I ask, settling her sweet self into the passenger seat, her gaze roaming the interior, as if she doesn’t know where to look first. “What do you think?”
“It’s really nice. It looks brand new.”
“She’s in pristine condition.” I smooth my hand over the dash yet again. Like I get off on stroking this car. Seriously, I’m nuts.
“What year?”
“1969, baby.” I grin at her when she slams her door shut. “Wine me, dine me, sixty-nine me.”
Charlotte wrinkles her nose. “No one has ever done that to me.”
“Wined you and dined you?”
“Sixty-nined me.” Her cheeks turn pink.
My mind immediately goes to Charlotte on top of me, her pussy and ass right in my face, her mouth wrapped around my dick. “We’re going to have to try that sometime.”
“Have you ever done that before? Oh my God, don’t answer that question. I don’t want to know.” She shakes her head vehemently.
We never talk about my previous sexual experiences because they weren’t that memorable. As in, I never had a lasting relationship beyond a couple of casual hookups with the same person. “Want me to be real with you right now?”
“Probably not.”
I ignore her answer. “I’ve never done it.”
She’s quiet for a moment, her head slowly swiveling in my direction so she can stare at me. “Really?”
I nod. “Seemed like a lot of work.” And rather intimate.
Wouldn’t mind being rather intimate with my wife, though.
“Still not interested, then?”
“Didn’t have it on the agenda tonight, but things can change.” I shift the car into first gear and leave my foot on the clutch. “Ready to go?”
“Where are you taking me?”
“On the ride of your life,” I answer without hesitation.
Her smile is huge and the sound of her laughter…
Fuck. It just does something to me.
“Let’s go,” she says eagerly.
I glance in the side mirror, the road clearing just in time for me to ease up on the clutch and pull onto the street, the tires loud, the engine louder.
But they’ve got nothing on the sound of my wife’s laugh.
I go fast and take corners faster, making her squeal in delight. In horror. She can’t stop laughing and I figure it’s some sort of nervous thing too, because her expression is equal parts joy and terror.
Eventually I slow down, feeling bad that I’m frightening her. She seems to relax, her body melting into the seat.
“You hungry?”
“Kind of.” She blows out a shaky breath. “You’re a little scary.”
“I was actually taking it easy compared to how I used to drive this thing.”
