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“I got you. Then you must have been thinking about the tip of my tongue toying with your clit and my fingers slowly pushing inside your wet pussy, the inner muscles gripping down so fast that it’s tough to pull my hand away, so I curl my fingertips to find that spot you like so much…”
Another quick peek and I catch the slightest wiggle of her hips, her legs held tight together.
“You squeal.”
“Getting colder,” she snaps. Yet the squeak in her voice gives away that she’s lying. Her hips shift more, and she rubs her hands over her thighs as if to chase the memory away.
Allowing a few minutes of silence except for the vibration of the tires over the road, I can feel the pressure building.
“Well, if it’s not any of that, it must be when I strip you down to nothing but your wings, sit back and pull you on my lap. You lift your body up just enough to find the head of my cock then slide down, inch by inch, your pussy stretching as you let me inside you, balls deep—“
“Definitely not that.” Her body turns, her face swinging my direction until a pair of big, violet eyes are planted firmly on me. “It’s none of that.”
Glancing over at her, I meet her heated stare and grin.
“If it’s none of that, then it must be one last thing.”
Blue rolls her eyes. “What could that possibly be?”
I glance at the road then back to her.
“Can I kiss you, Blue?”
Cheeks flaring red in a beautiful blush I imagine runs down her entire body, she turns away from me again.
It takes everything I have not to laugh.
“You’re an ass, you know that?”
“You’ve told me.”
“Good. Glad we’re caught up.”
Losing the battle, I laugh, the sound of it almost foreign to me because it’s the first time I’ve really laughed in what feels like forever. Blue laughs, too, both of us peeking over at each other before laughing harder. We wipe tears from our eyes, the sound settling down until I can catch my breath to speak again.
“In all seriousness, though, why can’t I kiss you?”
Blue settles into her seat then pulls her bent legs up against her chest, wrapping her arms around her shins. She rests the side of her face against her knees, her eyes staring over at me.
“I don’t trust you.”
My brows pull together, puzzle pieces falling together to reveal a clearer picture of the woman sitting beside me. “You said you’ve never let anybody kiss you.”
Her silence is the only answer I need.
I let the thought sink in. Not that I can blame her. I don’t trust people either. At least not with the parts of myself I’d rather keep buried.
“What would you make you trust me?” I ask, not just because I want to know what it would take for her but also wondering what it would take for me?
If she can open up, is there a chance in hell for me?
“You’d have to be worthy, which means you’d have to trust me, too. And where we stand right now, I know you don’t. So we’re not kissing.”
She’s not wrong, and the silent seconds I allow to pass after her statement confirms the truth to her words.
Still, she continues staring at my profile as I drive.
Every quarter mile or so, a streetlight illuminates the road, shadows running across the car and our faces.
