I know she’s not a material girl despite having money and dressing in designer clothes, but I want to spoil her anyway. I may not have much or be able to buy her expensive diamonds or fancy dinners, but I can still show her how much she means to me.
“Okay, good night.”
“Night, Barbie.”
I runa hand through my hair, pushing it to the side. It’s getting longer on top. I need a trim but haven’t had time. I’d normally just toss a hat on, but I’m trying to look nice for Olivia. I even put on jeans without holes. She said not to make a big deal out of Valentine’s Day, but doesn’t every woman say that? They never mean it. Even if she does, she deserves more.
I check my phone, making sure everything is on time, then head out.
When Olivia opens her door for me, my jaw hits the floor. I told her to dress comfortably, but fuck me, she’s gorgeous. “Holy shit.” I practically pant, cock stirring in my jeans as my eyes rake over her. She’s wearing a long-sleeve red dress that hugs every inch of her curves. Her hair is hanging down her back in big curls, and her lips are painted the same shade of red as her dress.
Her eyes widen. “What?”
“You look incredible,” I say, leaning in to kiss her, tasting a hint of cherry on her lips.
She smiles softly and grabs her coat, slipping it on before following me to my truck. I open the door and help her in, taking another glance at her legs covered in some sort of sheer tights.
I try to focus on the road, but my eyes keep sliding to Olivia, who’s shifting restlessly in her seat.
“You good?” I ask, as my eyes zero in on her thighs that are not so subtly rubbing together.
She freezes. “Yes, are you?”
My eyes jerk back to the road. “I’m good.”
“I’ll bet,” she mutters so quietly I almost don’t catch it.
I hold in my chuckle but reach over, grab her leg, and drag her closer to me. She places her hand on my thigh, and I put on some music. The drive to my place isn’t far, but because it’s Valentine’s Day, traffic is heavier than usual.
“I like this,” she says. “Who is it?”
“Less Than Jake.”
Her head falls to my shoulder, and a moment later, her hand glides up my thigh. I don’t think she’s aware of how close she is to my dick, or what she’s doing to me as her hand creeps closer. I clear my throat, shifting slightly, hoping she’ll get the hint. Instead of stopping or moving away, she brushes her fingers over my zipper.
I glance at her, but the little brat has her eyes shut, acting as if her movements are innocent and not about to have my cocktearing out of my jeans. She rubs harder, and I sigh, letting my head fall back against the seat as my hips thrust into her palm. To my fucking surprise, she squeezes me.
I groan, my cock solid.
When she starts rubbing faster, it takes effort to focus on driving. All I can think about is freeing my suffocating cock and coming all over her delicate fingers. Her nails are painted a soft pink that reminds me of her pretty pussy. It was so goddamn hard to walk away from her after she came all over my hand. She was eyeing my cock like she wanted it, but I was afraid of pushing her too far in one night. I was already late for band practice, but I wasn’t worried about that.
She works me over my jeans, using just the right amount of pressure.
“Fuck.” I put my hand over hers and squeeze hard. A barely audible whimper pierces my ears, and I clench my jaw to keep from blowing in my damn pants. I yank the truck into my parking lot and throw it in park. My chest heaves as I stare at her, all doe-eyed, still holding my dick. “Get inside before I fuck your hand right here for all my neighbors to see.”
She gapes at me, not moving an inch. If I’m not mistaken, I think she wants me to do just that. Instead, I grab her wrist and drag her out of the truck and up to my apartment. I go straight to the kitchen and grab a bottle of water, needing a minute to get myself under control and give my dick time to deflate.
Olivia’s eyes are still wide as she stands frozen in the doorway. I bite back my grin. She thought she was getting me worked up—and she did—but I think she needs release too.All she’s gotta do is say the word.
“Want something to drink? I ordered food. It should be here any minute,” I say, checking my phone.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
I ignore her statement. Stepping next to her, I put my handon her back, ushering her to the couch. “Want to find us something to watch?” Before I can hand her the remote, a knock hits my door. I grab our food and carry it into the kitchen.
“Is that Adino’s?” she asks, sounding shocked.
“It is.” I take everything out of the bag as she slowly approaches.
