“Yep,” I say, deciding to keep it short and simple in order to get out of her as fast as fucking possible.
But Calla wraps her hands around my left arm, leaning her head on my shoulder until I can smell the scent of her shampoo. “We sure did.”
The cashier huffs out a giggle, which only serves to make my chest begin to itch with the beginnings of a nervous rash. I tap my contactless card to the machine before she’s even rolled off the total amount, grabbing our box of condoms, and beginning to walk away.
“Do you want your receipt?”
I shake my head ‘no’ wordlessly.
“Have a good night you two!” she calls.
“Oh, we will,” I hear Calla reply with a cackle.
Thankfully, the taxi driver has kept his word; his car still sitting, engine idling, where I left him. I rip open the door to the backseat, watching as Calla peers up at me, the pad of the thumb coming up to brush along the crimson red staining the apples of my cheeks.
“Cute,” she remarks before bending at the waist and disappearing inside the taxi.
I clench my jaw when I see the skirt of her princess costume ride up, the rounded bottom-most curve of her arse visible for a heartbeat.
The sudden urge to bite her flesh runs through me, poker hot.
I flex my fingers against the cool metal of the car door to remind myself where the fuck I am, exhaling raggedly, and then joining Calla in the backseat. Her resulting giggle upon seeing me, has me narrowing my eyes at her.
She’s a fucking handful.
But that’s fine. Its why God gave me two hands, after all.
Chapter 5
Calla
I’m cottoning on quickly just how easy Blake is to wind up.
And embarrass.
I squirm against the leather seat of the taxi, pressing my thighs together tightly to try and quell the ache pulsating in my core. But it does no good. I can feel how wet my knickers are; all I can hope is that I don’t leave a damp spot on the seat. Blake’s thick fingers wrap around my inner thigh, dangerously close to my core, bringing his face close to mine until he can kiss me again. So caught up in the feel of him surrounding me, leaving my mind heady, I barely register the movement of his hand until the backs of his fingers are trailing over the centre of my knickers.
He pulls back, a grin curling up at the edges of his mouth, when he feels how wet I am.
“This all for me, Calla?”
I can’t speak, so I nod my head instead.
My eyes momentarily flick to the unopen box of condoms laying haphazardly on the leather seat between Blake and I.
Ribbed for her pleasure.
I’d only picked those up as a joke. I had no qualms that Blake would know exactly what to do in the bedroom; something he was proving me right –very right– as he chooses this exact moment to swipe the pad of his thumb over the swollen bud of my clit through my soaked knickers.
But the blush that had coated his cheeks was adorably cute.
Although, right now, there’s nothingcuteabout Blake at all. The stuttering, flame cheeked man I’d seen a glimpse of only a handful of minutes ago, is gone. Completely erased.
In his place, sits a very attractive man who knows exactly which buttons to press and when. I’m liable to cum in the back of this taxi if he’s not careful and I think Blake knows it too if the smirk on his lips is anything to play by. I huff, squirming, my fingers spreading wide to grip the plastic ‘oh shit’ handle above my head. I’m not sure if I want to move closer, or if I want to move away from Blake’s thick fingers, which are bringing me closer and closer to the edge with each pass of his thumb.
“Now who’s flushed, hm?”
Smug bastard.
