As I hold her, swaying with our friends and family around us, I can’t help but picture dancing again to this song in a different setting. When she speaks, I realize that despite all of her hesitation, we're always on the same page.
“I want this to be our wedding song,” she murmurs into my chest. My heart races with her words and the meaning behind them, at the acceptance in them, at the trust they hold.
“Promise?” I ask, looking down at her. She tips her head back and gives me the softest, sweetest look I’ve ever seen in my life, and somehow, I fall even harder.
“Forever,” she whispers. She’s been drinking, but she’s not blackout drunk, just loose and carefree, and I know that this is a confession in a moment of openness, a moment when her walls are completely down.
“I love you,” I tell her, and then my lips crash down to hers. Her arms move to wrap around my neck, to hold me close and deepen the kiss. We’re no longer dancing, just standing and kissing as the song fades off.
“Get a room!” my sister calls from behind me, and I let out a small laugh.
“That’s not a bad idea,” Hallie says with a lifted eyebrow, and that’s all the encouragement I need.
As I did weeks ago in this bar, without a goodbye to anyone, I head for the door.
But unlike last time, I do it with Hallie over my shoulder, our friends and families cheering behind us as we go.
We’re barely a block from the bar when she starts.
“I’m so hot, Jesse,” she whispers, leaning over and pressing a kiss to my neck.
“We’ll be home soon.” I put a hand on her knee and squeeze. She reaches down, grabbing and slowly sliding it up her soft thigh until I reach her center.
Her bare center.
“Jesus fuck, Hallie. When did you do this?”
She giggles, the sound going breathy as, unable to stop myself, my finger slides along her center. Her hips shift to try and get more, and she’s already soaked.
“When you walked around the truck. You took a while chatting with Madden.”
Madd had called out to us when we were almost to the car, waving me down because Hallie’s purse was left on the table when I carried her out.
“You took your panties off while I was talking to my brother?” I ask, wanting to sound aghast but unable to as my fingers slide up, circling her clit, and her breath catches.
“Gotta do what you gotta do.” Her hand shifts, moving to my crotch, where I’m already growing hard, and strokes me through my jeans. “You don’t seem to mind much.”
“You’re in my truck, no panties on, wet as fuck, and we’re heading home to an empty house. No, I’m not complaining.” She lets out a laugh that moves to a moan as I slide one finger inside her, then back out.
“You know, I think you deserve a prize for being so responsible tonight,” she murmurs. Before I can question what she means, her hand is moving up to the button of my jeans and deftly undoing it.
“Hallie,” I say, a warning with no heat behind it. A warning she ignores, which is no surprise. Instead, she undoes my zipper, then slides her hand beneath my underwear. “Hallie.”
This time, it’s more of a sigh as she wraps her hand around me, then pulls my cock out as I drive out of town toward the farm. I allow myself to glimpse down for just a moment at hersmall, soft hand that is wrapped around me, then tugging gently. A bead of precum is already on the tip, and I groan as she dips her head to lick the tip.
Never in my life have I been more grateful I have this shitty old truck with a bench seat instead of a fancier model with a center console than I am right now.
I’m even more grateful as her head dips further, wrapping her lips around the head of my cock and sucking. A strained breath leaves me, and I wage an internal battle. I should tell her to stop, to be responsible, and wait until we get home. But as her head lowers, bobbing over me, lips sliding down, I can’t find the words to get her to stop.
“Hallie,” I say, my voice low, forcing my hips not to lift and go deeper as my fingers grip the wheel tightly. After a few sucks, she pops off and looks at me.
“Come on, Jesse. Take what you need.” Then she reaches up, taking my hand and putting it on her head before sliding down on me, the tip of my cock hitting the back of her throat as we turn onto the King property, thankful that the rest of the drive is so familiar, I could probably drive it with my eyes closed, not that I’ll be doing that.
I keep my fingers in her hair, but don’t tug, don’t push her deeper, don’t fuck her face the way she clearly is asking for. Instead, I make it to my house, park out front, then turn the key to kill the engine, a bit of relief.
“Come on. Inside,” I demand, and she pulls back and shakes her head.
“I’m not ready,” she mewls, then shifts, her knees going to the bench seat, ass tipping up, back arching as she moves to lick the tip of my cock again before sinking her head. When I look over, her skirt is bunched at her waist, and I hit the overhead lights to get a better view of her peach-shaped ass in the air as she sucks me off.
