“Oh.” What can I say to that? Do I look down at his pants to see if he’s telling the truth? No, that’s a bad idea, but I do it anyway. My eyes slide south until they reach his zipper, and yep, he wasn’t lying. “Whoa.”
“Yeah. See? That’s what you do to me on a normal day. That dress has added serious voltage to him.”
“Him?”
“Yeah. I don’t have a name for my dick, so I just refer to it as him or the big guy.”
I lower my head until it’s against his chest and giggle. “Alex, you’re such a dork.”
“Yeah, I know.” He takes my hand in his and leads me backto the truck. “Let’s head back. We can get cozy at my place and talk about you and that naughty little dress in private.”
At the truck, he goes through the ritual of unlocking and opening the door and lifting me into the truck. As he’s about to buckle me in, he places his hand on the back of my neck and pulls me forward to kiss me deeply. His tongue darts out into my open mouth as he tries to touch every spot inside.
He moans in my mouth. “Jesus, Stella, you’re driving me crazy.”
“I am?”
“Yeah, you are.” He slides his hand down from my neck to the front of my dress, feeling my nipple harden under his touch. I arch into him.
“We’d better stop now. We’re in the middle of a parking lot, after all,” I reluctantly say.
Alex grunts. Instead of buckling me in, he shuts my door and slides in through his side. When I reach for my seat belt, he stops me, lifting up the center console. Then he pulls my hand so I scoot closer until I’m right next to him, thigh to thigh. Reaching back, he finds the center seat belt strap and buckles me into place.
After putting the truck into drive, he slides his hand just beneath the hem of my dress and rests it there. The warmth from his palm feels nice. Anytime this man touches me, I turn into a quivering mess. I decide that turnabout is fair play, so I reach over and touch his huge, muscled thigh. He jumps from my touch, but I don’t move my hand. Instead, I gently rub back and forth from the outside to the inside of his thigh. I can’t help noticing his breathing has started to pick up. His left hand is clutching the steering wheel so tightly I see white knuckles, and it looks like he’s gritting his teeth. His jaw is so tense.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
Just then, he turns the wheel suddenly to the left and headsdown a dark side street.
“Where are we going?”
“To finish what we started.”
He finds a dark tree-lined street that almost seems abandoned and pulls off to the side. After throwing the truck into park, he roughly slides his seat back as far as it will go. After reaching over to unbuckle my seat belt, he grabs my hand, tugging it in his direction.
“What?” I squeak.
“I want you on my lap, Stella.”
“Oh, no, I’ll hurt you.”
“Stella, please.” He sounds sort of desperate. “Get on my lap.”
I’m frozen in my spot. Looking down at his lap, I attempt to figure out how I’m going to achieve that goal. I guess I’m taking too long because, before I know it, Alex has his hands on my waist and I’m in the air, and then I’m straddling his lap a second later. I move around a little bit, attempting to get comfortable, when he growls. I feel his hardness between my legs and do my best to get closer. Man, it feels good.
“I need to see you, Stella. Can I?”
I’m not sure what he means by “see” me. I’m a little worried about it, to be honest, but I go ahead and say quietly, “Okay.”
Next, he reaches up and starts to unbutton my dress, slowly, one button at a time.
“So many buttons, Pixie.”
“Twenty-four.”
“Twenty-four what?” His eyes are on the work he’s doing on my dress.
“Buttons. Twenty-four buttons,” I say, panting a little.
