“Probably not, no. I’m just a dick.” I shrug, making her laugh out loud, her head falling back. I’ve never seen her laugh so carefree. It’s loud, and she’s snorting like a piglet.
It’s adorable.
I need to stop thinking about her that way, but having her clinging to me, smelling like holidays in the Caribbean and a hint of sweat, is intoxicating.
Fuck, I wonder how she would smell with my scent mixed in after she’s done moaning my name and gasping for breath.Thethought has me suppressing a groan, and I have to think about anything but to keep my cock from hardening.
We get to my car, and I let her down gently this time, pulling out my keys to open the back and switch my shoes.
“Thanks, see you around,” she mutters while I put my second sneaker on, attempting to hobble away.
“Are you kidding me, woman? I didn’t carry your ass off that boardwalk just for you to walk home. Get in the damn car.” I don’t wait for her and walk to the driver’s side instead. I’m not a gentleman. If she wants a ride, she can open her own door.
I start the engine and the heater, the warm air is a relief as I feel how cold my nose and hands are. The door to the passenger side opens, and she slowly slides in, making sure to tap her feet outside the door against each other to get rid of the dirt before she pulls them inside and gently shuts the door.
Sloan puts on the seat belt with a sort of attentiveness, then sits there, looking like she’s in awe, gently stroking the side of the leather seat before letting her fingers glide over the interior. I reach out to put on the heated seat for her, and I can see the moment it hits. She’s closing her eyes and letting herself relax into the leather. Her head falls back on the headrest, exposing her slim neck, and her chest rises while she breathes in deeply.
My gaze zeroes in on her peaked nipples through the material of her running jacket.
“Thank you,” she breathes out, pulling my head out of the gutter.
As we drive the short way into town, I realize I have no idea where to take her. Which somehow bugs me. “Where do you live?” I ask, eyes on the road.
“You can kick me out at Shannon’s, please,” she mutters, seemingly still basking in the warmth.
I think about what’s around Shannon’s but come up empty. A supermarket, some houses of people I know, no inn or Airbnb whatsoever.
When I halt in front of the restaurant, Sloan unclicks her seat belt and gets out of the car before leaning down to look at me. “Thank you. It seems like we’re even now,” she states.
Right, the battery cable fix.
“Seems like it, Blue,” I respond, unsure what to say and still feeling embarrassed about that little encounter.
I could have fixed that too. I was just so damn worried about Lio’s doctor appointment that it didn’t even cross my mind that that could be the problem.
In the end, I only showed up in time because of her.
I clench my jaw, irritated to admit she helped.
“Seems like you can go back to your assholey self now.” She smiles before giving me the finger. “See you later, Satan,” she mutters, shutting my car door but letting it click shut softly.
I huff a laugh to myself.
This girl is something else.
I look back up to find her hobbling over to the old, rusty orange Chevy G20 in the parking lot. She opens the side door with a creak so loud I can hear it inside the car and gets in. The side windows are shielded by curtains, but there is frost on the windshield, and a cord runs from the back of the van to the back of the restaurant.
Is she living in that monstrosity?
I’ve never hadthis happen to me.
Usually, I’m the one refusing to go in for seconds. Typically, a fling doesn’t keep playing on repeat in my head days after.
She’s Piña Colada in the air,
Tequila’s taste, beyond compare.
Soft as whispers, hot as sin,
