“Your body,” I murmur when I can finally take another breath. “And your car.”
“Ha.” He rolls us both over until I’m lying on top of him, then hooks his feet over my ankles to yank my legs apart. He slides a hand along the curve of my hip, over my backside, then slips under my panties to find me wet and ready for him. “You haven’t even experienced the joys of the back seat yet.”
My breath hitches as his fingers explore my folds, circling around my clit before sliding to my entrance, then repeating. “Is that an invitation?”
“The senior’s dance is just a month away,” he says. “Want to go? Then I’ll give you a rundown of its delights afterwards. It’s practically a rite of passage.”
“You’re asking me on a date?”
He withdraws his finger, sucking the juices off it before sending it back down to work.
Thank goodness. Otherwise, I’d have to complain to management.
“Yeah, I think I am,” he says, leaving me scrambling to remember what we were talking about.
“Haven’t they already sold out of tickets?”
“Already bought them.”
The reminder that at the time of purchase he probably had another girl in mind sobers me a little. Then his finger slides inside me and I wince. As much as I crave the sensation, it’s still sore from earlier in the week. Sensing that, he withdraws, returning his attention to my breasts instead, then just wrapping his arms around to hold me close.
“Stefan pays a lot better than minimum wage.” And we’re back to my recruitment. “You wouldn’t have to work as many hours as you did to pay the same rent, or you can work the same hours but afford your own place.”
“I like having flatmates. It’s nice to share the responsibility.”
“Then work less. That’ll leave you far more free time to spend with me.”
“Or to catch up with my schoolwork.”
“Such a nerd.”
I smile. “A nerd would ace their classes. I’m going to have to study hard just to arrive in the centre of the pack.”
“Do you, though?”
My brow creases as I study his expression. “Yeah. I’m behind right now, so it’ll take a lot to catch up.”
“But do you even want to go to uni? What’re you going to study?”
“I have to stay in schooling to qualify—”
“Forget qualifying for state assistance. I’m talking about what you actually want for your future. What would you choose if you didn’t have to worry about work and school and housing?”
I try to shrug, but it’s difficult when you’re balancing on top of another person. After a moment, I give up and settle for pursing my lips. “I don’t know.”
“What do you like doing?”
I take a minute to admit, “I still don’t know. All I do is what other people want me to do. If nobody’s dictating, then I don’t have a clue.”
“Then tertiary education’s a waste of time. You need to try out different things until you find your passion. Everything else can wait until then.”
“And what if I don’t have a passion?”
“Then I’ll pay you to stay home and keep house for me.”
“Like a good little fifties housewife?”
“I’m glad we’re on the same page.”
