So I break it. “Why don’t you like fucking before going out?”
“Hmm?”
I snort and sit up. He slips out of me and I busy my hands with the condom, sitting back on his thighs. “You said we couldn’t fuck before we went out ever again. Why?”
He’s slow to respond, and when I look up to see why, his eyes are on my hands. He notices me watching him and furrows his brows, like he’s trying to remember the question. “Cause it just makes me want to take you to bed instead of going out.”
“Fine by me,” I reply with a flirty grin, tying off the condom.
“I know it’s fine by you, but you deserve to be taken out and shown off, not just fucked in secret.”
The silence that follows isn’t so comfortable anymore and it’s in that moment I realize I have a fucking condom in my hand. I look back down at his softened cock, sliding off his lap and onto the seat beside him so he can tuck it away and fix his clothes.
I have a condom in my hand. That I took off of him after sex. And it’s full of his cum. I hadn’t even realized I’d done it until now and there’s absolutely nowhere to put it unless I want to litter.
There’s an odd sort of intimacy with post-sex cleanup. I’m used to handling my own shit while my partner handles theirs. I don’t think I’ve ever held a condom full of cum before.
Before I can spiral much further, Maddox is leaning his too-big body through the front seats and grabbing an old to-go cup from the cupholder. He lifts the plastic lid to the side and holds it out for me.
I toss the condom inside without looking him in the eye, then busy myself with fixing my dress and finger-combing through my hair. It’s pointless. I’ll need to do it again when I’m in the front seat and can use the mirror on the visor, but it’s something to do that doesn’t involve looking at Maddox.
“I think it’s safe to say these belong to me now.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see a flash of red and turn to snatch my panties off his finger. “Aht, aht,” he chides with a grin, pulling them out of my reach. “It’s a rite of passage. Sex in the backseat means I get to keep the panties.”
“Oh yeah? Colt tell you that?”
He doesn’t take the bait, making a show of tucking them into his shirt pocket. They bulge out ridiculously. “Yep. He’s got tons.”
“Probably got one of mine then,” I joke, but even that doesn’t steal the smile from his face. He’s harder to rile up after sex, I’m noticing. I take it as a compliment. I must’ve sated him pretty damn well if bringing up his brother isn’t annoying him.
I hum. “Alright, well, guess I’ll just have to be extra careful not to flash anyone at the restaurant. Would hate for anyone to get a look up my skirt and see?—”
He grumbles, tossing the panties in my lap and checking to make sure the coast is clear before getting out of the backseat. I’m still laughing, pulling my thong back in place under my dress, when he slides in behind the steering wheel.
“Quit your cackling and get your ass up here, brat. We’re late for our reservation as it is,” he says, shoving the condom-filled to-go cup back in the cupholder.
I climb over the center console to obey, still grinning at his grumpy possessiveness. He swats my ass and I yelp, plopping down in the passenger seat and glaring at him.
“Seatbelt,” is all he says as he puts the truck in drive and pulls out of the bar’s parking lot, but even his mustache can’t hide his smile.
TWENTY-SIX
MADDOX
She’s too goddamnbeautiful for her own good. What’s worse is she’s got this odd relationship with herself where I know she knows how sexy she is, but she doesn’t seem to be aware of howbeautifulshe is. For Austin, I think those two words mean different things.
Cattleman’s isn’t busy by any means, but the people thatarethere are raking their eyes over Austin as Marcie Carmichael leads us to a booth. Their eyes catch on my hand on the small of Austin’s back, and I feel ten feet tall. I’m a lucky son of a bitch, even if this is only temporary.
“Here we are,” Marcie says, eyeing us as I wait for Austin to take a seat before slipping into the booth opposite her. She hands us the menus and Austin mumbles her thanks, not really looking at the woman.
“Your server will be with you in a sec, but in the meantime, what can I get you guys to drink?”
We both ask for Cokes and Marcie hovers, looking down on Austin.
“Thank you, Marcie,” I tell her, hoping she’ll get the hint. “We’ll take a few minutes to look over the menu. Tell your daddy hey for me.”
The girl’s eyes snap over to mine and she nods once, scurrying away. I’ve found that most teenagers find their manners pretty suddenly when they’re reminded you know their parents.
