Fidget drools at her feet.
“Fidget's supposed to be on a diet.”
Was that roast beef sandwich part of the diet plan?I silently communicate to the dog.
Shelooks away.
I run my fingers along the neckline of the black dress. “I knew you'd look good in that, Creampuff. Whoa!” I squint as a bright flash goes off.
“Smile, you kids!” Her dad adjusts the camera lens. “Winnie, this is like a do-over for prom. April, get her a corsage!” He snaps more photos.
“Sorry.” Winnie sighs. “We have quite the audience.”
“Let me fix you a drink, Fitz!” Her dad beams at me.
“Goddamn, Mark, the man has a plan. Why you always trying to cockblock people?” Frances waves her arms at her son. “Let them go on their date.”
I drape the fur cape around Winnie's shoulders, letting my fingers trail along her neck.
Her family watches like we're going off for a month-long honeymoon.
“God, they're exhausting,” Winnie complains when the front door closes behind us.
“I think your family is cute, Creampuff.” I open the car door for her.
I pull out into the street, the headlights brightly illuminating the house across from hers where I watched her fuck herself with that toy.
There's a sick thrill I'm getting from being the perfect gentleman, all while she has no idea that she's sitting next to the man who fucked her senseless then came all over her like she was a dirty little cum slut.
Except for whoever was there last night.
A scowl darkens my face.
It's enough to calm the hard-on I’m getting.
She's looking in the rearview mirror.
“Looking for someone?”
“N—no, just making sure my parents aren't following us.” She turns around.
“Are they worried?” I take her hand, bringing it to my mouth to kiss it.
The traffic light turns green.
“They can't be concerned about me, can they?”
“No, they love you. They want you to be their son-in-law,” she admits.
“That so?” I run my fingers up the creamy skin of her thigh. “Well, we are at that age where I guess we need to come clean about our hopes for a relationship.”
“Look at us pretending to be responsible adults,” Winnie huffs. “Anyways, you probably just want to sleep around, have fun.”
“Maybe about as much as you want to be in hustle culture a hundred hours a week.”
“Look, we barely know each other. We've kissed a few times—” she begins.
And yet I know you more than you think.
