He steps toward me, ushering me inside. I go unwillingly, wincing when I notice the dirt and dust on the torn passenger seat.
“Stop checking him out and let’s go,” Liam shouts, and my cheeks flame as I glance down at Caleb.
He peers up at me, and I see his eyes drift to my hands for just a moment.
My cock jerks in my pants, and I turn my gaze away.
Not out here. Not where his cousins could see us. Wait, no. I need to tell myself I won’t be doing any of that again.
I sigh internally. The sad truth is, I probably will.
Those eyes. Those abs.
That fucking face.
Caleb jogs around to the driver’s seat and hauls himself up. I click my seatbelt in and turn my gaze toward him.
“This is not what I thought I’d be doing on my Saturday morning.”
He turns his eyes on me, and heat flashes through them.
“Wish you were still jerking me off instead?” he says with a smirk.
I feel my cheeks flame again, and I nervously tap a beat against my thighs. “I think getting into this truck with you was a bad idea.”
Honestly, being near him at all is turning my life inside out.
But I’m loath to stop.
He flips his hat backward and turns the key in the ignition. Oh god. Not the hat.
The beast roars to life. I grab onto the bar in front of me as he fists the stick shift.
My throat clicks loudly as he smiles at me.
“Oh, Whit, you have no idea what you’re about to experience.”
He revs the engine loudly and then peels out of the gravel driveway, dust and rocks spitting from the spinning tires.
My eyes close as my breath constricts in my lungs, and then we bounce forward, and my eyelids shoot open.
“Why are we going off the road?” I ask as I watch him drive straight over some bushes.
That can’t be environmentally friendly and is probably illegal. Those could be protected plants.
Mud kicks up and lands on my pant legs, and I stare at them in shock.
This is a horror show.
“It’s called off-roading, babe. Well, technically…” he says as we bounce over a small hill and splash into another muddy puddle. I glance down at it and then over at him, my teeth rattling in my skull. “It’s called mudding.” He revs the engine again, lurching us forward. I curse under my breath, but it’s drowned out by the sound of the truck engines.
And as he drives us into the distance, the desert landscape sprawling before us, mud and rocks flying up and landing on my clean clothes, I realize I’ve made a huge mistake.
I feel like I’ve been to war. My head throbs, my shoulders ache, and I’m pretty sure my teeth are coming loose. But worse than all that, I’m covered in mud.
I don’t know how Caleb managed it, but he drove us straight through a puddle the size of a small lake, aiming Betsy so only my side took the hit. Now I’m drenched in muddy sludge, my skin caked ingod knows what. It’s dripping from my neckline to my boots, while he sits there, looking far too hot.
I, however, look like some kind of swamp monster.
