ChapterThree
SKYE
I've never been as embarrassed in all my life. Not even school field days could come close to my current humiliation. It wasn't that Seth couldn't get me up into the cab. He did, and far more easily than I could ever have dreamed. It was as if I was at my goal weight, rather than...
No, it was the speed with which he'd completed the task that has me squirming. It’s as if he couldn't wait to get his hands away from me, to be free of my weight. Dropped like a hot potato on the front seat.
"Um, thank you." I'm unable to add any further thanks. He's slammed the door in my face and is stalking around the front of the truck as though the devil is after him.
Maybe I won't have to make conversation after all.
Sure enough, when he opens his door and climbs in as though the first step is at a normal height, he keeps quiet. When he turns the key in the ignition and the engine roars to life, conversation becomes impossible. Added to this cacophony is Seth singing along to the radio.
His voice is as smooth as the rest of him. Yet another quality I find attractive, blast it.
Okay, if we’re not talking, then I can keep a lid on my desire to get up close and personal.
I even start to relax until I realize he’ll need to help me out of the cab when we get to my place.
I'd jump, but I'm simply not that athletic. Nor do I want to risk twisting an ankle. I spend most of my day at the bakery on my feet. It's not the type of job you can do sitting down. Nope, as much as I'd like to avoid it, he'll have to help me.
There's no need for me to give him instructions back to my place. He's towed my car enough times to get there blindfolded. In an instant, my mind is crowded with images of him sitting, wearing one, and not a lot else.
I've got no control as to where my mind goes after this. While my social life is about as active as any eighty-year-old, my imagination has the energy of a toddler. And like a toddler at the supermarket, it's currently running amok, not at thoughts of toys and chocolate bars, but rather about what I'd do to my savior.
So focused am I on my fantasies of a blindfolded and tied-up Seth—ooooh, I hadn't noticed the ropes earlier—that when he turns the engine off, my moan of desire fills the cab. I do my best to turn it into a yawn and then a cough. I can only hope he’s buying what I’m selling.
I’ve even started to think I've gotten away with it when he twists in his seat to face me. He tilts his head to the side, a smile playing around his lips. "Anything you want to share with me?"
I open and close my mouth, but nothing comes out. As his smile broadens, my hopes of coming up with a credible lie flee, along with any other logical thoughts. All I'm capable of is staring at his lips illuminated by the street light outside my house.
They're currently all I can think about, to the point I'm not even aware of having spoken, until he does.
"My lips? What about them?" He follows this up by running his tongue over them and, boom, my body is no longer under my control.
SETH
The drive back to Skye's place is excruciating. While I'm glad there's no need to chat, with every mile covered, the P.S.I. in my balls climbs. The sooner I have her out of the cab and I'm on my way, the sooner I can deal with my not so small problem.
On turning the engine off, rather than the usual sounds of it slowly cooling, I hear a sound that has my blood boiling. If that wasn't a moan of pleasure, then I’m not sure what is. Why on earth is she so fired up?
Could it be the engine vibrating through the cab that's set her off? Hell, it even gets to me some days.
On turning to look at her properly, my breath catches in my throat, and I have to swallow before I'm able to speak. If there's one thing I’m sure of, it's what horny looks like. And man-oh-man, if the pocket rocket sitting next to me isn’t ready to blast off, then I don’t know what.
When I ask her if she wants to share, she doesn't appear capable of rational thought, although she eventually squeaks out, "Your lips." I deliberately run my tongue over them, watching her closely.
Sure enough, her eyes darken, and when she copies my action by licking her own, this confirms it. I undo my seat belt, the better to slide across the bench seat in her direction. She watches my every move, her lips parted, and her gorgeous green eyes wide.
Even as I undo her seat belt for her and lift her onto my lap, she doesn't say anything. All she'd need to do was say no, and I'd stop it right there. But she doesn't. Add in her hands all over parts of me they shouldn’t be, and I can tell me she's as into this as I am.
I sweep in to taste her lips as I've wanted to since the first time I spotted her taking a break out back of her bakery. And damn, if she isn't every bit as sweet as those pies of hers, perhaps even sweeter.
