Page 53 of Hash

“Who’s watching Cormac?” Hash asks, ignoring me completely.

“Frankie,” I answer, biting my tongue on telling him that it’s none of his business who’s watching him because in reality, it is his now.

“Is he at her house?”

“No. I wasn’t planning on being out all night, so she is watching him at my place until I’m back.” My answer seems to release some of the tension because his neck and shoulders fall slightly. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

“We’re going home.” Hash shifts gears as we speed out of the parking lot.

I sit silently in my seat as I watch Hash’s large hand flex on the shifter. My body has a mind of its own as my thighs rub together trying to ease the ache that’s building between. I hate that I can’t seem to resist him.

Hash’s hand glides over to my leg, resting on my upper thigh as he digs his fingers into my pale flesh until the surrounding skin turns red from the pressure.

“If I slide my finger up your pretty slit, am I going to find you wet for me or him?” My lips part as Hash’s hand rubs up my thigh until he reaches the area that’s throbbing for him. Sliding my thong to the side, he runs his thick finger up my slit. “Fucking drenched,” he growls before flicking my clit. “Answer me.”

“It’s for you.” I gasp. “It’s always for you.”

“Fucking always.” Hash drags his finger back down, circling my entrance before shoving his thick finger inside to the hilt.

My head flies back, slightly bouncing off the seat rest, and I let out a long, embarrassing moan. The pace he sets is fast as he builds me up in record time. My inner walls flex around his finger, the welcoming tingle burning at the base of my spine.

I slide down slightly in the leather seat and tilt my hips up in hopes of giving him better access. Logically, I know this is a bad idea. A very bad idea. But for some reason when it comes to him, I’ve never been able to get my body and head on the same page.

My moans are growing higher pitched the faster he goes, sending me to the edge but not over it.

I squeal as Hash takes a sharp right turn and slams on the brakes, making my eyes fly open as the tires screech to a stop. I’m throbbing around his finger that’s still inside of me, begging for a release.

“Why are we stopping?” I ask as I look around the dark alley.

Hash spares me a side glance, his face giving away nothing other than he still looks just as mad as he did back at Bella Vita. He opens his car door and slams it shut before walking around the front of the car, heading straight toward me.

I should have gotten my shit together and got the hell out of here, but all I could do was watch his ass in dress pants. There’s something so sexy about a man dressing up who usually only wears jeans and tees.

My eyes follow Hash until he’s at my side of the car and opening my door.

“What are you — eeek!” Hash yanks me out of the car and drags me behind him until we’re standing in front of the car.

His green eyes are glowing in the night, the street lamps casting shadows around us. I’m lost in them, like he put me in a trance as I stand in front of him, unable to move. His poker face conceals the hard lines on his face. Any normal person would be uneasy and not know what’s going to happen next, but not me. I see the fire in his eyes, fueled by anger from tonight and desire from wanting me.

“What are we doing out here?” I ask, trying to get anything out of him.

Hash remains silent as he brings his hand to my face, lightly cupping my jaw. His thumb traces my bottom lip as if committing it to memory. My tongue flicks out when he pulls my lip down slightly and licks the tip of his finger. I’m dying to get any sort of taste of him.

His nostrils flare as his attention moves to mouth. Before I can blink, I’m whirled around so I’m facing the car. Hash’s firm hand presses against the middle of my back, leaving me no choice but to bend over. My breasts press into the hood, spilling out of my dress.

“Hash, seriously—” I say as I try to lift my head up. The hand that was pressed firmly in the middle of my back tangles in my hair, getting a good grip before shoving my head back down, leaving me no choice but for my cheek to be smooshed against the hood.

Hash nudges my ankle with his boot, making me widen my stance as he steps between them, owning the space. The hem of my dress is flipped up and over my ass. A shiver runs down my spine as the cool night air hits it.

A loud moan rips from my throat as Hash’s hand comes down hard on my ass. The smack echoing throughout the alley.

“That’s one,” Hash growls.

“What was that for?” I ask, my voice rising from a mix of being turned on and pissed off.

I should be embarrassed that my ass is out on display as I’m bent over the hood of a car, but the thought of someone walking by and seeing us is only adding fuel to the fire that’s burning between my legs.

Hash runs his rough palm over the skin he just marked, soothing it just enough to keep the edge of the burn away before lifting his hand and smacking the same spot again.