by Ashley Logan
Glancing down, her cheeks turn a brilliant crimson. "Stop it. You're steaming up my glasses. I'm going to have enough trouble walking to the car as it is," she says, cinching her thighs together to block my scouting fingers from venturing any higher.
The elevator doors open and I nudge her forward. "I think you should walk ahead. Provide me some cover."
"You could hold my bag," she offers, taking it over her head and placing it in my lap. Stroking me before she leaves it there, she shivers. "I, um... where's your car?" she asks, playing with the end of her braid before brushing it over her lips.
"I can't remember. You need to stop touching my dick and playing with your hair so I can think."
Dropping her braid, she stares at me open-mouthed.
"You should close your gorgeous fucking mouth too. Seriously. What's wrong with you? You're a walking wet dream. There isn't enough blood left in my brain to remember where I parked, and I always park in the same place. You're a total hazard," I tease, wheeling around her and heading for the doors. "Come on."
Opening her door, I hand over her bag and head around to the driver's side.
She's staring out the front window when I get in.
"Buckle up," I say, squinting ahead to see what she's looking at. There's a guy walking in the distance with his arm around some nurse. Something about the way he moves seems familiar. "Is that Sodermann?"
When I turn back to her, she's ducking below the windows.
"Right. Well. My dick is officially on its way down." Putting the car in gear, I sigh. "You want me to run him over?"
"You want to add that to the list of reasons I shouldn't be seen with you?"
Chuckling, I glance over at her as I pull away from the curb. "While you're down there..."
"Oh, you want me to pull your pubes?" she asks, making a grab for my crotch as I try and fend her off with my elbows.
"Not fair! I need both hands," I cry. "You'll make me run him over by accident in a second!"
She stops immediately and her head pops up high enough to see out the windshield. "Just act normally or you'll draw attention to us," she says slipping onto the floor.
"Why? You're acting normally enough for the both of us." Laughing, I pull out of the medical complex. "Can you please sit in your seat now? Before I get pulled over and have to explain why there's a nurse stuffed into the foot space of my car. It'll look like I've taken you hostage or something."
Sitting up and pulling on her belt, she throws me a wicked grin. "You can take me hostage anytime."
"Really? How about now?" I ask turning down the next street.
Looking back the way we should be going for a moment, Stacey's wide eyes return to me. "Where are you taking me? I need to be home by midnight."
"Before you turn into a pumpkin?"
Smacking me in the arm, she looks for clues out the window. "We're still heading to Kenmore."
"On an alternate route, with one scheduled stop."
"Oh yeah? Found a new church to desecrate?"
"Don't act like I'm some heathen that violated sacred ground. You were there too. In fact, you demanded I pull over immediately as I recall. Surely it was a sign from the big guy upstairs that he was okay with it. And no," I inform her. "We're not destined for another romantic yet religious interlude. It's our second date, so we have to go somewhere different or you'll assume I'm a one-trick pony."
"You're not?" she teases.
I flash her a grin that makes her blush a little. "I know lots of tricks, sweetheart. If you like, I can show you them all."
"In one night?" she asks, her hands gripping her seat firmly.
Laughing, I shake my head. "Maybe one very long night, several moons from now when I can take my sweet time with you. If I rush through them all tonight, you'll need my chair to get to your front door and that'd make your mom suspicious."
"You talk a big game, Mr. Jenkins. I'll have to set aside some time to test your methods."
"That would be super," I reply, pulling into Benji's family garage and parking between two empty cars.
Stace looks around and laughs. "You're taking me on a tour of Buffalo's parking lots? One steamy parking spot at a time?"
Unclipping my belt and hers, I nod across the street. "Actually, I'm taking you for ice cream."
Staring at the abandoned lot of the empty Dairy Queen opposite, Stace straightens her dark frames as she squints. "I'm pretty sure it's closed."
"It is," I confirm, digging into the center console and pulling out a pint of Ben and Jerry's vanilla ice-cream and two spoons.
Grinning, she takes a spoon. "You do have some good tricks."
"Why thank you." Opening the tub of ice-cream, I offer it to her first.
"Such a gentleman," she says with a smile as she digs in.
"I tried to explain that to Bruno, but he was left unconvinced," I say as she wraps her lips around her spoon. "Damn you're good at that."
"At what?" she asks innocently, licking her spoon and then her lips. "Eating ice-cream?"
Hypnotized by her mouth, I nod.
"Well, I've had a lot of practice," she says with a sexy smile. "It was my favorite naughty treat before you came back into my life. You want some?"
Blinking the spoon she's offering into focus, I open my mouth and she slips it in. Leaning in as she pulls her spoon back out, she licks my lips. "Missed some."
Dropping my spoon, I pull her back to my lips as I try to set the tub of ice-cream on the dash.
"What are you doing?" She laughs, pushing me away. "You're going to get ice-cream on my uniform."
"You started it."
Lifting her shirt over her head and shucking off her pants, she tucks them safely out of harm's way as I look on in shock and awe.
"You going to let me finish it?" she asks, taking another spoonful from the tub she's stolen from me. Setting it up behind my wheel as she leans her fantastic breasts over me, I cry out when she pulls the lever on my seat, sending me backwards. "I like that you parked in this lot, between these empty cars. It's much darker here than over at DQ."
Pulling her body over mine, she bends down to lick my lips again. "You going to take your shirt off too?"
"Fuck yes."
She leans back and I whip it over my head as she undoes her bra from behind. Her bare breasts press into my chest as she bends to kiss me. Humming in approval as her nipples drag over my chest hair, she grinds against me as I invite her teasing tongue into my mouth and my hands take their fill of her.
"Mmm," I groan, breaking our kiss so I can look down at her perfect tits bulging against my skin. "And to think I was just going to have ice-cream. Your dessert is so much better."
Sitting up on me, she reaches behind her. "You can have me a la mode if you like," she says, taking a full spoon between those luscious lips before holding out a spoonful for me.
Pushing myself up to take it, I then dip my head to take her nipple in my mouth, growing harder still at the sound of her gasp. Sucking and licking all traces of ice-cream from her breast, I take her other nipple between my teeth and tug it gently.
"Holy fuck," she whispers as her hips grind into me. "Tell me you have another condom."
Fumbling with the center console, I manage to hook out my wallet. Rushing to extract the foil wrapper, I drop it, but Stace scoops it up, pulls it out and in the next blur of moments, she's sinking onto me in a rush of heat.
Ice-cream forgotten, she rolls her hips with a moan that strikes through my body to my dick. Pulling her down, I take her mouth in one hell of a kiss as she rides me.
Running my hands over her soft skin to slow her, I drive her down on me at a different angle and she whimpers.
"That's it, babe. Right there. Nice and slow."
Her eyes lock on mine and I nod. "I've got you. Rub that beautiful body all over me. I want to smell like you for days." My dick jerks at the thought and Stace utters another sexy noise as she moves with the extra pressure I'm applying to her hips.
/> "Mmm. You feel so fucking good, Stace. I wish I could live balls deep in you."
"Such a sweet-talker," she says with a giggle, but soon cuts it short with another moan when I alter her position again. Slipping into pleasure mode, Stace moves against me with unrestrained passion as if unable to keep herself from seeking release. Biting her lip, her eyes meet mine as she starts to tighten around me.
"I'm there too," I whisper, slipping my hands around her ass and pulling her to me as she starts to fall apart.
Those beautiful eyes do their best to cling to mine, but the power of her climax overwhelms her. Her lashes flutter against her rosy cheeks as she pants damning words at my sexual prowess and squeezes my dick inside her. My own vision blanks after that as I pull her lips to mine, grunting my own release into her hot depths.
The intensity of our kisses drop to a leisurely pace as our bodies recover from such a high. Enjoying her soft lips with long, languid passes, I hold her tighter when she starts to pull away.
"Not yet."
Relaxing into me again, she runs her tongue lightly over my lips before nuzzling my cheek. "I don't have a choice. And the ice-cream will be melting. You can't actually live balls deep inside me," she adds with a smile. "I'd never get anything done."
Moaning as she extracts herself from me, I shiver. "I'm having withdrawals already."
"Suck it up. You need to drive me home."
Muttering a few choice words, I deal with the condom and pull my clothes back on. "Maybe I'll just kidnap you."
"As much as I'd like to role-play that Stockholm syndrome scenario with you, I have a little boy to think about."
"I'll kidnap him too."
Pausing as she starts to pull her shirt over her head, she stares at me. Saying nothing, she continues to dress, flipping her braid out and then bending forward to put her shoes back on.
"I mean it. I want you. All of you. All the time."
Not looking up, she shakes her head. "I can't."
"Not yet. I know. I was just saying what I wanted," I reply, starting the car as she sits up and pulls on her seatbelt. I hand her the ice-cream. "As much as I enjoyed this evening, I really did just want to share ice-cream with you again."
Pulling out of the lot and back onto the street in the direction of her house. Glancing at the clock, I sigh. "I hope you understand that I want more than thirty minutes with you."
"We achieve quite a lot in thirty minutes," she says, pulling the spoon from her smiling mouth and pointing it at me in challenge.
Looking at her sideways, I say nothing as I pull into her quiet street and park down from Alfred again.
"I understand," she says quietly, then smiles. "You made it quite clear that you'd like to live balls deep in me, remember?"
Twisting in my seat to face her better, I sigh and wipe a touch of ice-cream from her top lip.
"I also want you to want me the same way," I admit in a whisper. "I want to live balls deep in your heart."
Her lips twitch a little as she searches my face, but her eyes soon shift away.
"Bradley Jenkins the romantic," she mumbles as she gathers her bag. "Born with a silver tongue."
Fuck it. I'm coming on too heavy. Lighten the mood Bradley!
"You haven't even begun to see what my tongue is capable of, but I'll be glad to offer a demonstration anytime." I pull my shit-eating grin and hope it's enough to make her smile. "Or I could just come and work on your car on Saturday."
Stace runs her tongue over her teeth and hands me back the last of the ice-cream. "Maybe both," she says with a playful smile. "Thanks for the hot date."
Leaning in for a quick kiss, she opens her door and hesitates. Looking me over, she draws her bottom lip into her mouth.
"I might move fast physically, but emotionally, I'm a little more cautious these days. I like you, Brad. Really like you," she adds, wringing her bag strap with her hands. "I'm just... trapped. A bird in a cage. When I'm with you, it's like the cage opens, but technically I'm still trapped in a room. I need a window to open before I can really fly." Her distant gaze becomes focused on me and she takes my hand. "I'm waiting for my window Brad, but I don't want you to feel like you have to open it because I'm flying in circles over your head. Let's just take it one day at a time and when my window opens, if the winds are in our favor, I'll come and perch on yours."
Blinking at her a moment, I sweep a wisp of dark hair behind her ear and brush her cheek with the back of my knuckles. "I have no idea what you're talking about, but if you want me to back off a little, I will. I don't want you to feel caged with me. Wild beauty should never be tamed."
Leaning back in my seat, I break eye contact. "I'll see you Saturday. Bright and early. Ry should wear old clothes if he's going to help me. You can wear whatever you like. I'll be picturing you naked regardless."
Stace climbs out and leans back in. "What will you be wearing?"
Her cheeks are rouged and her lips are pressed together, but don't hide her smile.
"If I'm anywhere near you? A huge fucking smile. Now get inside before your mom comes looking for you."
Blowing me a kiss, she practically skips to the sidewalk before visibly calming herself, smoothing her clothes and walking towards her house as if her evening were completely uneventful.
CHAPTER EIGHT
STACE
When you have a bundle of nerves in your stomach threatening to spew out of your mouth, acting normally is rather difficult. Plastering a low grade smile on my face as I encourage Ry to finish his breakfast, I try not to avoid eye contact with my mother completely. That would only increase her suspicions.
"So he just happened to offer his services?" she asks, unconvinced.
"Technically, I'm paying him," I correct her.
The 'hmpf' sound she utters makes me throw up a little in my mouth and I swallow my mouthful of cereal with effort.
"I presumed you'd be paying him somehow," she says, eying my shorts and tank top before clearing her dishes to the sink. "Goodness knows you don't have any extra cash to flaunt."
Because I give most of it to you to cover room, board and childcare, not to mention your medical bills and whatever is left goes to student loans.
"I've been saving a long time to get the car fixed. Brad has offered to do it for less than I was quoted. I can't pass that up. I've been begging rides from my co-workers so long they think I'm lying about ever fixing it. And weren't we just saying the other day that it would be nice for Ry to have some male role models?" I ask, feeling a little braver. "What better role model than a real live hero?"
"Brad's a hero?" Ry pipes up.
"Your mother thinks anyone who carries on after an injury is a hero," Mom says, ruffling his hair. "That's why she's a nurse. So she can surround herself with heroes. We're all heroes in her eyes." Scoffing, she hobbles to the coffee pot.
Frowning, I lower my face to Ry. "Firstly, people who continue the fight to live after tragic injury or circumstance are indeed heroes. And secondly, someone who fights for their country, and saves the lives of others while endangering their own is a hero. Brad is both. He is also a reputable mechanic."
"And an artist," Ry adds.
"Yes. And an artist," I confirm. "I believe that's his full-time occupation these days, which goes to prove how good he must be." Smiling as I chew my next mouthful, I avoid my mother's eyes, knowing she'll never accept my subjective opinion on the matter without a host of debasing assumptions.
The doorbell rings and I have to restrain myself from running for the door. Ry jumps up and I tell him to clear his dishes first. Already done with mine, I head for the door, scolding myself for being jealous that Ry might get today's first glimpse of the man on the other side.
I can't believe that I asked him to ease off. It was the right thing to do for now, but inside, I want anything but. I spend every spare second thinking about him. It's dangerous.
Opening the door, I lean against it. "Good morning Mr. Jenkins."
&nbs
p; His eyes slowly scroll upward from my legs, setting my skin aflame as I imagine his hands doing the same. Eventually he meets my eyes. "Ms. Lane."
Leaning sideways, he smiles. "Ryan. How was breakfast?"
"Good!" Ry replies, bursting past me and jumping down the steps. Frowning, I turn back to Brad.
"How did you get up the steps?"
He looks behind him, and laughs. "It's not like there's a lot of them. But if you must know..." Pulling a pose fit for a bodybuilder, Brad watches me with amusement as he flexes his bulging arms.
Jerk. He's got to know I love those fucking arms.
Ignoring the ache in my core, I raise my chin.
"That why you had to wear a tank? Arms too big for sleeves?"
"Yeah. What's your excuse? The heat?" Grinning, he gives me a wink and makes his way back down the steps. "Got your keys? I noticed your car was locked."
"I'll just grab them. Ry!" I call over his head, "Don't go on the road!"
Brad waves me off. "I'll keep an eye on him."
Heading into the house to get my keys off the hook, I see Mom watching me from the darkened doorway.
Not creepy at all.
"I hope you're going to supervise that man with your son. There are that many terrible cases in the news these days."
Wrinkling my nose, I adjust my glasses. "Brad's not a pedophile, Mom. Gross. But yes, I did plan on supervising. Mainly to keep Ry from getting in the way of my car being fixed. Brad said he's got a tow truck coming later this afternoon to take it to his friend's garage for the big stuff."
"I wasn't suggesting he was a pedophile. He looks as though he could kill a man with one punch. A little boy would have no chance if he decided to lash out."
"Why would he lash out?" I say dismissively, shaking my head and leaving before I get cornered, and somehow forced to admit that explosive violence has been an issue for Brad in the past.
Out the door and down the steps at a trot, I slow as I near the boys. Deep in conversation, they're oblivious to my approach as Brad explains the damage to his leg, using his hands to re-enact the recent wheelchair-flipping incident. Ryan's eye are almost popping out of his head, and the second he starts eying up Brads chair, I step in.