“Bedhead doesn’t suit anyone,” she mumbled.
“Reminds me of how you look after you come. Your skin gets flushed and your hair is a mess.”
“It’s too early for that.”
“It’s never too early. Right now I’m thinking about ripping those little shorts off your incredible body and fucking you right here against the wall.”
“Be quiet,” she hissed. “My dad could hear you.”
“So what?” I stepped closer to her, and she didn’t move an inch. “They’ll find out how badly I want to fuck that perfect pussy of yours eventually.”
“No, they won’t, because you’re going to give me that divorce.”
I smirked. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m going to make your body want to stay married to me.”
“Whatever,” she muttered and turned away. I could see the blush in her cheeks, and I knew I had riled her up. I could practically smell how soaked her pussy was, and I bet if I really did push her against the wall and press my fingers against her pussy, they’d come away soaked.
Instead, I followed her into the bathroom.
“What are you doing?” she practically yelled. “You can’t just follow me in here.”
“Word from the parents,” I said. “There’s some dinner bullshit tomorrow night. You’re expected to attend.”
She made a face. “Already? I hate those things.”
“Been to one before?”
“Sure. It’s all old people and sleazy businessmen. Not my scene. I’m amazed your mom never made you go to one.”
“She tried, a long time ago. She stopped trying pretty quick.”
Alex leaned against the counter and crossed her arms. “If I say I’m going, will you get the heck out of here?”
“Maybe,” I said. “Or maybe I want to taste that wet pussy first.”
“I’ll go. Get out.”
I grinned at her. “You sure you don’t want me to get you off? I bet your body is begging for it right now.”
“Out.”
“Your loss.” I turned and left, laughing quietly to myself. I couldn’t help but tease her mercilessly. I loved the way she responded to me, denying in her words but begging in her body language.
My cock was practically tearing through my shorts, but I didn’t care. That was the reason I was sticking around. The look on her fucking cute-as-hell face, that perfect body, those lips, those eyes, that everything. I needed another taste. I was going to get another taste.
Maybe the dinner was the perfect place to show her exactly what she wanted.
“Car’s here,” I said, knocking on her door.
“Just a minute!”
I leaned up against the wall. “How are you not ready yet?”
“I said, just a minute!”
I laughed and shook my head. Finally, after a few minutes she opened the door and stepped out into the hall.
I took a sharp breath. Her dress was the perfect shade of blue, and it made her light skin and pale eyes stand out so much more. It showed just enough cleavage to have me fucking hard already, but not enough to make our parents complain.
“Not too bad,” I said, looking her up and down.
“Can it,” she said. “Let’s go.”
I followed her down the hall and out front, feeling a little stiff in my tuxedo. I hadn’t worn it in a long time, but it still fit. Alex’s ass swayed as we moved toward the front door, and I grinned to myself as we approached my final surprise for the night.
“Where’s the car?” she asked as we got out front.
“There.” I pointed.
“No way.”
I nodded, grinning hugely. “Yes way.”
Parked out front was my mother’s 1970 Shelby Mustang GT350 in bright yellow. I had to admit, I wasn’t much of a car guy, but there was something about classic muscle cars that was just so damn cool.
“Whose car is that?”
“Cindy’s. I’m using it for the evening.” I walked around to the passenger side and opened the door for her. “Your carriage awaits.”
She smiled despite herself and got inside. I closed the door softly and walked around to the other side.
“I have to admit,” she said, “this is kind of cool.”
I hit the ignition and the car roared to life. “Hell yeah it is.”
“Let’s do it.”
I hit play on the tape player and Blue Oyster Cult’s “Don’t Fear the Reaper” came blaring through the speakers as I hit the gas and sped out into traffic.
She laughed loudly as I wove my way toward the suburbs and the banquet hall where the dinner was being held. I was surprised that she seemed to love driving fast as much as I did. The cool night air flooded in through the open windows, and although it whipped our hair around, hers coming undone from the fancy updo she clearly had worked on, she never once complained. In fact, she turned the music up louder and rolled her window down lower.