“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.
I was in awe. Part of me had wanted to mess with her, but my plan was backfiring. Clearly, there was more to Alexa than I had thought.
Attractive stepsister slash wife at my side, we sped through the cool California night, whipping wide around slower cars, rubber screeching over pavement, the stars coming in through the past and exiting further into it.
We enjoyed the ride in silence, not bothering to try to make small talk. We got to the banquet hall much sooner than I had expected, though, and I was a little disappointed that I had to stop driving. I would have loved to keep going with her by my side, but duty called. I parked and helped her out, and we walked into the venue together. We found our place cards and wove our way through the surprisingly large crowd.
“Alexa!” Frank said as we approached, clearly surprised as we made our way to the table. “What are you doing here?”
“Cindy demanded we come,” I explained.
He nodded, smiling. “Well, I’m glad you’re both here.”
We took our seats at the head table as Frank returned to his conversation with another old white dude. I felt completely out of place among the stuffy rich people, but Alexa seemed totally fine. In fact, she shook hands and smiled like she was born for it.
I knocked back my drink and gestured for one of the staff to bring me another. I might as well try to enjoy myself if I was going to have to endure that all night long.
“You’re good at this,” I grunted into Alexa’s ear after a half hour. She smiled at me.
“It’s easy. Just don’t act like a jerk and you’re fine.”