“We have an errand to run,” I said, giving her a brief glance and shaking my head at the fact that she wasn’t wearing her jacket at all. “Aren’t you cold?”
She shrugged, running a hand over the dashboard of my car. “I’m kind of used to it by now. Umm, this car is sexy. You realize that, right?”
Of course I did. I was a guy, and I drove a black 2015 BMW M6 Gran Coupe. It was what would happen if the greatest car in the world got knocked up by the mother of all orgasms and then gave birth. Instead I just smiled and watched her run her thin, graceful fingers over every surface she could touch. I thought she might look out of place in my car, but with her leggings, ratty denim skirt, banged-up cowboy boots, Rolling Stones t-shirt, messy ponytail and fresh face, she looked shockingly at ease against the leather seats.
“God,” she moaned and sank into the bucket seat, “I should do you just for letting me ride in this beauty.”
“Yes, but then we might mess up the seats.” I looked over at her. “That’s not allowed.”
Adele rolled her eyes, and turned to the window, looking at our surroundings. “Seriously, where are you taking me?”
I didn’t answer, just reached across the console and gripped the top of her thigh, loving the way that I could feel the heat of her skin clear through the soft material of her leggings. She shifted so she was angled toward me and I dug my fingers harder into her toned flesh. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re incredibly impatient?”
“A time or two,” she said on a sigh.
We drove the rest of the way in contented silence, and I never felt the need to remove my hand, just let it settle on her. For some reason, the fact that she didn’t try to hold my hand back or seduce me during the drive made me happy. It was possible for us to just be in the same space together.
When I swung the car into the parking lot, she gave me a curious look that I could see clearly in my peripheral thanks to the cuts of light that came through the window.
Toward the back of the lot, where there weren’t any bright lights illuminating the empty row of spots, I pulled my car and threw it in park.
“Is this the part where we do it?”
I sighed and leaned up, extracting my wallet from the back pocket of my pants. When I’d pulled the cash from my wallet, I held it up between us, relishing the way her brows folded in toward each other, over her narrowed eyes.
“You have two choices—”
“I pick the sex,” she said instantly.
“—you can go in yourself and find a coat that you like, or you can wait here while I pick something out for you.”
Her mouth dropped open, her forehead smoothing instantly.
“But just know, I’ll probably get your size wrong and will pick the biggest, puffiest coat that will cover you from the bottom of your chin to your knees.”
“You’re buying me a coat,” she said slowly, eyes moving rapidly between mine.
I nodded. “You have ten seconds before I go in there and find one. Puffy. To the knee.”
Adele reached for the money tentatively, eyes taking on a vulnerable wideness that I’d never seen on her before. I smiled when she finally grabbed it and shoved it into the front pocket of her skirt. Before she left the car, she looked back and gave me a shy smile.
“Thank you.”
“Go, before I change my mind.”
I chuckled at how quickly the door slammed shut and once she was out of the car, I took a deep breath. A lingering smell remained after she’d left, and I shamelessly inhaled it. It wasn’t flowery, wasn’t even all that feminine. It was spicy, almost like sandalwood, something you’d typically find in cologne. But there was the slightest sweet edge to it. Vanilla, maybe. Sandalwood and vanilla.
Honestly, it just smelled like sex to me, probably because sex with Adele had redefined what the word meant. Perfect. Thinking the word sex in the same sentence with Adele was making me hard. While I sat there, thinking about Shakespeare and conjugating verbs and dead kittens, anything to take my mind off se—that word I wasn’t going to think about tonight, the passenger door was yanked open.
“That didn’t take long.”
“No,” she said, tossing the bag into the back seat. I raised my eyebrows. Then they kept going up when she stripped her shirt off over her head, leaving her in just a hot pink satin bra, her breasts pushed up over the cups. “But this is going to.”
Then she slid over the console and straddled my lap. I held up my hands, frantically looking out the windows into the yawning darkness. “Adele, what the fuck are you doing?”
She swiveled her hips, grinding on my instantly hard cock. Fucking traitor. Then she dipped in and kissed me. I mean, she kissed the hell out of me, sucking my tongue into her mouth and biting at my lips like she was starving. I slid my hands up her thighs, belatedly noticing that her leggings had disappeared during her trip into the store. So I did what any red-blooded, heterosexual male would do when a half-naked woman wearing cowboy boots straddled his lap and started fucking his mouth. I fucked it right back, making lewd motions with my tongue against hers. After a few minutes, she pulled back and just breathed heavily.