Whisper to Me(69)

“You’re way braver than I ever was, Turtle,” I said, trying to get back there. To that place where we were on the same page. Friends. Confidants.

Lovers.

Fuck.

I turned the key to start the ignition. I had the strong urge to vacate this place. Leave these heavy feelings behind. Get on the open road and just drive.

All at once her warm hand was on my leg. “And I need to think of a way to thank you.”

“There’s no need for that, Rachel,” I said, meeting her eyes. “That’s what friends are for.”

As I crawled along the lot toward the exit, Rachel’s fingers stayed on my thigh. They ran lazy circles while she talked about the grand opening of her mom’s boutique in a couple of weeks. “You’ll be there, right?”

“Of course I will,” I said, in an effort to catch my breath.

Her fingers skimmed higher up my leg, and I stilled them with my own. “If you keep that up, I’m not going to be able to sleep tonight.”

She scooted over on the seat, biting her lip, suddenly unsure of herself.

My fingers reached for her face and I traced her forehead, the hollow of her cheek, the outline of her lips. She was all beautiful curves and sharp angles. I longed to protect her and hold her. Whisper sweet promises in her ear.

But she was a contradiction beneath my touch. Her eyes were now alight with flame and desire. Her touch seductive and playful. But in the very depths of her heart were hesitation and doubt, and that made me shrink back with uncertainty and fear.

She leaned over to kiss my neck, and her hand tugged at my hair.

“Are you trying to run me off the road?” I whispered.

“You’re just going to have to pay better attention,” she mumbled as she caught my earlobe between her teeth. “I trust you.”

My heart swelled painfully in my chest. “Good thing I’m taking the back roads,” I mumbled, turning left onto Bailey Boulevard.

Her hand reached lower to flick open the button on my pants.

“Rach . . .” I said in warning, but it was a deflated effort, because I was already hard as goddamn marble just from her lips being near me.

She pulled down my zipper, and her warm hand skimmed beneath my waistband. It was a struggle to pay attention to the road, with her scent wrapped all around me. But it was late and dark and there were no cars ahead or behind us.

Her fingers moved downward and when she gripped my head, I groaned.

She pulled my dick out of my pants and ran her fingers over the underside of my shaft as if examining it. I gasped for air and gripped the steering wheel tighter. “What kind of piercing is this, anyway?”

“Why, are you taking notes?” I said, slowing down at a stop sign. “It’s called a frenum, and it’s pretty tame in comparison to some. I hear sex can be mind-blowing with the other kinds.”

“Is that why you got this?” She slid her pinky finger through the hoop of my piercing, making me insane with need. “So that you could have better sex?”

“Not exactly,” I huffed, as she began pumping her fingers up and down my shaft, pulling the sensitive skin near my piercing taut.

But maybe there was some truth to that. If I was being honest, I got some of these piercings so that I’d actually feel something besides numb. And they did the trick, for brief snatches of time. “Sex can be terrible no matter what—you know that.”

“I do know that,” she said. And I gritted my teeth because I hated hearing it.

I was still at a crossroads and there were no cars in sight. Even so, I didn’t want to be reckless, not with Rachel. Not when she always put so much faith in me. So I decided to drive ahead, until I found someplace safe to pull over.

Her mouth moved to my ear. “I’m getting worked up thinking about how this would feel inside me. How you would feel inside me.”

“Fuck, Rachel.”

“So maybe you should find somewhere to park.” And then her head was between my legs and I felt the flick of her hot tongue running over my piercing. I groaned and clutched at her hair.

“What the hell are you up to?” I considered asking her to stop because I was wound too damn tight. But I was pretty sure if she pulled away now, I’d die a slow and painful death.

Her lips were around my swollen tip, her mouth was wet and warm, and as she licked and sucked, I was sure I was going to explode in another few seconds. Because the sight of having her between my legs was enough to sustain my fantasies for years to come.

As I searched for a place to stop, her tongue slid seductively up my shaft. “I told you I wanted to thank you.”

That statement threw a bucket of ice on my libido. I jerked the wheel and pulled off the side of the road. “Whoa, Rachel. Hold up a minute.”