41. Ford
FORD
I have a problem. Okay, problem might be a bit of a strong term, but considering how foreign the entire thing is, I can’t find a better word to describe the deep shit I’m in.
I like June Withers. I like her for more than her body.
I like her mind. Her smile. The way she gets nervous and can’t look me in the eye.
I like the way she flipped off Roman tonight, and the way she squealed when I took the last turn.
But most of all? I liked the way she looked at me.
Don’t get me wrong. I like the way she always looks at me, but tonight?
When I was driving Esmerelda, she looked at me like… like I was worth it.
I’ve never been worth it before. The headache. The effort. The sarcasm. A good fuck, sure. A solid bet, definitely. But me, in general? Not so much.
“Thanks again for tonight,” June murmurs. Her shy smile is back with a vengeance as she peeks up at me.
“Anytime, Bug.”
It’s late. After the race, we hung out, had a couple of beers, and celebrated the limelight until I caught June’s yawn and offered to drive her home. Now, here we are, standing in front of her apartment building.
“I had a lot of fun,” she says.
“Me, too.”
“And the race?” She whistles. “That was insane.”
“Yeah.” I nod. “Yeah, it was.”
“Thanks for, uh, for twisting my arm,” she adds. “I know I was a little hesitant to ride with you, but…” She nibbles the edge of her bottom lip. “I had a really good time.”
“No problem.” Reaching for her fingers, I run my thumb along her soft knuckles. “And just so we’re clear, I wouldn’t have wanted anyone else in the passenger seat.”
A pink tinge blooms across her cheeks as she looks down at our feet.
It’s awkward and adorable and addictive in a way I don’t fully understand.
But most of all? It’s refreshing. Being around someone who’s genuine and honest. Good and kind.
Gentle and patient. I bend closer and kiss her softly, breathing her in. Fuck, I really like this girl.
“Goodnight, June Bug,” I murmur against her lips.
When I pull away, she gives me a look that makes me feel like I just told her I never want to see her again.
“Goodnight?” she asks.
Well, shit. I’m not sure what she expects me to say.
Yeah, we’re in front of her apartment, and yeah, I’d love to come upstairs, but I’m also trying to treat her differently than every other hookup I’ve ever had.
Assuming shit will get us nowhere, and treating her like she’s nothing but a random hookup is the last thing I want.
“Figured I should probably head back to Uncle Judge’s,” I explain.
“Oh.” Her nod is slow, but I don’t miss the disappointment in her pretty gaze. “Smart.”
Actually, I feel like a dumbass right now, but hey. You win some, you lose some.
“He probably misses you,” she adds, though I’m not sure who she’s trying to convince.
Squeezing the back of my neck, I reply, “Not sure I’d go that far.”
Her eyes catch on my bulging bicep in the light of the street lamp, and she bites her bottom lip again.
Someone’s only thinking about one thing.
And even though I’m used to being looked at like a bit of a whore, when June does it, it’s not so bad.
Actually, it kind of makes me want to pound my chest, throw her over my shoulder, and fuck her brains out, but I restrain myself. For now.
Yeah. I think I’m gonna wait this one out.
What you gonna do, June Bug?
Folding my arms over my chest, I watch the wheels turn in her pretty little head. The indecision. The tip of her tongue peeking between her lips. The curious stare still glued to my biceps.
Ball’s in your court, Bug. You gonna ask me to stay?
“Um.” She swallows.
“Yes, June?”
She tugs on her earlobe and steals another peek up at me. “I had fun tonight.”
“You mentioned that,” I note.
“Yeah, and I just…I know you said you should probably get back to your uncle’s, but…
” Slowly, she rises onto her tiptoes and presses her lips against mine, initiating a kiss for the first time…
ever. Soft. Hesitant. Just like my June.
I hold back my smile, letting her take the lead as she explores me at her own pace.
It’s as sweet and unsure as her first lap dance, but fuck, if it doesn’t feel like an aphrodisiac.
When she finally pulls away, she murmurs, “I, uh, I think I’d miss you, too. ”
The organ in my chest squeezes. “Yeah?”
“Mm-hmm.” She swings our still-tangled fingers from side to side. “And I know you’re probably still riding the high of tonight’s win, but if you’d like to, you know…”
“What?” I push.
With one final squeeze, she untangles our fingers, wraps her arms around my neck, and goes in for another kiss. I fight the urge to pull her closer until she presses her curves into me. My cock stirs at the innocent touch, jerking in my damn jeans as her grip on my hair tugs.
All right, June Bug. You want to play things this way? I’m game.
I snake my arm around her waist, growling against her, “Tell me to come upstairs.”
She smiles against my mouth. “You should come up—”
Gripping the backs of her thighs, I lift her, forcing her legs around my waist.
“Ford!” she squeals. “Put me down! You’re going to hurt yourself!”
I smack her round ass and carry her up the stairs. “I thought you were in the process of asking me to fuck you, not insinuating I’m too weak to carry you.”
“Ford, I’m serious—”
“As ED. Yes, I’m aware,” I peck her lips. “Now, get your keys out, or I’ll have to fuck you on your welcome mat.”
Eyes wide, she digs out her keys from her purse while I finish carrying her up the stairs.
I don’t know what it is about girls. The way each of them flocks to the idea of being light as a feather.
Don’t get me wrong. Despite my vocal obsession with curvy girls, I think all women are beautiful.
They come in different shapes and sizes, and each one is deserving of love and attention.
But for the masses to completely veto an entire group of women based on a number on a scale?
It’s ridiculous. However, when my June Bug tries to wiggle free from my hold, I smack her ass again and nip at her bottom lip.
“You keep acting out like this, and I’m gonna have to smack your ass—”
“You already did.”
“Naked,” I finish. “I’m gonna have to smack your ass naked.”
Something flashes in her eyes. Without a word, she holds out the apartment key for me.
I press her back to the door so I have a free hand and take the keys, unlock the door, then step over the threshold.
My mouth is on hers again in an instant.
Dueling. Biting. Tasting. Sucking. Her hands roam my back, my nape, my skull, my jaw.
It’s as if she’s memorizing the feel of me the same way I’m memorizing her taste, and fuck, does she taste perfect.
I carry her to her room, then set her down.
Thank fuck, Violet’s with Jagger tonight because I’m not sure I’d be able to control myself even if June’s roommate was home for the evening.
June’s too damn enticing. My hand slips beneath her top as I deepen the kiss again, exploring every inch.
She’s so warm and supple. So perfect. I get it now.
Why Jagger has no issue committing to Violet, even when I spent way too much time giving him shit for settling down.
Truth be told, I always wondered if I was capable of wanting someone more than once or twice.
I thought I’d grow bored. That I’d already seen everything, experienced everything, so what else was there to enjoy?
But now that I’m here, with my hands on June’s bare skin and my mouth dragging across hers, the idea doesn’t seem so incomprehensible.
Nah, it seems…easy. To get lost in her. Her smell, her taste, her touch. All of it.
“I want you,” she whispers before undoing her jeans, shoving them and her underwear down her thick thighs. I help her out, shimmying the thick material until every inch is exposed and ready for me to explore.
Spreading her folds, I tease her clit, drawing small circles as she whimpers like a little mouse.
The noise is enough to make me insane, and I swallow the sound, kissing her.
She tastes like berries. Sweet. Ripe for the picking.
Pressing into her, I tease her mouth with my tongue, and she drags her own against me in response.
The feeling shoots straight to my cock, and I close my eyes, letting them roll back in my head.
When her fingers grab hold of my shirt, I smile.
I like this side of her. Desperate and needy.
She tugs me closer, pressing her chest against mine.
It reminds me of the first time we came together.
The sight of her tits, her perfect nipples.
My mouth waters as I lean her back onto the mattress.
Without protest, she follows my guidance, spreading her legs and giving me the perfect view of her sublime fucking pussy swallowing my finger as I continue teasing her slit.
My cock weeps at the sight.
Lying beside her, I add a second finger, feeling the familiar stretch of her pussy around me while I unbutton her blouse with my free hand. My mouth follows suit. I pepper kisses along every inch of skin.
“Ford,” she whimpers.
“I got you, Bug.” I press my mouth to the fading bruises from the last time we were like this.
The memory alone is enough to make me want to come in my jeans like before.
Removing my fingers from her pussy, I drag her wetness to her clit, playing with the small nub as she arches her back, practically bowing off the mattress.
“Want you,” she moans. “Need you.”
It’s the second plea that does me in. That makes me want to pound my fucking chest like a neanderthal and toss the perfect woman splayed out in front of me over my shoulder before parading her for all to see. Me. She needs me. Not my cock. Not my fingers. Me.