Chapter 9 #3
His hands cradled my ass possessively while he tugged my lower lip between his to suck deep.
I whimpered, feeling the start of a climax building in my lower belly.
Grabbing his shoulders, I pushed back, chest heaving as I worked to catch my breath.
The urge to come was almost impossible to deny, but no way was I about to embarrass myself a second time.
“Work,” I rasped, pointing to the doors.
He slid me down his body, my teeth clenching at the friction against my aching cock. Once on my feet, I raced ahead of him, covertly adjusting my junk in my pants.
Inside his blacked-out SUV, he asked for my address. When I gave it to him, his RBF turned even darker. If he hadn’t just kissed me senseless, I might have been intimidated.
The ride across Buffalo was longer than I would have liked, but wasn’t every drive when you were worried about being late and getting fired?
My nerves at the max, both feet bounced against the floorboard, making my knees jump restlessly.
My gaze alternated between the road and the clock as I chewed my thumbnail so short it started to bleed.
The stinging pain brought me out of the anxiety-induced fog, and I started down at my nail, now smeared with red.
A much larger hand wrapped around mine and tugged it across the center console. “Why do you do this?” he demanded.
“It’s not on purpose. I don’t even realize I’m doing it half the time,” I replied, trying to tug out of his grip.
Kieran’s hand tightened around mine, but his eyes stayed focused out the windshield and his mouth stayed shut.
Shame swept through me, leaving me tired and maybe a little hopeless. Looking at my uneven, bleeding nails and torn cuticles, dirty jeans, shoeless feet, and then at the man beside me with his wrinkle-free dress shirt, unfaded black jeans, and neat, unblemished hands, I felt inferior.
In that moment, I could see why the bad habit would disgust him. Most of the time, it disgusted me too. Even still, it was something I couldn’t stop no matter how much I tried.
“My counselor told me that onychophagia is a common body-focused repetitive behavior. She said mine is likely triggered by anxiety and that I bite my nails as a way to self-soothe, an outlet for tension.”
Kieran glanced at me. “You have a counselor?”
“Not anymore. But when I was a ward of the state, they made us talk to one regularly. I haven’t seen her since I aged out of the system.”
The muscle in his jaw bulged, and it made me feel like I did something wrong.
“I know it’s ugly a-and dirty,” I said, once more trying to pull my hand away to tuck it into my lap with the other.
“You d-don’t h-have—” I stopped to drag in a breath.
The stuttering was also something I’d always done.
I was teased for it mercilessly when I was younger.
My counselor said that was also probably because of anxiety.
Kieran caught my hand before it could slip away, this time tugging it harder so my body leaned toward him. His lips closed around my thumb.
I stared dumbfounded as his tongue swirled around the tip, swiping across the torn skin and then sucking gently. My belly wobbled as I watched his lips move gently over my thumb, the heat of his mouth stirring my dick yet again.
Releasing it, he glanced at it briefly and then gently returned my hand to my lap. I gaped at him, curling my fingers in so I could hold on to the feeling of him just another moment more.
“I don’t like when you do that.”
I scowled, about to tell him it wasn’t like I enjoyed it either, but trying to quit—
“Not because it’s ugly. Nothing about you is ugly. Because it’s clearly painful and you could get an infection.”
We turned onto my street, which I was grateful for because I didn’t know what to say. I had no experience with anyone acting like they cared. I wasn’t even sure if that was what this was.
“Up there on the left,” I said, pointing at my building.
He pulled to the curb and stared at the dilapidated apartment complex that I called home.
“Thanks for the ride,” I said, jamming my feet into my shoes and grabbing the door handle. “I’ll, ah, see you later.” I knew that was what he said, but I still had some doubt there. But I didn’t have time to worry about it. I had to change and get to work.
He didn’t even acknowledge the thank-you and goodbye. Instead, he turned off the engine and reached for his door handle.
“What are you doing?” I asked, suddenly alarmed.
“Coming in with you while you get dressed. I’ll drive you to work when you’re done.”
“You can’t!”
He looked at me then, blue eyes steady. “Why?”
“I-I’m sure you're busy. You probably have work too.” I paused. “Do you have a job?” I shook my head. What a dumb question. Of course he does. “I can get myself to work from here.”
“I have time to drive you.”
I knew that tone. It was the I always win tone.
“You can’t come up,” I blurted out.
He raised an eyebrow. I was starting to wonder if that eyebrow had a mind of its own. “Is there something you don’t want me to see?”
“W-what?”
His eyes narrowed into blue slits. “Someone.”
My mind worked much slower than his. I hadn’t even comprehended the implication, and he was already across the center console, face close to mine, his hand wrapped loosely around my throat.
“Let me make it crystal clear, little hazard, that what’s mine is mine. So if there is someone in your life that shouldn’t be there, I will remove them.”
Remove them? “I live alone.”
He pulled his hand from my throat, and I knew the urge to ask him to put it back.
He started out of the SUV, but I grabbed his sleeve. “Wait. Please.”
He glanced over his shoulder.
My face fumed. “It’s a disaster up there.”
His brows pinched together. “Like messy?”
Messy. Outdated. My mattress was on the floor, and there were stains on the ceiling from a water leak. It was a far, far cry from his place across town.
I nodded. “Your neat-freak brain might explode if you see it.”
He glowered. “I am not a neat freak.”
“Your entire apartment was spotless.”
“I like order.”
“Well, everything about me is disordered. And I don’t want you to come up. I’ll change fast and come right back down. Then you can drive me to the Neon Reef.”
“I want to see where you live.”
“You can come up. After I clean it up.”
He looked like he was about to refuse, so I batted my eyes. “Please, Kieran.”
He sighed. “Fine. Hurry up.”
I bounced forward, smacking a kiss against his scruff, and bolted from the car before he could argue.