Chapter 15
I should stop asking myself what I’m doing.
It’s a stupid question. I know exactly what I’m doing.
I’m getting involved with my brother’s ex, a girl I always thought of as my little sister.
And it’s not just about hooking up. I’m starting to feel things.
Possessive things. Protective, but less like a brother, and more like. .. fuck, I don’t know.
It’s strange having Saylor in my personal space.
She’s not just a girl I picked up at the car show, or one of the women who hang around the courts to watch me shoot.
I have always been upfront with any girl I brought home with me for the night.
It’s always for the night. There’s an agreement between us.
No expectations or false hopes beyond two people making each other feel good for a while.
No matter how hard I try to force that conversation now with Saylor, though, I can’t seem to get the words out. I don’t want this to be the only time she’s here.
And that’s a problem.
For a lot of reasons.
“You must really love your work,” she says, dropping her small backpack by the door then running her palm along the small kitchenette counter in my studio apartment attached to the shop.
“Saves on security costs,” I joke, tossing my wallet, phone, and keys on the small card table that doubles as my dining room.
Saylor glances at me with a short breath and a smile.
“So that shower I used the other day . . .” She tilts her head toward the open door that leads to the garage and the short hallway to the shower.
“It’s more of a shared shower, but yeah. That’s mine,” I say, my mind drifting to the memory of her naked, wet body through that barely opaque glass. Her gaze lingers on mine for a moment, her lip curled up on one side in this half-guilty, half-seductress way.
I pull out one of two wooden chairs at the table while she continues to explore the room, pausing at the set of framed photos propped up on my dresser. She picks up one of Caleb and me when we were kids at the go-kart races.
“How old are you in this?” She flips the frame around and clutches it to her chest. I don’t need the visual, though. I remember that day as if it were yesterday, though. It was one of those few perfect family moments, before . . . well . . . before.
“Ten, I think. Caleb was five. It was his birthday, but he wasn’t tall enough to drive on his own, so he rode with me.
” I chuckle through a growing crooked smile.
“His helmet was too big, too, so our mom took the pads out of her bra and stuffed them in the helmet to keep it from slipping over his eyes.”
Saylor’s laugh is soft, and her gaze shifts back to the photo as she puts it back in its place.
“It’s probably dusty up there. Sorry,” I say, my head falling to the side as I study her.
She shrugs before blowing the dust from another photo.
“You keep a tidy place. You can’t be perfect,” she says, her eyes crinkling at the sides to match her wide grin.
“I don’t get a lot of guests,” I admit.
Her eyes dim as her lips purse.
“Hmmm, I doubt that. I bet there’s been a few guests in this place, maybe sleepover guests?
” Her brow arches, and her curious expression makes my chest tighten.
I don’t really want to talk about the women who have been here for some reason.
I would rather she thinks of this place as a tightly guarded secret that I’m only sharing with her. Because in many ways, it is.
“Okay, there have been a few, but no one who . . .” I leave it there, perhaps a little afraid of what my own next words were.
No one who matters. Nobody likes you.
Rather than nudging me into a confession, Saylor simply keeps her eyes on me as she strolls across the center of the room. She kicks her shoes off and nudges them to the side with her toes, then pulls the white coverup over her head and tosses it behind her to the foot of my bed.
“I’m guessing this isn’t the kind of swimsuit you compete in?” I reach forward and tug one of the strings tied in a bow at her hip. It unravels, and the small triangle of floral fabric covering her pussy slips just low enough that I can see the thin trail of hair above it.
“I’d probably swim right out of this thing,” she says, stopping at my knees and reaching behind her back to untie her top. It loosens, the cloth barely clinging to her breasts. I reach up and nook my finger between the cups and drag the material down her chest until it falls to the floor.
“Your tits are fucking perfection. I bet they’d sell a lot of tickets if you swam out of this at a race.
” I walk my fingers from her navel to the center of her chest, then tap my index finger a few times as if I’m deciding what direction to go.
My hand glides to her puckered nipple after a second, and I twist it as I gently tug.
Saylor’s head falls back as her lips part with a gasp.
“Are you wet for me?” I squeeze her tit again as she moans, “Mm hmm.”
“Let’s see,” I say, moving my hand between her legs. I slip under the fabric, my fingers gliding along her swollen, soaking wet pussy.
“You are so wet, Saylor. I fucking love your pussy.” I feel her body twitch against my hand, my dirty words making her open to me. She was wasted on Caleb. I guarantee he never worshipped her the way she deserved. I bet she never truly had an orgasm with him. Not like she does with me.
I slide my left palm up the back of her thigh, grabbing her ass and squeezing before moving to the only thing left covering her body. I tug the final string, and her bikini bottoms drop to the floor.
“Just one taste,” I say, glancing up at her. She moves her hands to my neck, then runs her fingers through my hair as she nods.
I’m not sure if she even realizes the way she’s pulling my head toward her, bringing my mouth to her pussy, but she is, and I fucking love it. My hands cup her ass as I lean forward and lap my tongue against her pink skin, flicking the very center, then sucking it in.
“Oh, fuck, Rowan!” She grips my hair harder and holds my mouth to her pussy, her legs shifting a few inches wider.
I hum as I taste her, my tongue lathering her until my saliva has completely coated her along with her own arousal.
My cock is pressing against the laced front of my board shorts, and it’s aching to feel all of her, every single inch, so when her hands relax in my hair, I let go of her body and unravel the front of my shorts and push them down just enough for my cock to stand free.
I don’t even have to ask before Saylor straddles me and guides my cock into her with her hand.
She sinks down slowly, her pussy stretching to accommodate my length.
She loops her hands behind my neck and rolls her hips as her gaze meets mine.
My eyes haze, and I feel the sinister tug on my grin at the corners of my mouth as Saylor begins to ride my cock as if I’m the prized mechanical bull at the stockyard’s restaurant.
Her nipples scrape against my T-shirt until I pull it over my head, so my bare chest sticks to hers.
I want to buck into her, but I’m having too much fun watching her please herself on me.
I like being used by her. She makes me patient.
The slow grind lasts for minutes, my hands memorizing the curve of her ass, the lines of her shoulder blades, the length of her hair as I tether it into my grip and pull her head back just enough that I can sink my teeth into her hard nipple.
I could fill her up right here, like this, but I haven’t stopped thinking about fucking her on the hood of my car since the first time I tasted her.
I want to be greedy with her, just this once.
“Hold on, baby,” I say, lifting her with me as I stand. Her legs wrap around my waist, my cock flexing inside of her as I march us out the door and into the garage where my car is parked. Only one of the bays is open, and I move my palm along the wall to shut the other, but Saylor stops me.
“Leave it open.”
I shift my head to look her in the eyes, and her sex-drunk grin thrills me.
“You’re a bad little thing, aren’t you?”
She nods and whimpers as her legs squeeze hungrily around my waist.
“Okay, we can put on a show,” I say. The sun set half an hour ago, and the sign by the road is turned off, so I doubt we’ll get any surprise customers. And anyone who dares to check if we’re open, well, they can fucking watch for all I care.
I move to the hood of my car and lay Saylor back, pulling out of her long enough to kick my shorts down my legs so I’m completely naked too.
I grip my cock in my hand as she parts her legs and scoots down the hood enough to give me easy access.
Her pussy glistens from our sex, and I want to paint it with my cum, then fuck her ass in this exact spot later tonight.
I need to be careful, though, and not mix the beast up too much with the man who suddenly wants this girl to stay here after.
To come here again tomorrow. To bring her things over and get comfortable.
To be mine.
“Can I be rough?” I move toward her and lift one of her legs, hooking it over my arm as I stare into her eyes.
She nods, and it’s not a timid yes. She’s sure of it. Of this. Of me.
I guide myself into her and push my cock in slowly, teasing her with a few inches for several minutes until her cries begin to grow needy and loud. I pull out completely before plunging back inside, pulling her leg to me and driving in until my tip hits her sensitive insides and she gasps.
“Oh my God, Rowan . . . yes!”
I do it again, this time pumping into her harder and faster. She cries out the same words, her hands gripping against the metal hood, unable to hold onto anything to steady herself.
“I’ve got you, Baby. Come for me,” I command, driving into her again. And again. My rock my hips fast as her body slides with my weight as I lean into her and flex her leg up as high as it will go. I want to touch her in new places, to uncover what pleases her most.
Her hands finally fly up and grip my shoulders, and her eyes open on mine, her stare pleading with me to push her over the edge.
When she finally goes, her lids flutter shut as her eyes roll back, and she bites her bottom lip as she hums through her orgasm and smiles.
I come seconds later, filling her up, then stepping back to watch my cum drip from her pussy.
“My two favorite things are this car and your pussy,” I say, running my thumb against her swollen center and coating her with me as she moans. I lean over her and bring my mouth to her ear.
“And later tonight, I’m going to take my third favorite thing,” I say, sliding my hand down her pussy and to her ass.
I sink a finger inside of her to test how tight she is.
I won’t be able to go deep, not at first. But the way she moans at this small tease tells me she’s willing to put in the work.
“You said you wanted me to ruin you, Baby. Are you sure?” I pull back just enough to meet her gaze. Her bottom lip tucked between her teeth, the devil’s smirk dusts her lips as she nods and reaches down to circle my wrist in her hands to invite me in deeper.
My father always said Saylor Kelly was a good student.