Chapter 13
SABLE
I didn't argue when Forrest called for the car to pick us up. If the option was to take the subway or walk home with Woody lurking around, a car would be safer.
To be honest, I wasn't sure how often Forrest would take my side if Woody kept coming at me. Forrest and Woody were friends. I had a feeling they shared some sort of common bond, something that tied them together. They wouldn't let someone like me get in between, no matter what happened.
How did I feel about that? Could I have Forrest in my life, knowing Woody would be a part of it too?
What about vice versa? I couldn't imagine Woody being too impressed having me hanging around for the rest of, well, forever. Forever was a long time to spend time with someone you hated.
Trust me, I've been there. Some of the days in the past? They felt like forever.
Only now I was starting to realize time was fleeting and that was behind me.
"Have I converted you to following hockey?" Forrest asked lightly as he slid into the seat beside me.
"I think you might have," I said. "I'll have to get myself a hockey jersey and one of those giant foam hands."
He chuckled. "You'd look adorable with a giant foam hand. The hands you have are beautiful too, though." He took them in his and kissed the back of my knuckles.
It was a small thing, but it ignited my blood, which, to be fair, had been running hot for most of the night. The pulse between my legs throbbed, politely asking for more.
She was also shy from the past, or she would have begged.
"Do you think I'd look good in Garrett Ryan's number?" I asked teasingly.
Forrest tipped his head back and laughed. "I'd love to see the expression on Leif's face when he saw you in that, but I think you'd look better in Rooks’ colors. Black, red and white would suit you."
"Although," he said slowly, drawing me over toward him, "you'd look better out of any jersey."
He brushed his lips over mine.
I didn't see him do it, but suddenly the glass rose between us and the driver, blocking us from view.
Forrest deepened the kiss, pressing his tongue against my lips, encouraging but not insistent, asking not telling.
For now.
I opened my mouth to let him slide his tongue inside. He tasted like cola and nachos. I started to pull away, but stopped myself. Instead, I tentatively sucked on the tip of his tongue.
It was my turn to watch for his reaction. Was that something he liked? Was it even something people did outside romance novels?
Apparently it was, because he pushed his tongue in deeper, giving me more to suck.
He rested one hand lightly on my hip, tracing circles across the fabric, gentle at first, then firmer between kisses.
He slid his fingers up the front of my sweatshirt, ghosted them lightly over the skin of my stomach.
His touch was warm, gentle but at the same time, made my blood burn hotter still.
Gradually, he moved his hand up, ran his knuckles across the underside of my breast, then up to my nipple. He rubbed the heel of his hand over the sensitive peak. It hardened under his touch.
I found myself quivering. My breath shaky.
"You like that?" he said.
"I do," I agreed.
I couldn't remember the last time anyone touched me with such care, making sure what he was doing was what I wanted, what I needed. It wasn't a stretch to suggest he knew what I needed better than I did, but he was being very sure before moving on to my other nipple.
"Sable," he whispered. "I want to taste you."
I jerked my head back, stared at him. "Here?" I whispered. I doubted the driver could hear us through the glass, but just in case.
"Here if you'll let me," Forrest said. He gripped my hips and swiveled me around until I lay across the back seat of the car, my hair spread out around me.
"You look beautiful like that."
He moved his hands up the insides of my thighs, parting them until he reached the top.
Lightly, he pressed the pads of both of his thumbs against the crotch of my jeans.
He eased them up and down against the denim, slow and careful.
One thumb moving one way, the other moving the other, spiking the heat in my body.
"Oh God," I whispered.
"You want more?" His darkened eyes regarded me, his gaze so hot I melted a little more, like a piece of chocolate in the microwave. No, more even than that. Maybe chocolate in a pot on the stove, the burner on just underneath, a spoon making slow circles through it to keep it consistent.
I glanced towards the glass.
"He's paid to be discreet," Forrest said.
Right.
I swallowed down a knot of anxiety. "Then I want more."
He unbuttoned the front of my jeans and slid them down my hips.
Yes, I had taken Savannah's advice from my first date with Forrest to wear sexy underwear. In this case, black lace. Pretty, minimal and sheer.
"Beautiful." He leaned down to press a kiss to my pussy, dampening the fabric with his tongue, as if it wasn't wet enough from my arousal.
With one hand, he dragged them down my hips, down to my ankles. With the other, he parted my knees, taking a good look at my slick pussy.
"Perfection." He kissed his way up my thigh and back down the other leg.
Once again, he rubbed the pads of his thumb against my pussy, this time with nothing between my skin and his.
I quivered.
"You want more?" he asked.
"Yes," I whispered.
He pressed one thumb inside me, spreading my arousal around the inside and then the outside of my pussy, coating my clit until it was slick.
My legs shook, I was so turned on. Only the cooler air in the car kept me from combusting.
He slid his thumb in and out of me several times, always slow and deliberate, his eyes on mine.
"Such a good girl," he said softly.
If he said that a couple more times, I was going to come without him even touching me. He must have sensed that because he leaned down and pressed his tongue against my clit. He stayed like that for a few long moments, not moving, not licking, just touching skin to skin.
"Please," I whispered.
He chuckled and started slowly sliding his tongue up and down my clit, around one way, then the other. Up and down again. He pulled his thumb out of me and replaced it with a couple of fingers, stroking my insides while his tongue worked its magic on my clit.
I whimpered. "Forrest."
"Are you going to come for me?" he said. The movement of his mouth made vibrations against my sensitive skin.
"Yeah," I said, breathlessly. "Yeah, I am."
"Then come." His mouth vibrated again.
I gripped the side of the car seat, rocking my hips against his mouth, my clit seeking more of him, hungry like I hadn't eaten in years. Needy.
I arched my back and came in a burst of pleasure.
Bliss started in my toes, making them tingle, before slowly working its way up my body, through my core and all the way up to the top of my head.
I cried out louder than I intended, but I couldn't stop myself. Everything felt too good, too perfect, like a blast of heat that washed away everything in its path, leaving me shattered.
The orgasm faded slowly, my heart racing, my breath coming in pants and moans.
"That was…" I had no words for what that was.
"Just the start." He kissed the insides of my thighs, one and then the other, then eased my panties and jeans back into place.
Grabbing my hand, he pulled me back up until I was sitting beside him and pressed his mouth to mine, letting me taste myself on his lips.
"Do you understand?" he asked.
"Understand what?" I whispered.
"I want to make you feel good," he said.
"You certainly did that," I laughed slightly. "It felt more than good. It felt incredible."
"That was just the first of many," he said. "Whenever you think of pleasure, I want you to think of me. I want to give all of it to you. And receive it, but we have time for that."
Oh. My gaze dropped to his groin. His cock was going to burst the seams if he got any harder. Should I reach for it? Should I touch him there? He grabbed my hands before I could.
"Not tonight," he said firmly. "Not like this. When I fuck you, I want it to be somewhere special. Not in the back of a car."
"It's a very nice car," I said.
That made him smile. "It's an extremely nice car, but you deserve better than that. When I fuck you, it'll be in a place and time you won't regret."
I wasn't sure if I'd regret fucking him, but he was right. This wasn't very romantic or particularly comfortable for anything more than what we'd already done.
"I think I can be patient," I said.
"Of course you can." He nodded.
"Can you?" I asked, only half teasing.
"That's a very good question," he said.
He was humoring me. A man like Forrest Cross would be as patient as he needed to be. If it was a week or a year, he'd wait.
I realized I hadn't even questioned his assumption that we would fuck. It seemed… I don't know, logical. Inevitable. I liked him. He liked me. We were undeniably attracted to each other.
It might just be that simple.
Although…
"Can I ask you something?"
"Of course, anything," he said.
I suspected a bunch of things were off the table, but for now I'd keep it to something he would be able to answer.
"You're okay with me going out with Leif?"
"Absolutely," he said with a nod.
"And if it goes further?" I asked tentatively.
"If you're asking if I'm okay if you fuck him, the answer is yes," Forrest said. "As long as you're ready for it, then there's no reason why you should hold back."
"Wouldn't you be jealous?" I asked. Weren't most men?
"I'll be as envious as fuck when he has his cock in your pussy," Forrest said. "But I'm okay with it. However, I want to hear all the details."
"All the details?" I asked.
Was I hearing him right?
He leaned over and softly said, "Every. Single. One. If you want to video it so I can watch, or better yet, stream it live to me."
I swallowed hard. I wasn't sure if I could do that, but the way he said it, he made me want to try.
"You wouldn't want to be there in person?" I asked.
Okay, where did that come from? Possibly from me reading a ton of romance books where the woman had multiple boyfriends. Was that something I wanted? In theory, yes, but what would it be like in practice?
Forrest surprised me by saying, "Of course I would, but one step at a time. There's no need to rush into anything, not unless you want to, and I know you don't."
"No, I don't," I agreed. "One step at a time sounds good to me."
"Then that's what we'll do." He made it sound so easy, like it was all decided and that was that.
As for me? It was going to take some time to get my head around the idea, much less actually acting on it.
"Sable," he said, breaking me out of my thoughts.
"Yes?" I asked.
"We're at your apartment." He nodded toward the car window.
I looked over. How long had we been parked there? Long enough, apparently.
"I'll walk you inside," Forrest said.
I wanted to say I could walk myself, but the Woody factor made me nod in agreement, and wait for him before I got out of the car.