Chapter 12
TWELVE
Anson
She’s silent so long after my admission, the sound of the rain drowning out my ability to even read the pattern of her breathing, that I almost speak again to correct myself.
But thank fuck I don’t because just before I do, her hand wanders down to her thigh, pulling up the hem of her dress that’s still stained by cold rain—the consequences of her running out to play nurse to me while I worked on the engine.
I want to touch her so damn bad, but I don’t want to push this too far too fast and have it all explode in my face.
I’ve been hoping for a chance long enough that I can wait a few more days or weeks.
It might be all the sweeter for the torture of waiting and watching.
I’m sure it will be when I watch her dress climb higher and higher up her thighs.
There’s still a smattering of droplets and goose bumps that rise with the loss of warmth from the cotton dress. The fucking dress that feels like it should be a torture device for how well it follows every curve of her body.
She stops when she brings the hem high enough that she can slide her hand underneath, and I can just see the smallest glimpse of her panties visible from the sidelong view I have.
“Look how fucking pretty you are,” I whisper against her temple. Her free hand is curled around my forearm, using it like an anchor for purchase in this storm.
“Tell me what you want me to do.” She closes her eyes as soon as she offers herself up to me, and the soft sound of her voice curls down my spine and has me going hard already.
I’ll be lucky to survive this. At least the soaking from the rain will cover the sin if it comes to that.
“I want you to finish what I couldn’t at the wedding.” I swallow hard at the thought of her in that dark room again. “Slip your fingers under your panties and tell me how wet you are.”
She follows my instructions, dipping her fingers under the hem at first, and then slipping them under the waistband. Her lips part, and she lets out a soft gasp when she brushes past her clit.
“Oh fuck. I’m wet already,” she admits on an exhale. Another draw of her breath, and her fingers move in a slow circle under the fabric.
“But you could be wetter?” I ask.
“Yes. If you talk to me. I love listening to you talk.” She slides her panties midway down her thighs and settles against me again.
The admission makes my stomach dip like I’m hurtling down a rollercoaster.
The view has my mouth going dry for a taste of her as I watch her fingers swirling through her wetness.
“I can do that. We need you soaked so we can make a mess of his seats.”
“You have a vengeful streak.”
“You don’t like that?”
“Just didn’t expect it,” she admits.
“You know me pretty well. But there are a few things you don’t,” I confess.
“I’m learning that much.” She rolls her lips between her teeth, and her hips lift ever so slightly with the next pass of her fingers like she’s desperate for more friction. A soft whimper follows, and her fingers tighten on my forearm.
“That feel good? Helping take the edge off the day?”
“It’d feel better if I could make him watch me ruin his perfect fucking truck. Just too bad he isn’t here to see all his fears come true.” She grins.
“I like you vengeful, darlin’.” Frankly, I’d love for her to take her vengeance out on me. I’d do everything for her that man wouldn’t.
I’m hard as fuck now, my dick straining against the zipper of my jeans as she takes stuttered breaths that echo against the quiet cabin of the truck. She’s fucking beautiful like this, taking what she wants and letting me watch her. I’m mesmerized by it.
“You’re awfully quiet,” she whispers, suddenly self-conscious.
“Enjoying this too much. Listening to you. All I got right now is dirty-as-fuck thoughts.”
“Tell me one.”
“I want to know what you taste like,” I confess as I watch her start to fuck herself with her fingers. Each slide of them makes them wetter and wetter, and I’m practically salivating to lick them clean. “Been thinking about it since the wedding.”
There’s a muted moan in response, and then she flutters her lashes and leans back into my lap. She looks up at me from her new position and smiles, holding her wet fingers up for me. But when I lean forward to lick them, she holds them back.
“A taste for a taste. You take this, I get the same in return.”
“It’s yours.” I nod down at her, and she brings her middle finger back to my lips, grinning at the way she presses it to the center of my bottom lip.
I take one slow, long lick of her finger, grabbing her wrist when she goes to pull it back.
She tastes like heaven. Like I could have her again and again and never get tired of it.
She adds her index finger to the offering, and I take it into my mouth, too, sucking and licking.
She writhes against my lap, brushing over my thighs and my dick as she moves. It’s a sweet kind of torment.
I lick them clean, drawing my tongue down every line of her fingers and taking my time over the stretched bit of flesh between them, teasing it the same way I’d love to tease her clit. Her eyes light at the sensation, and her hips cant upward again.
“You like that?” I ask, unable to help myself. Knowing I can tease Bristol in this way is a fresh revelation. Her eyes pop up again, as if I’ve woken her from her thoughts.
“Mhmm. My turn.” There’s a devilish smile and then a roll of her hips before she’s on her knees on the bench of the truck, leaning over me as she reaches for my belt.
Oh fuck. I’m a goner if she touches me. I also want her to know I’m very capable of giving without receiving. Just watching her is more than enough for me.
“We should focus on you.”
“We are.” She glances at me before she continues her work of undoing the buckle and sliding the leather free from its notched position. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about touching you again either. You promised me a taste.”
I can’t argue with that.
“Fuck,” I curse as she undoes the button and zipper in rapid order, releasing the pressure that’s been caging my dick.
I’m fucking bulging out of the gap she’s created, practically throbbing against the cotton of my boxer briefs.
She wrests them down and frees me, licking her lips in anticipation of what she wants.
“God, you look exactly as good as you felt,” she murmurs as she wraps her hand around me, taking one leisurely stroke and teasing the slow roll of a drop of precum out of the head in the process.
My heart is pounding out of my chest as she leans over to lap it up, her tongue taking a long, deliberate draw off me like I’m the last droplet of whiskey in her glass, and she needs it.
But she doesn’t stop there. She drops lower, her tongue circling me before her lips wrap around my dick, and she takes one slow bob of her mouth over it.
A groan rips out of my chest, and my fingers bite into the frame of the truck’s door as I will myself not to move.
When she changes position to take me deeper, I stop her.
My hand on her shoulder, willing myself to have the strength to put the focus back on her.
“Bristol.” I manage to groan her name when she lets me go, the slick sounds of her lips sliding off my dick so loud I can barely hear my thoughts anymore.
“Yes?” She looks at me with a narrowed focus, her eyes wide and eager.
“A taste for a taste. You got yours. Now finish yourself off.” I remind her. I refused to get off before her. Her eyes study mine, and I almost think she’ll argue with me.
“What do I get if I do?” she asks playfully, as if I’d deny her anything. I raise a brow in skepticism.
“What do you want?”
“You begging me for mercy.”
“That’s not fair since I can’t return the favor.”
“Then finish with me. Don’t make me do this alone.” She takes my uninjured hand and drags it across my lap until it’s flush with my dick.
Fucking hell. I can’t deny her. I nod my agreement, wrapping my hand around my dick and stroking to satisfy the request. I groan too loudly for my own good and a devilish grin appears on her face.
It’s my non-dominant hand, but I’m so close to coming already from watching her, it won’t take much more.
“Finish,” I demand.
She shifts her position, sitting next to me on the bench, her legs spread and her dress bunched up around her thighs so I can watch her. Her thigh brushes mine as she starts to work herself back up again and sends a jolt of awareness through me.
I slow my own pace, keeping watch and taking notes as she works her clit over. I want to know exactly what this woman likes and how she likes it. I’m going to use it for our benefit for the foreseeable future.
Her fingers brush in tighter circles before she slips two inside, and I watch her coat them as she fucks herself.
Her wetness drips down slowly onto the bench, leaving a stain between her thighs and the sight of it makes me fucking grin.
I hate Chris, but I might need to write him a thank you note for being foolish enough to let her go and giving me the opportunity for this moment.
She whimpers loudly before her stuttered breaths betray her orgasm. The sounds of her coming hard have me following her. I plunge into the depths of it like I’ve jumped off a cliff.
I groan and close my eyes as I use the bandana she wrapped around my hand to soak up the mess I make. When I open them she’s staring at me like I’m the best thing she’s ever seen. So blatant in her regard that I swear I feel my skin catch fire under her watch.
“I can’t wait to make you come like that for me,” she blurts out and the honesty catches me off guard. “That was so hot.”
“Trust me. That was all because of you. You’re fucking gorgeous when you come.
” I take her hand and kiss her palm, still glistening in the low light as the sun starts to peek out from behind the clouds.
I’d forgotten all about the storm raging outside the truck.
She has that effect on me. “I’m going to need at least a hundred more of them. ”