Chapter 6
If I had to choose a car to drool over, this would be the one. Or one of them, at least.
I spent a lot of time in my grandfather’s garage as a kid. He loved to work on cars, both as a personal hobby and in his line of work as a mechanic. A Jaguar was always his dream car. Somewhere along the way, it became mine as well. He taught me a lot about cars and motorcycles; it became our thing. I spent more time with him than I ever did with my own father. And it might sound terrible, but I’m glad he’s not around anymore to see what’s become of his family.
There’s an amused look on Ben’s face when the valet gets out and hands him the keys—I also don’t miss him slipping the man a folded hundred dollar bill as a tip.
“You hand those keys over right now.” I march up to him, practically vibrating with excitement.
“I guess you like my car, then?”
“Yes. Don’t be a dick. Gimme the keys, you said I could drive.”
He leans in close, sliding his hand beneath the jacket and around my back. I freeze as his fingers skim along my leg, knuckles running up the back of my thigh and pulling the hem of my dress up an inch.
“Ask me nicely.” Another inch.
My stomach does the flippy thing. The fucking flippy thing.
His knuckles slide my dress higher again, and now he’s grazing the skin just below the curve of my ass. My soul nearly jumps out of my body at the way it zips like lightning up my spine. Once again, I’m reminded that I’m not wearing panties. Very obviously not wearing panties as I squirm and press my legs together.
“Please,” I whisper, not sure what I’m asking for anymore.
“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” His breath blows over the shell of my ear, my back arching in response. Ben pulls back to look at me, eyes falling to my parted lips as his fingers trail back down my thigh and my dress falls back into place.
The key fob drops into my palm, and I blink down at it. Right. Looking back up, I lean up on my toes and press a kiss to the skin just below his ear.
“Very, very hard, in fact.” I smile coyly, enjoying the way his jaw visibly grits.
Turning on my heel, I hold the front of the jacket with my free hand and walk around the front of the car. I can’t resist the urge to run my finger along the sleek metal, tapping the hood ornament. I want to die when I slide into the driver’s seat—its slate gray exterior is complemented with a black leather interior. Everything is pure luxury.
Ben drops into the passenger seat, watching as I fiddle to scoot the seat closer to the steering wheel.
“I’m kind of sad my place isn’t that far. I want to drive this out of the city,” I say, pushing the button to start the car. It purrs to life, pulling a poorly concealed squeal out of my throat. I cough, swallowing down my excitement.
“We’ll take a weekend trip, take it out then. Southampton is still nice even in the autumn.”
I buckle the seat belt and shimmy the jacket around my shoulders, not wanting to actually take it off, as I direct the air vents away from me. Glancing over at him, I place my hands on the steering wheel and try to pretend that I’m totally one hundred percent okay right now.
“Please tell me that you don’t own a house in the Hamptons.”
“Okay, I don’t own a house in the Hamptons.”
Part of me is disappointed in that easy admission.
“Well, fine. Good. Great. I look forward to flooring this on the 495,” I say as we pull into the street. It feels so sinful to press the gas harder than I really need to.
Ben only shakes his head at me, raking a hand down his face to scratch through the scruff of his beard. “I’m gonna regret this, aren’t I?”
“Probably.”
“You do have a driver’s license, right?”
I laugh, pressing the gas harder to get through a yellow light. “You did a background check, remember?”
“Yeah, I remember. But do you actually know how to drive? There’s a difference.”
“Should’ve asked me that before letting me get in the driver’s seat.”
“Emmeline.”
“Calm down. I don’t drive because I don’t have a car and traffic is atrocious most of the time, anyway. I know how—I’m an excellent driver, thank you very much.”
He looks skeptical when I glance over, eventually settling back into the seat. Though his shoulders are a little stiff.
“Don’t look so scared. We’re literally like eight blocks from my apartment, you’ll have your precious car back soon.”
“I’m not that worried. I have others”—of course he does—“but this is my favorite.”
“I’ll take care of your car like she’s my own baby, don’t worry,” I say, giving the dash a little pat. “What other cars do you have?”
Because I’m nothing if not curious.
“A Range Rover and a Camaro.”
“You’re such a hipster.”
“Why don’t you just focus on driving?” he snarks.
“Yes, sir. Driving Miss Daisy is here to take us safely to my place.”
“You do know that she was actually not good at driving, right? She had to have a chauffeur.”
“Oh, huh. Well, that movie came out before I was born, you know.”
Ben heaves a sigh. I would laugh if I didn’t feel the tiniest bit bad, but getting under his skin is so fun. I didn’t expect to have such a good time just talking with him—I’m eager to spend more time with him, to explore the other avenues of our relationship. The back and forth is thrilling in a way I didn’t expect and I want more.
“You’re gonna remind me every chance you get about how old I am, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, I’m just going to warn you now that you shouldn’t expect anything less. Though you’re not that old. Considering your salacious hobbies, I bet you still keep up well enough.”
I chance a glance at him, his eyes unreadable in the darkness of the car.
“Are you trying to test that theory?” he asks, something in his tone echoing a challenge. Little does he know I’m very competitive.
Though my foot presses the brake harder than necessary when his hand rests on my knee. His palm is warm as it slides over my skin, curving to the inside of my leg and sliding higher. My back straightens up, fingers gripping the steering wheel harder as I make a right turn.
“What if I am?”
Ben hums and the sound flows through the car, like the low rumble of the engine through my fingers. It shoots straight to my belly as his hand slides higher under my dress. By reflex, I want to press my thighs together but his hand is there, pulling gently on my thigh. My knees spread the smallest amount.
“I’d say you better drive faster.”
Oh fuck.
“Just—” I suck in a breath as his pinky grazes the crease of my thigh and pelvis. “Wait a minute.”
It’s only another couple blocks.
“And why should I do that?” he asks. His wrist turns in what feels like slow motion, lying flat against my pubic bone with his fingers resting over my pussy. Just resting there. A show of dominance and some self-control, if I’ve ever felt it. His fingers don’t even twitch.
But me? I’m aching to shift into his hand, all the while unsure if I should squirm away because I’m surely going to make a mess of the leather seat at this rate.
My cheeks feel warm and I clear my throat, knuckles white against the steering wheel. “We’re almost there.”
“Am I distracting you? Worried you’re gonna slip up?” Ben asks, his middle finger sliding through the slick arousal drenching my cunt and tapping against my clit.
I nearly jerk the wheel.
“Yes,” I grit out before holding my breath.
His touch is electric. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Goosebumps erupt along my arms and legs yet my skin warms all over. The pad of his finger circles my clit in a slow sweep that makes me feel like I’m dying a slow, tortuous death.
Fuck it. There’s a spot not too terribly far from my apartment complex right on the corner of the block; I don’t even have to parallel park—which would be an utter disaster right now anyway. I pull in a little sharply and throw the car in park, scrambling to unbuckle my seat belt.
“And what do you think you’re doing?” Ben asks, hand pressing in against my cunt. I almost falter and lean into his touch.
Almost.
But I yank on his wrist as I twist in the seat, climbing across the center console toward him like a goblin looking for treasure. I toss his jacket from my shoulders into the backseat and slide into his lap to straddle him, only banging my knee on the cup holder once.
My hands settle around his shoulders, and my knees scoot in toward his hips. I rest my weight on his lap, delighted to find his cock hard underneath me. I grind down on him, only the layers of his pants and underwear separating us, and it hits so fucking good. I grin at him, leaning in to skate my lips along his ear as I roll my hips.
“Taking what I want.”
I roll my hips again and his hands come up to grab them, fingers digging in at my rucked up dress and pulling me harder against him. The pressure of his fingers is maddening, I want to feel him imprinted everywhere on my skin. Pleasure skitters up my spine, and my back arches me into his chest. My clit throbs, pulsing in time with the erratic beat of my heart as I gasp out a moan.
“Use me then,” Ben says low, rough, almost pained. He rocks me forward against the hard line of his cock in his pants, his own hips meeting me with each thrust.
I feel drunk on his touch, on the feel of him beneath me. His hands fist my dress, my skin, as he pulls me in. My core clenches tight, and I imagine wearing the bruise of his touch like a trophy in the morning. His lips graze my neck and throat, just barely touching, beard scratching along my skin as I pant and wither in his lap.
It’s not enough and yet too much at the same time. He’s barely touched me, and I feel like I’m going to lose my mind. I’m so close already. A shudder racks my spine, toes curling as he pulls my earlobe between his teeth and his breath blows over my neck. I melt into him as fire blazes through my veins, gripping his shoulders like he’s the only thing tethering me to this world.
“You gonna come for me already, Emme?”
I nod, not trusting my voice not to crack. Because I’m right there, unbelievably. I don’t want to admit that he’s got me that far gone already, but each second draws me closer to a desperation that feels so paper thin. Like he could whisper the words and I’d come on command.
A whimper pulls from my throat as he slides his hands to my ass to grab a handful and rock me against him. I’m lost to the sensation, my mind quieting to this specific moment as pleasure builds in a whirlwind that has me swept up like a hurricane. My eyes close as Ben’s teeth nip and scrape over the skin on my neck, making my mouth drop open on a pant.
“You’re soaking the front of my pants. Are you thinking about my cock filling that little pussy?” He thrusts up, his cock bumping my clit just right that I nearly jolt out of his lap.
“Yes, yes, fucking yes, I am.”
Gripping his shoulders, I grind down, swivel my hips, and roll my head side to side. It would be so easy to unzip his pants and just sit on his dick right now. But as much as I want that, the fact that we’re parked on a very public city street, despite the very illegal tint on his car windows, makes this not the best idea. But, like, it’s still an idea. One I’ll think about later when I’m alone.
Ben slides a hand back over my hip until his fingers are skimming lower, curving over the crease of my thigh. Then his thumb glides up the side of my cunt until he reaches my clit. I might as well be in another plane of existence as his thumb slides over me in a gentle circle. My hips roll to a hard stop before rocking forward in a jerk.
“Fuck—Ben,” I moan, digging my fingernails into his shoulders as my spine bows backward and my eyes roll back.
He runs his fingers down to gather some of my arousal, and then his thumb circles my clit incessantly. His hand is still on my hip, grinding me down against him as I hang on by a thread.
“That’s it, be a good little girl and fucking come,” he purrs.
As if I was waiting for his permission, the thread snaps like his words were the sharp edge of a knife. My eyes close, and my hips do a slow roll. I suck in a breath and hold it as pleasure crests over me in a soothing wave, dragging me under again and again as he works me through it.
When I finally take a big gulp of air, my body relaxes and I go a little boneless in his lap. Ben leans back in the seat and takes hold of my throat in his hand, squeezing lightly. My pussy throbs traitorously as he pushes his wet thumb in between my lips and onto my tongue.
His eyes are shadowed in the dark of the car, but his gaze is still so intense it burns everywhere it touches. “Tell me how you taste, baby. Because when I finally get my mouth on you, I’m gonna feast on your pussy until your legs shake so hard, you won’t be walking anywhere until I fucking say so.”
Oh God. Yes. Please. A million times yes.
My fingers clench Ben’s shoulders, and I bear down against his cock as I roll my hips, cheeks hollowing around his thumb as I suck. I swipe my tongue over the pad of his thumb before he presses down on my tongue, making me hum.
He watches me, licking his own lip as his thumb drags down over mine, saliva stringing over my chin with his touch.
I lean in, breath blowing over his lips as my hands move from his shoulders. “Salty. Tangy. Just a little sweet. You’re going to lose your fucking mind.” I tug his hand off my hip and pull down my dress as my fingers fumble to find the door handle. “Have fun with my panties tonight, Daddy.”
I push the car door open and fling myself out the door. It’s no easy feat, considering my legs are shaking after that. I’m surprised Ben let me go, honestly. I know he could have stopped me at any point. He’s much larger than me; it would have been easy. But there isn’t a peep from him, except a breath of a chuckle as I slam the car door shut. I pull my dress down my hips before speed walking toward my apartment building.
I dig in my purse with one hand for my keys as I reach my door, huffing and puffing like Michael Myers is fucking chasing me.
I put the key in the lock and twist, looking up to watch as Ben taps the top of his car with a shake of his head before swinging down into the driver’s seat. I close the door behind me and take the stairs two at a time. I reach our apartment door on the second floor, switching to the other key on my keyring, and unlock the door. Just as I throw it open, my phone vibrates in my purse.
What are the chances Cora isn’t home? She was texting me all through dinner, but I’m not sure I can relive any part of that right now. I need a shower and…and some chocolate or something, I don’t know. My back hits the door when I close it as softly as I can, in case she’s listening out for it.
I pull my phone out from my purse, and a text from Ben lights up my screen.
| Didn’t know my good girl wanted to be bad. Be ready to take it like a bad girl then, Emmeline.
Oh fuck.
I must really be a glutton for punishment, because I leave him on read.