‘Don’t get too close to the little people? Is that what you’re saying?’ He was teasing, but there was a smidgen of ice in it.
‘Of course not.’
The makings of a tiff were soon forgotten when Jason, making sure their backs weren’t visible to anyone, ran his hand over the curve of Jenna’s bottom.
‘So did you do as you were told?’ he said softly into her ear. ‘Mm, I think you did. Good girl.’
She tried hard to keep her breathing even but his hand felt so sinful and so delicious, running over her thinly-covered cheeks, that she had to focus hard.
‘Let’s get out of here,’ she muttered. ‘I feel like everyone that passes has X-ray vision.’
Jason chuckled.
‘Perhaps they have.’
‘Not helpful.’ She wiggled his hand off her bottom and marched off towards the main entrance.
‘I want proof, you know,’ he called, hurrying to catch up with her. ‘When we get to the car.’
She had a delirious vision of raising her skirt there and then while the crowds ambled around them, baring herself to the sun-bleached expanse of the car park and beyond. God, what put these things into her mind? Or his, for that matter?
She didn’t feel quite safe until she was back in the car, and confident that there was nobody parked nearby who could see them.
Jason opened her door and peered in, looming over her.
‘Never mind that,’ he said. ‘Get in the back seat.’
‘What? Why?’
‘Because I told you to.’
She reached down to her handbag and took out the knickers, waving them defiantly in his face.
‘Put ’em down,’ he said, taking hold of her wrist. ‘And get in the back seat. Now.’
She wanted to argue with him, but his tone brought out that strange meek side of her she hadn’t known existed before she met him and she climbed into the back, looking carefully out of the tinted back window to make sure nobody was peeping – not that they could see much through the opaque glass.
‘All right,’ he said, once she was seated in the back. He got in beside her and put a hand on her knee. ‘Now, show me.’
‘Jason! We could be seen.’
‘No we won’t. Lift up your skirt and show me what’s underneath.’
He was calm and confident and she found herself reaching for her hem and shuffling it up her thighs. He slung an arm across the seat, leaning in to her to watch as closely as possible. When the cotton inched up to the top of her thighs, he stopped her with a hand on hers.
‘Let me finish,’ he whispered.
She obliged him by raising her bottom slightly off the seat to let him push the fabric all the rest of the way, then sat back, the leather cool and thrilling against her bare skin. Why did this feel so extravagantly dirty? It was surely no different than bare legs and yet it felt completely, decadently other. Her pussy was throbbing and she knew that she would feel the wetness of it if she clamped her legs together.
But that wasn’t going to happen.
‘Open your legs,’ whispered Jason.
She spread her knees wide and sat, looking down on what went on lower down as if it were all happening to someone else. It wasn’t her, Jenna Myatt Diamond, sitting in a car with no knickers on, letting a rough estate lad take a good, long look at the goods. She would never do such a thing . . . She would never let him run his hand up her thigh and push his fingertips into the slippery centre of her, rubbing and teasing and whispering dirty words into her ear all along. She would never sit there, clenching her hands and her sphincter, trying not to gasp or cry out while he circled her clit with such cocky self-assurance, knowing exactly what he was doing to her and how to make her beg for more.
And Jenna Myatt Diamond would never have an orgasm in a car.
‘No, never,’ she panted, as she came over his fingertips.