“I don’t know,” I answer, my tone purposefully light now, forcedly so. “Seems like you find plenty of opportunities to tease me publicly. In places where people might easily notice what we’re doing.”
“Is that so?” His fingertips have reached the hem of my jeans now. With a deft, practiced motion, he undoes the top button of my jeans. Then he starts to inch the zipper down, his thumb grazing against my smooth stomach underneath, making me tingly from my toes all the way up to my scalp and the nape of my neck. “Well, I can’t imagine why. Not like you’re impossible for a guy to keep his hands off, or anything.”
I laugh, a sound that turns breathy as his fingertips delve further beneath my jeans, the tips brushing along the lace of my panties ever so lightly. “Two can play at this game though, you realize,” I respond, as I reach across the gear shift to mirror what he’s doing. I reach for his jeans, too, and tug at the buttons.
His grin just widens. “And you blame me for being the one who almost gets us caught. You’re far more obvious.”
“How so?” I protest. Then I have to bite my lower lip, because he pushes his hand deeper, his fingers sliding under my panties to stroke over my mound, down, down, until they brush against my clit. It’s a light, barely there touch, and yet it electrifies my whole body, making me take a sharp breath in through my nose and tense in my seat.
“Well, you’re just a passenger. I’m driving. If you distract me too much, it’s going to get pretty obvious.”
“Sounds like a challenge,” I respond. But then I lose track of my thoughts, because he parts my pussy lips with his fingertips, one finger stroking along my slit slowly, and I can already feel that I’m soaking wet, dripping all over his finger.
He chuckles. “You say that, but you feel far too excited to stay on track…”
I set my jaw. He has a habit of doing this. Distracting me so badly I can barely focus at all. But it’s my turn to make him lose his mind. In response, I scoot forward, and lean my whole body over the gear shift.
Whatever Charlie expected, it’s not this. He glances down at me, where I’m practically lying in his lap, peeling his jeans down hurriedly, like I can’t wait to get access to what’s underneath. Which is true. I can already feel the hard bulge of his cock through the denim, and it makes me hungry for him.
I want to watch him lose his breath the way he makes me when I come. I want to lick and suck him until I can feel him lose total control, all because of my hot mouth. I pause to tilt my head and grin up at him, and then I finish peeling his boxers back next.
His cock springs free, thick and hard and long, so fucking ready for me that there’s already a glistening spot of precum gathered at the tip. “Fuck, Lila,” Charlie murmurs, deep in the back of his throat, his eyes hooded with distraction. He has both hands on the wheel now in a death grip, like he needs all of his concentration to maintain current velocity with what I’m doing down here.
I grin at him. “If you say so,” I reply, and then I lean down and slowly lick that drop of precum from the quivering tip of his cock.
The breath he sucks in through his tightly gritted teeth makes fire unfurl in my stomach, racing through my veins. I want him to do that again. Over and over. I want to hear him shout my name as he comes.
I shift in my seat and wrap both hands around the base of his cock, leaning down to trail my tongue up the length of his shaft, along the underside. He feels rock hard, solid as steel, and yet the soft, velvety skin on top makes my tongue glide easily along his length, tracing the seam beneath, then the veins that bulge from either side of his cock. God, it’s a fucking beautiful cock.
“That fucking mouth of yours,” Charlie murmurs, practically taking the words right off my tongue, smirking down at me. “You are so fucking sexy right now, Lila, you know that?”
“Oh am I?” I lower my eyelids, tilt my face so I can brush his cock along my cheek as I gaze up at him, playing coy. “Tell me what you want me to do, then.”
Heat flares behind his eyes. I swear I feel the car shift a little for a second, like those words alone almost caused him to lose control. I should feel worried, I guess, about what happens if he gets too distracted as he’s driving. But I’m feeling too amped up on adrenaline, too excited by being down here in the first place, to care. It’s hot, it’s exciting. I’ve never given a guy road head before.