by Shey Stahl
Scooting closer, I made the hesitant movements to straddle him.
It wasn’t as easy, or as sexy as I thought it would look. With as careful as I tried to be, you would have thought I was attempting to mount a bull. In a way, I was.
Grunting as I settled down on him, his hands rose to cup my cheeks, blue eyes finding mine as he smiled. “See, that’s much better.”
His scent overwhelmed me, fresh soap, a little sweat and heady cologne, all mixtures that made me want to inhale deeply and ingrain that scent in my mind forever.
Though the idea of having sex in public was thrilling, I hadn’t done that yet. And I held a little reserve for it too. I was once caught making out with Caleb in our junior year of high school by the principal. My shirt was off with my nipples on display when he’d tapped on the window.
Other than that, no real experience with car sex. “Do you think anyone can see us in here?”
His lips were on my neck, fluttering feather light touches. “Who cares?”
His hands wrapped around my ass, squeezing. “Now, how about you give me a ride.”
“I plan to.”
“I’ve been thinking about you all damn day.” His rough voice unnerved me, made me want to melt into his touch and moan out his name, thank him for coming into my life even if was just sexual at this point.
Arching my back, I let my hair fall over the steering wheel and ground my hips into his.
Josh moaned low and deep, his mouth finding my neck as he hunched forward, his teeth dragged against my heating skin. “You’re so beautiful.”
My nipples hardened with anticipation; the memory of everything he made me feel last night fresh. There was the thrill too, the idea that he couldn’t wait to get me to his bed and he had to have me, at that moment, no matter who was watching.
As I moved on top of him, his hands went to my hips, and he peeled my shirt off while I flipped up my dress and shimmed my panties down my thighs the best I could in the passenger seat.
Motioning to the glove box, he gave a nod as he tossed his T-shirt aside and then went to undo his own jeans. “There should be a condom in there.”
“Always prepared, aren’t you?”
He shrugged and lifted his hips to pull his jeans down around his ankles.
When I was on his lap again, the steering wheel pressed tight against my back, his hand reached between us, the other firmly on my ass, holding me up just enough to slide inside me.
Just as his mouth dragged down my jaw, his body trembled. Callused hardworking hands moved over my thighs, spreading them a little wider as he filled me.
“Jesus...” He shuddered, his body trembling as I slid down him all the way, taking all of him inside me. His hand raised then from my thighs to press between my breasts pushing me back against the steering wheel so I was laid out before him. “I should open this truck door right now so the world can see what a beautiful woman you are when you’re fucking.” His feet moved, and his buckle clanked together as his legs fought to find something hard to brace himself against and gain the leverage he needed to push up.
When he did, he adjusted the way I was sitting on his lap and then slammed into me, hard and determined. Our eyes met and the hardness deep within his. The man liked to fuck hard. Last night, I sensed it. Tonight, I was experiencing it.
His head fell back against the seat. Raising his hips to my every move made me realize just how badly he’d wanted this today.
I threw my head back, closed my eyes, and rode him. His hands stayed on my hips, fingers digging into my flesh with each thrust.
After a moment, his left hand moved to my neck, wrapping around it, his thumb on one side, his fingers on the other with just the slightest pressure. It was enough that I felt the blood flow leave, but not enough that I couldn’t breathe. Strangely erotic, with me moaning, begging him to give me everything he had to give.
“Fuck me harder,” I begged, my hands rising to his shoulders, gripping his tight muscles just as hard.
With a grunt, his hips raised and his right hand plowed me down hard on his lap, filling me completely. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”
Gasping, Josh moved both hands behind my back and then curled them over the tops of my shoulders, the leverage he needed.
When I pushed up on my knees, he slammed me down, working together. “I do know. I want you to fuck me and something tells me you’re capable of that.”
Growling, a sound that resonated deep within his chest and rocking through his movements, his grip and the arch in his body as he let go, a storm raged through him.
His hands kneaded the swell of my ass firmly, lifting it to meet his hips every time he slammed me down on his cock.
“Christ, you’re driving me fuckin’ crazy,” he cried into my hair, pushing it to the side, his hands tangling in it before his mouth and teeth found the sensitive flesh which was alight with flames. I felt each thrust deep inside but it wasn’t enough. I needed it more.
I exhaled noisily, moaning when his grasp tightened, forcing me down on his lap, never breaking the contact between our lips.
Without much warning, a familiar warmth rushed to the surface, pulling at my stomach, the backs of my legs, and the tops of my feet, all at once.
With harsh breaths and frantic movements, Josh moved around under me, his body struggling to stay still as his head was tossed back against the seat and he squirmed around. My stare went to his chest muscles, rippling and contracting as he held onto me, dragging me up and down on his cock as my pussy milked his orgasm along. It was obvious by the way his hips jerked and how he crushed me to his chest, his teeth biting my shoulder that he joined me.
“Holy fuck,” he said when I drew back, my ass against the steering wheel again. He scrubbed his palms over his eyes. “That was sexy.” His hands fell to his sides as a beautiful flirty smile covered his face. And then he realized I was giving his steering wheel a nice smear of pussy juice. “Fuck, I really wanna lick that clean.”
What was I getting myself into?
I wasn’t sure what to think. All I knew was Josh was intoxicating.
“Hey, look at that guy.”
“Which one?” I could barely draw my eyes away from Josh, let alone look at another guy.
Here they were, well into the kitchen and patio remodel and I was barely getting anything done.
It wasn’t easy, what with the man I was sleeping with every night, working with his bulging muscles and smiles handed my way.
I loved the newness of what Josh and I had and that fluttering scorching feeling I had any time he touched me.
“The one with all the tattoos and dark hair.”
Shifting my eyes around the room of three construction workers, I attempted to pinpoint the one she was referring to. They all had dark hair and at least one tattoo, usually the arm band thing that seemed so popular.
I never did understand the barbwire tat. At least Josh didn’t have that. I’d inspected every inch of his body these last few days and the only tattoo he had was down his right arm.
“I’d like to lick up his cream filling.”
Side-eyeing Stevie, I shook my head, unable to reply to her comment.
Just then, as if he knew we were talking about him, the man approached the counter.
“You do birthday parties?” the guy asked with a wrinkled-up piece of paper in hand.
He seemed young in appearance with a youthful face free of wrinkles. His dark hair was shaved close on the sides, a tad longer on the top. Wearing a gray T-shirt with bright yellow construction stripes down the front and back. I noticed his tattooed forearms right then.
He had tasteful ink on them, mostly dark colors and what looked to be ones with meanings behind them—thought-out designs that more than likely were important to him.
Next I noticed the eyes. Dark brown they appeared black at first glance; their depths endless as the darkest of nights. I had a thing for ebony-colored eyes.
“We do bi
rthday parties,” I told him, handing him my brochure next to the register. “I need a week’s notice so I can arrange with the bakers.”
“You don’t bake them yourself?”
“No. I used to but now that we have so many orders and deliveries, I work during the day and deliver orders.”
“So you’d be the one delivering them?” he asked, low and husky with a sweet edge to his voice. I was almost taken back by his tone. How was he capable of that?
“Yes.”
“I need them by Saturday for my niece’s birthday.”
“We can do that.” Without looking at him, I examined the paper he handed me.
“So four dozen assorted?”
“Yeah, but the birthday girl loves strawberry so maybe like an entire dozen for her,” he teased with a sparkling smile. “She is turning six.”
Jesus, look at that smile!
Stevie glared at me when the kid walked away. I shouldn’t even say kid. He was probably my age but compared to Josh, he seemed like a kid.
I did notice Josh had watched our entire interaction from his place in the kitchen where he and another guy were ripping out the old cabinets I had in there. Our eyes caught, momentarily, and then he was back to work, ordering another one of his employees to run out to the truck.
“What?” I looked over at Stevie who was arranging the triple chocolate cupcakes in the display case and restocking the cake pops.
“Why are all the hot ones into you?” Her tone was annoyed but she smiled despite that.
“What are you talking about?”
“Him.” She gestured to the tattooed kid walking away. He bent down, picked up a hammer on the ground and made his way around the corner into the kitchen. “Brevin Chase. Only the hottest guy from my high school.”
“He’s your age?”
“No. Year older. He’s twenty-four I think. Baseball star and extremely good wake boarder.”
“And now he’s a construction worker.”
“And now he’s a construction worker,” Stevie agreed. “Should I try flirting with him? I mean you’re banging one. I might as well see what they’re all about.”
Taking the form I filled out for the order, I handed it to Stevie. “Here, go have him fill in the rest of the details. Maybe then you can get to know him.”
She frowned, wiping chocolate from her fingers by licking them. “Nah, you do it.”
Stevie was lazy. But I loved having her around and she mostly did what I told her to do. She was one of those employees who you knew were good, only they just hadn’t found what motivated them yet.
“Sometimes I wonder why I pay you,” I teased, taking back the order form and heading over to the kitchen where Brevin was. He was measuring counter height for Josh when I reached them, both looking at me curiously. “Hey, so I need you to fill this out for the delivery.” I handed the form to Brevin. “I don’t need it right away but when you’re finished, hand it back to Stevie.”
“Who’s Stevie?” he asked, looking over my shoulder and never at me directly.
I gestured behind me. “Her. The one with the crazy curls.”
“Okay.” Nodding, he folded up the form and then stuffed it in his back pocket.
I wasn’t good with directions.
Which was potentially a problem when your main goal during the day was to deliver cupcakes to clients. You wanted to be efficient and arrive on time.
Brevin Chase lived out on Boston Harbor road amongst fancy homes and the waterfront. His parents actually did at least.
Stevie gave me the low-down on the Chase family. Brevin had five sisters. Five of them. And I was sure they were all as pretty as him. He looked like a brooding model looking for the next gig in a coffee shop in New York City. Seemed so strange to see him as a construction worker laying tile and concrete for a living.
Tucked away behind a dense layer of trees, a long winding driveway led you up to what appeared to be the white house. No lie. It was huge and had these long white pillars in front. Either this was Obama’s second home, or Brevin’s parents were loaded.
Another thing Steven informed me of was Brevin’s dad was an accountant and his mom was a chef. I wanted to meet her, you know, since we shared the common interest of food and all.
When I arrived, I could immediately tell where the party was based on the level of screaming coming from the backyard. The party wasn’t supposed to start for another hour, so they said, but it seemed they had some excited little girls on their hands.
I parked next to Brevin’s sleek black vintage motorcycle, and on the other side of that was a freaking Jaguar.
I grew up in a family where we could barely keep our minivan running. Nice cars weren’t something we had the pleasure of owning.
Just as I was carrying the first of four boxes of cupcakes around the side of the house down a pebbled stone walkway, I spotted Brevin in a pair of black shorts and a white and gray tank top. He must have heard me pull up because he was already walking toward me. “Hey, do you need help with those?”
“Yes, please.” I nodded to my car behind me. “There’s three more boxes.”
“Okay.” He then turned, facing a group of girls gathered around a small oval table arranging pink and purple cups. “Andrea and Leslie, help me carry the cupcakes.”
Two girls with dark hair approached, smiling. I didn’t say anything to them at first, until I was at the table carefully removing the cupcakes and arranging them on the tiered crystal display they had.
Soon Brevin and the girls returned with the additional boxes. Once I had them all arranged, I turned to smile at Brevin who was watching me with rapt attention. “Those look delicious.”
I handed him one of the dozen extras I brought. I always brought around a dozen extra just in case I lost a few on the drive over. It happened more than I liked to admit.
Brevin’s eyes lit up when he saw them. “I’m more of a cake man, but these do look good.”
“A cake man?” I pointed at him, my finger dangerously close to his chest that I bet was rock hard under that Abercrombie tank top.
“I don’t like just a taste of anything. I like cake because it’s bigger. You get more for your money.”
“Is that so?”
He nodded, taking a large bite from the cupcake, chocolate frosting smearing all over his lips.
Another dark-hair girl strutted past, glaring at Brevin. “You have chocolate on your face.”
With quick hands, he grabbed a hold of her and wiped his chocolate face on her forearm.
“What do you see in this asshole, anyway?” the girl asked me, assuming I was his girlfriend, giving her brother a backhanded slap to his shoulder and wiping away the chocolate.
“Oh I’m not seeing him.” I had to clarify, only to have Brevin start laughing. “I made the cupcakes.”
“Oh…” And then she smiled at Brevin. “In that case, go for this one. She’s better than the trash you usually have around.”
“I don’t date trash,” Brevin noted and then gave her a nod. “Logan, this is my highly annoying younger sister, Ashley.”
“Whatever, Brevin.” Ashley rolled her eyes and shook my hand. “Nice to meet you.” And then she regarded her brother again. “My room was next to yours. I know—”
Before she could say anymore, Brevin pushed his sister into the pool. Fully clothed. “Don’t listen to her. She’s a lying asshole.” And then he smiled, goofy and flirty, with wide eyes. “Stay a little while.”
“Oh, I should go.” I motioned around toward the house and then realized I hadn’t shut the hatch to my car. “I don’t usually stay and I left my back open.”
“You’re back?”
“My trunk…” And then I realized that too sounded weird. “I left my car open.”
He regarded me for a moment, his eyes sweeping down my body, amusement in his eyes. Underneath that amusement was something more. He was checking me out. Every inch. “I bet I could convince you to stay.”
“You probably could.”
What?
Logan. What the hell are you talking about? Josh is expecting you.
BREVIN WAS FAIRLY convincing because I did stay.
I met Brevin’s sisters. Stevie was right. He had five sisters.
“You really have five sisters?”
He grinned. “Yep. Five. Four older, one younger. My parents tried for a boy and when they finally got me they were done. Then whoops, when I was just starting kindergarten she got pregnant again.”
“No shit?”
“Yep. They all hate me too.”
“I doubt that.”
“If you’d like to ask them, you can. I was the little annoying brother trying on their pantyhose and putting gum in their hair.”
“Who even wears pantyhose anymore?”
“Exactly.” His perfect grin made me want to stare at him.
“The one you met, that’s Ashley. She’s younger than me. The rest are older and standing over there being the judgmental bitches they are.” He pointed to the table with the food and them arranging and then re-arranging the food. “The one with the blue dress and short dark hair, that’s Bethany. She’s a year older than me and tries to act like my mother.”
Looking around at the crowd of fifty people and among the children now running wild through the backyard with perfectly green grass that looked as if it should have belonged in Yankee Stadium.
Brevin pointed to a taller woman with the same dark hair, only she had curly hair that was pulled back under a baseball cap. “That’s Cortney and the two next to her are Andrea and Leslie.”
“And they’re all your sisters?”
“Last time I checked.”
A smile graced his lips as he relaxed into a chair, beer in hand. “What about you? Siblings?”
“I have two older sisters. Kinsley and Charley.”
“What about your parents? They around? Dad?”
“Never knew him.”
“Shitty. His loss.” He seemed sincere. “Mom?”
My response was curt, more so than I intended it to be, but there was a lot about my mom and sisters that made me sad. “Yeah, she’s around.”
