Kissing In Cars

by Sara Ney

  Cause lord knows I want to.

  I sit up and reach to pull the seat back to a sitting position.

  The silence hangs over her unfinished sentence as those last few words sink it. 'I mean, it's not like I'm your' - girlfriend. She was obviously about to say it, and suddenly this is a moment of clarity for me - that unspoken 'girlfriend' has got my mind working.

  So I let the word marinade inside my brain.

  "My Uncle Leo is getting married in Chicago at Millennium Park that day and I'm an usher." A little 'O' forms on Molly's mouth as the words sink in, followed by a slow grin that settles onto her lips. Good, I've managed to surprise her. "So obviously, I can't go to Fall Formal." By the way, thanks Uncle Leo. Because let's be honest: I wouldn't have gone to the dance anyways, but Molly doesn't need to know that.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  MOLLY

  "Seriously, one of the Top Five reasons to own a car is so you can make out in it. I'm pretty sure I read that somewhere." - Jenna

  That's it - he's going to a wedding. He's not repulsed by the thought of taking me out in public, and he's not ashamed to be seen with me at a school function. I let this new information process inside my brain - and my insides fill with warmth again. All of the rejection and embarrassment I felt a few minutes earlier have fled as fast as they'd arrived and I survey Weston with a new appreciation.

  I feel... overjoyed.

  Ecstatic.

  Giddy.

  Suddenly, he's all the more attractive - and who'd have thought that could even be possible.

  The silence (well, technically it's not at all silent because the noise from the rain continues to fill the cab of my Jeep with the sound of tiny drums banging on the side of my car) is too much for me, so I reach forward and take a pack of gum out of the cup holder, offering one to Weston. "Would you like a piece?"

  "Sure. Actually, can I have two? One can never be too fresh."

  "Of course." I take two sticks out and un-wrap them, setting them in his open palm. Without even meaning to, I let my fingers linger before taking my hand away.

  "Mmm, mint makes me sleepy." Weston lets out a short yawn and pats his mouth before popping the gum inside. "Long day." He gives me a look and smiles before closing his eyes, chewing slowly.

  "You're not seriously going to take a nap are you?" Because I seriously don't think I would be able to stand it. Sitting in this small car with him so nearby is...well, I'll just say it: it's making me want to climb into his lap and kiss him all over. Even the sound of him breathing is making me hot all over.

  "Why, did you have something else in mind?" He's smirking with his eyes closed.

  Perfect.

  And yes, I do have something else in mind but I'm not saying so out loud. "Um... not really." Liar, liar, pants on fire.

  "Really?" He opens his eyes at looks at me, the skepticism written all over his face. He looks at my lips before saying, "That's strange - because I can think of a few hundred things to do right now and they definitely all involve parts of your body." He chuckles to himself and I shiver. "Don't hate me for saying so."

  I dig deep inside myself to summon the inner Jenna that seems to want to come out, and only falter a split second before I murmur, "So what are you going to do about it?"

  Weston looks at me with his eyes wide and says slowly, "I'm sorry. Did you just beg me to make out with you, or am I losing my hearing?"

  I slap the steering wheel and laugh. "I am not begging you to make out with me. I was just being...suggestive."

  Weston sits up quickly and looks out the window, surveying the parking lot. His hand rests on the door handle. "On the count of ten, we're going to jump out and get in the back seat. One... two... TEN!" Weston's door flies open and rain blows into the cab before I can throw my own door open - but soon we're both in the back seat of my Jeep, wiping the rain from our faces.

  "Is this the reason you offered me gum? So I would taste delicious when you finally put the moves on me?" His face is now dangerously close, and I can smell the mint on his breath.

  I shrug. "Maybe, maybe not."

  "Want to find out?" He digs a piece of scrap paper from his pocket before removing the gum from his mouth and depositing there.

  "Yes..." I whisper and my head falls to the headrest. Weston's face is suddenly inches from mine and even though it's dark I can see every line etched in his face. We study each other quietly until his large hand comes up to rest on my face, the only noise from the pounding rain.

  I must say: it's incredibly romantic and if there was ever a moment a girl could create in her mind of the perfect scenario, it would be this one... a hundred million times over.

  "I've been waiting all day to do this." Weston says, the mint from his breath touching my face before his lips do, soft and light. In the dark of the backseat of my Jeep, his lips linger over the corner of my eyelids, brushing them there for briefest of seconds. "And this..." Now his lips brush the tip of my nose in the barest of touches, so delicately my lips begin to ache.

  I inhale the smell of him; his light cologne, the scent of his forest-ey shampoo...the fresh aroma of the rain in his hair - and probably mine too. Without thinking, my cheek grazes the side of his face and I sniff along his strong jaw line, wondering where this self-control is coming from. "You smell so good," I murmur.

  Then his fingers are running through my ponytail, caressing the long silky strands before he lets it go and plants his hands behind my head - and I know now he's about to kiss me, kiss me. "I wouldn't mind kissing your lips every day," he says the instant before our lips meet, slowly - almost excruciatingly so - and it's so very different from that urgent first kiss on my front porch... the lightness of this contact has me sighing out loud.

  Have you ever kissed someone and you could... feel them smiling? Because I swear that's what Weston is doing, and soon I'm grinning too because honestly, I'm so damn blissful right now in this moment.

  I could live in this car, surviving solely on his kisses.

  Weston pulls his head back to look at me. "What are you smiling at?" he asks, holding my face in his hands, stroking my temples with his thumb.

  "Same thing you are, I imagine. Why aren't you kissing me?" I pucker my lips.

  So he does.

  WESTON

  I'll be the first to admit that being in the backseat of this Jeep isn't the most ideal situation. But it beats the hell out of the front, where there were too many obstacles in the way, one being the clutch separating the two front seats.

  So even though I'm way too big to be back here, it's more fun than I've had in a long time, and I can't stop myself from smiling, even though we're in the middle of a kiss.

  I pull my head so I can look at Molly directly and ask, "What are you smiling at?"

  Her teeth are bright white against her golden skin, and I can see the tiny freckles on her nose even though the only light is from the street lamps in the parking lot - the heavy sheets of rain dimming them considerably.

  "Same thing you are, I imagine." The smile hasn't left her face, but then she cocks her head sideways and asks, "Why aren't you kissing me?" Molly puckers those wonderfully juicy lips and being unable to resist, I tip my head forward the smallest inch and suction my mouth to her bottom lip, sucking it and running my tongue along her teeth.

  Her mouth opens and our tongues meet in an all-consuming kiss that leaves us both breathless - it's my favorite kind: sloppy and wet, for neither of us care about taking our time. I might even be drooling: who the hell knows.

  Who the hell cares.

  Molly's teeth nibble hesitantly at my lower lip and I feel her shiver. I place my hands upon her shoulders, running them up and down her arms before spanning them on her waist, dangerously close to the underside of her breasts. My fingers begin itching to travel south, down to the threadbare hem of her navy blue tank top, and, never one to ignore my inner urges I let them do just that.

  Her breath hitches and her back arches in an unspoken invit
ation.

  MOLLY

  'Oh my god, oh my god' are the only words going through my head right now - well, those and 'holy shit he's about to touch my boobs' as Weston's capable fingers trail the length of my shirt, lightly skimming back and forth along the hem and I bite back the small gasp stuck in my throat, afraid it will make me sound like the virgin that I'm not.

  And the reality is... I really don't have much experience with guys, and I've only been felt up a handful of times by guys more inexperienced than I am.

  It's confession time - I've only ever had sex one time.

  Here's the ugly truth: I didn't want to head off to college without having done it at least once (the world's worst logic, I know), and if my parents found out the circumstances they would be so pissed.

  Matt would go postal.

  'It' happened one weekend about four months ago. My whole family was in Madison for one of Matt's hockey games, when my parents naively let me spend the night at Matt's house instead of with them at their hotel. I wasn't drunk, I wasn't getting out of control - but the opportunity presented itself in the form of hottie Badger goalie Ryan LeShea - who flirted and followed me around all night, and who had no problem what-so-ever doing the honor of debauching me after a raucous victory party.

  It wasn't magical.

  It hurt like hell.

  It definitely wasn't love or anything even remotely close to it.

  And yeah, I haven't seen him since (not that I want to).

  So, as Weston's fingers graze the skin under my thin shirt, I can't help but tense up slightly from the contact and hope he doesn't notice - it feels foreign to have a guys' hand up my shirt, even though it feels great. Suddenly he halts his movements. "Is this okay babe?" he asks. "If you're not comfortable I can stop." Weston is looking down at me, concern in his dark brown eyes.

  It's the word 'babe' that does it for me.

  I love hearing it almost as much as I love...

  Instead of speaking, I take his hand and guide it higher. He groans into my neck as his fingers skim the underside of my breasts, teasing the light fabric of my bra.

  WESTON

  Molly feels so good I could almost cry.

  Okay. So, obviously that is an exaggeration - but I'm merely trying to illustrate a point: touching Molly and kissing her is...beyond amazing.

  Her skin is ridiculously soft, and my hands are so calloused and rough that I'm slightly awestruck by the difference. I feel her body tense up when my fingers graze her stomach, so I pull away again to ask "Is this okay babe? If you're not comfortable I can stop."

  The babe reference slips out before I can stop it, but it sounds nice to my ears. And apparently to Molly's because her eyes get big and fill with something that looks to me like adoration. She takes my hand and guides it underneath her shirt.

  Then my brain goes to a place it's gone to a million times before: only this time I blurt my thoughts out aloud, well ahead of any common sense, and with no thought to the consequences. I know I shouldn't say it but, "Molly are you... a virgin?"

  Her lips hover over my jawline and I feel her rapid breathing on my neck. "Why? Are you planning on defiling me tonight?"

  "No! I mean... I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to, but no." Let's see, how do I put this? "But oh my god, it's all I can think about. Not that I'd want to do 'it' in a Jeep. Well, yeah, I would do it in the Jeep if you - "

  Yeah, yeah - I know I'm babbling. But not for long because Molly cuts my words off and she devours my lips before I can say anything even more stupid (hard to believe, right?), her hands raking through my hair. Her fingernails scraping along my scalp feel fucking amazing - almost as good as her lips... but not quite.

  We make out like this for who knows how long, until I feel the pressure of Molly's palms against my chest. She pushes at me, shoving my shoulders into the back of the seat until I'm facing forward, and before I can protest the loss of our contact, she surprises me by easing a leg up over my lap to straddle me.

  I grab onto her waist with renewed enthusiasm.

  My hands effortlessly find their way back under her shirt, and my crotch gets even harder (if that's even possible). I skim the underside of her bra, brushing my fingers back and forth against the lacey obstacle before my index finger lazily trails upward to trace the edge just above the cup.

  Briefly I wonder what color her bra is before my whole palm envelopes her entire breast. As every teenage boy is wont to do, I feel its weight under my hand and give it a light squeeze, which earns me a throaty moan and a few grinding gyrations from Molly's hips into my groin.

  "Fuck me that feels good," I croak out before I can stop myself. "Shit Molly, don't stop doing that." My plea is desperate even to my own ears as her denim clad ass grinds down on my erection, but it's been months since I've been laid and even longer since it's been anyone I actually gave a shit about. Okay, to be fair: I've never given a shit about anyone I've ever had sex with - so this whole 'caring' thing is something new, and I plan to enjoy it.

  Even from the backseat of a cramped Jeep.

  Molly's incredible tits are in my face now; the neckline of her tank top is now dipping so low from the pull of my hands inside it that her breasts are nearly exposed... and as Molly gasps out loud from my ministrations and further buries her fingers in the hair atop my head, I lean forward the slightest inch to press my lips against her soft, moist neck, trailing hot kisses down her collar bone towards her cleavage with a purpose.

  Unable to stop myself, I lick between the valley of her breasts, letting my hot tongue linger on her salty skin. She smells like citrus, an aroma that I've come to fully appreciate as being uniquely Molly. I can't even eat an orange in the school cafeteria these days without getting turned on, for God's sake.

  Somewhere from inside the Jeep, a cell phone rings.

  Caught up in each other, we ignore it.

  "Oh Weston, yeah..." Molly mutters. So sexy.

  The phone begins ringing again, and through my fuzzy sex crazed haze, I recognize the ringtone: It's my mom.

  Fuck shit, double shit.

  "Babe, I have to get that," I gasp into Molly's plump cleavage. "It's my mom. She'll kill me if I don't answer it." Groaning, Molly untangles herself from my lap and I let my palm cup her ass before it lands in the seat next to mine.

  Digging in my pants pocket, I extract my cell and make quick work of redialing my parents. Immediately, my mom's voice answers. "Where are you? It's raining buckets and your father was just about to come out looking for you."

  "I'm stranded in a parking lot, waiting it out with a friend."

  Brief pause.

  My mom's not an idiot. "Does this 'friend' have a vehicle that can deliver you home? You can leave the bike and your dad can bring you back to get it later."

  I glance at Molly. "Yes."

  "Okay. Then she can come in and meet us when you get here. I expect you home in fifteen minutes."

  Click.

  The line goes dead, and I stare at my phone.

  "What did she say," Molly asks from beside me with wide eyes, cheeks flushed from my five o'clock shadow, and lips swollen from my kisses.

  Unable to resist the temptation, I lean over and give her an open mouth kiss before saying, "They want to meet you."

  MOLLY

  Dear lord, did he just say what I think he said?

  "They want to...meet me?" Stupidly I repeat what he just told me, which, incidentally, I absolutely hate when people do it to me. Drives me bonkers.

  "Yeah. I mean, I don't think that was originally the intention, but now that I'm stranded here the opportunity presented itself. My mom said they want me to leave the bike here and when you bring me home, they want you to come in and meet them. Are you cool with that?" Weston looks are me expectantly.

  "I... sure. I mean... I guess the better question here is, are you okay with it?"

  He opens his mouth to answer, but before any words come out, there is a loud banging on the back window of the je
ep. We both turn in surprise to see Mary and Olivia with their hands and faces pressed up against the glass, and now they're shouting but I can't for the life of me understand what they're saying.

  "What the fuck?" Weston voices exactly what I am thinking before scooting over and rolling the window down halfway, rain suddenly intruding on our warm, dry haven. "What the hell are you two doing," he asks, completely disgusted.

  "Mary was worried you were stranded because your crotch rocket is still here, so we wanted to check and see if you needed a ride." The rain is battering down on them both and now they look like drowned rats. At this point, Olivia's mascara is running down her face and she looks like Alice Cooper, a rock star from the 80's who resembles a corpse.

  Or a zombie. Whatever it is you're into.

  "Are you fucking kidding me? I'm in the back of a Jeep with my... with Molly. Why would you think I needed a ride home?"

  Okay, even I'll admit he's being a tad harsh.

  Olivia and Mary just stand in dark parking lot, rain shining under the dull street lamps that fail to light it. Water drips off Mary's nose as she stands there getting soaked and I can't help but take pity on them. "Go you guys! Go dry off before you get sick. We're leaving anyways."

  They turn and run through the parking lot towards their red beat up car, and Weston rolls up the back window. "Can you believe that? Not a lick of common sense between them."

  "Well... one of them has a crush on you, so... I'm sure they thought they were being helpful." Why I'm defending them when they so clearly ignored me twice today is beyond me, but it truly is hard not to feel somewhat sorry for someone begging for attention from a guy as good looking and popular as Weston McGrath. It's almost unavoidable.

  What can I say - he has a way about him that makes girls crazy.

  Not me obviously, but... lots of girls.

  "Maybe so, but that was annoying." He looks at me and runs his fingers through his hair. "I guess we can't sit here all night feeling each other up, as much as I'd like to. So let's get cranking and get this meeting with my parents over with."