Page 34 of The Gift
“You talked about trust earlier. Well, sort of. I cut you off, but I knew where you were going, if that makes sense. We do this though, Koda, trust doesn’t scratch the surface of what I’m asking of you.”
“Your way, Bails. Promise,” he answers as soon as I finish talking, his voice so low that it emulates the intimacy I imagined, bringing the emotion from my mind to my reality.
“Bails? Seems you’ve jumped ahead of whatever this is if you’ve reverted to nicknames already.”
He turns slightly, flicking his eyebrow up suggestively, tapping the side of his head too. “Just because I don’t talk much sometimes, doesn’t mean it’s quiet as fuck in my head. I talk to myself about you a lot, and I visualise doing a lot of things to you too, but you’re always leading the way. And yeah, you’ve always been Bails. Problem?”
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I admit, matching his truth with my own.
“Do you need to?”
“Yes.”
He nods his head and closes his eyes, perhaps giving us both a chance to rethink, although I know he’s made his decision and in a lot of ways I’ve made mine.
I’ve always considered myself an anal risk taker. Which is a strange combination. I take risks that are calculated. Before I jump into the situation I’ve run through everything. I’ve obsessed about shit that could never possibly happen and every time I question whether I’m acting stupidly. If I’m acting recklessly, it’s based upon how I feel deep, deep in the most private part of me. No one, no fucking person on this planet has the right to ever say that I got what I deserved in light of any decision I made for me.
If I didn’t feel like I could trust him, and this situation, I’d grab the CB radio and call Sonny Junior and his buxom bosomed girlfriend to come pick me up, but instead I undo the racing harness, cranking up the heater to high, and keep staring him down. Letting my eyes devour him, really.
Koda is stunning. He’d be less than impressed if I called him pretty, but he’s that too in a way if dark was your weakness. It’s usually not mine, that’s for sure. Men like him scream conquest, but I’m not asking for commitment and I think I need to be destroyed.
His Adam’s apple, hidden under a stylised tattoo that rings his neck, glides up and down, slowly. The scent rolling off him has me blowing a deep slow breath out, and I have to drop my head forward to enjoy it properly.
We don’t speak as he peels out of there. He drops the gears down low, so the rumble I felt briefly before vibrates through my seat bringing a deep shiver to every part of my body. It feels insanely good, waking my needy side better than my neon pink rabbit vibrator could do on full speed. And we haven’t even started down Come Road. The tremors build, at a damn near perfect speed too.
He chuckles when I moan softly, but it’s a good sound and adds layers to what’s going on between us. Closing my eyes, I savour the lead up, drawing in the way he smells and getting off on the encouraging noises that tell me he’s enjoying this as much as I am.
Things change and deepen between us, and when my own scent rises up to meet his, a noise like a deep purr or slow growl rumbles from him. And for the first time in never, I don’t cower to the alpha in Koda, I accept it, and my own sweet perfume fills the scent in the car. Even with my fucked-up senses, it’s heavenly.
The truck rolls to a stop and the revs of the engine are almost whisper quiet. Opening my eyes, I’m surprised and ready as we both stare down the road. Dropping the lights down to the lowest level possible, he flicks on his stereo again and the first thumping deep bass from the stereo booms through, shaking away any lingering what-ifs. The music, the lights, the engine all add to the mood. Like the AWOL nation keep promising, I’ll be sailing. I know it already.
Koda plants his foot down, my heart races and my panties drench, and despite the stereo and his monster truck, I hear his growl under it all. But it doesn’t freak me out. The noise he makes harmonises like a song with the other rumbling noises, ruining my silk padded underwear.
Messing with the speed, he watches the smallest cues I make to find the right speed that brings a constant throb to my pussy. Seriously, I hope he has a car detailer on hand, because while I’m locked up so tight, I already can feel how messy his seat and I are going to get.
The first time I come in Koda’s car, I barely make a noise or move a muscle. So he turns the music up louder. It’s the only time he moves his hands off the steering wheel. He barely finishes the same route again and I’m moaning, panting like I’m singing on stage with the song we’re listening to.
Throwing my head back, I have to stop. It’s too much.
“Stop the car, Koda,” I whine, or plead, lost in a loud sea of pleasure.
He slams the brakes on with one foot, and with the other he powers the engine and I flick the seat belt off before crawling under his arms and onto his lap. Spinning his cap so nothing can come between us.
His arms are ramrod straight. He doesn’t say a word, but his jaw chews aggressively. I know without a doubt my eyes would be exactly the same as his, swimming in desire, but he doesn’t move a muscle, except to keep the car purring along.
“Can I?” I ask him, my fever pitch arousal makes my voice deep and husky.
He doesn’t use his words to answer, but tips his hips up hitting against my need, like we’re already fucking. I smile, dirty whispered words said straight into his ear. I lick his ear like it’s a lolly pop as I grind my hips up and down him.
“Drive,” I whisper, looking away from the swirling heat in his eyes as I hitch my skirt up over my hips, my legs wide showcasing a large wet spot on my underwear. I watch Koda, his eyes are locked on the dampness, his tongue moving, like he’s searching for a taste.
I rub my fingers over the front of my panties, and they come back glistening and wet without even being inside. Tempting the beast, I use my slick to gloss his lips. But I already know, he’smysilent beast.
Koda’s shoulders lock down as his nose flares wide, his teeth dragging back into his mouth every part of the slippery trail I’ve left behind on his lips. I know emphatically he can taste my truth on them, and I see burning conviction in his eyes.
I don’t need to question him. I damn near hear him in my thoughts like he’s screaming at me to trust him, to let go and trust this. And there’s a part of me that wonders if his voice right now would be as sensual and emotion laden as the one I hear pleading with me in my head or would it be frantic and needy like my own. Both work. Definitely both work.
The car rolls forward, almost too slowly, but we’re both a little dazed, getting caught up, nearly lost in what we’re doing. Koda keeps the speed slow, so I can find some traction with my legs on the edge of his seat so I pretty much hover like a fucking squat queen, as I toy with the belt on his pants. He raises up enough for me to tug them down, but his cock gets caught on the edge, making him hiss. He loses his composure, his breath like that of a dragon, rushing past his tight lips the minute I wrap my hand around him. Well try to. Because Koda is hung like a fucking horse.
