“But she’s right out—”
My words broke off when he claimed my mouth, and continued to pump me from behind, thrusting deep and fast.
“Oh, Jesus,” I moaned, tearing my lips away from his, as I sagged against the steering wheel, gripping it tightly, while my hips bucked restlessly on his lap. “Don’t stop.”
Reaching a hand between my thighs, he located my clit like the champ he was and thumbed it with just enough pressure to make my toes curl. There were no fumbling fingers from this boy. He knew exactly where to touch me, and how much force to use.
“Hey, assholes, the windows might be tinted in this fancy-ass Range Rover, but it’s still rocking.”
“Go away, Case,” I cried out, breathless. “I’m…busy.”
“Yeah, busy getting your hole, you little whore,” my best friend grumbled. “We were meant to go shopping after school, remember? I waited at the bus stop for an hour—”
“Fuck off, Case!” Joey bit out, as he cupped my breast in his free hand and quickened his pace. “Jesus, baby. Your friend is a fucking disaster.”
“Ignore her,” I cried out.
“How?” he demanded. His thighs were shaking, sending vibrations shooting through my body, which was a sure way to tell that he was close. “She’s got her face pressed to the window.”
“Omigod, Casey, go away!” I screamed out, chasing my release as my body grew more frantic with need. “Please.”
“Okay, fine,” I heard her call back. “Tony’s just after pulling up in the tow-truck, but whatever.”
“Aw, shit!”
Joey was out of me in an instant, literally throwing me off his lap and onto the plush leather passenger seat, as he scrambled to pull his clothes back on.
“Your old fella went to Skibbereen for a catalytic converter for Johnny Crowley’s Subaru,” he panted, breathless. “He shouldn’t be back for at least another hour.”
“You could’ve finished,” I laughed, slipping my bra back on and fumbling with the buttons of my school shirt before reaching for my skirt. “She’s only messing, Joe. My dad’s not outside.”
“Hello, Casey, love,” I heard my father say. “Strange seeing you at the garage.”
We both froze.
I locked eyes on Joey. “Oh…”
“Shit,” he finished for me, eyes growing wide as saucers.
“Hey, T-Daddy. I was just looking for Aoife.”
“Ah, she’ll be over at The Dinniman around this time of the evening. Any sign of young Joey around the place?”
“Aw Jesus Christ,” Joey practically whimpered, as he hastily slid his arms back into his overalls and fell out of the driver’s door and swiftly slammed it shut behind him, leaving me hidden behind the tinted windows. “I’m here, Tony.”
“What were ya doing in John Kavanagh’s old doll’s pride and joy, boyo?”
“Just, ah, getting a feel for it.” There was a brief pause before he added, “Closest I’ll ever get to sitting behind the wheel of a Range Rover.”
“I know the feeling, boyo.”
“You’re back early.”
“I only went and forgot my wallet, didn’t I?”
“Disaster.”
“Not completely. Come on into the office for a cuppa, and let me tell ya about this old doll I met broken down on the road.”
A few moments later, the passenger door swung open and I was faced with a grinning Casey. “Okay, the coast is clear. Daddy took baby-daddy to the office.”
“Baby-daddy?”
“It was a joke, babe. Chill.”
“Not funny, Case.”
Blowing out a shaky breath, I readjusted my skirt and scrambled out of the car, hunching low as I crept towards the exit, resisting the urge to tumble and roll in my bid to escape.
“I thought you were joking about Dad.” A relieved laugh escaped me when we reached the footpath. “God, that was close.”
“You know,” Casey mused, falling into step beside me. “I should be mad at you for blowing me off to blow him, but I’m going let you off the hook this time, since he has such a pretty cum face.”
“You didn’t see his cum face.”
“Maybe not, but if those flushed cheeks are anything to go by, then I can use my imagination.”
“Casey,” I warned. “Don’t be looking at him like that.”
“Like what?” She laughed, holding her hands up. “Like he’s the epitome of sex on legs? Because, news flash, Aoif, the boy is divine.”
“The boy is mine,” I warned. “So, find some other epitome to admire.”
“Oh, retract the claws.” Hooking an arm around my neck, she pulled me in for a side-hug. “You know I would never ever, ever, in a million years go there.”
“Hm.” Reaching into the pocket of my skirt, I withdrew a lollypop and tore off the wrapper. “It just irks me sometimes, you know?” Sticking the pop into my mouth, I dropped my head to rest on hers, and mumbled, “He’s been with a lot of girls from school, Case. A lot of them.”
“So, he enjoyed himself,” she said. “Name one boy in our year that hasn’t?”
“There’s enjoying yourself, and there’s spreading yourself thin, Case.”
“Babe.” Sobering her features, she gave me a sympathetic look. “Don’t let those kinds of thoughts in. They’ll only screw up your happy, little love bubble.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Do you?”
I shrugged.
She rolled her eyes. “You’re dumb.”
“How’d you figure?” I laughed.
“Because you should be deliriously happy,” she explained. “Not worrying about who he’s been with in the past. Those girls are in the past for a reason, Aoif.” Waggling her brows, she added, “Besides, I sincerely doubt Danielle Long ever rocked his world in the front seat of a Range Rover.”
I smirked. “True.”
“Besides, Danielle might have been his first bang, but you’re his first love,” she added, bumping hips with me. “Trust me, that leaves one hell of a residual mark on a boy.”
“Well, he’s left his mark on me, Case.”
“Yeah,” my best friend agreed, giving me a peculiar look.
“What?” I asked, unsettled by the way she was looking at me. “What’s with the face?”
“Nothing, I just thought you had more to add,” she replied, still looking intensely at me. “Because you can tell me anything, Aoif.”
“I know.” I smiled. “Right back at you, Case.”
HO HO HO, JOE
JOEY
“Who’s up for a Chinese?” my father announced in a jovial tone, when he sauntered into the kitchen late Saturday evening, with two brown paper bags in his arms. “My numbers came up at the bookies and there’s plenty for everyone.”
With the plastic peeling from a shop-bought frozen lasagna in my hands, I watched as my mother and siblings all filed into the kitchen after him.
“Come on, boy,” he said, slapping the bags down on the table, while my mother hovered close by with a stack of plates. “Throw that shit away,” he commanded, waving a hand towards me. “There’s a chicken curry in here for you, too.”