Once the Avalon is secured to the back of the truck, Benny opens his passenger door. “Sorry, kids, only one passenger seat. You’ll have to make do.” I suck back a smile because Benny just called us kids despite being maybe five years older than Dax, and I am not the least bit upset about this arrangement.
Dax gets into the cab first, then offers me a hand. We quickly determine that our two sets of hips will not fit in the seat side by side, so the best arrangement is me on Dax’s lap. The seatbelt doesn’t quite reach around our two bodies, so as Benny starts the engine and the truck rumbles to life, Dax winds his arms around my waist, once again pulling me into his chest.
My god, I love his smell. The soap. The cologne with a little sweat and sex. I’d lick his neck if Benny weren’t two feet away. And because the Dax and Gemma telepathy continues to be a thing, Dax’s thumb finds the cutout of my sundress. He slowly strokes the tiny triangle of bare skin, back and forth. It’s the smallest movement, but it drives me wild and has me thinking of his fingers on the hem of my underwear not so long ago.
I shift my hips, mostly because all my lower regions are getting all riled up again, and when I do, I notice that I’m not the only one in this truck who is turned on.
Dax is hard. Really hard. Like, metal-rod-topped-with-denim hard. And with the way I’m positioned in his lap, if said denim was removed, we’d be halfway to sex right now. The current situation, although clothed, is still rather pleasant. I shift my hips slowly back and forth, providing a delightful amount of friction exactly where I need it. It feels good. Damn good. So good that if I’m not careful, I’m going to come on Benny’s front seat, and with the way the pressure is building below, I doubt I could be discreet.
Dax’s thumb pauses, and his arms squeeze me tightly, limiting my ability to maneuver my hips. Dax dips his head and nudges me with his nose so he can whisper in my ear, “You’re killing me right now, you know that, right?”
The heat from his breath makes the little hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I’m so turned on that I can’t think rationally. Half of my brain thinks it’s an excellent idea to undo his pants right now just so I can stroke him, Benny be damned.
The tow truck takes a sharp left, pulling into the back parking lot of a garage and sabotaging all of my plans.
“I just need to go in through the side and open the garage door, then I’ll be back to take care of ya,” Benny says, completely oblivious to what is happening on his passenger seat. When Benny disappears out of view, Dax lifts me off his lap and onto the seat as he slides out and walks uncomfortably away from the truck, shaking one leg and then the other.
“Where are you going?” I call after him, knowing exactly what he’s trying to do.
He turns and gives me a stern glare as he points to the situation in his pants. “I need to get this under control before I’m arrested for being a pervert.”
Dax makes a long loop of the parking lot. By the time Benny opens the garage door, Dax and his pants look normal again.
“I got some good news,” Benny says to Dax. “Called a buddy in the east end, and he has the part you need. We can get it done this week. But I’m gonna need to charge you for the part now. We can settle on the rest later.”
Dax’s face drops as his hands move to his back pocket. He looks over at me, then back to Benny. “Yeah. Not a problem. I’m just gonna need to figure something out. I left my credit card at home.”
There’s an easy solution to this problem. “We can use mine.” I open my purse and root through it for my wallet.
“No,” Dax says, a little more forcefully than I expect. “No. You do not have to do that, Gemma. I got it. I just…” He pulls his phone from his other pocket. “I’m gonna call you an Uber. I hate doing this again, but I think we need to cut our night short. This is gonna take a while to deal with.”
The sinking in my stomach is trumped only by the state of confusion in my head. There’s an easy and logical solution to this problem that allows us to get out of here quickly and on to the sex. But as my eyes find Dax’s and see the same crushing disappointment on his face, my thoughts are clear enough to recognize that this Dax still doesn’t know me that well. I can see how it would be awkward to ask your date to help fix your car. We’re still a long way away from that level of closeness.
“Okay,” I say reluctantly. “And please don’t worry about the Uber. I’m going to walk home.”