I nod, and in comfortable silence, I drive us to Loch Thom and park next to the water.
I don’t move my hand away when she takes it, lacing our fingers and resting our hands in her lap. She looks so innocent and sweet and fucking adorable.
I’m going to miss her when I go to America for two weeks.
Stacey doesn’t let go of my hand as she unclips her belt and turns her body to face me. I do the same. “As much as I should be giving you shit for breaking into the studio and then into my garden, I find it cute that you went to those lengths.”
I tilt my head. “You knew I was in the studio?”
Nodding, she giggles. “I got an alert on my phone. I saw it when I turned it on. You’re lucky Tylar didn’t get one too. She would’ve called the police.”
“I guess I am lucky.”
“Hmm.”
“Hmm,” I repeat. “You sure you aren’t mad at me? I honestly fell asleep.”
“I believe you,” she says with a spark in her eyes. “You’re just my friend anyway.”
I narrow my eyes to slits. “Say that again and I’m going to kick you out of this car and drive away.”
“Will you at least kiss me before you do?”
“Maybe,” I say, letting go of her hand and curling a strand of hair behind her ear. “Maybe I’ll just kick you out and drive away.”
She snorts. “You think I believe with the lengths you went to see me, you’d leave me up here?”
“I guess we’ll see. ”
“Okay, friend.”
I open my door and she lets out a scream, scrambling away from the passenger door. As I try to catch her leg, she dives into the back seat. I climb in with her, and instead of dragging her out, I trap her beneath me, both hands above her head. We breathe heavily. We’re both smiling, her giggle making me smile harder.
“Do I Wanna Know?” by Arctic Monkeys is faintly playing on the radio. Her eyes drop to my mouth, fingers intertwining with my own, and as I lower my head slowly, my nose nudges hers.
“I’m not your friend, Freckles. Do you know why?” I kiss her lips. “Because friends don’t do this.” I kiss her again, her top lip, then the bottom, before dragging my mouth across the sharp line of her jaw. “If I was your friend, I wouldn’t think about you every second of the day. I wouldn’t want to feel you.” Taking flesh between my teeth, I suck, and she gasps. “All of you.”
And I mean it. I want her. I want her so bad my cock is fucking sore with how hard it is. I don’t want to just fuck her and disappear like Dez and Base do; I want to share every single first with her and stick around.
No matter what, the progression between me and Stacey will be slow. Progress is progress. I truly believe she won’t vanish because I need to take things in steps.
I pull my face back to look at her. “Am I your friend?”
“No.”
Taking her wrists with one hand, I use the other to move hair from her face, resting it as a collar on her throat. Her pulse is rapid against my palm, her pupils dilating more with each passing second. There’s a thrill in watching my fingers flex around her throat, a thrill I never knew existed.
I lean down and kiss her again, sucking on her bottom lip and then slipping my tongue into her mouth. Stacey chases my lips as I try to pull back, and her wrists get free; she shoves both hands into my hair and deepens the kiss. Tasting her, feeling her beneath me, even smelling her perfume has me parting her legs with my knee and settling properly between them.
I don’t freeze as I feel my dick against her – or as she wraps her legs around my waist and locks her ankles.
“Is this okay?”
“Yeah,” I reply into her mouth, our tongues tangling, lips moving, heads tilting. My hips absently roll into her, and we both gasp.
I do it again. And again. Fuck. And again.
She’s tugging at my hair as I grab her thigh, keeping the slow rhythm while kissing her. “I want to touch you. Can I touch you?”
She nods, her lips parted, pupils fully blown.
I shift onto my side, bringing her mouth back to mine as my fingers slowly travel from her cheek, across her jawline, down the expanse of her throat, and stopping on her right shoulder blade.
“I shouldn’t have broken into the studio,” I say as I trail over her breast, her hard nipple. No fucking bra.
“I’m glad you did,” she breathes, swiping her tongue against my bottom lip and taking it between her teeth as I tease along the waistband of her pants. “I’m also glad you fell asleep.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. You wouldn’t be here otherwise.” I stop breathing as she lowers her hand and grabs my dick. “I wouldn’t be able to do this.”
I press my mouth to hers harder, then pull away and tug at her waistband. “I’m taking these off.”
I lift her hips, yank the material down her smooth legs and kiss the side of her knee. I want to set fire to her shoes when the fabric snags on them. I pull both trainers off and toss them somewhere in the car, followed by her trousers.
In only her underwear and a pink hoodie, Stacey Rhodes lies beneath me, breathless, her lips full and begging for me to dive in again.
So I do. I swallow each gasp, each sound she makes as my hands explore her body.
Whimpering, she digs her nails into my arm as I lower my hand. I watch it glide over the soft skin of her abdomen, the muscles she’s been building for years, and stop at the waistband of her underwear.
I feel her with the tip of my middle finger. The material is fucking soaked, and I had no idea Base was telling the truth when he boasted about how wet he could get someone. Stacey is really wet for me as I tease her and kiss her and press against her clit through her underwear.
“Is this good?” I ask, slowly circling my finger.
She moans and rolls her hips up. “Yes.”
“You need to tell me what to do,” I say, not feeling an ounce of embarrassment. “When you touch yourself, what gets you off?”
Stacey wets her lips and rests one hand on my wrist, the other moving aside the triangle of fabric covering her. “What you were just doing – do it now.”
Her head drops back on the seat as I do just that, as I feel the slickness of her folds, the arousal against my fingers, the swollen clit that has her whimpering when I circle it with my thumb. Warm, wet, her eyes wild as I lean down to capture her mouth.
My cock hardens even more. “You’re so fucking perfect. ”
Her mouth breaks away from mine with a gasp as I slowly push one finger inside her. Gently, I wait, feeling her tightness, yet she’s soaked enough that I can probably push another in. But I’ll wait for her to adjust.
“Does it hurt?”
“No,” she replies and pulls my face back to hers. “Keep going.”
I slowly ease my middle finger in until I’m knuckle deep, then glide it out and back in. Each time I push, her body shakes. I add a second finger, being careful not to hurt her, and her lips travel to my throat, sucking as she gasps.
I bury my head down, inhaling the scent of her coconut shampoo. I get knuckle deep with both fingers, keeping my thumb on her clit, circling, pumping, feeling her breathing against my neck as I go a little faster, a little harder as I curl my fingers.