She moans as I kiss and suck on her, nibbling on the pebbled skin of her nipple.
“Jesus, we gotta get home,” I groan. “Or I’m going to fuck you right here.”
“Hey, Pike,” someone calls.
I pop up, Jordan yelps, and I wrap my arms around her as she tucks herself into my chest, trying to hide her barely clothed body.
“Shit,” I growl and turn my head, seeing Ben Lovell in his police car, idling right next to us. How did we not hear him drive up?
“Ben,” I say, breathing hard. “What the hell?”
He’s doing a lousy job of hiding his amusement as he answers, “Just doing my rounds, man,” he says. “Is that Chip Hadley’s girl you got there?”
“None of your business.” I shift, trying to make sure Jordan is out of his view.
But he still tries to peer over at her. “You okay, honey?” he asks, still smiling.
She hugs her arms to her body, covering her nakedness as she folds her smile between her teeth. “Um, yes, sir.”
He chuckles to himself and shakes his head. “Goddamn,” he mumbles under his breath, shifting his car into Drive and slowly moving on.
I wait for him to leave the parking lot before I turn to Jordan. “Don’t worry. He’ll keep quiet.”
Lovell isn’t a gossip.
She quickly pulls up the strap of her top and crosses her arms over her chest, looking around nervously.
“Come on.” I take her hand, leading her to my truck. “Let’s go home and go for a swim.”
“Naked?” she taunts.
I pull open her door for her, shaking my head. “No,” I reply. “Wear the shells. I’ve been dying for the chance to peel that suit off you.”
She smiles and climbs in the seat, and I walk around the car, opening my door. She takes out her phone, probably texting her sister to let her know she’s leaving, and I start the engine, kicking it into gear.
Before we’re even out of the parking lot, she crawls up next to me and starts nibbling on my neck.
“Speaking of suits…” she says, sliding a hand inside my jacket and caressing my chest. “I could get used to this look on you.”
“Don’t,” I warn. “It’s only for special occasions.”
“And I’m a special occasion?”
“I think you know you are,” I tease. “I don’t widen my comfort zone for just anyone.”
I flash her a smirk, not the least bit annoyed she’s flipped my whole carefully constructed, boring world upside down. I’m doing things I wouldn’t normally do just to please her, but she’s also making me feel things I haven’t felt in a long time. Some of them, never. I actually found myself entertaining a list in my head today of all the things I want to do with her. Take her to baseball games and on road trips, and I actually sifted through fucking eBay today for 80’s cassette tapes I thought I could surprise her with, like I’ll still be around for the holidays and her birthday next year, for crying out loud.
She makes me excited for everything to come. Whatever that is.
I turn to her, trying to keep one eye on the road and kiss her at the same time, but I just end up laughing.
“Buckle up. You’re gonna get me in trouble.”
She plops back on her ass and scoots over, pulling on her seatbelt.
“Oh,” I say, glancing at her, “and I know Mick wants to hire you. You’re not working there. You got that?”
She rests her head back on the seat, staring out the windshield. “Oh, are you laying down the law now?”
“I don’t like worrying. This gets settled now.”
I don’t really think she’s serious, but I like things carved in stone.
She just shrugs. “My sister makes good money. She’s not hurting anyone, and I’m not letting anyone support me.” She pauses and then continues. “I guess I’ll do what I have to do. I don’t really need your permission, you know?”
I dig in my eyebrows, the irritation of this situation crawling up my back.
But then I remember how hard she had to be pulled on stage tonight, obviously deciding that a wet T-shirt contest was not for her, no matter if she had gotten dressed for it or not.
I let out a little snort, remembering the way she protested. “I don’t even know what I’m concerned about,” I say, my voice thick with humor. “You’re a good girl. You don’t have what it takes to work there.”
“I’m not a girl.”
I press my lips together to stop smiling, but it’s hard. I know, I know, she’s a woman.
“And if Dutch or that little prick Jay or any of the guys who work for me come in?” I press. “You gonna be able to wear a bikini behind the bar and serve them drinks, or even worse, take off your clothes and dance for them? Let them use you to get off? Sit in their laps and rub up on them for forty bucks?”
I can’t help but laugh under my breath at the ridiculous notion. If she actually thinks about it and mentally puts herself in that situation, she’ll know it’s absurd.
She turns her head toward me. “Are you laughing at me?”
“I’m saying I know you,” I tell her, evening out my tone. “You and I both know you don’t have the guts any more than I would, so let’s stop wasting time arguing about something that will never happen.”
She faces forward and turns silent, but I see her jaw tense as she stares out the windshield. Assuming I know her mind more than she does is probably condescending, but she’s acting childish, keeping up this pretense. She has more common sense than that, and I don’t like games. She knows she would never be able to deal with those customers, and she definitely can’t strip and dance naked. She’d probably be so embarrassed to be stared at she’d break into tears.
Seven minutes later, though, I pull into the driveway, and she hops out before I’ve even killed the engine.
“Jordan?” I call, swinging my door open.
What the hell? We’re not fighting again, are we?
But she glances over her shoulder as she walks toward the porch. “I’m just gonna get in my swimsuit.”
I stand there, twirling the keyring on my finger. Oooookay.
Awareness pricks on the back of my neck, and I turn my head, scanning the neighborhood for Cole’s car or his mother’s. Then I dart my gaze over the windows of nearby houses for peeled-back curtains or movement.
I’m sure there’s talk on the block by now.
People notice things, and Cole is rarely here, while his girlfriend and I are constantly together. It won’t take long for people to come to their own conclusions.
By the time I make it into the house, Jordan is nowhere to be seen. Trailing upstairs, I pass her closed bedroom door and head to my room to change into swim shorts. She’s still in her room when I come out, and I head back downstairs to grab some water bottles and turn on the backyard lights. The pool lights up, and I turn on the radio affixed underneath the cabinet, some chick singing about Guys My Age already playing on the station Jordan has it tuned to.
My phone beeps with an unfamiliar ring, and I walk over to the island and pick it up.
Jordan.Why is she FaceTiming me?
Answering, I see her appear on the screen, but she’s looking down at me, like her phone
is propped up on something lower than her. Like her desk. Her hair drapes around her, and I can’t really see anything else other than the glow of the overhead light.
“What are you doing?” I ask, carrying the phone into the living room.
But she remains silent.
I sit down on the couch, leaning my elbows on my knees and watching her. A small smile plays on her lips, and she moves her head left and then right, and I can tell she’s toying with me. She stands up straight, and I lose sight of her face, but her beautiful body comes into view, and I see that she’s wearing the shell bikini.
My heart skips a beat, and I have to fight back a smile. Her breasts bulge outside of the little pink fabric, and the thin strings look so delicate on her tan skin. I want to ask her to turn around, but I’d rather just have her down here.
The screen jostles, and I see she’s repositioning the phone farther back, and when she comes into view again, I can see part of the desk, her body, and her face now. She leans into the desk, eyeing me with a flirty look, her arms pressing into her body and, coincidentally, her breasts, too.
I quirk a smile. “Yes, Jordan?”
“I’m not a kid,” she says, her smile suddenly disappearing.
A feeling of trepidation courses through me, and I knew this was too good to be true. She’s teasing me, and she’s not coming down now.
I sigh and lay back on the couch. “Then stop acting like one,” I reply.
She stares down, pinning me with her defiant eyes. “I’m not a kid,” she says again.
And I watch as she reaches one hand behind her neck and the other behind her back and pulls both strings, the pathetic little pieces of fabric falling off her body and to the floor.
I swallow a hard lump at the sight of her. I was going to do that, dammit.
Her hard nipples stand out at me, and the skin on my palms buzz with the memory of her in my hands. My stomach flips, and my cock is swelling with need already.
Please don’t do this to me.
But I can’t look away.
I can’t hear the music in her room, or maybe she’s hearing mine in the kitchen, but she starts swaying a little bit and rocking her hips, closing her eyes and running her hands up, down, and all over her body, face and hair. She looks like dessert.
Biting her bottom lip, she plays with me, caressing her tits and slipping her hands down her stomach and playing with the hem of her bottoms, threatening to pull them down.
She taunts me with her eyes and the promise of seeing something good. Like a stripper.
Realization hits, and I finally know what she’s doing.
I shake my head, my body on fire for her. “You can’t do it,” I tease.
She can’t take off her clothes and dance.
“You’re right,” she says, turning around and looking at me over her shoulder. “I can’t do it. I’m just a little girl, right? A silly, little girl.”
She faces me again, giving me a coy smile as she tilts the screen down, and I notice that she’s straddling the rounded corner of the desk. Still standing, she places one hand on the desk and the other one up on the wall, I think, with the corner of the wooden desk resting between her legs.
And I watch as she slowly starts humping it. Her hips roll and her stomach fans in and out as her ass moves and grinds over the tabletop, and I can hear the friction of the fabric over her pussy rubbing against the wood.
Oh, Jesus. My chest rises and falls faster as I watch her do the most beautiful thing I think I’ve ever seen. God, I love watching her. Her tits sway with the movement, bouncing a little when she starts going harder, and my mouth has gone so dry I can’t swallow.