“Yet you’re wet.” I study her face, searching for the answers. “So what does that mean?”
She looks at me, her mouth slightly agape. She shakes her head. “You’re frustrating.”
“Unbutton your blouse.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Yes.”
She stares at me.
I stare back.
Several moments tick by as the car fills with tension.
I glance pointedly at her buttons before moving down her body. “I can make you come right here in the truck instead of sending you off unsatisfied.”
“I can go to bed and get all the satisfaction I want.” She presses back into the corner of the cab, as far away from me as she can get without escape. “You’re hardly necessary.”
She’s trying to trap me, but I’m having none of it. “If you go back to your room, you’ll be tossing and turning, with no orgasms at all.”
“You have no control over that.”
Another test. I shrug. “You’ll lie in bed, and maybe you’ll give it a go, but you won’t get anywhere because you’ll start overthinking it—contemplating whether it gives me more power if you come or don’t come, getting angry and hot that I’ve made it complicated for you.”
“You don’t know anything.” She’s squeezing her thighs, letting me know she likes this more than she’s letting on, that I’m right.
I flicker my gaze dismissively over her body. “You want me to come over there and rip your blouse off, but think about it…” I pause, waiting for her to lean into what I’m about to say, and she doesn’t disappoint. “Isn’t it hotter this way? Being unable to help yourself, your fingers shaking as you undo one button after another, even though your head is screamingno.”
“No.” The word is a small gasp.
I shift closer to her. “Think about it—really think. Are you craving my loss of control? Or your own?”
She bites her lip.
I meet her gaze, which is now slightly aghast and glassy. “I can make you lose control, if you’ll let me.”
A small shake of her head.
“Unbutton.”
Her fingers come up to play at the top button. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”
I jut my chin toward the big house. “You’re free to go anytime. But I think you’ll like my tongue on your clit more than tossing and turning in a cold, empty bed.”
Her finger circles the button between her breasts, indecision flickering across her features in the moonlight.
“Try it and see what happens.” I smirk again. “I can’t promise you’ll like it, but I can assure you you’ll come hard enough that I’ll have to cover your mouth to stifle your screams.”
Cat
My head is a roar of conflicting thoughts—no, yes, no, yes, yes, yes—playing a symphony in my head.
It’s dangerous.
Reckless.
Wild.