She shrugged, slipping her feet into the borrowed flip-flops. “Because you’ll make it all…erotic, and then we’ll never leave, and I need food. And I really would like some different clothes. Not that I’m not grateful to Dru, but…I don’t feel like myself in this.”
“Maybe that’s not a bad thing,” I suggested as I dressed, knowing I had to tread carefully, here. “Maybe…maybe it’s time you explore different ways to feel like yourself.”
She gazed at me steadily. “You may be right. But at the very least, I need underwear,” she said, reaching for the door, “I feel so strange not wearing any.”
I hissed. “Dammit, Eva, you can’t say shit like that to me.”
She paused, frowning, genuinely puzzled. “Why not? What did I say?”
“You, not wearin’ any panties? Gets my head running down dirty paths, babe.” I sidled up to her, her back pressed against the door, one hand behind her back on the doorknob. Snuck my fingers inside the elastic of the sweatpants. “Like how I could just…”
I held her gaze as I slid my fingers down, down, feeling the soft thatch of her trimmed but not sculpted or shaved pubic hair—which I found hot as fuck, for reasons I wasn’t sure of.
“Just what, Baxter?” she prompted, staring back at me intently, almost daring me.
“Just slide my fingers inside you, whenever I wanted, and feel this…this tight, hot, wet little pussy of yours.”
She gasped as I suited actions to words, sinking my middle finger inside her tight-as-a-drum channel. “Whenever you wanted, huh?”
“Whenever, wherever.” Grinned hungrily at her. “I could sit beside you while we’re eating, and I could just…do…this.” I fingered her clit, got her writhing. “Drive you crazy. Knowing you’re not wearin’ any damn panties makes my horny-ass brain go haywire.”
She thunked her head against the door and whined in her throat, pressing herself against my touch. “Baxter, god, how can you get me like this so fast?”
“Because you’re eager and you’re horny. You want it.” I leaned in close as I touched her, knowing it would take only a moment or two more. I wanted to watch and smell and feel her come apart again—needing it like I needed to breathe, actually. “You like it when I touch your pussy. You want it so bad, don’t you?”
She closed her eyes and writhed her hips. “Mmmm-hmmm.”
“Say it, Eva. Let me hear you say you want me to touch your pussy until you come.”
“This again?” she asked, opening her eyes to glare defiantly at me. “Fine. I want it, Baxter. I want to feel you touch my…my pussy. I want you to make me come.”
God, the dirty words on her tongue, dropping from her lips…they seemed so much dirtier, so much more erotic. I talked this way all the time, but with Eva, it felt…new, and hotter than it had ever been.
And then, within seconds, she was gasping against my neck, her breath hot, and then her teeth sank into the skin on the side of my neck and she was clinging to my shoulders, riding my finger for dear life, trying desperately to stifle her screams and moans of ecstasy.
“Damn, baby, you comefast,” I murmured.
“Is that…bad?” she asked, gasping.
“Fuck no,” I said. “It’s good. It means you like it. You like being touched. You’re ready to go, and it don’t take much to get you there.” I eyed her as I withdrew my touch. “You ever come more than once in a row?”
She eyed me in incredulity. “That’s actually a thing? I thought it was just a myth.”
I shook my head, choosing my words with care, this time around. “It’s real. You come so fast, I’m guessing you could have multiple O’s pretty easily.”
“God, that would be…” She shuddered, eyes closing, shoulders lifting in a shiver. “That would be so intense, I’m not sure how I’d be able to handle it.”
I opened the door, leaning close to whisper in her ear. “That could be a little experiment between us, then—to see how many times I can make you come.”
She just blinked up at me. “I think I would enjoy being the subject of that experiment, Baxter.”
“Yes, Eva, I think you will.”
Shopping was fuckin’ fun, actually. She would try on outfits and strut out wearing them, to get my approval. I approved everything, though, which only irritated her, discarding this shirt or that skirt as not fitting right or not the best pattern, or…so many different reasons. Yet somehow, as we left each store, she ended up with half the shit they had on the racks, despite discarding so many pieces. And we went to a dozen stores, all the clothing shops in Ketchikan. We’d climb into the Silverado my brothers and I shared, and we’d listen to country, a compromise between her taste for pop and my taste for heavy metal. Actually, I liked country, but I’d never admit it to anyone. We listened to music and the windows were down, and it was a gloriously gorgeous day, the sun shining brightly in a cloudless blue sky. The back seat of the truck was full of bags already, and she said she had a few items left she wanted to get. She had her phone out and a GPS app open, Googling which stores she wanted to go to and directing me to them. Now, she clearly had selected a store in mind, and was figuring out the directions to it.
When we got there, I quirked an eyebrow at her. “Lingerie, huh?”
She shrugged. “I need underwear.” A defiant stare met my gaze, when she looked at me. “And Hanes aren’t really my thing. So yes, lingerie.”
