She blows out a breath. “Chance, I…” She shifts, and I pull my fingers out of her sweet wet sex and out of her shorts. Her eyes go to my fingers, glistening wet with her essence. “Oh god, gross. I wonder if there’s a napkin in here.” She moves to twist off me, reaching for the glove box.
I grab her wrist with my other hand, pull her back down to me. “Why’s it gross, Annika?”
She wrinkles her nose at me. “My…my…stuffis all over your fingers. It’s gross.”
I hold her eyes as I put my two middle fingers into my mouth and slowly pull them out, licking them clean. “Mama, ain’t a damn thing about you is gross to me. It’s fuckin’ delicious, is what it is. Tastes like fuckin’ honey.”
Her cheeks go pink, her lower lip clamped in her teeth. “Chance, Jesus.” She’s mortified. But also turned on.
I put my fingers to my nose and inhale. “Annika, you gotta understand me, baby girl. What I just gave you, that cute little orgasm you just had? Tip of the fuckin’ iceberg. A cute little baby O, compared to what I’m gonna do to you the second I get you to a bed.”
“Cute?” She grabs my hand and tries to pull it away from my face, using both hands, yanking. “Stop sniffing your fingers. And it wasn’t cuteorlittle. That was…” She shakes her head and keeps hold of my wrist with both hands as I press my palm to her cheek, and she nuzzles into my hand. “That was…I’ve never come like that in my life.”
I grin at her, pleased with myself. “You ever been eaten out till you can’t come anymore, Annika? Ever come so many times you gotta beg your man to stop?”
She shakes her head, adorably embarrassed, burying her face in my neck again, arms slinging around my shoulders, fingers in my hair. “No. Not even close. I’ve honestly always thought multiple orgasms were, like, a myth, or…or made up for movies or trashy romance novels.”
I laugh. “You’ve never come more than once at a time?”
She shakes her head against my throat. “Nope.”
“I can guarantee you they’re very real, and I guarantee you, I’ll show you exactly how real they are.”
She rolls her hips, grinding on my still-hard but bent painfully sideways cock. “What about you?”
“Don’t worry about me.”
She pulls back. “But…It’s your turn. I can feel you…you’re hard as a rock. Don’t you want to…” she trails off, shrugs uncomfortably.
“You’re shy about this shit, aren’t you?” I say.
She shrugs, nuzzling my throat, a sweet, adorable gesture that has my heart clenching in my chest, swelling. “I guess, a little?” She looks away. “I…I had a few boyfriends here and there in high school, and I’m obviously not a virgin or even close, but my focus was always volleyball. And then things sorta went…you know. South. Terribly, terribly south. So I guess what I’m saying is—”
“You’re not very experienced.”
“No.” She shakes her head. I can feel her embarrassment, her blush. “Not very. At all.”
“Wanna talk about it more?”
She shrugs. “And say what?”
“Talk about experiences. What you liked, what you didn’t. How many, when, whatever. I’ll tell you anything you wanna know.”
She pulls back and holds my eyes. “You really don’t want me to return the favor?”
I shake my head. “Nope, not right now.”
“Why not?”
“Because this was about you. I ain’t worried about me. I’ll get mine.” That’s not entirely true. I have my own sexual hang-ups and I want to deal with them later on and elsewhere…not in a car on the side of the highway.
“But you’re worried about me.”
“Semantics, baby. Point is, this was about you. Making you feel good. Showing you that I can make you feel good. That it’s gonna be good with me. I can take care of you.” I cup her chin in my finger and thumb. “Igotyou, Annika. You’re safe with me. I can handle you.”
She spends a very long moment staring into my eyes, searching me. “I’m scared out of my fucking mind, Chance, but…I’m going to take a risk and trust you. I’m going to try to trust you. Just…” She squeezes her eyes shut, and tears leak out, one from each eye. “Don’t let me down, please.Please. Don’t fuck with me, Chance. I’m just starting to get my feet under me. I’m just starting to feel like…like I can have a real life again. So please, please, fuck,please, don’t fuck me over. Okay?”
9Forgiving Yourself Is The Hardest Part
