Page 40 of Wasted Lust

I could resist. He’s not entirely trustworthy. And he’s a stalker. That’s pretty creepy. I wonder how deep that obsession goes. I wonder if it’s safe to even be in this car with him.

But his embrace feels too good to make him stop.

My dress was not made for being cradled in a man’s arms. Or maybe it was? Because the slits up each side bare my thighs, and the heat of his hand on my skin stirs up the longing I’ve been pushing away for years, making me shut my eyes.

His fingers stroke me gently, back and forth across the top of my thigh. It feels so damn good, I lose myself in the pleasure. I lean into him and his hand drops down between my thighs, making me gasp.

“Sorry,” he says, removing the offending hand.

I reach out and place his hand back where it was. “Don’t stop touching me. Please. It feels good. I don’t get a lot of intimate interaction anymore.”

My eyes are still closed when I say this to him, but the ensuing silence and the tenseness of his hand on my skin—his hesitant touch—forces me to open them. It forces me to seek him out.

And I guess he wins, doesn’t he? He’s got me right where he needs me. Wanting more as I gaze up into his eyes.

“Pull your dress up, Sasha.”

I wasn’t expecting that command. But it absolutely is a command. He’ll give me what I’m asking for, but he won’t give it away for free.

“Do it,” he says. “You’ve been pushing me away all day. You’ve complained about my kisses and threatened to break my fingers. And now you’re here in my lap. Vulnerable and needy. So if this is what you really want, you need to participate. I won’t force you to succumb. I won’t take advantage of your longing for Nick, or your very bad day, or the panic that seems overwhelming. If you want me, show me.”

So I do. I do it without thinking or rationalizing. I just want it. My hand reaches for the silky fabric of my dress all bunched between my legs, and I pull it up. Inch by inch, until the coolness of the air sweeps across my lace panties.

He licks his lips as he watches.

The heat I feel is immediate.

“What should I do now?” I ask.

His hand slides up my inner thigh and the wetness gathers in a pool between my legs. “Open your legs.”

I swallow hard as the request sinks in. I want to obey. So badly. I want him to fix everything that is wrong with this day, erasing the shame of my failure at school and the haunting regrets I have from the past by fucking me in this car.

“I’m scared.”

“We can stop if you want.”

“No,” I whisper as my thighs inch open. More cool air sweeps in, passing over the wet spot of my panties. “I’m not scared of you. I’m scared of giving in.”

“Then don’t give in. I’m not in a hurry. I mean”—and the familiar grin is back, along with the light in his eye—”since I found you at the airport last summer, I’ve been daydreaming about what it would be like to make you mine. But I don’t want to win you by default.”

“Can’t this be casual?”

“Casual. Hmmm.” He pauses for a moment to think about it. “This time, I guess. It can be. I want you too bad to say no. You’ve got me where you need me, don’t you?”

I let out a small breath of air. “I was just thinking that exact same thought about you.”

“So maybe we’re both right where we need to be?”

“I want to be loved and I know this isn’t love. You’re here, you’re handsome and polite. You know more about me than anyone outside my small circle of family and friends. And I’m dying, Jax. I’m dying of loneliness. I’m drowning in a sea of shattered dreams and wasted lust.”

He leans down and kisses me on the lips. It’s soft and tender. No tongue. Nothing harsh about it. It’s not a request or a command. It’s just… a kiss.

I kiss him back, but he withdraws. “Open your legs wider, Sasha.”

It’s my move. If I do as he asks, I’m giving him permission to break through the walls I’ve set up. But I want it so bad, there’s no chance of me saying no.

My legs inch open again. One foot drops to the floor of the car and my thigh rests on the leather bench seat. The other leg lifts higher, bending at the knee and pressing into his chest. His hand is warm as he slips it under my leg and strokes my inner thigh.