Page 99 of The Fed Sex Man

“Soaked.”

“I guess I’ll always know how to get you wet,” I said.

She laughed. “You get me wet when you look at me.”

“What?” I looked her up and down. “When I look at you?”

“Look at me. Kiss me. Touch my shoulder. Kiss my neck. Rake your fingers through your hair. Wet, Wet, Wet, Wet, and wet.”

“Really?”

She raised her right hand. “I swear. Scout’s Honor, or whatever.”

I’d felt like a weak-minded idiot since Jo and I met, because merely looking at her caused my dick to go stiff. Consequently, I only looked at her for short periods of time, and never took time to truly appreciate her beauty.

At least not in public.

If she suffered the same level of arousal I did, it was no wonder we ended up fucking every time we saw one other.

“I get stiff by just looking at you,” I admitted.

“I know.”

“What do you mean, you know?”

“I can see it,” she said. “You’re hard all the time. I can see the outline of it in the leg of your shorts. Even when you wear jeans.”

“I’ve always wondered if people notice.”

“Oh. They notice.” She laughed. “Believe me.”

A state trooper parked at the side of the road caught my attention.

“Cop!” Jo shouted. “Cop! Cop! Cop!”

“Thanks. I saw him.” I glanced at the speedometer. Our speed was 72 miles an hour, only two miles an hour above the speed limit. “We’re fine.”

“How fast are you going?” she asked.

“Seventy-two.”

“Thank God,” she said.

As we rolled past the trooper, he pulled out into traffic. Ten seconds later, his lights were flashing, and his sirens were wailing.

I changed lanes.

He changed lanes.

I pulled onto the shoulder on the right side of the highway.

He did the same.

“I won’t say a word,” Jo said. “Don’t worry.”

I watched in the rearview mirror as the officer spoke in the hand-held receiver of his radio. My muscles tensed. He had no reason to pull me over, other than his desire to be a prick. As the twenty-something trooper sauntered toward my car, my blood began to boil.

He stepped alongside my door.