Page 48 of Hate It with You

I hate the effect Alex has on me. Yet I can’t get enough of it.

Cold hits my center as Alex pulls his hand away, slipping out of me enough to make me feel hollow before he lands a swift, harsh slap to my core that has me jolting with pleasure in my seat.

“Liar,” Alex says, a smirk spreading across his face.

He slides two fingers inside me again, and I let out a sigh as the hollow feeling passes. His touch brings me a level of comfort I don’t want to acknowledge at this moment.

“Alex, please,” I shamelessly beg after he continues to lazily pump his fingers in and out of me as though we have all the time in the world.

“Admit you had fun,” he says, pulling his fingers from me again. This time landing a slap straight to my clit. My impending orgasm continues to build at the base of my spine, my breath now so erratic that I can barely form words.

“It was fine,” I say, giving in to him. It was more than fine. I had a fucking blast. Everything he said about losing himself on the road, not thinking about all the noise that’s happening in life. Everything falling to silence.

I felt every second of it. When we were on that track, it was only him and me. Nothing else. It was exhilarating. I loved every second.

“C’mon, Beth, it was more than that, and you know it,” he says, curling his fingers inside me, coaxing me closer to my orgasm. It still isn’t enough.

He continues his movements, as he brings me short of falling over the edge. He does it over and over and over again until I can’t take it anymore.

“Fine, I loved every goddamn second of it. Now, Alex, please, I’m begging you. I—” His movements cut me off, unable to finish my words as he gives me exactly what I need.

His thumb finds its home on my clit as he falls into an earth-shattering rhythm with his fingers that are buried deep inside me. As we approach a turn, my heart rate spikes given the speed at which we are still traveling.

He’ll have to pull his hand from me soon to shift the car, but I’m so close, I’m chasing my orgasm in a race before he has to downshift.

I’m almost there when we hit the beginning of the turn, the road beating me to it. Though Alex’s next move takes my breath away.

In one swift motion, without missing a beat, he keeps his hand on my core as his left hand moves from the steering wheel to the shifter, downshifting the car one-handed as we take the turn.

The motion is so effortless, so smooth, so fucking hot that the sight of it sends me spiraling over the edge.

My orgasm hits me harder than I’m ready for as my back arches off the seat, my chest straining against the four-point harness, the tightness of it over my nipples adding to the sensation in my core.

Alex’s name slips from my lips as he says, “That’s it. I got you, baby.” He brings me down from my orgasm in a way that’s so calming and gentle, tears spring to my eyes again.

When I’m finally done riding the aftershocks, Alex pulls his hand from me, grabbing a few napkins from the glove box to clean up the seat beneath me before he helps me reposition my skirt back over my hips.

His hand rests on the shifter as we cruise at a lower speed the rest of the way back, the evergreen trees trailing behind us.

I don’t think twice about it when I place my hand on his forearm, letting it rest there the remainder of the drive.

“I knew you loved it.” His words prompt both of us to burst into laughter, a feeling I never knew I had taken for granted until today.

We ride the rest of the way in comfortable silence as I bask in the small moment of peace with Alex in his Mustang.

20

BETH

As I’m cleaning up my bookstore for the day, the parking lot painted in a soft orange glow, I take another look at one of the cameras in the far corner of the shop. My shoulders relax, the thought of someone watching my back bringing me peace I never thought I’d find. Although that might have more to do with the person behind the camera than with the camera itself.

It’s been a few days since our racetrack visit, and Alex still plagues my mind. With so few customers coming in and out of my bookstore each day, there seems to be plenty of time for my mind to drift back to Alex.

His scent lingers in the back hallway in the mornings, and I find myself taking a deep inhale before entering my back room at the start of each day. When I clean the front windows, or work on the table displays, my eyes drift to his Mustang, parked outside, remembering how his hand gripped my thigh. How at peace I felt being with him even when traveling at dangerously high speeds.

The only time I’m not thinking about Alex is when I think back to the notes being left for me. The reminders of my childhood keep me up at night as I await his next move. He isn’t going to stop at the notes. That I know for sure.

Taking a deep breath, I refocus on the books in front of me on one of the tables near the front door. I’m moving the hardbacks around and refreshing some of the stock when a jingle sounds from the front door. There are ten minutes left until I close up for the night, but I’m excited about the prospect of a new customer walking through the door.