Suddenly, she turns around and slaps my fingers. “My pussy isn’t on a platter, Josh,” she says with a cheeky grin.
I lay my head back and groan. “Seriously?”
My dick is hard and I’m not embarrassed by it. Not at all. I adjust the fit of my jeans and she watches my hand. “That’s all it takes, really?” She grins at me. “Just my ass?” She turns it toward me again.
I groan. “You’re killing me.”
She squeals when I grab her hips and pull her directly in front of me. Her ass is in my face, and I lift the edge of her towel so that I can see the bubble at the bottom of her butt. I lean forward and nibble it gently. She cries out and her butt tenses, but she doesn’t jerk away. I bite it, not hard enough to leave teeth marks behind, but I do leave a little red spot. I suck on it to ease the sting.
“Josh,” she says, when I let her move away a little.
“What?” I look up at her, sure my eyes are full of wonder and all the things I don’t really want her to see.
She leans down. “You just got me really wet,” she says. Then she walks out of the bathroom, leaving me stewing in my own lust.
I don’t know much about what happened to her when she was younger, but I know something did, and I know that sex with her isn’t going to be as easy as sex with someone else might be, but I’m willing to win my way in there. Totally willing.
Dinner.
Flowers.
Dessert.
A hotel room with just one bed.
Me and her.
“I need to stop by the tattoo shop after we pick up the rental car,” I tell her when I go into the bedroom.
“Why?” she asks. She’s dressed, and now she’s brushing out her long dark hair.
“I need to pick up my paycheck,” I tell her. Then I need to go to the drugstore. I need condoms. Just in case.
“Anywhere else?”
“Drugstore.”
“Why the drugstore?”
I shrug. “No reason.”
She grins. “You think you’re going to get lucky.”
I smile back. “I certainly hope so.” I force my face to sober. “You and me, Star…we’re going to happen. It’s just a matter of finding the right time.”
“Okay,” she whispers. Then she bends over to put her shoes on. “You’ll have to tell me how it all works, with your…” Her hand waves in front of her like she’s swatting a fly. “With your stuff.”
Now that’s funny. “You already proved my stuff works just fine.”
“Yeah, but positions and stuff. You’ll have to tell me about all that, because I don’t know how it would work.”
“Neither do I,” I admit.
“Oh,” she says. “I guess we can figure it out together.” She smiles at me, her cheeks turning red.
Count on it, Star. Count on it.
***
We go and pick up the rental car, and it takes me a minute to figure out how to drive it. I had ordered a car outfitted for paraplegics so I can hit the brake and gas using my hands rather than having to drive with my feet.
“Do you want me to drive?” Star asks.
I shake my head. “Nope.”
“Are you sure? That looks really difficult.”
“It’s not.”
Her brow furrows. “You know how to use those things?”
“They taught me in rehab after the accident. It’s not as hard as it looks, actually.”
The rental car company had already attached the necessary equipment and tightened it on. I let the employee take my chair and put it in the backseat, and I get myself straight in the driver’s seat.
“Seriously, you can drive?” she asks.
I start to accelerate slowly. “Yep.” I manage the poles using my right hand, and drive with my left. I learned to drive on a stick shift when I first started driving, so it comes natural for me.
“That is so cool.” Her voice is soft and wistful.
I look over at her. “So are you.”
I pull over really quickly onto the shoulder and lean toward her face. She looks surprised for a minute, but she recovers. I press my lips to hers and she kisses me back. Her lips are warm and soft, but firm, and she tastes like breath mints. I sit back. “Cinnamon?” I ask.
She nods. Her cheeks are red and she suddenly doesn’t know what to do with her hands. I want to hold hers in mine, twining our fingers together like they’re laced, but I can’t do that and drive, so I settle for just having her close to me.
“I really like you, Josh,” she says quietly. She takes a deep breath like she’s fortifying herself.
“I really like you too, Star.”
“No, I mean it. I really like you. Lots.” She lays the back of her head against the headrest and tilts so that her face is barely turned toward me. “I don’t think I’ve ever liked anyone the way that I like you.”
My heart skips. “What do you mean?”
“I’m afraid,” she whispers.
“Of me?”
“No.” She blows out a breath. “I’m more afraid of me.”
“Keep going,” I coax.
“What if I can’t be what you need?” She pulls her lips in and nibbles on them.
“What do you think I need?”
“I think you need someone normal,” she blurts out. Then she looks like she regrets it.
I burst out in a laugh. “Sorry.” I try to cover it up. But I can’t. I chuckle again.