“Okay, we don’t care about exes. That’s good. Can’t you just show your hot boyfriend off to your besties?”
“He doesn’t have social media,” I lie lazily, ignoring that boyfriend label that we haven’t discussed.
“What kind of a loser doesn’t have social media in this day and age?”
I pin my arms across my chest and scowl at Marco’s ridiculous, toothy grin as Archie hides behind a couch cushion. “Me.” The buzzer by the door rings and I race over to it, thinking it might be Adam. “Hello?”
“I’ve, uh…” The unknown voice on the other side clears his throat. “Got a couple of…packages…for Rosie Wells?”
“Oh. Okay. I’ll be down in a minute.” I scoop my bag up and frown at Archie. “That’s weird, I don’t remember ordering anything.”
“Mhmm,” he hums, folding his lips into his mouth. “So weird.”
“I’ll grab the packages and wait out front for Adam. See you later.”
“Byyye,” Archie calls over his shoulder.
“Nice choice on the dress,” Marco adds. “Easy access.”
Easy access. Psssh. Please. It’s not like I’m hoping to feel Adam’s hands on my legs during the movie tonight, below the stars at the drive-in. I’m absolutely not dreaming of his fingers sliding higher, dipping below the hem of my dress in the dark. And I did not wear my prettiest pair of pink silk panties in hopes that he might touch them, or better yet, see them.
Absolutely not.
Okay, fine, but it’s not my fault. We’ve been spending so much time together, with Connor and without, and I’ve thoroughly enjoyed every single time that man has put his tongue in my mouth over the last week. I’m starting to crave…I don’t know exactly, but more. A little bit more. Sue me for hoping I might get it tonight.
The elevator pops open, revealing the very man I can’t stop thinking about, his head down as he examines the plethora of brightly colored packages swept up in his arms.
“Adam. Hey. I was just coming down to get those. You didn’t have to…” My words trail as his face slowly lifts, mouth hanging open, cheeks pink. At the same time I note the look in his eyes—intrigued, and yet, slightly scared—I note the faint buzzing sound coming from one of the packages.
Adam takes a step toward me, and I take one back, hand at my throat in case I need to squeeze it to stop from, oh, I don’t know, throwing up?
“What’s that?” I whisper, but I already know.
Adam takes another careful step toward me, then another, until I’m plastered against the wall. “Uh, the delivery guy…he was…and I was coming in to get you…and so I thought…” He opens his mouth, then pauses, brows pulled down like he’s lost for words. “And then I…and then this one…” He holds up the buzzing package, at least eight inches in length, hot pink with neon yellow letters that read FOR HER PLEASURE all over it. Adam swallows, and blood thunders in my ears. “It started…vibrating.”
“I didn’t buy those,” I blurt out. “I-I-I…I didn’t.” Adam’s mouth quirks, a tiny tug on one side, like he either doesn’t believe me or suddenly finds this horrific situation…endearing . And I don’t know why—I should be squeezing my throat, stopping it—but I go for it: word vomit. “Archie told me to and I said no but he-he-he never listens to me and I haven’t had an orgasm in a long time and never with another person.” My hands fly to my mouth, slapping over my gasp, eyes wide. “Oh my God. I can’t believe I just said that.”
I clear my throat, scooping the several packages out of Adam’s arms and into my own. “Excuse me for a moment.”
It starts a casual stroll back down the hall but turns into an angry, fast stomp.
“Figured you’d be back,” Archie mumbles when I burst through the door.
“You motherfucker,” I grit out, dropping the bundle on our kitchen table. Seven. There are seven. Fucking. Packages. “I hate you.”
“Mhmm. Tell me again after you give those a whirl.” He cocks his head at the buzzing sound. “You already turn one on?”
“No, Archie, I did not.” I pick up the vibrating package, trying to ignore how long this thing is. “Adam picked these up for me in the lobby, and this one started buzzing in his hands.”
He and Marco stare at each other for five silent seconds. Then they explode with laughter.
I let the pink package fly before I turn around, throwing my middle finger up over my shoulder when a satisfying thwack sounds as the package makes contact. “Fuck you very much.”
My silk panties have been wasted.
Okay, not a total waste. I feel sexy wearing them, and every time Adam’s hands grazed slowly up my thigh, the anticipation alone was worth it. It’s not as if I actually expected him to get touchy during a movie, with people around, even though it was dark and we were parked all the way at the back, so if he’d really wanted to, he could have . Just saying.
Now it’s midnight, we’re driving along a back road in the middle of nowhere, and the last place I want to go is home.
I can’t tear my gaze off Adam, one hand on the steering wheel, legs spread wide, his ebony curls ruffling in the breeze from the open window. He’s so relaxed, so at home, so freaking beautiful , and he’s here with me.
Adam looks over at me, the same way he’s been doing every thirty seconds, cobalt blue eyes alight. A gentle smile starts in the corners of his mouth before exploding into a cheek-splitting grin when he catches me staring. He reaches over, fingers spreading over my thigh, sliding achingly slowly up, up, up, until he reaches the hem of my dress and squeezes.
“Whatcha thinking about, pretty girl?”
“I’m not ready to go home.”
His eyes drop to my lips, skim down my arms, coast the length of my bare legs before coming back up to mine. “No?”
I shake my head.
“Not tired?”
“Not yet,” I breathe out.
“Mmm…”
My eyes hook on his middle finger, following its path as the tip drags slowly along my thigh, around my knee, coming back up the inside. All of the air is sucked out of the car, and my heart pounds a relentless beat in my chest before dropping between my legs.
“Hmm.” He steals his touch back, gripping the steering wheel with both hands. Leaning forward, he stares out the windshield, brows furrowed.
“What?”
He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and hums. “Think we’re lost.”
“Lost?” I look around at the black night. In the light of the moon, all I can see are trees and never-ending fields. “Here?”
“Mhmm. Don’t know how that happened.” He pulls the truck over and cuts the ignition, leaving only the radio running. He fiddles with his phone before soft, slow music pours from the speakers, drenching the summer night air. “Might as well make the best of it,” he says with a sneaky smirk before he hops out.
I’m not sure what he means, but I watch with rapt attention as he rounds the hood, opens my door, holds his hand out to me.