His smile only widens. That same I really fucking like you smile. "Not here."
"Why not here?"
"'Cause I want to fuck you."
"Oh. Okay."
"Okay?"
"Less talking. More sex."
He lets out that same honest chuckle. "This is why I need my own place."
I nod. Yes. His own place to fuck me. The other details are far away.
"I have an idea," he says. "If you're game."
"You're going to fuck me?"
Another chuckle. "Yeah."
"It's not funny."
"Just… I really fucking like you." He leans down to press his lips to mine. It's soft, slow, intense. I love you as much as it's I need you. "Won't have a bed. But, yeah, I'll fuck you so hard you see stars."
"Then I'm game."
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Oliver
Luna's ex-boyfriend is a fucking idiot.
Too much? Too difficult? Too demanding?
Uh-uh.
I thought I appreciated her bossy, take no shit, I will tell you what I want and you will give it to me and if I don't like it, I'll let you know nature before.
But now?
As much as I need to be inside her—and I do—I want to torture her forever.
She huffs as she clicks her seat belt. Squeezes her knees together. Plays with the hem of her dress.
Her eyes flare with victory when she catches me watching.
She pulls the dress a half-inch up her thighs.
Damn, those long, tan legs. I need them wrapped around my hips. Or pressed against my cheeks.
I don't fucking care. As long as I make her come again.
She crosses her legs as I start the car. For a second, she closes herself. Fades into the bliss of her favorite album.
Then she turns to me with an expression of pure anticipation. "How long will this take?"
"We're pretty far in Malibu."
"That was your idea."
"I know."
She lets out a huff that means oh my god, why are you so difficult. "What's it like, being the most evil person in the world?"
"A lot of fun."
"You would say that."
My smile widens. "I would."
"How are you enjoying this so much?" Her eyes flit to my crotch.
I try to keep my gaze on the road, but it's really fucking hard.
"You're still…" She bites her lip. "Maybe it is you."
"Maybe what is me?"
"The dick lipstick."
"What?" I can't help but laugh.
"I just… I'm actually considering unzipping your slacks."
My cock whines. Fuck, the thought of Luna's hand around me—
Or her soft red lips—
I'm going to crash the fucking car. And it's just the thought. "Angel, you're gonna kill me."
"Good. You deserve it."
"And yourself. I'll drive into the fucking ocean if you do that."
She makes a hmm noise.
"You're considering it?"
"Well, look at it." She motions to my crotch. "It's just…"
"You shouldn't give him attention. It will only prolong the—"
"Him?" she asks.
I nod.
"You refer to your dick in third person?"
"He and I don't always agree."
"No?"
"Yeah. But we'd both like to make it to our next destination alive to fuck you properly."
"I don't know," she says. "Seems like he'd like to do that now."
I can't help but chuckle. "Do it for me then."
"You can't maintain that until we're… where are we going?"
"A surprise," I say.
"It's at least twenty minutes back to civilization," she says. "Unless you have a secret place in Malibu."
"From my secret camboy career."
She falls into her seat as she laughs. "You know men are the main audience for those things."
"And?"
"You'll fuck yourself for other guys?"
"It's for me."
She laughs yeah, okay.
"My personal show. Anyone can watch."
"If they pay the fee?"
"Of course."
"Must be a pretty hefty fee," she says. "If it affords you a pad in Malibu."
"That's just one of my fans. She lets me broadcast from her place if she gets front row tickets."
"She does?"
I nod of course.
"She must be pretty rich?"
"Oh yeah. And famous."
Luna laughs uh-huh. "Would you really? If someone offered that?"
"If some rich lady said I could live in her Malibu mansion in exchange for live shows?"
She nods.
"I need details. How rich? How many shows? How hot is she?"
"She needs to be hot?"
"Those are factors to consider."
She shakes her head how ridiculous. "She's smokin'. But older. And the place is enormous. Reality TV mansion enormous. But you're at her beck and call. You whip it out whenever she asks. As often as she asks."
"Not that different than the last two months."
"Oh?" Her eyes light up.
Fuck, she's adorable. And sexy. I want to tease her as much as I want to fuck her.
I want to talk to her as much as I want to fuck her.
About shit that matters—her parents, my sobriety, the state of the goddamn world. And shit that doesn't.
I try to keep my eyes on the road. This is a windy stretch of Pacific Coast Highway. And there's no way I'm willing to die before I fuck her. I have to pay some attention if I want to avoid driving into the ocean.
"Ollie." Her voice drops to a why aren't you fucking me whine. "You were saying?"
"You're fucking adorable."
"Uh-uh. Less talk about me. More talk about—"
"My cock?"
She laughs. "Basically."
"You do want to live?"
"Do I have to choose between living and fucking you?"
"How are you going to fuck me if you're dead?"
She makes that hmmm noise. "True." Her eyes pass over me. Stop on my crotch. "It's receding."
I chuckle. "Need the blood in my brain."
"Probably." She reaches over the center console. Places her hand on my thigh.
"I thought I was the addict."
"Are you asking me to move it?"
"No."
"Good." She smiles as she runs her hand down my thigh.
Fuck. This is going to kill me.
"Oh."
"Maybe you should—"
"Maybe." She pulls her hand back anyway. "I guess I see why you're evil. It's fun."
It is.
"You were saying. About your cock?"
I chuckle. "I was saying something?"
"About your hypothetical mistress. Giving you a nice pad in exchange for constant masturbation."