Quick Study - By Gretchen Galway Page 0,23
Berkeley was at least fifteen minutes away, and they’d have to park, wait for a table, order, wait, eat, wait, look for the car, drive, wait, wait, and wait.
She reached over and stuck her hand down his pants. He swerved over the yellow line and jerked upright.
“Hey!” he cried. “Careful!”
“I’m hungry,” she said.
“I’ll drive faster.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I don't think you're listening. I'm hungry now.”
He glanced at her and grinned, but still wasn't taking her seriously. Gripping her exploring fingers tighter, he turned his attention back to the road. “Soon.”
Soon wasn't going to do. “Forget the pizza. Go to your place.”
“But—” he began, then saw the look on her face and finally lost the smile. He merged right.
“You know,” she said, “for a rich computer genius, you're kind of slow.”
“I know, I know,” he said, glancing over his shoulder to make his way off the freeway. “I am so sorry.”
“I might forgive you this time, but you really do need to learn your lesson.”
“I do. I really do.”
She felt her blood run hot through her body. Her hand was still trapped under his hand on his lap and she pulled it away after squeezing the bulge of his cock once, hard, through his khakis. “I'm not convinced you're sorry enough.”
Definitely not smiling now, he blinked at the road and seemed to be having trouble breathing. “You might have to punish me?”
“Oh, I might.” She crossed her arms over her chest, felt the underwire of her new push-up bra poke her in the armpit, and looked down at her breasts straining against the stretchy blouse she'd worn to please him. But why should she have to suffer? Tonight was his turn. She leaned forward to unclasp her bra.
“What are you—” A car honked at them as Paul swerved across the off-ramp.
“None of your business. Focus on the road until we get to your place.” Loose in the unclasped bra, her breasts sagged forward in the slippery cups under her shirt. She'd have to unbutton the front to take off the bra completely. So she did, wiggling forward to slide one elbow, then the other, through the straps until the silky nylon was a rumpled pink pile in her lap.
“Oh, Christ,” he whispered, watching her. “Thank you.”
“Eyes on the road.” She stroked the tip of one nipple to torment him. “Or you'll have more to answer for.”
“Yes, mistress,” he said, without mockery. She felt herself get hot between her thighs.
“Say that again.”
“Yes, mistress. Thank you. Am I pleasing you now?”
“For now,” she managed to say. “Just get us off this damn road to some place you can please me some more.”
He nodded, eyes hard and fixed ahead of them, somehow looking more threatening as her willing submissive than he had when he'd tied her to his lifting bench. All that male energy was hers to control now. The power was hers. When he dropped the goofy nice-guy bit, he was as bent as she was.
“When we get to your house,” she said, “I don't plan on doing all the work.”
“Whatever you say.”
“I might not even want to take off my clothes by myself.”
He cleared his throat. “I'm here to please.”
Yes, you are. “I might not even want to take your clothes off by myself. In fact, I don't feel like doing anything. It's been a long day. I'm very, very tired. All I want to do is crawl into bed.”
“I can carry you there,” he said, his voice low.
She sighed and stretched back in the car seat like a cat, her loose breasts peeking out from her unbuttoned blouse. The freeway was behind them now, and the car sped upwards into the oak-spotted hills on the quiet street she remembered, to the house she'd been dreaming about every night since her last visit. “If you please me, I just might let you.”
She glanced over at him just in time to see him close his eyes briefly and suppress a shudder.
“I'll do whatever you say,” he said.
“I want you to go down on me.”
He shot her a dark, hungry look and nodded.
She crossed her arms under her exposed breasts. “For as long as I want.”
“Pleasing you pleases me.” He turned abruptly onto his driveway and skidded into a stop next to the house. All his attention was on her now, eyes heavy-lidded and hot on hers, but he didn't move. They sat in the parked car under the porte cochere, silent except for the sounds of rapid, shallow breathing.
“Waiting for something?” she