Page 39 of Mountains Divide Us

“Yeah, whatever. You knew what I meant.”

We lurched forward and stopped several more times, Samantha cursing under her breath the whole time, until finally, she stomped on the brake so hard, I nearly hit the windshield.

“Damn, girl! Why you stoppin’? We’ve barely gone twenty feet.”

“I’m not a girl!” she shrieked. “And I know, okay! I’m not good at this. I don’t want to do it anymore.” But like a teenage girl, she lifted her hands into the air and pulled her legs up under the steering wheel without putting the truck in park, and we rolled back a foot or so. We weren’t in danger of hitting anything in the flat parking lot in the snow, but I was starting to doubt she wouldn’t drive my truck through the school, if she ever got it going.

Gathering my composure and trying not to lose my shit on her, I said calmly, “Samantha, put your damn foot on the gas pedal and your hands back on the wheel and drive.”

“No,” she taunted. “Why? I don’t need to know how to drive. Walking’s fine.”

“What’s this about? You really don’t wanna learn, or is it somethin’ else?”

Carefully, she put the truck in park, and she sighed and looked out her window. “I’m… embarrassed, okay? I should know how to drive by now. I’m thirty freaking years old. Like, as we speak, I’m turning thirty.” She shook her head. “And the last person who tried to teach me yelled at me, too, and when I was terrible at it, he made fun of me, and I’ve just never tried again.”

“Who?” I’d rip his balls off.

She waved a hand in the air. “Some jerk I used to date before I moved here.”

I didn’t want to think about anyone else touching her or yelling at her, and I realized I needed to adjust tactics. “Look at me, please?”

When she did, I said, “I’m sorry for scoldin’ you. I will not poke fun at you, and once you feel confident enough, you can drive me to that asshole’s house, and I’ll disembowel him for you. Deal?”

Looking back out the windshield, she whispered, “Promise?”

There was more to that story. The asshole in question had hurt her somehow besides laughing at her and hurting her pride. As I watched sadness cross her face, I knew it was a lot more than that.

“You’re doin’ great. This is a good start. So you never learned. Big deal. You’re learnin’ now, and I’m happy I get to be the guy to teach you.”

Finally, she looked at me again. “Really?”

“Yes. Haven’t you figured out by now that I don’t care what we’re doin’? As long as I get to look at your beautiful face and hear your laugh, I’m happy.” Leaning across the seat, I slid my arm behind her head and pulled her closer, kissing her until she was moaning and melting into my hands, and I felt like a teenager again, making out with my girlfriend in the parking lot in secret.

Squeezing her thigh softly, my thumb smoothing closer and closer to dangerous places, I said quietly, “When you’re ready, try again.”

I relaxed, resting my arm along the seatback, and she nodded. Finally, taking a big, cleansing breath, she steeled herself and shifted into drive gingerly.

“The thing you wanna do is get used to how it feels when you press on the gas pedal. Your brain knows the truck will move, but you have to get your body prepared for the way it feels. That’s what’s makin’ you nervous. We have plenty of room, so practice startin’ and stoppin’ till if feels natural.”

We lurched forward and slammed to a stop again, but I kept my mouth shut, and she tried again. And again and again. Twenty minutes later, she eased to a stop, looking at me with the most triumphant smile on her lips.

“Good girl.”

She smiled even bigger, then did a double take and glared at me. “Did you just ‘good girl’ me?”

Whoops. “Hm. Did I? Don’t think I did.”

She gasped. “You did! You know you did.” After sliding the truck into park, she unclipped her seatbelt and climbed over me, straddling my legs. “I’m not a little girl, Frank.”

Reaching up, I held her face between my hands, looking in her eyes. “No?”

She rubbed herself against me, and I pressed my hard-on up into the warm V between her thighs. Being this hard all the time couldn’t be good for my vascular system, could it? But I was not about to complain.

“No, I’m not. Yes, I’m a lot younger than you, but I’m a woman. I may not know how to drive, but I know how to do a lot of other things.”

My cock throbbed as she leaned down to kiss me again, her tongue snaking into my mouth, her breasts pressed against my chest. They were covered with about fifty layers of fabric, but they were there, and that knowledge alone turned me on.

I grabbed her ass with both hands. “There you go again, tryin’ to start somethin’. I think I should take you home.” I wasn’t sure I could control myself if I didn’t.

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