Page 21 of Old Flame

The hand he had on the steering wheel tightened. “I just do.”

That wasn’t good enough. My eyes dropped down to his crotch, and I sucked in a breath at the hard length that I could see pressing against his jeans. It looked big. I didn’t look at guys there normally. Were they all that size?

“Fuck, Salem,” he growled.

My eyes flew back up to his face.

His jaw jutted out, and he looked rigid. “Stop looking at my dick.”

I licked my lips nervously. “It’s hard.” My words came out in a whisper.

A tight laugh came from his lips. “Yeah.”

“W-why?”

He ran his free hand through his hair. “Jesus,” he muttered, then looked at me. “You’re sixteen. You know why cocks get hard.”

I nodded. “Yes, but…” I paused, not sure how to say this. “But I thought…you had to…want something for it to get like that.”

Another chuckle that held little humor. “Just because you’re too young for me to touch doesn’t mean I don’t think about it. And then you wear shit like that, and”—he shook his head—“my thoughts go there.”

A shiver ran through me. Rome had thought about touching me? Where? How? A tingle between my legs made me shift in my seat.

“Your hard nipples are poking through that tight top, AngelFace,” he drawled.

My breath quickened, and my body flushed.

“Does the thought turn you on—my dick getting hard from me thinking about the things I want to do to you?”

Oh God. I was getting achy now, and I wanted him to keep talking.

“Wh-what do you want to do to me?”

“Shit that I’m not going to. You’re too young.”

I wanted him to. I could feel an actual pulse between my legs. I uncrossed and recrossed my legs, trying to get some relief.

“Stop.” His word sounded like a snarl.

“What?”

“Stop squirming,” he said through his clenched teeth.

My chest was rising so hard and fast that I was afraid he could hear me. “I was…I…okay.”

We sat in silence for the rest of the drive, and I continued to get more worked up. Imagining him doing things to me. Thinking about him touching me. How his hand would look between my legs.

“Is your pussy wet?” he asked in a gravelly voice.

“Yes,” I admitted.

He pulled into the driveway and put the truck in park. I watched him as he stared straight out the window. His throat worked as he swallowed.

“I want to see you touch it.”

My breathing hitched. “It?”

He couldn’t mean what I thought he did.

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