Page 54 of Off-Limits Daddy
This time, he eased off the clutch slower. Gave it just enough gas. The truck jerked forward with a shudder, but didn’t die—just rocked into motion like it was testing him back. Gravel crunched beneath the tires.
And Ari—grinning now, wild with disbelief—looked like he could’ve flown straight into the damn sky.
“Knew you could do it,” I said, voice low and warm.
We kept going. Around the lot’s edge, past the rusting barrels and back again. He stalled once on a gear change—cursed under his breath, cheeks red—but got it on the second try. Then again. And again. Each lap smoother. By the first time he shifted cleanwithout a stutter, his posture had changed. Shoulders back, hands surer on the wheel.
“That’s it,” I said, watching him. “You’re in control now, baby.”
He turned a pretty pink instantly. His pride rolled off him in waves, straight down his neck and beneath the collar of his shirt.
“Alright,” I murmured. “Ease off now. Bring her to a stop.”
Ari followed my instructions without a word. He did everything right—smooth, careful, deliberate. When the truck settled, he let his hands fall into his lap. He didn’t look at me right away. Didn’t move.
Midday light filtered through the windshield, soft and gold. The air inside the cab clung warm to our skin. We sat there, breathing. Nothing else between us.
He finally turned, lips parted, chest rising and falling like he hadn’t yet come down from whatever high he’d found behind the wheel.
“You gonna kiss me now?”
I didn’t answer. Just reached over, cupped his jaw, and kissed him. Nothing slow. Nothing sweet. Just all that heat I’d been holding back since the second he got behind the wheel.
Ari made a sound low in his throat, something between a gasp and a groan, a sound I’d been hearing in my head since our first kiss. Then he was climbing across the console, over the stick shift, mouth still on mine. His thighs straddled mine, grinding down, hips shifting like his body remembered exactly where we’d left off.
I broke the kiss just long enough to murmur, “Let’s take this somewhere better, sweetheart. I want you spread out for me.”
His breath caught. A flush crept up his neck, and he slipped out of the truck without a word.
I followed, heart hammering, cock aching, the taste of him on my tongue.
Before climbing into the bed, I pulled my jacket from the back of the cab and laid it flat across the truck bed. It wasn’t much, but it would take the edge off the warm metal.
The truck bed was shaded now, low light slanting through the trees and painting everything in gold. The lot behind the fire training grounds was deserted, tucked between rusted barrels and the husk of an old trailer. Quiet. Private. Just enough risk to get my pulse racing.
Ari climbed into the bed first, legs swinging over the side, his shirt already rumpled from where I’d tugged on it. I followed, the sun catching in his curls as I hauled myself up and dropped onto the warm metal floor, back against the cab.
He straddled my thighs without hesitation, his hands settling on my shoulders, steadying himself like he’d done it a thousand times. Like this was his place.
“You’re trouble,” I murmured, hands finding his waist.
His grin was sharp and smug. “You like trouble.”
God help me, I did.
I pushed his shirt up, then off, letting my mouth follow. Kisses dragged down his chest, slow and reverent. His skin was hot beneath my tongue, his nipples already tight. I tongued one, then the other, loving the way he gasped and arched into me—so responsive, so quick to offer himself up.
I slid my hands down his back, fingers tracing the soft curve of his spine, and dipped just beneath the waistband of his joggers. That’s when I felt it.
Lace.
I stilled.
Not cotton. Not mesh. Not some novelty joke from the back of a drawer.
Lace.
I caught his hips, holding him still.
