Page 62 of Cocky Nerd
“What?”
“Pretend the steering wheel is a clock. Keep your hands at ten and twoo’clock.”
“Nobody drives likethat!”
“Ido.”
“Nerd.”
He mumbles something under his breath, I’m pretty sure it involves “pointynipples.”
I move the gearshift thing into Drive and slowly, carefully, move my right foot onto the gas pedal, my left foot hovering above the brake pedal. I drive slower than I thought it was possible todrive.
“Emergencybrakes.”
“What?!” I jam my foot back onto the brake pedal, because I can’t talk and drive at the sametime.
He calmly points to the parking brake. “Release the parkingbrake.”
“Fine.” I release the parking brake. I release my foot from the brake pedal. I press my foot against the gas pedal. And Idrive.
I drive the shit out of this rental car. I don’t drive all herky-jerky or super slow. I drive straight, and when he tells me to signal and then make a right turn, I do it. He barks at me to check the mirrors before turning even when there’s no one around because there might be someone around. When he tells me to make a left turn, I signal first, check the mirrors, and then I do it. When he tells me to change lanes, I don’t tell him that there aren’t any lanes, I signal, check my mirrors, and then I pretend to changelanes.
I fucking love driving. I can’t believe I’ve never done this before. He’s right. I was scared. It’s so dumb to be scared of something that pretty much every adult on this continent does on a regularbasis.
“Change lanes and then make a leftturn.”
I signal, check my mirrors, look over my shoulder, and pretend to change lanes, then slow down and make a left turn. Driving isfun.
“Okay, slow down and come to a complete stop, put it in park. That’senough.”
“But I’m havingfun!”
“We need to get back and change for thefundraiser.”
I groan, but I slow down and stop andpark.
“Good job, kid,” he says. “I knew you could doit.”
Before he has unbuckled and unlocked his door, I have climbed over the center divider and lowered myself onto him, straddlinghim.
“What areyou—”
I kisshim hard and deep. I feel like a teenager. He tries to speak and pull away from me, but he can’t. He can’t because I’m grinding away on him and I’ve moved his hands to my pointy nipples. I am so turned on by this man. The element of surprise. The confidence. The trust. The way his hands squeeze my tits even when he’s protesting that we have to get going, the deep sound from his throat, the dark stubble that tickles my skin, his hard cock inside his very expensive jeans, the way his tongue sweeps around inside my mouth even before he realizes what I’m doing to him. The talk of driving my kids around Palo Alto in a zombieapocalypse.
I pull off his glasses and place them on thedashboard.
“I want you to fuckme.”
“I don’t have condoms onme.”
“I don’t care, I’m on thepill.”
“Two forms of birth control.” His voice is deep and breathy, but he’s squeezing my ass as I bear down on him, dry humping him like it’s an Olympic category and I am going for the gold. I lift my hands up to the ceiling of the car and let my head fall as I arch back and he raises my T-shirt, kissing my breasts and rocking his hipsup.
I am wild and blind with desire, but he is so unabashedly into me right now, I don’t want to lose this feeling. I want John Brandt to lose his mind from wanting me so much. “Fuck me John Brandt,” I whisper into his ear, “I want your big hard dick inside ofme.”
“Olivia.”
