Page 21 of Overtime

“Eddie, can we…slow down a little?” My voice comes out weaker than I intend, and sure enough, my words go unheeded by the horny guy on top of me.

He doesn’t back off, doesn’t even break contact as he uses his body to leverage my legs open so he can slide between them. The damn bench seat in the cab of his truck only makes it easier for him to maneuver me exactly the way he wants as my body slides over the tan leather with little resistance.

My heart beats a rapid rhythm in my chest, punctuated by every sharp thrust of his erection against me. How he can dry-hump me with both of us in jeans and feel any pleasure from it is beyond me. With every grind of his pelvis against mine, the soft cotton of my panties isn’t enough to prevent my zipper from biting into my sensitive skin.

“Eddie, that hurts,” I whine.

“I know it does. Fuck, my cock is throbbing.”

At least he acknowledged me this time. I expect him to retreat back to his side of the truck, but once again…disappointment. Instead of shutting this down, he lifts his body off mine just enough to open the button and zipper of his jeans and shove his boxers and pants down in one rough tug.

His erection springs free, setting off a five-alarm cacophony of warning bells in my head.

Using my momentary reprieve from his crushing weight, I pull my legs up and scramble into a crouched position in the corner of the seat.

Forget weak. My voice downright shakes now. “Wh-what are you doing?”

The corner of his mouth lifts in a half smile, half grimace. “You said you were hurting. Don’t you want me to make it all better?”

Oh, hell no. “That isn’t what I meant.”

“I know you’re a virgin, Evie. It’s okay. You don’t have to be scared. I know what I’m doing.”

I seriously doubt that if the way he kisses is any indication. Even if he does know what he’s doing, I have zero desire to lose my virginity to Eddie Hinton. It was never supposed to go this far.

He’s so lost in stroking his dick that he seems completely unaware of the internal battle I’m currently waging.

“Eddie, I can’t do this anymore.”

“You can be on top, babe. I don’t care as long as my cock gets inside your tight virgin pussy.”

Any stupid notion I previously had for making myself seem more experienced by dating him flies away as he sits on the seat and grunts while he continues to masturbate in front of me. My dumbass idea has totally backfired. The only guy who desires me is ready to blow his load all over his pants while I fantasize about a guy who’s never shown me a bit of interest.

“You’re not listening. I don’t want to do this anymore.”

Eddie seems to snap out of his haze of lust and gapes at me as his hand stills on his dick. “What do you mean, you don’t want to do this anymore? We’ve been on six dates. I think we’ve been together long enough to go through with this?”

I bite my lip until the coppery taste of blood blooms on my tongue. Now doesn’t seem like the right time to remind him that he’s never asked me point-blank to be his girlfriend. Only because it would be logical for him to argue everyone at school assumes I am, and I’ve said nothing to correct them.

Then again, Eddie’s hardly logical.

“Um…we’re not together. We’ve been on a couple of dates, yes, but that’s it. That’s all this is. Just dating.”

Quite frankly, that’s the only thing keeping my guilt in check.

I can’t quite make out the color of his face in the darkness that surrounds us, but I’ve no doubt it’s red. He’s practically vibrating with anger.

“And do you have any idea how much money I’ve spent on these six dates? Huh?”

Well, we haven’t gone anywhere all that nice, so I’m betting not much. But, again, biting my lip. And my tongue.

“I’ve spent a hell of a lot of time and money on you, Eva. I want a return on my investment.”

I blink my eyes in slow shock. That might be the first sort of intelligent thing he’s said during the aforementioned six dates.

“Well?” he shouts.

“Well, what?” I’m finding it difficult to have a rational, calm conversation with Eddie when his limp noodle is still hanging out of his open jeans. At least that means it’s game over for sexy times, which is a small relief.

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