Page 47 of Fourth Wheel
We’resilentformostof the drive back to her house. It’s not an uncomfortable silence—it feels more like a peace offering on her part. How the hell she knows when I need to be with my own thoughts shocks the shit out of me. Even my own twin rarely picks up on that. Or if he does, he ignores it. Somehow, she just knows.
Regardless of the silence, I can’t help but steal about twenty glances at her over the course of the fifteen-minute car ride. Loose strands of hair have fallen out of her braid, and she looks beautifully fresh faced, albeit tired.
She has the waistband of my sweats rolled over at least three times to keep them on her hips. The way my shirt falls over her chest—a chest I haven’t stopped thinking about since she whipped off her shirt and let me play last night—does all sorts of twisted things to my brain. And my dick.
There was never any question about whether I was attracted to Maddie Wheeler. But watching those videos unlocked an all-consuming sense of duty in me. That, paired with permission to take something for myself, as she put it, has my mind finally on board with this scheme.
She’s mine. Mine to have. Mine to keep safe. Mine to protect at all costs. I haven’t been able to think of anything else since she clicked play on that first video.
I pull into her driveway, a sense of déjà vu slamming into me as I recall the first night we met.
That was only a week ago.
Since then, everything has changed.
The second I put the car in park, she’s reaching for the door handle.
“Maddie—wait.”
She freezes on command, then slowly turns to look at me. She’s got this adorable smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose that I hadn’t noticed until now. I’ve been so determined to push her away over the last week… it’s disorienting to let myself appreciate all the little things about her I’ve been working so hard to ignore.
“I...” I reach out and take her hand in mine, willing her to feel my sincerity. “I wanted to say thank you.”
She scoffs and side-eyes me. “Don’t make it weird, Dem.”
Dem. I never told her she could call me that. Like it matters. We’ve already established that this woman does what she wants.
“I mean it,” I insist, leaning in and bringing her hand to my mouth so I can kiss her knuckles. “Thank you for helping Fielding last night. And thank you for…”
For what? The best head of my life? Letting me slide my dick between her perfect, perky tits?
I blow out a breath and try to get my head on straight. “Thank you for really seeing me,” I try.
She raises her eyebrows in challenge, but she doesn’t call me out on the overly simplified description of what we shared last night.
“So what happens now?” she asks quietly, tracing her thumb over the veins in my hand.
“What do you mean?”
“Are we going back to our roles as grumpy bartender and pesky brat with a schoolgirl crush? Or are you done pretending this isn’t real?” she fires back with that signature sass I love.
I give her a pointed look anyway.
“I never thought of you as a pesky brat, Maddie. I just… I just didn’t want to drag you into my mess.” I let out of heavy sigh and drop her hand. “But after last night, there’s no point in trying to hide the shitshow that is my life.”
“Does this mean I can hang out with you at The Oak again? Because those were undoubtedly my two favorite nights of summer so far.”
I stare out the windshield as I think through her request. I’m done pushing her away. I was done fighting our attraction the second I watched the first video this morning. Or maybe I gave up the game last night, when I let her straddle me and suck me off until I saw stars.
“I’m not going to send you away if you show up at The Oak. But we still have to be careful. I have to think of my brother.”
“I understand,” she insists. “I can be sneaky.” She gives me the most salacious smile. As if I need to be convinced that she can be sneaky.
“Maybe I’ll just happen to find you in a dark alley again one night—”
“Maddie,” I scold.
“I’m just saying!”
