Page 90 of Truck You

Did I mention I was swooning? Totally swooning and lost to this man. “Okay, I’m impressed. So, tell me about this true story that inspired the movies.”

“Apparently, these teenagers went camping in tents near a lake. The next day, a carpenter stumbled upon their tents and found them all stabbed to death. Actually, I think one of them was still alive. But they were all stabbed multiple times. But that’s not even the worst part.”

He pauses like he’s not going to continue. I grab his arm and shake it. “Mac! Tell me.”

He chuckles. “The lone survivor’s description of the murderer was creepy as fuck. He said he was dressed in all black and had bright red eyes. Who the hell has red eyes?”

“You’re making that up.”

“I’m not. I can prove it.” Mac pulls his phone out of his pocket and opens the browser. Within seconds, he’s pulled up an article and hands me his phone.

“Oh my God. I can’t believe I didn’t know this.”

The light from his phone is bright enough to light up his face. His expression is one of playfulness and excitement. “And you call yourself a fan.”

“Oh, stop. I bet there are things you don’t know about some of your favorite movies.” I poke him in the side, and he squirms. My smile grows. “Are you ticklish?”

I poke at his side again, and this time he jumps in his seat. “You are!’

He grabs my hand and quickly locks it behind my back before I free it from his grip.

“Don’t. Tickle. Me.” His voice is rough and deep and sends a vibration of lust throughout my entire body.

“Or what?” I ask, my own voice a little raspy.

“Or I’ll have to punish you. Remind you who’s in charge.” I don’t know how it’s possible, but his voice drops several octaves lower.

He roughly pulls me flush against his chest. His lips graze the sensitive skin of my neck and I melt. Gone. I’m in a puddle and have no control of my limp body.This man.

I want his mouth on more of me—all of me—and now I’m wishing I didn’t wear this damn sweater dress. It’s one of my favorite outfits, but the mock turtleneck makes it impossible for Mac to put his mouth where I want it.

“Mac,” I whisper. “Touch me.”

His hand slides down to my leg and teases the hem of my dress. My body instantly lights up with anticipation. But just as he moves his hand further up my thigh, the theater doors below us open with a bang and laughter from a group of teenagers fills the open spaces.

Mac jerks upright and straightens me in my seat. We watch as the group of kids file into the front two rows of the bottom level. Once they’ve taken their seats, they settle down some, but they’re still noisy based on expected movie theater etiquette.

Mac leans close to me, presses his mouth to my ear, and whispers, “Don’t think you’re off the hook. I’m still going to touch you. Now you just have to be extra quiet.”

* * *

I practically dragMac back to his truck after the firstFriday the 13thmovie ended. Screw sticking around to watch the other two. I’ve seen them. I’ll make Mac watch them with me some other time when I’m not so worked up because he spent an hour and a half teasing me.

Teasing. Me.

As promised, he put his hands on me. He touched me in all the right places and had me so close to orgasm more times than I can count. But he never let me come.

I spent the last hour and a half growling at him while he silently laughed.

Once we reach his truck, I don’t bother to walk around to the passenger side. I slide in through the driver’s side and make myself comfortable in the center.

“You better find somewhere private, mister,” I say as soon as he shuts the door behind him.

He tosses me that shit-eating grin that I normally love, but right now, I want to kiss it off his face. Okay, maybeslapis what I’m thinking, but I’m trying really hard to keep my frustration under control. He relentlessly teased me throughout the entire movie. Frustrated doesn’t even begin to describe how I feel right now.

“What’s the matter, Red? Something got you all worked up?”

I glare at him, cup my hand over his cock and squeeze. I squeeze hard. He winces and doubles over.

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