Page 2 of Cupid's Arrow

“Where is Ben?” He keeps his gaze averted.

“At the shop. He is doing something to surprise you. So I came to pick you up,” I explain, wishing he would at least look at me. I haven’t gotten to see his eyes in so long, and now he is hiding them from me.

A few seconds pass before he sighs in surrender. “Fine, but I’m driving.”

I’ll take that as a win.

Without another word, he spins around and heads toward my car. The guards give me one more curious look before walking back into the guardhouse. I follow behind Arrow and get into the passenger’s seat. When I wiggle into my seat, I let my dress slide up my leg on purpose this time. Arrow makes a pained grunting sound, and his hands turn into white-knuckled fists around the steering wheel.

We both shut our doors, trapping us together in this small space. The air changes, and an invisible tension forms between us. Suddenly, the car feels tiny, like there isn’t enough room to hold Arrow’s presence.

“Did you not have anything else to wear?” he asks as he puts the car in drive and pulls away from the gate.

“What’s wrong with my dress?” I keep my voice even, looking down at my bare knees innocently. The way he is talking, I’m not sure if he loves it or hates it. I do know it’s nothing in between. His reaction is too strong to be anything besides the two extremes.

“Are you even wearing a bra? Jesus, you’re half naked.” His foot presses down on the gas, pushing my car to go faster.

“No, I’m not. And I figured you would appreciate it after six months.” I shrug, leaving out the part where I chose this dress, hoping to seduce him.

And I’m definitely leaving out the part about not wearing panties. I smirk to myself. That’s going to be a surprise for later.

2

ARROW

Six months in prison, and this has to be the worst five minutes of my life. Did she really think I would appreciate her wearing this flimsy summer dress? It’s nothing but torture.

Yes, it’s been a long time since I’ve been with a woman. Way longer than the six months I’ve been locked up. It wouldn’t have taken much to get my dick hard, but seeing Corinne, out of all people? Seeing her smooth bare legs, smelling her sweet vanilla shampoo, and feeling her presence next to me, has my cock so fucking hard it’s the most painful thing in the world.

“Why are you so angry? Shouldn’t you be happy to be out of there?” Her question catches me off guard because it makes me realize how I look to her.

The truth is, I’m not angry. I’m ecstatic to see her. I’ve waited, counted down every fucking second in the last six months to this exact moment. There is no anger. There is only a carnal need to rip her clothes off and rut her like the wild animal I am. What she is seeing is me fighting against it, fighting against the urge to ravish her, to turn my brain off and let our bodies do the talking.

My jaw clenches. I couldn’t even get a word out if I knew what to tell her. I can’t let her know what I’m really thinking. I’m pretty sure hearing how I fantasize about forcing her on her knees and fucking her throat would not go over well.

Corinne is the most innocent girl I know. She’s never had a boyfriend and never seemed interested, either. Other girls her age like to go out and party. She prefers to stay home and bury her nose in a book. It’s one of the many things I love about her.

She huffs when I don’t answer. Leaning back in her seat, she folds her arms over her chest like she is pouting. What she doesn’t realize is that it also pushes her tits up, giving me a side view of the swell of her breasts.

Stifling a groan, I grip the steering wheel impossibly tight. Fuck, I want to bury my face between those tits. I want to kiss every fucking inch of her body until my lips are sore and my muscles ache from exhaustion.

The tension in this car is thicker than the cum leaking out the tip of my cock. I don’t have to look down at my pants to know I’m leaving a wet spot around my zipper.

“You know, if you weren’t so stubborn, I could take care of that,” Corinne murmurs from the passenger seat. I’m not even sure what she is talking about until I glance over and see her staring at the tent my dick has pitched under my pants.

My mouth goes dryer than Nevada on a hot summer day. What the fuck? My sweet, innocent Corinne didn’t just offer to suck my dick, did she?

I let the question swirl around in my brain. She has only ever talked this way in my wet dreams. Maybe I’m still sleeping in my dingy cell.

Blinking a few times, I wait to wake up. When I don’t, annoyance takes over. Why would she say that? More importantly, has she talked to anyone else in this way? Now I am fucking angry.

“Don’t say shit like that, little girl.” I force my gaze back to the road, but not before I catch the way her body shudders at my pet name. She likes when I call her little girl, but she definitely isn’t one anymore. Everything about her screams woman. Hourglass figure, big tits, lips made for sucking cock, and long smooth legs meant to be spread apart.

Fuck me. I’m in so much trouble.

“You know, I’m eighteen now.”

I shrug. Of course, I know when her birthday is. I know everything about her. “Sorry I didn’t make it to your party.” It comes out way more sarcastic than I anticipate. I am actually sorry I wasn’t there. Now more than ever. I wonder if she made friends at the party. Perhaps a Male friend? Is that where she picked up this new flirty talk?

---