Page 30 of Withered

Jake adjusts the gear a few minutes later, and his fingers brush against my thigh. I suck in a breath because of his cold hand touching my warm thigh. All I could feel in that second of contact was a spark that went as fast as it came.

Jake notices my discomfort. “You, okay?” He gives me a quick glance before returning his attention to the road.

“Yeah. I’m good,” I stutter and hide my awkwardness by staring at the window as if it were the most beautiful thing in the car.

He shifts the gearagain, making contact with my bare skinagain. I don’t know if he is doing this intentionally or not, but it is making me uncomfortable now. I try to shift in my seat, but it’s of no use now. Jake’s hand is still on the gear shift.

“Am I making you uncomfortable, Rose?” He asks me, and I notice his signature smirk from the corner of my eyes. I narrow my eyes at him as he speaks again. “So, you mean to say when I touch you, you don’t feel anything?”

“No,” I reply.

“You sure?” He asks again.

“Yes, Jake,” I say, but my tone betrays me.

“So, if I do this,” he says, removing his hand from the gear shift and placing it on my left knee, “you don’t feel anything?” I suck in a sharp breath at the contact.

“No.” I lie.I certainly feel many things.

The spark is back, and I feel it all over my body. The way his hand covers my knee and his fingers are drumming is making me squirm in my seat.

“What about this, then?” He moves his hand up, his slow, torturing movements driving me crazy. He halts at my mid-thigh now, his fingers slowly massaging my skin there.

I am distracted—too distracted. All I can focus on right now is his hand and the way his fingers are resting, but I can’t let him know.

Instead, I ignore his hand and turn my gaze outside the window as I reply, “No, Jake.”

He chuckles and slides his hand inside my dress. My breathing becomes heavier, and I can’t take it anymore. So, I pick up his hand and keep it on the gear shift.

“Yeah, it doesn’t affect you.” Now he is just plain mocking me.

Although it pains me to admit it, I am craving more of his touch, despite how annoyed I was by it. Something is wrong with me because I can’t focus on anything now. I want to feel that spark again—his cold fingers on my warm skin.

Jake stops right in front of my house, and instead of getting out, I turn in my seat and face him, to which he raises his eyebrow at me.

“What is up with you today?” I ask him.

He cuts off the engine and faces me with furrowed eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

I list it off. “I mean, you’ve been nice to me all night. You didn’t do anything to make me angry or piss me off. What are you up to, Mr. Jake Henderson?”

He shrugs his shoulders, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. “I just thought we should have a good time, you know? Get along.”

“Okay,” I say, even though I am not quite satisfied with his answer. I don’t want to have any more talks with him, as I’m super tired and just want to bury myself in bed.

“I’m going to go. Thanks for the ride.” I was about to open the door when Jake cut me off, saying, “Don’t you dare open that door.”

I turn back, confused, and he continues, “I don’t want to scare you, but there is a spider over there.” He points somewhere near the window, but the only word I catch in the whole sentence isspider. Shock and horror must be written all over my face as I scoot away from the door.

“You wait here.” He exits the car. My gaze follows him as he circles and opens the door. He bows and says, “Milady.”

I get out and ask, “Was there even a spider?”

“What spider are you talking about?” He asks with a confused and innocent face.

I roll my eyes. “You could have simply told me to wait before opening the door. Some gentlemen you are.” I shut the door with a loud thud.

“What’s the fun in that? If I told you to wait, knowing you, you would be out of the door before I completed my sentence.” He’s leaning against the door. Knowing me, I would have done that too.

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