Page 86 of Whisking It All

Jamie pulled the car onto the highway, his hand settling on her knee now that they were out of town. “You’re awfully quiet over there.”

“Just looking at the trees,” she lied, uncertain even as she said it why she was lying. “We didn’t get colors like this in Vegas.”

“Were you in Vegas long?” he asked.

“About four years.”

“And before Vegas?”

“Before that was about six months in Tampa, and before that was six years in South Carolina. That’s the longest we stayed anywhere. Before South Carolina, we bounced around a lot, moving every year or so—Detroit, Portland, Kennebunk, Atlanta. Oh, and there was the year we spent in Virginia. And before that, four or five years in Phoenix. I was still pretty young then. I don’t really remember the details.”

It was the first time she’d listed it out like that in years, and she felt somewhat lighter for it. She’d learned early on that when you moved as much as she and her mother had without a job or something to justify it, people started to look at you strangely, started to whisper about why you moved so much. No one ever considered it was just the way Stephanie Cordeiro was—they’d stay in one place until something went wrong, until her mother had reason to worry that someone might be angry with her or might try to discard her first, and then they’d leave. It had taken Tessa years to realize that not everyone operated that way.

Jamie’s fingers stroked the inside of her knee. “That must have been hard. Moving around so much.” His words were careful, but they didn’t sound judgmental. Just cautious. Like he recognized that she was peeling back another layer of herself and letting him see this messy corner of her life that she usually kept hidden from view.

“Yeah, it was,” she said, sinking into her seat. “It’s nice to stay in one place for a while. In Vegas, there were different people around every night. Even my co-workers changed all the time. It was like moving while standing still.” He hummed like he understood what she meant. “I know I’ve only been in Aster Bay a few months, but it already feels more like—”

She stopped herself, glancing at Jamie, unsure how he’d react. Maybe he liked the idea that she was temporary. Maybe he didn’t want to hear that she’d been thinking about sticking around for a while.

His hand slid higher up her thigh. “Like what, princess?”

“Like home.”

The corner of his mouth kicked up and that tiny movement was like the clouds parting. Relief washed over her and she placed her hand on top of his, sliding it even higher up her leg, under the hem of her skirt. His fingers stroked over the smooth skin there and he made that low rumbly sound again.

He kept his eyes focused on the road as his fingers slid higher and higher up her thigh. His entire body went tight when his fingertips brushed the exposed curls at the apex of her thighs. She let her knees drop to the side and he stroked a finger over her slit in gentle passes, like he was hardly aware he was driving her wild.

“Jamie,” she whined, canting her hips into his touch.

“What’s your rush, baby? We’ve got a long drive.” He slid one finger through her folds, just up to the first knuckle, sliding it up and down the length of her pussy. “Is this what you were hoping for when you decided not to put on panties?”

“Actually, I was hoping you’d finger me at dinner.”

The pad of his finger found her clit, gently sliding over the stiff little button. “Seems to me you don’t want to wait all the way until dinner.” He pressed slow, firm circles over her clit and her breathing grew heavier. Jamie glanced at her, the smirk on his lips making it clear he knew exactly what he was doing to her. “Seems to me you want my fingers now.”

“I always want them.”

“Good girl.”

He played with her clit with deliberately unhurried slides of his fingertip. Every time her orgasm began to take shape, he’d gentle his touch, drag his finger through her growing wetness and paint it over the place where she ached for him.

“We have another hour before we get to Boston,” he mused. “How many times do you think I can make you come before we get there?”

“Only one way to find out.”

He glanced at her, his eyes dark and hungry as they roved her face and the place where his hand disappeared beneath her skirt. “Pull up your skirt, princess. I want to see you.”

She did as she was told, sliding the stretchy material up around her hips. Any truck that pulled up alongside them would be able to see her—see them. After weeks of hiding, the idea that someone might see Jamie’s hands on her only made her wetter.

“Now you,” she said, tilting her chin towards the obvious erection tenting the front of his pants.

He shook his head. “It’s hard enough to focus on the road with my fingers in your pussy. We’re not getting into an accident today.” She pouted, but she knew he was right. He laughed at her disappointed expression. “Don’t worry, princess. You can have my cock all you want when this car stops.”

She quirked an eyebrow at him, sliding her hand down his wrist and using two of her own fingers to press two of his into her pussy. “Anywhere I want?” she asked.

“Anywhere but moving vehicles,” he confirmed, fucking her slowly with his fingers.

She withdrew her own fingers, now coated in her wetness, and held them up to his lips. He turned his head just enough to suck them into his mouth, scraping his teeth along the pads of her fingers as he licked her juices from her fingers, never taking his eyes from the road.

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