Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 98612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Fifteen minutes later, RJ and I are fully dressed and ready for an outing so we can restock condoms—and maybe food, although that is definitely second on the to-do list.
It’s fairly warm today, crisp like that time between spring and summer in Washington.
He spins the truck keys on his finger. “You know what we should do?”
“If it involves your penis and my vagina, it needs to wait until we get back from our shopping trip.”
He grins wolfishly. “You have a one-track mind, don’t you?”
“Only when I’m around you, apparently,” I mutter.
“Lainey! Catch!” RJ shouts.
I raise both hands defensively, because I am not known for my excellent reaction time, and am rather surprised when my fist closes around the object he’s tossed my way. “I am not good at catching things, so I don’t suggest you do that again.”
“You can be good at anything if you practice enough,” RJ replies.
I glance down at my palm and find I’m holding his truck keys. “I don’t have my license, remember?”
“I know. I’m going to teach you how to drive.”
I glance at his monster rental truck with all the bells and whistles. “No. Nope. No way.” I toss the keys back to him. My aim is terrible, but he still manages to snag them out of the air before they hit the ground.
“Why not?”
“What happens if I ruin that truck?” My father has the base model, and it’s expensive as heck. I can’t afford to ruin a truck.
“You’re not going to ruin it, Lainey. I’ll be right beside you, teaching you what to do. We’ll take it slow.”
“But I might scratch the paint. Or hit something.” I’ve seen a lot of roadkill on our trips to town. I would prefer not to add to that body count.
RJ arches a brow. “You grew up on a farm. You have to have driven a tractor.”
I cross my arms over my chest. Of course I’ve driven a tractor. “Not the same, and you know it.” I can back up into the fence or accidentally hit the side of the barn and no one will get mad at me for scratching it, since farm machinery is meant to get beaten up.
A half grin tips up the corner of RJ’s mouth. “You’re right, not the same at all. A tractor is way more difficult to drive than a truck. You’ll be a pro in no time.”
“Tractors are meant to be ridden hard—trucks like this one, not so much.” I make a flaily gesture toward his sporty, unscratched, undented rental. It’s rather intimidating and fancy.
His half smile turns into a full-on grin, and his eyes move over me in a slow, hot sweep. “I’ll make you a deal.”
“What kind of deal?”
“I’ll let you ride me however you want if you give it a try.”
“How would that be different than any other day?”
He taps his lip thoughtfully. “Hmm, you have a point. You’re pretty demanding when you’re naked.”
“I’m trying to be helpful!” I defend myself. “I don’t see the point in being a passive recipient. Unless you’d prefer I keep you guessing as to what I like and what I don’t.”
RJ drags his tongue along his bottom lip. “I fucking love how expressive you are.” Palm flattening against my lower back, he pulls me into him, his erection pressed against my stomach. “Please, Lainey. Let me teach you something new.”
I glance at the truck and back at RJ. He looks so excited and turned on by the prospect. When I said I didn’t have a license, I didn’t mean that I can’t drive. I can. But I’m not comfortable on highways, and I’ve only ever driven on country roads—and always in a beat-up pickup truck, not something nice like his rental. Still, RJ thinks I don’t know how, and if he wants to persuade me to learn, who am I to take the opportunity away from him?
I’m sure I can handle driving on the road into town. Plus, I won’t have my mother beside me, freaking out when I get even close to the speed limit. She drives like an eighty-year-old on Sunday.
“Okay. I’ll give it a try.”
RJ helps me into the driver’s seat—which is mostly just an excuse to touch my butt—and adjusts the seat so I’m closer to the gas and brake pedals. He rolls down the window, closes the door, and pulls his phone out of his pocket. “Smile, baby.”
I give him a cheesy grin, excitement and nerves battling as he snaps a picture and rounds the hood. He gives me a brief rundown of all the dials and knobs before I slip the key in and turn the ignition over. The engine rumbles to life. I wipe my hands on my thighs, since I put lotion on before we left the cabin.
“Hey.” RJ places his hand over mine and gives it a gentle squeeze. “Don’t doubt yourself, Lainey. You got this.”