Page 37 of A Real Goode Time

We got back to my place again, and by this time it was past midnight. Torie yawned prodigiously, which made me yawn.

“God, I’m gonna sleep like the dead,” she said. “What a day.”

“No kidding.” I was trying to figure out how I could get a shower in without asking her to sit alone in the garage.

She eyed me. “What?”

I arched an eyebrow. “What, what?”

“You’re thinking about something.”

I laughed. “How can you tell?”

“You always scratch the back of your head when you’re thinking about what to say.”

I blinked at her. “I…do?”

“Yeah, you do.”

“Oh. Never realized that.” I rolled a shoulder. “Well, I need a shower. But you’re about to fall asleep.”

She nodded. “And you don’t want to inconvenience me.”

“Well, I don’t want to keep you up any longer.”

She patted my forearm, and somehow how her hand ended up just…staying there, on my forearm. “I’ll sit on the outside steps and call my sister.”

When we got back inside, she went right for the side exit. “Just let me know when you’re done. No accidentally walking in on you, this time.”

I choked on a laugh—mainly because I was planning on doing exactly what she’d walked in on me doing the last time.

I couldn’t help it. I wanted what I couldn’t have, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t imagine it.

So, once she was out on the steps and I heard her talking to her sister, I turned on the shower to let the water heat up, stripped and tossed my dirty clothes in the hamper, and then stepped into the shower. Adjusted the water. Contemplated grabbing my phone and finding visual stimulation.

Didn’t need it. The moment I was naked and soaking in the hot water, my mind went right to Torie. She’d been in this shower less than twenty-four hours ago. Naked. Scrubbing her skin. Water sluicing down between her tight, pert breasts and plump nipples. Maybe she’d played with herself a little. I wondered if she liked to do it in bed, or in the shower?

Maybe both.

She’d admitted she’d thought about me…I wondered what she’d imagined, or if we’d fantasized about the same thing. Probably not.

She probably didn’t imagine herself sliding over my body, laying on top of me, reaching for me, mouth open, ready to taste me.

She probably didn’t imagine herself spread out on the cherry-red hood of a muscle car, taking me deep as we moved together…

Shit.

On second thought, she may very well be all about that second scenario. I noticed the way she shifted and hid a grin when I started spewing technical jargon.

It turned her on, for some reason. I should be so lucky to find a chick who was a gearhead and got off on gearhead shit like talking about Holley carburetors and Edelbrock air cleaners and boring out piston cylinders for extra horsepower.

The image of Torie splayed out on her back on the hood of a red muscle car wouldn’t go away. There’d be classic rock playing the background, sun shining through the open bay door. I’d be all greasy, and she’d be all white and clean and perfect. She’d strip for me, sultry and slow. Lie back on the hood and reach for me. I’d slide up the sculpted sheet metal, and my hands would leave dark smears on her pale fresh skin. Her legs would wrap around me, her lips would touch mine and whisper to me, maybe my name, or maybe a plea to take her right then, right now…just like this.

My fist was a blur on my cock, and I was aching, pulsating with pent-up need, picturing Torie beneath me and her skin against mine, writhing with me, begging me for more…

I spurted all over the shower, and the water rinsed it away, and I finished the rest of my shower hoping I’d be able to get through this road trip with my sanity and my self-administered standards of morality intact.

I knew she was attracted to me.