Weightless
Page 56
It was a lazy Wednesday, which I actually cherished. I spent the day watching more episodes of Lost and even took a nap, which I couldn’t remember doing all summer. I had a big night planned with Rhodes, and I wanted to be awake and energized.
When I woke around five, I had a missed text from Mason.
— I’m worried about you. Did you think about what I said? —
I rolled my eyes, stifling a yawn as I padded across the cool hardwood floor to the stairs. Funny, Mason seemed more invested in my wellbeing now than he ever had the two years we’d dated. For once, I was beginning not to care what Mason thought of me. Or anyone else, for that matter.
I took my time getting dressed, applying my makeup with careful precision. It paid off when Rhodes slid into my passenger seat with a whistle at just past eight.
“You look gorgeous,” he said, planting a sweet kiss on my lips as I threw the Rover into drive. “So, are you going to tell me where you’re taking me yet?”
“That would ruin the surprise, silly.”
He grumbled. “I’m too impatient for surprises.”
“Clearly.” I laughed, but the sound caught in my throat when his hand reached across the console and ran up the inside of my thigh. I was wearing a short white dress with a modest top and A-line hem. The more his fingers inched north, the more I squirmed.
“Rhodes,” I warned.
“What? Am I distracting you?”
I hesitated longer than normal when the red light turned green, which was all the answer Rhodes needed. He chuckled from a place deep in his chest.
“I fucking love the way I affect you,” he whispered, trailing his hand higher. I gripped the wheel.
“Rhodes, seriously.” I bit my lip, nervous to tell him exactly why he needed to stop, but when his fingers crawled even higher, the words flew from my mouth. “I’m not wearing any panties!”
I had whisper-yelled, just barely audible over the sound of the radio, but I might as well have announced it through a microphone at a stadium. Rhodes stopped, his hand just inches from my center, and a devilish grin curled on his lips.
“Well I’m definitely not stopping now.”
The air conditioning was on full blast, but suddenly it felt too hot to breathe.
“Move your seat back as far as you can to still be able to drive.”
My shaking hand found the control on the door and my seat slowly slid back a few more inches.
“Put both hands on the steering wheel,” he demanded next. “And keep them there.”
I gripped the wheel at two and ten, my knuckles whitening with the force. Rhodes kissed up my neck and sucked my earlobe into his mouth, his hand riding higher and higher up my thigh.
“Tilt your hips forward,” he whispered, and when I did, he filled me with two fingers. I gasped, my eyes fluttering closed. “And don’t crash.”
My eyes snapped open again.
With his fingers still dancing inside me, Rhodes kissed and sucked the sensitive skin of my neck, making it practically impossible to keep my focus on the road. The sun hadn’t even completely set yet, but the Range Rover had illegally dark tinted windows, which almost eliminated my concern that passing cars would get a peek of the show. For once, I was thankful for Dale’s obsession with his cars.
“It’s a good thing you’re not wearing panties,” Rhodes breathed, withdrawing his fingers slowly before thrusting them inside once more. “Because they would definitely be soaked now.”
I moaned, biting my lower lip with enough pressure to draw blood. Rhodes’ eyes caught the motion and he snaked in to replace my teeth with his own. I was trying so desperately to pay attention to the road, but his mouth was everywhere and his fingers were relentlessly pushing me closer to the release I was anxious to find.
My hands shook on the wheel. My breaths were labored. Adrenaline pumped through my veins as if I’d stolen the car we were driving. My core was tight, my legs tense, and I could feel myself on the brink of desire.
Rhodes maneuvered his left arm from where it had been holding him up on the console and he gripped the bottom of the steering wheel. “Hit the cruise control.”
I did as he said before snapping my hands right back into position. I was squirming in his hand, moans ripping from my throat.
“You’re not going to come unless you let go.”
Glancing at him through heavy eyelids, I blanched when I realized what he meant.
“I can’t,” I started, but his thumb found my clit and I moaned instead of finishing my sentence.
“Trust me. I’ve got the wheel. Let go, Natalie.”
I hesitated, but slowly, my hands fell down the sides of the wheel. One gripped the door while the other rested on top of where his was between my thighs. Pushing him into me with more force, I ground my hips against his palm under mine, finding the perfect friction to send me spiraling. My eyes closed, my lips parted, and I fell. It was a release unlike any I’d had before — quick, electric, forbidden.
Incredible.
When I opened my eyes again, I jerked my hands back into place on the wheel, realizing Rhodes was only steering with his left hand. He held it steady, but my sated mind was still afraid of losing control.
Rhodes only smirked, slowly removing his fingers before lifting them to his lips. My breath caught as he slid them inside his mouth, sucking my desire off his skin. I was still panting, my mind racing with what we’d just done.
Leaning back in his seat, Rhodes fastened his seatbelt and didn’t say another word.
Ten minutes later, we pulled into the parking lot of LaRue’s, a small beach-front restaurant known for its high-end dining experience. Dale and Mom liked to eat there at least once a month, and usually while there was a special event or show. I was hoping to give Rhodes a more hands-on introduction.
“We can’t eat here,” Rhodes said, shaking his head as I put the Rover in park. He was staring up at the restaurant logo with wide eyes. I straightened out the slightly wrinkled fabric of my dress, heart still racing.
“We’re not just eating here.”
Rhodes cocked his head, questioning.
“We’re cooking here.”
Before he could ask questions, I hopped out of the car and made my way toward the entrance. I tried to hide the smile on my face as he jogged to catch up to me just as the tall glass and mahogany door gently swung open.
“Good evening, Miss Poxton,” the gentleman holding the door greeted. He was tall, with skin as dark as Willow’s and bright hazel eyes. “Always a pleasure to see you.”
When I woke around five, I had a missed text from Mason.
— I’m worried about you. Did you think about what I said? —
I rolled my eyes, stifling a yawn as I padded across the cool hardwood floor to the stairs. Funny, Mason seemed more invested in my wellbeing now than he ever had the two years we’d dated. For once, I was beginning not to care what Mason thought of me. Or anyone else, for that matter.
I took my time getting dressed, applying my makeup with careful precision. It paid off when Rhodes slid into my passenger seat with a whistle at just past eight.
“You look gorgeous,” he said, planting a sweet kiss on my lips as I threw the Rover into drive. “So, are you going to tell me where you’re taking me yet?”
“That would ruin the surprise, silly.”
He grumbled. “I’m too impatient for surprises.”
“Clearly.” I laughed, but the sound caught in my throat when his hand reached across the console and ran up the inside of my thigh. I was wearing a short white dress with a modest top and A-line hem. The more his fingers inched north, the more I squirmed.
“Rhodes,” I warned.
“What? Am I distracting you?”
I hesitated longer than normal when the red light turned green, which was all the answer Rhodes needed. He chuckled from a place deep in his chest.
“I fucking love the way I affect you,” he whispered, trailing his hand higher. I gripped the wheel.
“Rhodes, seriously.” I bit my lip, nervous to tell him exactly why he needed to stop, but when his fingers crawled even higher, the words flew from my mouth. “I’m not wearing any panties!”
I had whisper-yelled, just barely audible over the sound of the radio, but I might as well have announced it through a microphone at a stadium. Rhodes stopped, his hand just inches from my center, and a devilish grin curled on his lips.
“Well I’m definitely not stopping now.”
The air conditioning was on full blast, but suddenly it felt too hot to breathe.
“Move your seat back as far as you can to still be able to drive.”
My shaking hand found the control on the door and my seat slowly slid back a few more inches.
“Put both hands on the steering wheel,” he demanded next. “And keep them there.”
I gripped the wheel at two and ten, my knuckles whitening with the force. Rhodes kissed up my neck and sucked my earlobe into his mouth, his hand riding higher and higher up my thigh.
“Tilt your hips forward,” he whispered, and when I did, he filled me with two fingers. I gasped, my eyes fluttering closed. “And don’t crash.”
My eyes snapped open again.
With his fingers still dancing inside me, Rhodes kissed and sucked the sensitive skin of my neck, making it practically impossible to keep my focus on the road. The sun hadn’t even completely set yet, but the Range Rover had illegally dark tinted windows, which almost eliminated my concern that passing cars would get a peek of the show. For once, I was thankful for Dale’s obsession with his cars.
“It’s a good thing you’re not wearing panties,” Rhodes breathed, withdrawing his fingers slowly before thrusting them inside once more. “Because they would definitely be soaked now.”
I moaned, biting my lower lip with enough pressure to draw blood. Rhodes’ eyes caught the motion and he snaked in to replace my teeth with his own. I was trying so desperately to pay attention to the road, but his mouth was everywhere and his fingers were relentlessly pushing me closer to the release I was anxious to find.
My hands shook on the wheel. My breaths were labored. Adrenaline pumped through my veins as if I’d stolen the car we were driving. My core was tight, my legs tense, and I could feel myself on the brink of desire.
Rhodes maneuvered his left arm from where it had been holding him up on the console and he gripped the bottom of the steering wheel. “Hit the cruise control.”
I did as he said before snapping my hands right back into position. I was squirming in his hand, moans ripping from my throat.
“You’re not going to come unless you let go.”
Glancing at him through heavy eyelids, I blanched when I realized what he meant.
“I can’t,” I started, but his thumb found my clit and I moaned instead of finishing my sentence.
“Trust me. I’ve got the wheel. Let go, Natalie.”
I hesitated, but slowly, my hands fell down the sides of the wheel. One gripped the door while the other rested on top of where his was between my thighs. Pushing him into me with more force, I ground my hips against his palm under mine, finding the perfect friction to send me spiraling. My eyes closed, my lips parted, and I fell. It was a release unlike any I’d had before — quick, electric, forbidden.
Incredible.
When I opened my eyes again, I jerked my hands back into place on the wheel, realizing Rhodes was only steering with his left hand. He held it steady, but my sated mind was still afraid of losing control.
Rhodes only smirked, slowly removing his fingers before lifting them to his lips. My breath caught as he slid them inside his mouth, sucking my desire off his skin. I was still panting, my mind racing with what we’d just done.
Leaning back in his seat, Rhodes fastened his seatbelt and didn’t say another word.
Ten minutes later, we pulled into the parking lot of LaRue’s, a small beach-front restaurant known for its high-end dining experience. Dale and Mom liked to eat there at least once a month, and usually while there was a special event or show. I was hoping to give Rhodes a more hands-on introduction.
“We can’t eat here,” Rhodes said, shaking his head as I put the Rover in park. He was staring up at the restaurant logo with wide eyes. I straightened out the slightly wrinkled fabric of my dress, heart still racing.
“We’re not just eating here.”
Rhodes cocked his head, questioning.
“We’re cooking here.”
Before he could ask questions, I hopped out of the car and made my way toward the entrance. I tried to hide the smile on my face as he jogged to catch up to me just as the tall glass and mahogany door gently swung open.
“Good evening, Miss Poxton,” the gentleman holding the door greeted. He was tall, with skin as dark as Willow’s and bright hazel eyes. “Always a pleasure to see you.”
