17. Nikki

17

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"Well, dammit."

How can I be this mad yet want to grin ear to ear?

"Go on. Let me have it," Alex says again.

I reach up and grab the strings on his hoodie and wrap them around my palms while I look him in the eyes, my tongue poking the inside of my cheek.

"How can I let you have it when you hit me with a speech like that? Gah! Fine." I shake the strings against him and look to the side, where a few people are peeking through the Patty's door. "You really just told all those people you were about to take me to bed."

"I did," he says.

"Welp"—I let the P pop. I shift my eyes back to him—"Wouldn't want to let them down."

His fucking dimple appears. I step into him, lifting on my toes, and his hands clutch the sides of my head as his mouth crashes into mine. It's a hungry kiss, and it's possessive. A public declaration that borders on an R rating by the time he pulls away. A whistle in the distance draws our attention, and Cole cups his mouth and shouts, "Yeah, buddy!"

My palm nudges Alex's focus back to me.

"I assume he meant that for me," I say, and his raspy laugh is the sexiest sound I've heard, maybe ever.

"I love you, too, by the way," I say, dropping into the passenger seat. He gives me a crooked smile as he hangs on the door.

"Yeah? You saying I was right?"

"Tsssk, always so cocky," I tease. "I loved you first, so no. I'm not saying that at all."

His head waggles side to side.

"Kinda feels like I called it, though," he says, one eye squinted, a playful arrogance in his expression.

I reach toward him and cup his hard-on, which seems to get his attention.

"I mean, you were first. And right. You ready?" He closes my door without waiting for my answer, and when he slips into the driver's seat, I put my hand right back where it was. And Alex, he blows through his first red light and gets pulled over about twenty seconds from home.

I bite my thumb while he fumbles through his glove box under the beam of the officer's mega flashlight.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, knowing this is my fault.

"It's fine. I just need my, oh . . . yeah . . . there it is," he says, pulling a pile of papers out and sifting through them in my lap. I start to giggle, and he hushes me, but there's a smirk on his face. I'm glad he's finding the humor in this too.

He finds his registration finally and hands it to the officer.

"I'll be right back," she says, and heads back to her car to run his ID.

"Oh, my God!" I break out in a whisper once we're in the clear. Alex leans his elbow on the window sill and covers his face while he laughs.

"I swear to God, Nikki, if this lady makes me get out and walk a straight line, I am screwed."

I bunch my brow at him but then realize what he means. His workout pants are sporting an enormous bulge. I'm a little impressed that the panic of being pulled over didn't ruin things for him.

"Shh! Shh! She's coming back," I say as I stare out the back window.

"Mr. Mendoza?"

"Yes, ma'am."

The officer leans in, a move I assume is partly a smell test to see if he's been drinking. Her eyes meet mine and I freeze, offering what I hope looks like a guilty smile. A few long seconds pass, and I'm not one hundred percent on this, but I think she got the picture.

"Here's your license. Put this back in the glove box. Maybe clean that out, too," she says, shining her light on the pile of papers strewn around the console.

"Yes, ma'am," Alex says, his hands shaking while he puts his license back in place.

"Pay attention. I know there aren't a lot of people on the street right now, but people aren't always easy to see. Red lights are there for a reason." She pats the top of the car and moves on.

"Yes, thank you. Thank you, officer. Than?—"

I grab his wrist.

"She got it." We look at each other for a beat, then bust into more laughter.

Once I shove Alex's paper collection back into the glove box and the cop pulls away, he drives us the rest of the way to his house, never going a mile over the speed limit. When he slips the gear into park, though, he's all about speed, darting out of the car and flinging my door open. He grabs my hand and tugs me to my feet, not bothering to carry me this time. He doesn't have to. At this point, he can race me up those stairs.

We're in his bedroom with the door closed in seconds, and our clothes are in a pile on the floor a few breaths later. This time feels different. It feels familiar and spontaneous. Like two people in love, making love.

I lay back in the center of his bed and Alex takes my foot in his hand, caressing it and kissing the top. He crawls onto the bed, on his knees, still holding my leg and kissing the inside of my calf next.

"You have really sexy legs, you know that?" He sets my right leg down and pulls my knees up, running his hands over both of them, then sliding them down the insides of my thighs. He comes close to touching me but backs off, and I whimper.

"Always so anxious," he teases.

"You really like my legs?" I never really think much of them myself. He traces along my shins then lets his hands roam the same path again, this time letting the tips of his fingers tease my swollen center for the briefest of seconds. I lift my hips and he pulls away.

"I love your legs, Nikki," he says, bending down to kiss my knee before pushing my legs apart, flattening them on the bed.

"I love hearing you say that word," I hum.

Love. Love. Love. Love.

"Good," he says, "because I love a lot of things about you."

He lowers himself, settling between my legs and kissing the inside of my thigh. He tickles my skin with his knuckles then moves to the other leg, doing the same.

"I love this part of you right here," he says, his tongue taking a small taste. "You have these freckles that line up, they look like the Little Dipper," he says, tracing the constellation with his fingertip. I writhe, wanting him to move his finger higher.

"Yeah?" I let out in a soft cry.

"Mmm hmm," he says, kissing me there again.

"And I love this part of you, right here," he says, resting his wrists on my hip bones and brushing his fingertips along the small trail of hair that I am so thankful I spent time on this morning.

"Yeah?" I cry, lifting my hips. He quickly presses them back down.

"Yeah," he answers, sliding his body upward enough to press a kiss on my pelvis.

"And your belly button, and this stud that I called stupid," he says, tapping it with his finger.

I lift my head and look him in the eyes. They crinkle and I know he's smiling. I can't see his mouth, though, because it's too busy being so fucking close to where I want it.

"And your . . ." He exhales, his breath tickling my pussy. I moan just before his tongue flicks my clit, then yelp in pleasure.

"Yeah, I love this pussy, Nikki. I fucking love the way it tastes," he says, taking a more forceful pass with his tongue this time. My eyes roll back, and I drop my head back to the bed.

"I love the way it gets so swollen when you think about me," he says, pushing a finger inside.

"Alex," I moan.

He pushes in a second finger and licks my clit.

"And I love the way you say my name when I taste this pussy," he says, his mouth moving against me.

"Alex," I say again, hoping to be rewarded.

He pulls his fingers out and sucks me in, his tongue punishing my clit and forcing me to whimper for relief.

"I love how wet you get for me," he says, lifting up to his knees again.

I bring my knees up and lift my hips, hoping . . . wanting. Begging.

Alex grips his cock and slides the tip up and down the length of my pussy, teasing me and almost entering me several times until, finally, he pulls my legs up with his arms and pushes in.

"Ahhh!" I gasp.

"Fuck, do I love this view," he says, sliding out slowly.

"What view?" I ask, wanting to hear the filthy words fall from his lips.

He pushes in again, harder. Deeper.

"My cock in your pussy," he says, pulling out completely. He teases me more with his finger, then shoves in again with his penis. I push my hips up to meet him.

"I love your cock in my pussy, too," I say, urging him to move more.

I grip the bedding at my sides and lift my chin, meeting his eyes as his hips thrust back and forth. His hands hold my legs as he pumps into me faster and we chase our release. I feel mine building and I buck my hips, wanting him to drive in deeper.

The sound of skin on skin fills the room as his body smacks against mine, his cock hitting me so deep and hard that I lose my breath when the first wave hits. My body quakes from the way he punishes my pussy, relentless and hungry. As I peak, he drops my legs and shifts me so he can cage me between his arms and thrust into me with more force, filling me with his hot cum then collapsing on top of me from sheer, wonderful exhaustion.

I run my fingertips along his sticky back, his skin slick with sweat. I kiss his shoulder and taste the salt. He lifts his head and brushes my hair from my face, then sucks in my upper lip.

"I love that fucking lip too, by the way," he says.

I suck it in and he instantly pulls it out.

"No. Never hide that. That lip is the reason I fell in love with you."

My eyes pull in.

"My . . . lip? All of this"—I run my hand along my side from hip to ear—"and you like the lip."

He presses a soft kiss to it again and shakes his head.

"No, Nikki. I love the lip. And I love you."

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