I don’t want to move.

Partly I’m completely spent, a jello blob. My muscles refuse to coagulate the strength to lift me up from Rand’s chest. Or perhaps I just don’t want to tear myself away from being so divinely skin to skin with him. My cheek is hot against his hard muscle and I can hear the deep steady beat of his heart even though it’s on the other side from where I’m resting.

I can’t separate myself from this man. It’s like I’ve been glued to him through the pores of our skin. The aroma of his masculinity mixes with our passion and I also inhale the deeper scent of his sweat, the grease he works with every day. It’s the most delicious thing I’ve ever smelled. My clit engorges again, greedy for him but I’m still a jellyfish lying on my rock, basking in the divine calm after the orgasmic storm.

“Why aren’t we tucked up in a bed together so I could fall asleep like this?” I murmur.

I want to wake up and have Rand inside me again whenever I want him.

“I want that too,” he says, curling a strand of my hair round and round his thick finger.

“If I don’t go home my father will be so upset.”

Damn did I say that out loud? I only meant to think on the workaround for that problem.

“I’ll take you home, sweetheart,” Rand says.

Sweetheart.

Such a honeyed name coming off his rough mouth. My pussy pulsates with eager remembrance of his forceful tongue plunging deep into me. His rough stubble like a low grade of sandpaper gritting across my spread folds. Just enough friction to incite the most delicious trembling all the way through me.

How do I tell him I want to stay with him?

What if he’s decided he’s had the little rich girl, defiled her and is now ready to roll over and crash?

He slides one strap up over my shoulder and helps my liquefied limbs as I struggle to sit up. Then his impressive abs lift him up to sitting and he pulls my legs behind him so I’m sitting on his lap again. With his dick brushing my folds, my body lights up immediately. I think I could want this man constantly. Whatever it is he does to my body, I want it all the time. More and more. I can’t imagine feeling this electricity with anyone else.

He tips his head forward to tongue my nipple. Then bites the point until it engorges eagerly and then swirls the hard bullet on his tongue like fine claret.

“I fucking love your body, Caila.”

He looks up at me with a grin then carefully brings my dress up to cover my bare breasts. He gives one mound another squeeze through the fabric and bites the bobbing point, like he’s bingeing on me and can’t ever get his fill either.

“Yours is pretty hot too,” I reply, trying not to sound too sulky. I don’t like feeling this young.

If I were a grown woman, that is one that lived in her own place and had a real job, I wouldn’t have to be taken home to my parent like this. I could sleep wherever I chose.

“I guess you have work tomorrow,” I say as he jumps down then lifts me from the flatbed. He takes my hand to walk me to the front of the cab.

“It’s Wednesday, so...”

“Right. Hump day.”

“Hump day?”

“You know mid-week. Over the hump and it’s all downhill to the weekend.”

“Do you have plans on the weekend?”

A kaleidoscope of butterflies lifts off in my stomach.

“We could do something, if you’re free,” he adds.

Oh god, please. Fuck yes.

“Something like we just did,” I ask, cheekily.

It’s starting to rain. Rand opens the door for me just as a screech of tires pulls up on the main street. My eyes naturally bat in that direction and the butterflies crash to earth when I see Boone’s black Camaro. My ex climbs out of the car and strides toward us.

Not again.

“Boone what are you doing here?” I say. “Go away.”

“Your father told me you went out to dinner,” he barks. “He thought you were with me. He said he wouldn't have let you leave the house unless he thought you were with me. I’ve driven around every fucking restaurant in town looking for you.”

“Why? It’s none of your business where I’m eating or who I’m dating.”

It’s true. While I didn’t exactly lie to my dad I didn’t contradict his belief that I was dining out with my reformed ex.

Rand’s heavy hand slides into the small of my back, both comforting and protective.

“I told you, we’re done,’ I insist as forcefully as I can in my jellied state. “That’s never gonna change.”

“I get that,” Boone shouts, “but I don’t want you out with this animal and nor does your father.”

“You told him?” I wail.

Shit. I wanted to be the one to break it to him.

“I told him I had a pretty good idea based on the ridiculous thing you’ve got for this low life.”

“Get in the car, baby,” Rand tells me.

I do as he says. I know from experience there’s no point arguing with Boone. I sure had enough experience with that and how he just flips everything I ever said right back on me until I feel like a dog chasing its tail round in circles.

Boone says something to Rand as he walks around the front of the cab to the driver’s side. I notice he’s not remotely bothered by my ex’s remarks, or the way he tries to block his path for a showdown. He simply sweeps him to the side and steps past. I can’t make out what Boone’s saying to him, even though he’s pretty mad. Rand gets into the cab and Boone steps back from the truck. As though he’s afraid Rand might knock him down again.

Rand is livid though as he starts the engine and pulls away. His jaw is wired shut, flexing in fury as though it’s taken all his effort to hold back. Boone is in the street, banging on the hood, calling something out to me, his eyes all lunatic wild.

I feel embarrassed for him. I know he doesn’t really love me as much as this behavior would indicate. He’s just obsessing over losing proprietorial control. That too was an imagined stance as he never really held that over me but that didn’t stop his fantasy.

He steps away, his gaze fills with fear as Rand floors the gas. I know he’s a great driver but Boone leaps away like he’s terrified Rand’s going to mow him down.

“Sorry about that,” I whisper once we turn the corner.

“It’s not your fault,” Rand grits out through compressed lips.

“He’ll get over it.”

Rand just nods, emits a low sound from his lips. Something raw, almost as though he’s in pain.

“He’s probably right,” he says at last.

“Right about what?” I say, leaping ready to disagree if he’s going to take anything Boone said as gospel.

“That I’m not good enough for you.”

“That’s horseshit and you know it. A man can’t be measured by what he does or earns.”

“Can’t he?”

“Rand, what is it? You aren't going to let my idiot ex tear apart our evening?”

“It was beautiful, what we had.”

A shiver goes through my heart as he says that with a sort of finality.

“So forget about Boone,” I plead.

“Oh, I have, but I doubt you will.”

“Honestly, I’m not attached to him in an way. If you think this between us is some rebound thing, or me trying to piss him or my father off like a rebellious little brat, you’ve got me all wrong,” I need to convince him.

“I don’t think that about you at all Caila. I think you’re incredible. Your mind, your passion, your body, I love all of it. This has been the best night of my life and I don’t give a shit if that’s a pussy thing to say.”

“It isn’t,” I say.

I need to try drawing him out on what’s put so much distance between us but it’s like Rand’s retreated into a cave. In the end I just leave it, thinking I’ll give him time to cool off, get centered again and let him see I’m not that girl. My interest in him is genuine. It goes beyond a steamy fuck with the dirty local mechanic.

We turn into my street and we’re just a few doors from my house, when a raccoon darts into the street. Rand throws on the brakes hard. I’m thrown forward on my seat belt and his arm flies up to protect me.

“Sorry,” he blurts out. “I’m a little jumpy. Are you okay.”

“I’m fine.”

He sits motionless as though he’s still stunned. And then I think maybe he’s waiting for me to get out.

“Could you drop me in front of the house, please,” I say.

Now’s the time for Rand to see that I am not ashamed to be seen with a blue collar man. If my father knows about this, if Boone did tell him, then he’ll have to deal with it.

Rand is still silent, staring through the windscreen like he’s witnessed some horror.

“It’s raining,” I say, touching his arm.

He looks confused at that. He’s not the sort of man that carries an umbrella with him. Something like rain he’d just let roll off those huge shoulders.

It takes a bit of effort for him to pull himself together. He edges the car forward, keeping his eyes fixed firmly ahead. When he rolls to a stop, leaving the engine running, I lean over to kiss him. He allows me his cheek and that’s all. I guess he’s worried in case my father is waiting up.

“See you soon then?” I press.

He doesn’t reply. He waves his huge hand, grunts out a goodnight and drives off.