I don't blame her, my sister is a lot to handle, but it's not like she's dangerous.“What was that little side conversation in the hall about anyway?” she asks cautiously.
Ugh, my sister. I don't want to talk about her right now.
“You know what, screw my sister, she isn't here right now. This lunch is for you. It's my treat for all the incredible work you've been doing.”
Dalia grins, relaxing a little into the seat. “I appreciate it, I really do, but you know you don't have to take me out to lunch to show it, right?”
“I know, but I want to.” My eyes are on hers, trying to read her. “Is that wrong? Do you not want to go out to lunch?”
“No, that's not it. It's not wrong, Lyle, but if you think all I care about is money and expensive things, then you really don't know me at all.” Dalia moves her hands to her lap, and starts drumming her fingers.
“Tell me then, tell me what you care about.”
Her eyes meet mine. They move around my face as her fingers keep moving. She looks like she's about to tell me, and then she stops. “It doesn't really matter.” Shaking her head, she drops her eyes back to her lap.
“Yes it does,” I say, urging her to tell me everything that just went through her head. “I want to know.”
Dalia moves her eyes back to mine, her face flat. “You really want to know?” she asks, so I nod, urging her to keep going. “All right, it's going to sound corny, but, gestures matter. Kindness matters, intent. . .” Pausing, her voice lowers as she whispers under her breath. “Love—”
Dalia stops breathing, every muscle in her body goes stiff as her eyes snap to mine.
I keep my eyes on her, letting what she said sink in. Chuckling, I reach out my hand to touch her face.
She jerks away slightly, stunned and not expecting it. But then she relaxes as my thumb sweeps across her jaw, and my fingers trace the curve up to her ear. Dalia shivers, and that shiver zips through the pads of my fingers and down my arm, hitting my chest like a lightning bolt.
Pinching her chin between my thumb and forefinger, I pull her face in as I move in closer. Our lips touch, and she exhales. Her cool breath scales down my chin and across my cheeks.
I watch her, keeping my eyes open as she closes hers. Her movements are delicate, almost unnoticeable. But I see them.
I see her. I've always seen her. Even when she thought no one was looking, I always was.
Her lips part as my fingers move across her neck and dig into her hair. Coiling her thick locks around my hand, I tug her head back.
“You know you're lucky,” I say against her mouth as I kiss her back.
“Oh yeah,” she says with a small smile. “And why's that?”
“Because you're getting way better sex with me now, than you would have back when we were in school.”
Dalia giggles, nibbling on my bottom lip. “I think that's probably true. No one is good in bed when they're teenagers. But. . .” she says slowly, walking her fingers up the center of my shirt. Pinching the corner of my collar, she pulls on it. “You're a man now, so I shouldn't need to teach you anything.”
Arching one of my eyebrows, I pull away slightly. She laughs again, grabbing my shirt with two hands, and yanking me back in for another kiss.
I can't tell her no. I know I should. I know if my sister ever finds out about us, Dalia is screwed. Sandy will make her life a living fucking nightmare. If Dalia thinks high school was rough, she'll never be able to handle Sandy now.
Ruthless. Cutthroat. Sandy doesn't see people, she doesn't see feelings, she doesn't see the hurt she causes along the way. All Sandy sees are obstacles and dollar signs. You don't want to be that obstacle, because she'll tear you the fuck down, and not look back.
“Where'd you go?” she asks, leaning back, and looking up at me.
“What?” I ask. It takes a second for her question to register, but I answer her before she has to ask me again. “Oh, nowhere, I was just trying to figure out if my backseat is big enough for me to fuck you in.”
She looks behind us, then down at my lap. “I think we have plenty of room right here.”
“Right here?” Looking around the full parking lot, I shake my head. “I don't know if that's a good idea. What if someone sees us?”
Like my sister.
“You weren't worried about that while you were eating me out.” Her smile thickens as she climbs over the center console and onto my lap.I don't stop her. I don't want to stop her. I've wanted to fuck this girl since the first time I jerked off. She's been my wet dream.
And now that I've had her, all I want is more.
Spreading her legs around my hips, she starts to pull at my belt. “Fuck it,” I say, “If someone comes through, they can watch.”
The idea excites me. Someone watching us as we fuck, the danger of being caught, the voyeur in the shadows. It's a fucking turn on.
Slipping my hand between the seat and the door, I push the button, reclining back to give her more room.
I love this version of Dalia. This version is a risk taker and it's fucking hot as hell. My dick is stiff, painfully pushing against my zipper, waiting for her to free it. She fiddles with the belt for a second, then I feel the tension release as she unbuttons my pants.
“Someone's excited already,” she says, her voice sultry and smooth.
“That's because of you.” Digging my fingers into her hips, I squeeze hard as I lift my hips up. “You make me fucking hard, you always have.”
Her skin
