Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 98612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
I realize he must think I’m anxious, so I follow his instructions, shifting the truck into gear and tapping lightly on the gas pedal, sort of like I would when I’m driving a tractor. He lets me get the feel for the gas and the brakes by circling the wide-open driveway a few times. Every time I hit the brake, the truck lurches to a stop, gravel spitting from the tires. At first it’s not purposeful—the brakes on his truck are particularly touchy—but I’m having fun watching RJ be so attentive and concerned, so I keep doing it.
“Sorry.” I bite back a smile when he not-so-subtly braces a hand on the dash.
“You’re doing great—you just need to get a feel for how sensitive the gas and brake pedals are. Kinda like when I go down on you. If I want to make you come fast and hard, I need to hit your buttons like I mean it, but if I want to drag it out, then I’m gentle. Same principle.”
I cock a brow. “Is this whole driving lesson going to be explained in sexual analogies?”
He grins and shrugs. “Seemed like a good comparison.”
I roll my eyes but take his advice, barely tapping the gas when I want to speed up and gently moving to the brake when I want to stop. It’s actually a pretty accurate analogy. Eventually I make my way down the long driveway. When I reach the main road, my nerves become real. While it’s not a busy road, logging and transport trucks use it frequently, and the speed limit is higher than I’m usually comfortable with.
RJ stretches his arm across the backrest and gives my neck a reassuring squeeze. “You got this. Just take it slow, and you’ll be fine.”
The road is clear of traffic, no one coming in either direction. As far as “learning” to drive goes, this is probably ideal. I signal left, toward town, and ease out of the driveway. I’m currently only doing about twenty-five miles an hour, much lower than the posted speed limit. I check the rearview mirror. “What happens if someone comes up behind me?”
“You can always pull over and let them pass. Give it a bit more gas, gorgeous.” The pet name warms me from the inside.
I do as he instructs until I reach about forty-five miles an hour. “How do people drive on the freeway when everyone is going this fast and they’re all so close to each other?”
“You get used to it. You’re doing great.”
I like the praise, so I keep easing the speedometer up until I’m going the posted speed limit. “This is a rush!” I tell RJ.
He laughs. “It’s fun, right?”
“It is!” I glance over at him, taking my eyes off the road for a split second. Or maybe it’s a little longer than a split second, because when I shift my focus back to the road, a little red squirrel is bounding across the pavement. “Oh shoot!” I put on the brakes, tires squealing as the tiny rodent freezes. No one is coming in the other direction, so I swerve around it, managing to avoid turning him into a pancake. A few minutes later I pull into the parking lot of the pharmacy without additional animals playing chicken with the truck.
RJ reaches for the door handle. “I’ll be right back, unless you want to come in with me?”
“Um, I’m okay to wait in the truck.”
He leans over, drops a kiss on my cheek, and jumps out. As soon as he’s inside the store, I unbuckle my seat belt and switch to the passenger seat. Five minutes later RJ leaves the store as a blonde woman dressed in skintight jeans and a fitted sweater is about to go inside. She looks like she belongs in a commercial for perfect hair. Perfect everything, actually. I immediately hate her when she smiles at RJ in a way that tells me she appreciates what she sees.
His eyes flare, and for a moment his gaze shifts to the truck. He accepts a hug from her, and a tight feeling settles in my stomach as she runs her hands down his arms. It’s familiar. I don’t like it. She glances down at the bag, a coy smile on her lips as she tries to peek inside.
When he moves it behind his back, she flips her blonde hair over her shoulder and grabs the lapels of his down vest. RJ’s expression hardens, and he shakes his head, prying her fingers from his vest. Her expression shifts from friendly to irritated.
RJ motions to the truck. Her gaze follows his, and her eyes widen. I look down at my lap, suddenly uncomfortable. RJ said he’s been coming here for years. I’m not the only woman to notice how attractive he is, and based on how good he is in bed, I’m definitely not the only woman to experience his skill set there.