Gunsmoke » B. Hargrove

fifteen

"I don't need your help."

Billy grinned at her, gentle wrinkles forming at the corners of his baby blues as a thick brow raised. "Oh yeah?" His hand disappears from her skin and returns to his own lap, her body all too aware of the sudden loss of contact and Zara shifted uncomfortably in her seat—too prideful to admit she wanted it back. "Don't get all pouty on me now. You said you didn't need my help, so handle that on your own."

He's mostly joking, almost positive that Zara Sinclair is nowhere near confident to get herself off in front of him, especially while he's still driving but he's sorely mistaken and quickly humbled. Billy can barely keep his eyes on the road when his peripheral catches her hands sliding under the fabric of her skirt. They return a few seconds later after a bit of shifting her in her seat and soon a pair of panties are thrown at his face. Billy's hands are quick to pick them up, bunching the pale pink material in his palms and shoved it to his nose. His eyes roll back and Zara's a giggling mess beside him when his car surges forward unexpectedly, his foot like lead on the gas petal in his moment of distraction. "If you kill us then you won't get to watch the show."

Her words do little to calm him down even if he regains control of his limbs, his brain fog clearing up just enough to remember how to maintain the speed limit. "I won't kill us." Billy remarked just barely above a whisper. "Keep going."

He's too focused on the way her hand slides up the length of her thigh just like he had earlier, his tongue running over the bottom of his lip as her leg raised to rest on the middle space between them. He thinks he finally has everything under control when he glanced over once more, his cock jumping so hard in his jeans at the sight of her bare pussy spread open and exposed for him. Zara was fucking soaked, her fingers reaching down to collect up her arousal before smearing it all over with a whimper.

"Fuck," He groaned aloud in return, his car stopping fully as he pulled over in an instant. It looked a bit odd, some random car just stopped haphazardly on the side of the road and judging by the tininess of the town, it was inevitable for at least one car to stop and check if they were okay; but he'd cross that bridge when he came to it.

Now with the car in park, Billy was able to fully appreciate the show Zara was putting on for him. Her fingers rubbing circles in the puffy bump of her clit, sweet moans and gentle "o's" tumbling from her lips.

He holds onto his restraint longer than he anticipated, a needy hand reaching out to touch her when Zara's hand darted out to smack it; her legs closing immediately and Billy laughs. He fucking laughs, so soft and sweet that it shoots right up Zara's spine as if she'd been electrocuted. She'd been panting like a fucking dog, her chest rising up and down so fast you'd have thought they'd already fucked; both spent and empty but that wasn't the case. Not even close. Not as her arousal steadily dropped into a pathetic puddle onto the dark leather seat of his car. "I don't think I remember giving you permission to touch."

"That's because I didn't fucking ask." Her permission is granted in pliant body language, her legs dropping open and hips pushing forward to the accept Billy's fingers. He's skilled, Zara realizes immediately as he finds her throbbing clit quickly with a sure swipe of her slit. His thumb hooked gently at the swell of her bundle of nerves, her breath nothing but sharp intakes as her brows furrowed and eyes bore into his with want. "I like you like this," He begins cockily, his voice sure and steady as his wet thumb trails lazy circles on her; he barely acknowledged the shake of her thighs or the way her head falls back on the passenger window. She's writhing with want, her barely controlled breathing morphing into sensual mewls as he picks up the pace, a knot beginning to form deep in her belly. "Zara Sinclair all shaky and spread out for me like some cock-hungry slut."

Okay, that was hot.

Not to compare but in all her weeks of screwing Steve Harrington, it was nothing like this. Billy was rough and took what he wanted without a second thought, inserting one—two fingers deep in her cunt, groaning aloud at the obscene sound of her slick. "Please," Zara begged, her hips rutting forward, begging for more friction, more fingers, more him, just more.

"God, you look so pretty when you beg." Billy's fingers barely speed up, pumping in and out of her tight little hole at a pace that only sent chill-bumps down her skin even in Hawkins never ending heatwave. "Do it some more."

"Billy please don't tease. I can't take it."

His movements stop altogether and a shit-eating grin spread across his handsome face and Zara wanted nothing more than to shove it between her thighs to shut him up. "You can't take it? Well, why did you say that, pretty girl? I don't wanna give you more than you can handle."

"That's not what I meant," She whined, her eyes squeezing shut in frustration. Tears welled up at the brim of her waterline, her hands grasping uselessly at the fabric of her skirt as Billy simply watched. A clammy hand wrapped around his wrist, his fingers still stuffed inside her as she manually pushed his thick fingers deeper. "Just please, Billy. I need you to make me cum."

"You need me to?"

Their eyes meet, a single tear pushing past to drip down her cheek as she huffed out a response, not even worried about how embarrassed she should feel—begging the hottest boy in Hawkins to fuck her. "Please, I'm fucking begging you."

Billy's answer is immediate, his fingers fucking into her dripping sex with ease. "So fucking wet for me." He's not wrong, her wetness is pouring from her pussy like water from a spout; the scent of her cunt permeating the air around him and sending his senses into a fucking frenzy. Zara was shaking like a leaf, her back arched and knuckles white as they gripped onto the hem of her skirt like her life depended on it. Sweet moans tumbled from her lips, barely audible 'thank yous' and 'please don't stops' tumbling from her mouth like a fucking pornstar.

He hits a particularly squishy spot when the tips of his fingers and Zara is like putty in his grasp. "That's so fucking good," She sobbed, her hips bucking in tandem with each shift of his fingers and Billy swears if he had a fucking camera he'd take thousands of pictures of her just like this. Her mouth was parted open, hair mussed and a thin sheen of sweat dotted at her hairline as she chased her orgasm. "Right there, please Billy. You're doing so good—so fucking good."

Billy's cock was straining in his jeans and every time Zara Sinclair praised him it fueled his fire; igniting a flame even more ravaging than the one before it. "Say my name again."

Zara's close, he can tell by the way her cunt is clamping around his fingers like a fucking vice grip and her moans have turned into desperate whines. "Billy, I'm gonna—"

"I know," His hands disappear seconds before her orgasm reaches its peak and the groan Zara lets out is genuinely pathetic. "—but I'm fucking starving pretty girl, so you'll just have to wait until I finish eating." Billy brings his soaked fingers to his mouth, making a show if licking it up while staring directly into her eyes. "Buckle up."

And he fucking drove off, continuing the drive to Connie's Diner as if nothing happened.

As I said, Billy Hargrove is a goddamned tease.