"That's it, baby," he continues, his tone almost soothing, despite the filth spilling from his lips. "Take my cock. Take all of it."
Baby.
My belly flutters, my heart soaring like a fool even though I know it's a runaway utterance. A thoughtless spi...
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He turns his attention back to me once more, breaking the ice but thankfully also without bringing up the very obvious pink elephant in the room.
"Wait here, I'll bring my car around," he says, already walking away.
"Didn't you have a valet park it for you?" I ask.
"No," he says simply. "I don't like other people touching my car."
I sigh and shake my head. "Oh lord, you're one of those guys?"
He looks at me incredulously, his brow arched. "What guys?"
"You know, those car-obsessive type guys," I explain.
He just gives me a confused look.
"Never mind," I finally say, waving it off.
He's only gone for a few minutes, and when he comes back, he's rolling up to me in a sleek, silver two-seater Bentley.
I move toward the car warily, but he quickly gets out and walks over to my side, popping my door open for me and waiting on me to go inside. I get in slowly, trying to figure out the best strategy to get seated without baring my entire ass for him and the entire world to see.
I struggle to sit in the low car, and my dress rides up again in typically trashy dress fashion, riding up my thigh to reveal the top of my thigh-high pantyhose and my garter belt. In horror, I realize I'm basically flashing him, and I pull at the hem frantically as I adjust myself in the seat, refusing to let the hem of my dress go for fear that it's going to end up riding up all the way above my waist if left to its own deeds.
I clutch the front of his jacket around me furiously in an attempt to insulate myself from any further flashing and the sheer embarrassment that comes with it. I think I catch him grinning when he shuts my door, but it could just be in my head.
He gets back into the car, and I can't help but notice the difference in our seats. His is pushed as far back as it can go while mine is much further ahead. His body completely fills the seat, and his legs look so much longer.
It's a two-seater, but it looks pretty sizable, certainly comfortable enough for him and big enough to support his large frame. It almost looks like it was customized especially for him. I wouldn't be surprised, given the kind of company he clearly keeps.
I buckle in my seat belt, hearing the soft click of the metal being secured, but when I look over to him and don't see him doing the same, I can't help but arch my brows.
"Aren't you going to strap up?" I ask.
"Seat belts make me feel claustrophobic," he simply says, as if that's a perfectly normal excuse for someone to not wear their seat belt.
"Are you kidding me? You're a frickin' doctor!" I say, flailing my hands for emphasis. "You tell people not to smoke or drink and you won't even wear your seat belt?"
He simply shrugs.
"Unbelievable," I mutter, sinking into the back rest. Whatever. If he wants to chance dying 'cause he won't do something as simple as wear a stupid little seat belt, then that's on him.
We drive in silence for a while, and I flip through a few stations in an attempt to make the ride a little less awkward.
There aren't really any good radio signals this far out in the city, so I settle for the least offensive country music I can find, maintaining my end of the silence while keeping my eyes on the stretch of dirt road through my window.
"You work for Minderah now?" Frost asks suddenly, his deep voice easily overshadowing the mediocre music in the background, but his eyes remain on the road ahead.
"I'm not exactly sure yet," I say, before quickly turning my head to face his serious profile. "And her full name is Minderah?"
He arches his brow, but his attention remains on the windshield.
"You know, I really think it would be in your best interest to at least know the name of your potential employer," he says, and the copious amount of sarcasm in his voice is not at all lost on me.
I don't have to take this B.S., especially from him. He doesn't know me or what my situation is.
I don't want to ask, and I'm doing my best to just bite my tongue and leave it alone, but as much as I don't want to sound bothered or concerned by the fact that he knows her— seemingly well, actually—I can't stop myself from asking.
"So...you and Mindy—I mean, Minderah—know each other, huh?"
I'm trying really hard to come off like I'm just making casual conversation and not sound as annoyed as I feel, even though I know I have no reason to feel annoyed in the first place.
"Yeah, we go way back," he simply says.
I'm sure you do.
"How far back?" I don't know why I'm asking. I really just wish I would keep my mouth shut.
"Med school," he says.
My eyes go wide instantly. "Mindy went to med school?!" I sit up at hearing this surprising news, and the shock is all too apparent in my voice.
"Yes," he says. His tone is nonchalant, but he keeps giving me these monosyllabic answers, and I need more than that. I want him to elaborate, but I also don't want to sound nosy and bothered by whatever history he and Mindy may or may not have. Besides, it's really none of my business who he hangs around or does anything with, anyway.
I don't say anything for the rest of the ride except to give him a few directions and tell him where to turn when we approach my side of the city.
***
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