Bloodline [h.s.]

eighteen.

"It's too embarrassing. It doesn't even matter. I'm just annoyed." I brushed it off.

"You don't have to be embarrassed. Tell me. I'm curious, now." He whined. The argument really wasn't as deep as it was mortifying. Then again, I was also easily mortified.

"Do you think I'm boring?" I asked sheepishly. I looked down, afraid of his answer.

"No, of course not. Why would you think that?"

"She said that my anxiety has made me so boring and uptight that, in her words, I probably don't have a single sexual bone left in my body." I mumbled reluctantly. The embarrassment burned in my cheeks as a chuckle escaped Jacob's lips.

"That is awful. Why would she say that to you?" He stifled his laugh. I shrugged.

"You aren't boring, Bridget. You are intelligent and analytical, which is often mistaken for boring and anxious. I, for one, find you to be incredibly sexy." He said with a playful grin on his face.

I blushed and looked away out the window, resisting the urge to jump out of the car and cringe myself into oblivion. Receiving compliments of any kind made me want to crawl out of my skin. It made me thankful it was too dark for him to see my face.

He kissed me as he came to a stop at a red light. When the light turned green, his hand remained firmly on my thigh even as he merged onto the freeway. There was an unusual amount of traffic, leaving us at glacial pace on the 101.

I zoned out for awhile until his hand moved to my inner thigh with one finger beneath the fabric of my skirt. A smirk emerged on his face as my cheeks turned pink.

"What are you doing?" I asked suspiciously. I bit down on my bottom lip to contain my smile.

"You would love to know, wouldn't you?" He shrugged.

"Yeah, that's kind of why I as—" I was cut off by my own gasp as he dragged his index finger against me.

I let out a shaky breath as he moved his hand away as the cars began moving a little. Each time the cars stopped his fingers glazed over the highest point on my inner thigh with the lightest ghost of a touch.

After the third time, I was so frustrated I could have cut off his hand. I started to resent the stop and slow of cars around us. My knees tightly squeezed together to suppress the pressure building in me. My teeth were clenched so hard that my jaw became sore. I wanted to pull my hair out or yank his hand back to the part of me aching for him, but my shyness kept me silent. Maybe Cara was right.

A couple miles later the traffic was at a standstill again. A familiar tingling sensation returned to my thigh when it became apparent the cars weren't going to move. His hand pushed my knees apart. Jacob's eyes remained on the road, pretending as though his actions were absentminded. My breath hitched as I felt the cold touch of his rings through my lace underwear.

"Jac— ah," I gasped and jolted at his fingers slowly stroking me. It wasn't until this that his eyes left the window to me.

"Would you like me to continue?" He asked like he  was doing the most innocent thing in the world. I nodded shyly.

"Need to her you say it, Bee." He teased, but meant it.

"Yes." I said breathlessly.