I come first, because I built myself up to it. A whimper escapes me and my entire body jerks. Blade captures my hair and tugs it softly as he uses his hips to drive up into me harder and faster, then with a guttural groan, he’s coming. Our noises of pleasure fill the tiny car space before slowly dying down into breathy pants. I slide off his lap and adjust myself before slipping back into my seat. Blade fixes himself up and drops his head back into the seat.
“Fuck me, you’ll be the death of me.”
“Grandpa,” I mutter.
He flashes me a wolfish grin before pulling back out onto the road and taking us to the garage.
I decide in that moment, that car sex is on my top five list of Best Places to Fuck.
~*~*~*~
When we arrive at the garage, I see Peyton standing just outside the large rollers doors. She’s wearing a yellow summer dress and has shades pulled down over her eyes. When she sees Blade’s car pull in, her head tilts towards us. Great. Just great. We both get out, and I hope to god it isn’t obvious that we’ve been having sex. Blade mumbles a few curses as we walk closer.
“Ah, hey Blade, Aria . . .” Peyton begins.
“What’re you doin’ here, Pey?” Blade snaps.
“I just wanted to talk to you,” she pleads.
My chest tightens but I say nothing. Blade turns to me. “Can you go inside, give me ten?”
Ouch.
“Sure. Nice to see you, Peyton.”
“You too, Ari.”
I disappear inside and rush into the office. I unlock it and close the door softly behind me. My heart aches with a pathetic jealousy that I shouldn’t have. He chose me, so why the hell am I so worried about her being out there? I sit for ten minutes, but Blade doesn’t come back in. I get out of my chair and carefully walk out towards the garage. I stop when I hear them talking.
I peer around to see them standing beside a car. He’s leaning against it with his arms crossed and she’s standing about a meter in front of him, arms flopping to the side. “Please, Blade, let me explain.”
“Don’t want to hear your fuckin’ lies, Pey.”
She drops her head. “He drugged me.”
Oh, she did not.
“Say what?”
“He drugged me. We went to lunch, as friends I swear. Midway through I started to feel funny, off even. It got worse and worse until I could hardly walk. He took me home, and I honestly don’t remember much after that.”
Is she lying? Or is she telling the truth? If she’s lying, then she’s a dog, but somehow, I think she’s telling the truth and that’s bad. It’s bad because Blade will then have to question himself, and everything we’re doing here. I feel sick, but I don’t move. I just watch.
“How do I know you’re not lyin’ to me?”
She shuffles about through her purse and pulls out a piece of paper, handing it to him. “I went to the doctor a few days ago, made them take my bloods, because I want to know what he gave me. If you read it, you can see that there were still levels of the drug in my system.”
Blade stares down at the paper and back up towards Peyton.
“Shit, Pey.”
Oh no.
She bursts into tears. “I tried to tell you, but you wouldn’t talk to me. I’m so sorry, Blade. I had to make a statement to the police yesterday because it’s classed as, well . . .” She swallows. “Rape.”
Oh my god. Poor Peyton.
Even I’m not that heartless. It must have been horrible for her. Not having control of her own body like that.
“Shit,” Blade growls. “Who is this fucker?”
Peyton is crying harder now. “I work with him. We were friends, I didn’t think . . .”
“Tell me his name, Pey.”
“Blade, please, the police are dealing with it and—”
“Tell me his fuckin’ name!” Blade barks.
She nods. “It’s Brian. Brian Peters.”
“Where is he now?”
She shrugs. “I don’t . . . I don’t know.”
“Where does he live?”
“Blade . . .”
He leans in close, grabbing her shoulder. “He raped you; he’s going to pay for raping you. Now tell me where the hell he lives.”
She rattles off an address, but then quickly reaches out and grabs his arms. “Please, before you go, just know how sorry I am. I . . . it’s been hell without you, Blade. I’m so sorry.”
Jesus. No.
His face goes soft and he looks down at her. “Don’t be sorry.” He pulls her into his arms. “Never be sorry.”
My knees go wobbly. He’s stroking her hair. She’s clinging to him. They look perfect together. Blade pulls back and presses a kiss to her forehead, and as he’s doing this, his eyes find mine. He pulls back and narrows his gaze, but I can’t move. I can’t even speak. Part of me, the biggest part, wants to rush over and hold Peyton. The other part, the tiny insecure part, wonders if this is it for Blade and me?
Peyton turns and looks over to me, and I pull myself together.
“I’m sorry, Peyton,” I whisper. “I overheard.”
She gives me a wobbly smile and the bigger part of my heart wins out. I walk over and place a hand on her shoulder. “Would you like to stay with me for a while?”
She nods. “I’d like that.”
“Good idea,” Blade says, leaning down and grabbing some keys. “I’ll be back soon.”
“Fuck me, you’ll be the death of me.”
“Grandpa,” I mutter.
He flashes me a wolfish grin before pulling back out onto the road and taking us to the garage.
I decide in that moment, that car sex is on my top five list of Best Places to Fuck.
~*~*~*~
When we arrive at the garage, I see Peyton standing just outside the large rollers doors. She’s wearing a yellow summer dress and has shades pulled down over her eyes. When she sees Blade’s car pull in, her head tilts towards us. Great. Just great. We both get out, and I hope to god it isn’t obvious that we’ve been having sex. Blade mumbles a few curses as we walk closer.
“Ah, hey Blade, Aria . . .” Peyton begins.
“What’re you doin’ here, Pey?” Blade snaps.
“I just wanted to talk to you,” she pleads.
My chest tightens but I say nothing. Blade turns to me. “Can you go inside, give me ten?”
Ouch.
“Sure. Nice to see you, Peyton.”
“You too, Ari.”
I disappear inside and rush into the office. I unlock it and close the door softly behind me. My heart aches with a pathetic jealousy that I shouldn’t have. He chose me, so why the hell am I so worried about her being out there? I sit for ten minutes, but Blade doesn’t come back in. I get out of my chair and carefully walk out towards the garage. I stop when I hear them talking.
I peer around to see them standing beside a car. He’s leaning against it with his arms crossed and she’s standing about a meter in front of him, arms flopping to the side. “Please, Blade, let me explain.”
“Don’t want to hear your fuckin’ lies, Pey.”
She drops her head. “He drugged me.”
Oh, she did not.
“Say what?”
“He drugged me. We went to lunch, as friends I swear. Midway through I started to feel funny, off even. It got worse and worse until I could hardly walk. He took me home, and I honestly don’t remember much after that.”
Is she lying? Or is she telling the truth? If she’s lying, then she’s a dog, but somehow, I think she’s telling the truth and that’s bad. It’s bad because Blade will then have to question himself, and everything we’re doing here. I feel sick, but I don’t move. I just watch.
“How do I know you’re not lyin’ to me?”
She shuffles about through her purse and pulls out a piece of paper, handing it to him. “I went to the doctor a few days ago, made them take my bloods, because I want to know what he gave me. If you read it, you can see that there were still levels of the drug in my system.”
Blade stares down at the paper and back up towards Peyton.
“Shit, Pey.”
Oh no.
She bursts into tears. “I tried to tell you, but you wouldn’t talk to me. I’m so sorry, Blade. I had to make a statement to the police yesterday because it’s classed as, well . . .” She swallows. “Rape.”
Oh my god. Poor Peyton.
Even I’m not that heartless. It must have been horrible for her. Not having control of her own body like that.
“Shit,” Blade growls. “Who is this fucker?”
Peyton is crying harder now. “I work with him. We were friends, I didn’t think . . .”
“Tell me his name, Pey.”
“Blade, please, the police are dealing with it and—”
“Tell me his fuckin’ name!” Blade barks.
She nods. “It’s Brian. Brian Peters.”
“Where is he now?”
She shrugs. “I don’t . . . I don’t know.”
“Where does he live?”
“Blade . . .”
He leans in close, grabbing her shoulder. “He raped you; he’s going to pay for raping you. Now tell me where the hell he lives.”
She rattles off an address, but then quickly reaches out and grabs his arms. “Please, before you go, just know how sorry I am. I . . . it’s been hell without you, Blade. I’m so sorry.”
Jesus. No.
His face goes soft and he looks down at her. “Don’t be sorry.” He pulls her into his arms. “Never be sorry.”
My knees go wobbly. He’s stroking her hair. She’s clinging to him. They look perfect together. Blade pulls back and presses a kiss to her forehead, and as he’s doing this, his eyes find mine. He pulls back and narrows his gaze, but I can’t move. I can’t even speak. Part of me, the biggest part, wants to rush over and hold Peyton. The other part, the tiny insecure part, wonders if this is it for Blade and me?
Peyton turns and looks over to me, and I pull myself together.
“I’m sorry, Peyton,” I whisper. “I overheard.”
She gives me a wobbly smile and the bigger part of my heart wins out. I walk over and place a hand on her shoulder. “Would you like to stay with me for a while?”
She nods. “I’d like that.”
“Good idea,” Blade says, leaning down and grabbing some keys. “I’ll be back soon.”
