Slow Ride (Fast Track #5)(23)
Author: Erin McCarthy

Then he pulled back, so abruptly and so completely away from her that she swayed forward.

“Yes, I’m going to show you. But not right now. I prefer to spank you in private.”

Was he serious? Tuesday scanned his face, but she couldn’t really read much more than lust in his expression. And if he was serious, what did he mean exactly? A few swats in the middle of the action, sure, she had done that. Both on the giving and the receiving end. But was he talking hard-core corporal punishment, over-the-knee style? He didn’t look the type. But then, who did?

She had to admit, she wasn’t as appalled as she was just infinitely curious. And aroused. Don’t forget that.

Clutching her crop tighter to her chest, she told him, “Good luck with that. I’m the one holding the crop, remember?”

He just smiled, a sly, knowing smile that had her actual womb quivering in anticipation. “For now.”

For the first time since her virginal late teens, Tuesday thought she might be out of her league. But she was always up for a challenge.

“Bring it on.”

CHAPTER SIX

TUESDAY expected him to kiss her again. Slap her backside maybe. Do something sexual to cap off her statement, to show her he was the one in control of this night. But just like earlier, in contrast to the sexy words that had been coming out of his mouth, Diesel took her hand, like they were really on a date and said, “Let’s go then, sweetheart. Thanks for being so nice to my aunt and uncle.”

How did he shift gears like that? One glance down showed he still had an erection. But now he was back to casual nice boy out on a first date. She didn’t know what to do with that. Except that he probably expected she wouldn’t know what to do with it and would be passive. She wasn’t about to give him control that easily. “It was my pleasure. I had fun, and your aunt and uncle are good people.”

There was a brief pause where he glanced over at her, like he was surprised by her own equally casual response. She wasn’t going to ask him to explain his behavior. It just wasn’t going to happen.

“You’re quite the risk taker when it comes to betting.”

“Nah. Not normally. But this was for charity, remember? Though I should have had a beer.” Between thinking about her father and high-strung nervous anticipation of having Diesel inside her, she could use a drink.

Diesel opened the car door for her. “I don’t want you impaired while I’m giving you an orgasm.”

Yes. Just the thought of having an O created by Diesel had her clenching her thighs together as she slid into the car. She rolled her eyes up at him. “Like one beer would impair me. Please.”

Instead of answering, he slammed the door shut and came around to the driver’s side.

“You know, we’ve spent most of our time together in the car,” she told him. It was just a casual observation. Irrelevant. But it did strike her that for a man she’d only known for a few days, they’d spent a large amount of time driving around. “Maybe we should stop at a bar on the way home.”

“I’m not buying you a drink.”

Why did he have to be so petulant about it? “Who said you have to buy it? Just sit back and watch me pay.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

At this point, Tuesday didn’t really care that much about actually getting the drink. She just wanted to win. He had no right to deny her liquor. This was a free country. “Stop at the convenience store then.”

“No.” He gave her an exasperated look. “Do you have to be drunk to have sex with me?”

“No, of course not. I just want one drink.” She pointed to a gas station. “Pull in, right there.”

Diesel didn’t say a word as he indeed pulled off the street. When he put the car in park in front of the door, he shot her a look. “You owe me. And I will be collecting.”

“Like this is inconvenient for you? I owe you nothing.” What had started out as amusing now had just pissed her off. He had no right to order her around. If she had asked for some goddamn chicken nuggets would he have refused as well? He had no business judging her wants.

Tuesday climbed out of the car and slammed the door shut, hard. Stomping into the store, she wandered the aisles. There wasn’t quality alcohol to be had. It was mostly beer and cheap wine, the kind that made her want to die, clutching her head, after three glasses. She didn’t really like beer all that much, but she wasn’t even going to drink it. She was just going to buy it, on principle, so anything would do.

Pulling a six-pack of bottles out of the cooler, she took it to the counter and paid and stomped back out. Riding boots were good for making noise when she was annoyed. Diesel better have a big dick, that’s all she was saying.

“Don’t be huffy,” he told her.

“Who’s huffy?” she huffed. “And if I was huffy—which I’m not—I have the right to be since you’re bossing me around and accusing me of being drunk.” That was a bit of an exaggeration but she was not known for being the most rational when she was irritated.

“When did I say you’re drunk? And how could you be drunk when you haven’t even had a drink?” He pulled the car out of the parking spot. “How did we end up here, Jesus?”

She hadn’t a clue. “Here, as in the convenience store, or here, as in the middle of having an incredibly pointless and petty argument?”

He laughed. “The second one.”

“I don’t know.” She picked at the price sticker on the lid of one of the bottles in the six-pack in her lap. “Maybe it’s because I had a moment where your uncle reminded me of my dad.”

She could own her emotions. It wasn’t Diesel’s fault that she’d done a one-eighty on him, and he deserved to know where her head was.

“Shit, I’m sorry, Tuesday.” His voice was heavy with sympathy. “I’m sure that’s incredibly hard.”

“Yeah, it is.” Her finger was covered in sticky gunk from the sticker she had eradicated and balled up. Rolling it back and forth between her fingers, she squeezed it hard. “Plus I’m nervous about us having sex for the first time.”

“You are?”

“Well, aren’t you? There’s been a hell of a buildup. And while I’m sure it will go well, it’s still weird, the first time with anyone.”

“Yeah, it is. I’m a little on edge myself.”