Untangle Me

Chapter 76

Giada

As soon as Andrea opened his car's door for me and I practically dove inside, I get to work on taking off my heels. Also known as torture devices, apparently, because holy hell, my feet hurt!

I know what Achilles must've felt like.

Two more minutes on my feet and I probably would have collapsed, no joke. My feet simply would have given up on me, my shaky legs would have buckled and my face would have beautifully planted itself on the ground in front of everyone.

When Andrea told me we were leaving an hour ago, I could have kissed him. You know, back then I would have still been able to stand for long enough to do that. What I hadn't anticipated was that saying goodbye to the remaining guests, which are quiet many despite it being past midnight, would take forever.

I should have known. In my defence, I've never been at a family gathering or anything like that before so you can't blame me.

"You alright?" Andrea asks, poking his head inside the car so it's only inches away from mine. He's still standing beside the vehicle, holding my door and probably surprised by my ninja jump.

"Feet. Shoes. Death, please," I whine. I kept a perfect poker face on all day and night, okay? Not complaining or mentioning it once. I get to be a baby about it now.

"Oh, shit. I'm sorry, Babe, why didn't you say anything?" he ask, leaning further into the car to press a kiss to my forehead. Then he looks for something in the glove compartment.

With a triumphant "Aha!" he comes back up, holding a small tube in his hand. Without a word, he pulls my legs out of the car so my feet are resting on his thighs. Then he starts rubbing the salve onto the back of my heels, the side of my little toe and some on my calves as if this was a regular thing for him.

And he does it with such care. God, my heart is melting.

"Thank you," I squeak after he's set my feet back where they belong.

"Of course, my love. Should have told me something. We could have left sooner. Or at least called someone to bring you a different pair of shoes," he insists, finally closing my door and getting into the driver's seat.

"Nah, was my own fault for choosing shoes with high heels. They weren't even that uncomfortable, my legs just aren't used to it." I brush him off, leaning over the armrest to give him a lingering kiss on the cheek.

He turns his face, grinning boyishly and stealing another kiss.

When he pulls back, he hits me with the, "Now let's get the fuck back. Been waiting all night to take that dress off you, finally go through with that punishment." Then, quickly glancing at me, "Unless you're too tired. Can still wait a little."

Heat rises in my cheeks. All day, I've been thinking about this, endless possibilities of what Andrea might do to me. I caught myself getting lost in daydreams about it multiple times, whenever a conversation would get particularly boring. Yet, at the end I managed to focus on other things.

The pain in my legs, mostly.

Now my nerves are acting up again and I'm feeling fidgety.

"No, I'm good. Great, I mean. Fantastic," I laugh.

"Well, I'm happy to hear that," Andrea tells me playfully.

"I'd be even better if you sped up. You know rules don't count down here and no one's on the streets. So hurry up, granny," I tease him.

It has the desired effect. My man steps onto the gas and don't give us any shit because the streets- dirt roads- are empty and we're going straight ahead.

"Granny, huh?" he asks, watching the street intently.

"Yeah, what can I say? The way you were driving was kind of reminding me of all the old ladies tonight and how they danced. None of them as good as Vittina, of course." I chuckle to myself for two reasons.

Number one, Andrea's totally taking the bait.

Second, the memory of Andrea's aunt on the dancefloor is exquisitely entertaining.

"Oh really?" the man beside me muses, one of his hands reaching out to settle on one of my thighs while he keeps speeding up.

We've reached the tempo where I'm being pushed back into my seat and my adrenaline rushes to my head.

"Mhm," I reply, smiling widely now.

Andrea's fingers slowly start playing at the edge of the slit of my dress, easily caressing my bare leg as he keeps moving towards my inner thigh. My skin burns up at the contact, the air changing in the car until I'm taking shallow, little breaths.

"Baby, are you teasing me again? Trying to get a reaction like you did the last time?" I stay silent, watching him drive with a smirk on his face while I bite my tongue. His hand is almost between my legs now but still not quite.

"Because I still have to punish you for the last time. You can't get yourself in trouble again already. Otherwise, you won't be able to sit for a week," he tsks.

"Such big words," I mock him but my act lacks conviction. I'm pretty damn sure Andrea would make good on his statement and a rush of excitement curses through me. Maybe I'm underestimating it. Maybe I should just shut up but god, I love the way my man's hand tightens on my leg.

"Such lack of respect," he retorts, still amused. Slowly and tauntingly, his first finger slides over the place where my panties would usually be. When he doesn't feel any fabric though, he stops, his smile falling. He looks at me for a beat, a dangerous fire burning behind those dark eyes of his.

Then, without a word, his attention returns to the road even as his fingers keep exploring. Less teasing now.

I wouldn't say Andrea's movements are rushed, they never are, but he seems less patient than he usually is. His grip on the steering wheel tightens. Two of his fingers explore my wet folds. He groans nearly inaudibly.

I spread my legs to give him more room and he takes full advantage of it, pushing one finger inside of me as his thumb starts to skillfully maneuver my clit. With just the right amount of pressure, his finger inside of me curls against my g-spot, pulling the first moan from me.

"That's it, my love, let me hear what I'm doing to you," he mutters as a second finger joins his first. I clench around them squirming in my seat to change the angle.

And it hits me how bad of an idea this is. We're in a car, for heaven's sake. Going I-don't-know-how many miles per hour.

I'm about to protest right when we pull into a turn. Not dangerously so but since I didn't expect it, my body leans into one side, causing Andrea to hit a new spot inside of me.

My adrenaline spikes. "You alright?" Andrea asks but I'm too breathless to speak. Not bad breathless. Fuck no. The kind of breathless that comes from having someone finger-fuck you while you're tempting death to come get you.

It's a heady mix, stripping me from all my patience to wait for us to arrive at our hotel. I'm giving Andrea ten minutes to get us there.

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