Often (Book Two)

Chapter 2 - M

Minji

With my hands on the steering wheel, and her hands everywhere else—my thighs, my cock, my neck, my chest—I wasn't even sure we would make it home safely.

Especially not once she lifted my right arm so she could duck down and unzip my pants, pull my cock from my boxers, and drag her tongue up its length. I'd wanted to get her home, but fuck, this would do just as well.

"Oh, God," she whispered, before taking all of me in her mouth.

"Holy fuck," I mumbled, moving into the slow lane of traffic.

It was so perfect, all over again: her hands and mouth working in tandem, tiny moans vibrating against me and sounding to all the world as if she'd never wanted anything as much as she'd wanted to feel me like this. She started slow, long pulls and tiny teasing licks, looking up at me through dark lashes until I thought I might lose my mind. But she read me like she always did, knowing when not to stop, when to move faster or rougher, squeezing my base tightly. What sent me reeling was her own excitement; her eyes grew dark, pleading, her breath grew labored, and her sounds around me grew more frantic. Too soon, I was gripping the steering wheel, panting and begging, and, finally, cursing loudly as I came in her mouth.

I have no idea how I managed to steer the car onto my street, or pull it into my driveway, but with shaky hands, somehow I got us there. She kissed my navel, and then rested her forehead against my thigh and the car grew completely silent. It wasn't exactly how I imagined being with her again for the first time, but the way it was so hurried and spontaneous . . . that felt like us, too.

When she pushed against my arm so she could sit up, I shifted in my seat, reaching to zip my pants and fasten my belt.

"What the hell?" she asked, looking out the window. Her surprised tone burst through my sex haze. "Is this your house? Why are we here?"

"You wanted to go to your place?"

Shrugging, she said, "I just assumed we would. I don't have any of my things here."

"I don't have anything at your place, either."

"But I have spare toothbrushes. Do you have spare toothbrushes?"

What the fuck is she talking about?

"You can use mine. What the fuck?"

Sighing, she opened her door and mumbled, "Such a dick."

"To be clear," I said, getting out of the car and following her up the walkway, "I brought you here because this is where I was going to bring you after San Diego. I was going to tie you to my headboard and spank the fuck out of you. And I intend that again, after everything you put me through."

Hanni stopped where she stood on my porch, her back to me for several long, confusing seconds before she turned to stare at me. "What did you just say?"

"Did I stutter?" I asked, and when she just continued to stare, I explained, "Yes, we were apart because I was a jerk. But so were you."

Her eyes narrowed and grew dark. I was half scared, and half thrilled as fuck that she was about to blow up at me. She backed me to my front door, her fist curling tight around my tie before she yanked down, pulling me so our faces were nearly even. Her dark eyes were wild and wide. "Give me your keys."

Reaching into my pocket, I pulled them out, depositing them in her waiting palm without question.

I watched as she flipped through them and actually found the right key on the first guess. "It's the top lock and the—"

She cut me off with a fingertip to my lips. "Shh. No talking."

I tried to puzzle out what was happening. Obviously she hadn't expected me to tease her about leaving me the way she did. Maybe she suspected we'd left all of that discussion in the conference room where we reunited. And I suppose in many ways we had. I didn't need her to apologize, and I didn't feel like I needed to apologize anymore. But our separation had been a shitty few months, so it didn't feel like the conversation about it was entirely over. Besides, spanking her seemed like the most appropriate way to work it all out of our systems.