Dead Ends // Hugh Jackman

Chapter 32 // NSFW

In all the times Hugh and I have ever been in a car together, I've never seen him drive, but he looks so in his element behind the wheel.

He's sitting somewhere between a slouch and perfect posture, completely relaxed while my body tingles with anticipation at his words back at the venue.

"I'm ready to go when you are."

It keeps replaying over and over in my head. His deep voice, that Australian accent, how he said it so sensually there was no room for any misinterpretation.

I knew what he wanted. Maybe not precisely but enough to know that we didn't have to be quiet about it tonight.

He has his left hand at the bottom of the steering wheel, his fingers wrapped around it as he takes us to the apartment. His other hand is draped over the center console, the only thing separating him and I.

His hand just dangles there when I wish he would rest it on my thigh. Touching my skin and massaging it between his fingers.

There's that smirk again as he glances at me, noticing where my eyes are.

"You're so damn beautiful, Rinnie." I thought he would mock me, use the sarcasm that's become kind of our thing, but he doesn't.

The compliment catches me off guard. My eyes snap up to his face.

Even his side profile is handsome. His strong jaw, straight nose, and those lips I've kissed several times now and will never get enough of. Lips that I want on me, but we're still on the road. Still so far away from the apartment.

I wish we could just teleport there, but at the same time, I don't want to rush into anything. I want us to take our time, even though there's a part of me that wants to be quick about it.

We've waited so long for this.

"I meant to tell you that all night, but we never really had a moment alone. I wanted to tell you so many things. Some of which I couldn't say aloud with your family around."

His free hand finally rests on my thigh, just right above my knee. On my bare skin.

"Like this dress," he trails off, running his fingers up and down a small area, never going too low or too high, teasing me just enough to bring me on edge.

"More specifically, you in this dress. It's like it was made for you, and the only thing I want more than for you to keep it on is seeing you without it."

My whole body flushes at his words. It's not just a blush that covers the expanse of my neck and cheek. It's everywhere, and I can feel every part of me heat up as he speaks in a low, husky voice.

His hand inches up my thigh, bunching up the silk along with it and exposing more and more of me to him.

"It was so hard to keep my hands to myself. To not do exactly what I'm doing right now." He kneads the flesh so close to the apex of my thighs. Any closer, and he'll feel just how badly I want him.

"You are not making this easy for me, Hugh." I don't know how I manage to get that sentence out, but my voice is strained nonetheless.

He lets out a breathy chuckle. "Oh, Rinnie, if it was easy it wouldn't be as fun."

His pinky skims the fabric of my underwear, and I swear if he does it again, I don't care that we're in some neighborhood. I'll make him stop right here just so he can make that feeling multiply tenfold. Something tells me he'll have no problem making me sees stars, just like the ones scattered all over my dress.

Swallowing hard, I refrain from moving his fingers right where I want them. Not now, but I'm dangerously close to saying fuck it even though I know he's right. Drawing this out will only make what happens once we're at the apartment feel blissfully hellish.