The Ride

There was no question as to the attraction. It was mutually immediate. One look into his intense, chocolate eyes, and she knew he wished, as she did, he had met her first.

He was not wholly committed to anyone else, but neither was he entirely free. And so, together, they played a dangerous game. One they could not possibly know then would last half a lifetime.

The tension and chemistry between them was palpable. And they weren’t the only ones who felt it. In fact, it irritated some of the others. They considered it a betrayal for her to simply laugh with him. But in her mind, she reasoned that there were no vows, no covenants, not even a promise between parties, so she continued to speak and laugh freely with him, no matter who was around. After all, no one was the boss of her. Out of respect for the situation though, she kept it friendly, nothing more.

She continued seeing the man she had been seeing, knowing full well he would never be anything more than a distraction. While the One continued to be a doting and loving father to his kids. He was watching her carefully, though, learning to read her moods and know her ways. His vigilant observation easily discerned what she was thinking without her saying a word.

One night, after the distraction had stood her up, yet again, she decided not to join in the card games and drinking, but excused herself to her room claiming tiredness. He watched her go, then asked her friends what was really wrong. They told him she had been stood up again. Apparently, he didn’t like something about that. He poked his head through her doorway and asked if she felt going for a ride. Had anyone else asked her that, she would have politely declined, but the smile on his face and the mischievous glint in his eye, had her smiling and instantly on her feet. They headed out, with her friend of course, for no one trusted the two of them alone, to his beautiful muscle car and hit the streets.

He drove like a madman, daring and far too fast, though somehow maintaining control, while music boomed through the speakers. Like a child on a fast moving ride, she held on for dear life, laughing hysterically, sliding and bumping all over the backseat. He sped up and down the hills and spun donuts in parking lots. It was exhilarating the way his driving made her come alive. Not just the driving, it was HIM. He turned her on; there was no denying it.

She watched as his hands gripped the wheel, turning and gliding along the leather. She wanted those hands to slide across her body, over her breasts, and between her thighs. She hungered for his touch. She could taste her desire. She caught him looking at her more than once in the rear view mirror. She could see he was enjoying it as much as she was. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his lips curling into a sly grin, and she let herself imagine what it would be like to kiss him.

That night was the night she knew for sure she would have him, somehow, some way. And he knew it too.

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