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Authors: C. Margery Kempe

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BOOK: Make Me Beg for It
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Jeri laughed, but later while they were at her house, Ella tapped away at the keyboard, finding the Backstreets Garage just like J.D. had said and down in Rockville, and right on the front page, a picture of him with that off-kilter smile and his blue Mustang.
We take a hands-on approach
, the homepage said.

Jeri snorted reading it. “I’ll say. He was all hands.”

“No,” Ella said. “He was all lips. Maybe this week he’ll be all hands.”

“Not if you beat him.” Jeri looked at her friend. “You think of that?”

Ella looked at the frozen image on the screen. “If he can’t take a woman who beats him in a fair race, he’s not worth having.” She looked over at Jeri. “Well, not more than once or twice.” The two laughed and started a half-hearted pillow fight. Jeri’s bed was still strewn with fluffy pillows and soft toys from years ago. The unicorn, Ella maintained, was definitely unforgivable.

“I don’t know,” Jeri said, shaking her head.

“I do,” Ella said, looking back at the monitor.
And so does my skin
.

 

*

 

The week dragged by like it had lead weights attached to its heels. All the seniors were itchy with their impending freedom, their glances straying more often to the windows than to their instructors. Ella and Jeri burst into giggles every time they looked at one another. When Friday finally arrived, the two friends plotted as they decorated a large order of orange-banana muffins.

“We have to come up with a more plausible story,” Ella said. “We can’t pull the staying the night swap again. My gran is too sharp for that.”

“We’re both eighteen! Why should we have to tell anyone what we’re up to?” Jeri squeezed the frosting bag with a bit too much pressure. “Okay, so this one’s got a big nose.” The rows of clowns smirked at them.

“You know, I hate clowns,” Ella said. “How about a midnight movie?”

“Kind of weak.” Jeri sighed. “But maybe it’ll work.”

When they waved good-bye that night Gran gave her a funny look as the two of them hopped in the Cherry Bomb. “Do you think she suspects something?”

Ella bit her lip, but Jeri dismissed her anxiety. “Even if she does, it’s too late now.”

“And this time, Jeri, you are
not
going to discourage this guy.”

Jeri blew a raspberry. “If he’s even there.”

“Why are you being this way?” Ella looked over at her friend.

Jeri didn’t meet her gaze. “Because you don’t have any perspective when it comes to guys. Remember Robyn? Remember how crazy he made you? I don’t know about
you
, but
I’m
not going through that again.”

Robyn!
Ella hadn’t thought of him in months. The sensitive, poet guy with the big, brown eyes and the soulful voice—not to mention the need to go out with Michele Brody at the same time without mentioning that fact. “He was a mistake.”

Jeri snorted. “You’re telling me! Months I spent getting you back from that sodden, Sylvia Plath-reading bundle of woe. No more. You’re much better as a Bettie Page wannabe.”

“Who’s a wannabe?!”

“I ain’t the one with the ‘Hot Rod Girls Save the World’ t-shirt.”

“I think it had a lot to do with my dad,” Ella said after a long pause. “I needed someone to pay attention to me. I don’t regret it. Not really.”

“Your first should have been better,” Jeri said with surprising venom.

“What and yours? That was better?”

Jeri chuckled. “At least there was no danger of my falling for Tony, but I had a lot of laughs while it lasted.”

Ella shook her head. “Don’t you ever want to fall in love?”

“Not if I can help it!”

They both laughed.

The South End teamed with cars and people, even more than the weekend before. Ella tried not to look too worried as she scanned the cars for J.D.’s Mustang. At last, she saw it parked over on the side near a couple of big Harleys. Jeri leaned out the window and yelled a hello. J.D. sauntered over with a big grin on his face.

“Hello, ladies.” His hands rested on the edge of the window by Jeri, but his gaze remained fastened on Ella’s face. “Out for a stroll or are you racing tonight?”

“If you’re up for it,” Ella said, fighting a frog in her throat, “I thought we might go head to head.”

The big grin grew bigger. “Let me just say so to my guys.”

“I’m getting out here.” Jeri cut in. “I’m not risking my life. Introduce me to your friends.” J.D. raised his eyebrows, but nodded. Jeri hopped out with a quick peck on Ella’s cheek. “Hang him up by his Buster Browns.”

Ella laughed and watched J.D. introduce Jeri to his friends with the Harleys. Then he got in the Mustang and pulled up next to Ella. Together they joined the line toward the starting line. A woman with a giant bouffant had a big white flag, which she waved as she leapt into the air each time she sent off a pair of draggers.

J.D. kept glancing over at her. Ella tried to calm the fluttering in her chest, but it didn’t want to listen to reason. Adrenaline surged through her body as they crept toward the starting line. When she realized they were next, a sense of calm came over her as she waited to see the bouffanted woman wave that flag.

All at once, with a squeal of tires, they were off. Ella’s body tingled as she slammed through the gears, her skin as taut as a wire, her mind pumping as fast as the pistons. They crossed the finish line, where twin boys who looked about twelve crossed their flags in a mock swordfight. Ella released a deep breath she hadn’t realized she’d held the entire way.

Braking, she looked over at J.D. whose smile threatened to meet at the back of his head. They pulled down to the end of the competitors’ cars and jumped out of their autos.

“I so whupped you!” Ella cried.

“It was me by a hair.”

“Oh, no it wasn’t. I had you beat from the get go, and you never got near me.”

J.D. shook his head. “It was close at the end. You couldn’t tell the winner without a photo.”

“We are so going to go again.” Ella could feel the flush in her cheeks and loved the way the streetlights lit up J.D.’s teeth when he smiled.

“But not now,” J.D. said, his voice quieter as he touched her arm. “You’re not in any hurry are you?”

“I suppose not,” Ella said and leaned back against the hood of the Cherry Bomb.

“Good, because I want to take advantage of your
dueña
being gone.” He stepped closer so his thigh pressed against hers. “And I think I want to try that kiss again, the one we started last week.”

Ella looked up, and her heart skipped a little faster. “Now where were we . . . ?” She lifted herself up on the hood, glad she’d worn the jeans without any rivets—the tight jeans that hugged her curves so nicely. Ella had also worn the soft cashmere sweater with the short sleeves and the low
V
-neck. She hoped he appreciated it.

J.D. moved in close, putting his hands on her shoulders. “You have a real spark,” he leaned in to brush her lips with his. “A lot of skill, too. You’ve got an amazing car—which seems fitting.” He leaned in, dropping his hands to her waist and locking his mouth on hers. Their tongues wrestled, neither giving way. J.D. pressed up against her, warm and hard. Ella wrapped her arms around him, feeling the play of muscles in his back.

He moved his hands to her cheeks, his mouth hungry against hers.

Ella thought her thighs might just burst into flames right there. She wanted to feel this man inside her and groaned with desire. He heard her and moved his hands to her chest, caressing her aching breasts, rubbing his thumbs against her nipples. The exquisite joy filled Ella as she arched against his touch.

She wanted skin on skin, though, and slipped her hands underneath his T-shirt to feel his warm flesh. It made her so wet. Ella wrapped her legs around him and pulled him back with her, so he had to let go of her breasts and throw his hands out on the hood, keeping his mouth glued to hers and grinding his hips against her.

He arched up and lifted his hands from the Cherry Bomb’s hood to slip under the soft folds of the cashmere, the better to caress her breasts and to tease the nipples again. It wasn’t enough! J.D. seemed to sense her growing frustration and he shoved her sweater up to reveal her bra. After feasting his eyes for a moment, his mouth latched onto her left breast with a greedy abandon before moving to her right, his tongue circling her hardened nipple before he took it between his teeth, gently squeezing it while she moaned.

Ella knew she should be thinking about being seen, but all she wanted was
more
. J.D. lifted his head and fixed her with an intent stare before he moved one hand up to her neck and used the other to slip into the top of her jeans. Moaning, Ella moved her own hand down to pop the button at the top, then slide the zipper. J.D. leaned in and wiggled his fingers down until she gasped.

His mouth sought hers again, seemingly starving for her taste as his fingers slipped lower, at last, sliding into her wetness as Ella bucked with pleasure. Hampered by the snugness of her jeans, J.D. did his best to stroke her, curving his fingers and seeking her g-spot.

It didn’t take much. Ella saw spots before her eyes as she began to come, crying out as she arched up, and he jammed his fingers in and out, maximizing her pulsations. Her chest heaved and filled with such exquisite joy that she wanted to whoop at the sky. For a second, Ella thought she had—or he had—but then she recognized the sound.

Sirens blared somewhere near the starting line. J.D. and Ella looked at each other with surprise. There were shouts everywhere. J.D. pulled his hand out of her pants with a sheepish grin, but took a moment to stick his fingers in his mouth, evidently savoring the taste of her. Ella’s face flushed warmly.

“We better go.” Ella couldn’t bring herself to get down from the hood, however. A decided languor filled her body, and she wanted simply to revel in the warmth. J.D. put his arms around her and lifted her to the ground with care, though she swayed a little, light-headed yet. They grinned at each like idiots.

“Hey! Hey! You idiots! We gotta go!” Jeri jumped off the back of a Harley that roared up beside them. “Move it!”

J.D. grabbed Ella for one last kiss. “There’s a hot rod rally in Manchester next weekend. Bands, cars, food. Meet me there?”

“All right.” Ella blinked, hoping it would clear her head.

“Car. Now!” Jeri looked over her shoulder, where the sirens were getting louder. Ella waved and finally tottered over to the door of the Cherry Bomb, zipping her jeans as she walked, blushing when Jeri raised eyebrows at her, but there was no time to talk. Hitting the gas, she pulled away with a quick glance back at the Mustang.

“I still don’t know your name!” J.D. yelled before jumping in his car, too, and pulling out behind them. Ella laughed and sped up as much as she dared, her gaze darting left and right to make sure the way was clear. The warm night poured in through the windows, filling her with a heady thrill as she kept a watch on J.D.’s Mustang in the rearview mirror all the way to the exchange at Hartford, when he headed east and they north.

Wisely, Jeri held off on the third degree until they got back to her house. Ella hoped she could just drop off her friend, but Jeri wasn’t about to get out of the car until she’d heard enough to be satisfied.

“I can’t believe you let him get his hands down your pants right under the streetlight!” Jeri shook her head in disbelief. “Crazy!”

Ella beamed. “And oh, did it feel good.” She sighed and leaned back.

Jeri smirked. “How blue do you think his balls are?”

Ella laughed. “I’m sure they weren’t for long.” She shivered imagining him taking his cock in hand, thinking about her. When he’d pressed up tight against her, she’d felt the hard length of him.
Delicious!

“So, some hot rod rally Saturday? I am going to be so bored.” Jeri sighed and got out of the car, leaning in the window. “He better be worth it.”

The smile on Ella’s face lasted all the way home, where she found a slice of pecan pie on the table from her gran. What would she say if she knew her granddaughter had been dodging the cops tonight? Ella giggled, then went to her room, threw off her clothes and fell into bed, renewing the sensations J.D.’s hands had aroused in her with her own fingers and coming again before dropping into a deep sleep.

Waking the next morning, Ella found the smile still on her face. Jumping out of bed, she went to the closet and started digging through until at last she found it. Pulling the red sundress out into the light, she regarded it. Not quite vintage, but with a few accessories it would look like it matched the Cherry Bomb. She grinned at the Bettie Page poster on her wall, then frowned and cast a glance at the bottom of the closet where a tangle of Converse lay. Ella considered her Docs and decided
no
. Grabbing her phone, she hit the four key, and Jeri’s number rang.

“You up for some shoe shopping?”

Jeri yawned in her ear. “At last, something
I
want to do. When are you picking me up?”

The two went from one end of the Buckland Hills Mall to the other, and Ella began to despair. Jeri insisted that Ella didn’t really need red, that black or white would do just as well, but they turned a corner and there they were: heels higher than she’d ever worn, red patent leather that looked as slick as wet nail polish, and they were perfect.

“There goes your college fund.” Jeri joked, but she was a bit in awe of Ella’s certainty. They had her size, the shoes fit perfectly, and the price—while hefty—had not been beyond her means. “You got a thing for this guy.”

“Oh, yeah,” Ella said as she took the bag from the helpful clerk. “This is a good thing. A real good thing.”

When they got back to Ella’s, her gran was making a pot of tea and had a tray of biscuits all set out. “What’s this? Girly shoes? Ella, I have to say I’m shocked.” Her lovely face creased with a smile. “What’s all this about?”

Ella shot a glance over at Jeri, then coughed. “There’s this hot rod rally on Saturday. I’m taking the Cherry Bomb to show her off a bit and, you know, I have to dress the part.” She could feel her cheeks getting red and hoped they weren’t as crimson as the shoes.

BOOK: Make Me Beg for It
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