Forbidden Backseat: Under My Parents’ Nose

Chapter 2

Worse, it kept growing, forcing its way in.

'That's Francis's...! What's happening? Doesn't he hate me?'

Once, a friend had teased us about being childhood sweethearts who were made for each other. Francis had rounded on him, his face dark, and declared that he'd never have feelings for me.

'Why is his body reacting to me?'

My face burned scarlet, my whole body stiff as stone. I shifted my legs, trying to dislodge it from between them.

It didn't work. My movements only made it grow bigger.

Even through my skirt and panties, its heat seemed to scorch my skin.

I was stunned and mortified.

But I didn't dare say anything.

What if it was just an involuntary reaction? He'd surely mock me for being shameless and imagining he wanted me.

Besides, our parents were sitting only inches ahead...

'What to do? The rearview mirror. Maybe I can see his face in it.'

Still blushing, I glanced at the mirror, trying to look as if nothing was wrong.

Francis was leaning against the seat. His jaw was tight, and veins stood out on his left hand by the window.

As though he couldn't stand it anymore, he jerked his head up and shot me a glare. "Move! Stay away from me!"

So he did hate touching me.

The color drained from my face, and hurt washed over me.

I'd been secretly in love with him for 3 years.

I'd planned to tell him when I came of age. But when I was 17, he discovered what was going on between Mom and Charles, and he started hating me.

I could only bury those feelings deep inside.

"...Sorry." I barely managed to get the word out. I tried to lift myself off him and put some distance between us.

Just then, the speeding car hit a pothole, sending the whole vehicle bouncing upward.

I'd been off Francis's lap for only 2 seconds before I landed hard on him again.

I twisted sideways as I fell, and my lips brushed his briefly.

It felt like a bolt of lightning had struck me.

'I'm dead. Francis is going to think I did that on purpose! But I didn't!'

"I'm sorry!" I whispered in a panic, starting to get up.

His large hand settled on my waist, pulling me firmly back onto his lap. "Fine. Just stay there," he said, sounding almost resigned.

Before I could process it, I felt that strange, now-familiar pressure again.

A powerful jolt shot from my bottom through my entire body, quick as lightning.

My body softened, pressing close against his chest. A voice inside me screamed, 'I want it! I want him inside me, filling this emptiness, making me feel so good it never ends.'

The thought brought back an image from the night I'd come of age.

I'd gone to Francis's room to invite him over for my birthday cake. When I opened the door, he'd just gotten out of the shower.

His arms flexed as he dried his hair. His bare, bronze torso was powerfully built, droplets of water trailing down his perfectly defined six-pack.

And all he wore below the waist was a gray bath towel, stretched tight over an intimidating bulge.

I'd fled.

But that night, I'd had an embarrassingly erotic dream.

In it, I arched my body, flushed and meeting Francis's hard thrusts, murmuring, "Harder, Francis..."

When I woke up, my underwear and the sheets were soaked.

And now that thing from my dream was rubbing against my bottom.

A hot rush spilled from between my legs, soaking my panties and skirt.

I realized I'd not only gotten wet, but also soaked the hardness pressing against me. Francis's body tensed, and I nearly died of shame.

'God, I'm such a slut!'

I knew he hated me, yet that dream and his body's reaction had still aroused me beyond my control.

'He must be disgusted now, thinking I'm just like my mother. Just as easy.'

Reason told me to get myself under control and get off his lap. But I'd just squirted, leaving me too weak to move. Worse, my body wanted more, urging him to slip inside and fill the emptiness. It would feel... so good.

"Hester..." As nerves and a strange excitement consumed me, Francis spoke close to my ear, his voice low and rough. "Are you trying to seduce me?"

'No! I'm not!'

I knew how much he despised seduction.

I wanted to deny it, but my throat closed up. I couldn't force out so much as a sound.

"I'll take that as a yes." There seemed to be a thread of desire in his voice now.

Then I felt his right hand slide down, working its way between my thighs.

There was none of his usual disdain in his voice. Instead, he sounded teasing, with a hint of something almost tender. "Want it? I'm giving it to you..."

'What?!'

I almost cried out.

'Our parents are right in front of us! If anything happens here, they'll know!'

In an instant, I felt his fingers part my legs and slide inside.

Mom suddenly turned around, her expression stern. "Hester, what are you doing?!"