Lights Out: A Dark Stalker Rom-Com

Aly was getting in the car. I watched her slide into the passenger seat beside me, gun aimed at my middle, eyes trained on my mask while she slowly pulled the seatbelt across her chest and buckled in.

She reached out and blindly closed the door behind herself, as unwilling to look away from me as I was her, if for a different reason. I let out the breath I knew damn well I’d been holding – I didn’t want to so much as breathe, let alone move in case I scared her off.

There was a woman with a mask kink within arm’s distance of me. A woman who had recently masturbated to one of my videos, and I couldn’t get that one brief image out of my head of her thrusting her vibrator into herself.

Was that how she liked it? Raw and rough? A hint of pain to heighten her pleasure?

Fuck, I wanted her. Here. Now. It was so tempting to turn and pin her to her seat so I could –

She shoved the barrel of the gun into my side. “Drive. And lord help us if we get pulled over on the way. Between your horror movie getup and my weapons, we’d probably make headline news.”

Right. About that.

I grabbed my phone off the dash. I wished I could talk to her, but I’d have to do it again soon as Josh, and I couldn’t risk her recognizing my voice. The fancy modulator I ordered was getting delivered tomorrow, and then I could be done with this typing nonsense.

I’m going to take the back way there, I typed. I put the directions into my map, so you know I’m not lying.

I showed her the text instead of sending it.

She cocked her head sideways and eyed the edge of my mask like she was considering ripping it off. “Or you could just show me who you are and drive my car like a normal person. I already know we’ve met before, and it can’t be easy to see in that thing.”

My heart thudded inside my chest. Aly was at the top of her class when she graduated nursing school. Maybe I should be worried that she was smart enough to figure out who I was, but it only excited me. It felt like a game we played, with me constantly staying three steps ahead of her to avoid getting caught. The challenge was thrilling. And despite her concern, I could see just fine in my mask. The black material covering the wide eye sockets was made from a kind of high-tech nanofiber that was opaque from one side and transparent from the other. It was no different than looking out of a pair of glasses.

I can see fine. And do you really want to ruin the fantasy? I typed, showing her the phone and praying she wanted this as much as I did.

She blew out a shaky breath and looked away, the gun slipping an inch, and I took her silence as confirmation.

A glance at the gun showed me her finger was nowhere near the trigger. Not that anything would happen if she pulled it. I’d replaced her bullets with blanks. I was horny, not suicidal. And yes, I planned to switch them again. The thought of her unarmed in this city made me want to both rage and puke at the same time, which would probably be messy, so the real bullets were going back in as soon as we got to her house. I’d just have to find a way to be sneaky about it so she didn’t get mad at me again.

Her eyes were guarded when they came back to mine, but there was a hint of a flush in her cheeks that hadn’t been there before, driving the point home that Aly would rather have me masked and anonymous as well.

I buckled my seatbelt and put the car in reverse, using the rearview camera to guide me out of the parking space.

“You put my seat heater on for me,” she said.

I nodded. For whatever reason, empathy was starting to come easy for me with her. Watching her through the hospital cameras showed me a woman who would do anything to help others, even to the detriment of herself. I figured she must have been sore after being on her feet for so long, and even though the orthopedic shoes she wore looked comfortable, I was betting her legs and back still hurt.

She was probably hungry, too – I hadn’t seen her eat much in the past day and a half. Luckily, I had a solution for that. I put the car in drive but kept my foot on the brake.

Lifting my hands, I slowly rotated in my seat. The gun bumped over my abs as I turned her way, and her gaze drifted down like she felt it happen. I reached behind us and grabbed a small lunch bag from the rear seat.

“Woah, buddy,” she said, leaning away as I turned back around with it. “Is that a bomb or something?”

I almost forgot myself and swore. Why hadn’t I realized Aly might jump to a conclusion like that after the shift she’d had? It was a dumb mistake, and I wouldn’t make one like it again. I’d be better for her going forward. She deserved someone at the top of their game.

I shook my head and set the bag in my lap. Moving slowly so she wouldn’t freak out, I unzipped it and showed her the contents.

She frowned and leaned forward for a better look, glancing up at me afterward with one brow arched. “You brought me snacks?”

I nodded and put the bag on the center console for her.

She made no move to take it, her expression turning exasperated. “I’m not eating any of that. You could have drugged it.”

Fair point. I snagged the sandwich bag filled with apple slices. My gloves were thin enough that it was easy to lift one out. I tugged my mask away from my face just enough to get the slice inside it without revealing more than the edge of my jaw and slid the apple into my mouth.

I made a “See?” motion as I started to chew, but Aly was too busy staring at where my jaw was hidden again to pay much attention to my hands.

My mouth went dry. Did she feel it, too? This undeniable pull between us? I was trying to be a gentleman, had promised myself that tonight and this ride home was about reassuring her that she could trust me with her safety – after all, it was a big ask to get someone to agree to sex with a knife-wielding stranger – but if she kept looking at me like that, I didn’t know if I could keep myself in check for much longer.

She licked her lips as her eyes slid from my face to take in the rest of me. I went still in my seat, telling my dick not to react, but it had a mind of its own when it came to her, so there it went, shoving against the restriction of my jeans, demanding to be let out.

Aly took her sweet time looking me over. There wasn’t much on display – I wore jeans and a hoodie – but I’d left the sweatshirt unzipped, and Aly’s gaze went straight to the way my fitted Henley flattened against my stomach.

“Is that the shirt you wore in your latest video?” she asked, her voice hoarse.

I nodded.

She shook her head as if trying to clear her thoughts. Dirty thoughts? “Did you think you were being funny by posting such a sappy thirst trap after what you did to me?”

I nodded vigorously this time, glad she couldn’t see my shit-eating grin.

She huffed out a breath and looked away, but not before I caught the edge of her lips tilting up.

A car horn honked behind us, and we both jumped.

Right. I was supposed to be driving Aly home, not contemplating whether or not she’d like to get ravaged in the back of her car.

I waved to the impatient person behind me and took my foot off the brake. They pulled into the open space I’d just vacated, and I slowed again, just long enough to tilt my phone away from Aly, kill the loop I’d placed on all the cameras on this level of the parking garage, and hit go on my map so she would know I wasn’t blowing smoke up her ass about following directions. That done, I headed toward the exit ramp while a soothing British woman’s voice told me where to go next.

The sound of crunching came from the passenger seat. I glanced over and saw Aly helping herself to the apple slices with one hand, the other still pointing the gun in my direction. A frisson of warmth wound through me at the sight. Why did it feel so good to care for her, even on such a micro level? Was it because I’d never had anyone to call my own before? Or was this some inborn instinct all men had that, up until now, was suppressed by the cocktail of prescription drugs I’d been on since puberty?

Either way, I wasn’t questioning it. Taking care of her felt good. It was clear to me from what I’d seen that someone needed to, and I’d be damned if I let another man do it. My roommate was a goddamn moron. Didn’t he realize what he’d had when he was with her? How was he foolish enough to let such a perfect creature slip through his fingers? How were all of her past partners equally blind? She should be wifed up by now, spoiled and cherished like the queen she was.

Men were idiots. That was the only explanation.

Aly finished the apples as I pulled out of the parking garage. She tugged the lunch bag toward her and started poking around in it. I’d packed a variety of other options: a squeezable yogurt, carrot sticks, an orange, and trail mix I made myself. There was even a water bottle in there to wash everything down.

“You first,” she said, passing the trail mix over.

I stopped at the end of the exit ramp and took the bag from her. Our fingers slid against each other.

Curse these fucking gloves and the need for them.

That was the first time we’d touched, and I hated that it hadn’t been skin-to-skin. I craved the feel of her against me, even if it was just a fleeting brush.

I hefted my phone and typed, You just want to get another look at my jaw.

“It’s a nice jaw,” she said, unapologetic. “Now quit stalling. I’m hungry.”

I set my phone down to keep from typing something potentially offensive about how hungry I was, too. For her. Then I scooped out a handful of the mix and turned away because I needed to pull the mask up a little further to manage this, and I didn’t want her to see more than I was ready for her to.

“Spoilsport,” she said as I shoved the trail mix into my mouth and tugged the mask back down.

I gave her a thumbs up as I chewed and then eased my foot off the brake. The snow was really coming down. I’d checked the weather several times over the past few hours, and the accumulation predictions kept climbing. Storm totals were hard to forecast in our area because cells habitually stalled over us and dumped more snow than expected. At this rate, I wouldn’t have been surprised if we had a foot on the ground by sun up.

Even though the plows were out, they couldn’t keep up, and the roads were shit. My Uber driver had a hell of a time getting me to the hospital earlier, and her vehicle was an SUV with four-wheel drive. Aly’s car was a small sedan, and it might not have had four-wheel, but at least it came with traction control. I hoped I didn’t need it as I pulled onto the slush-covered road.

“You’re gonna have to do better than one sappy video if you want me to forgive you for watching me without my consent,” Aly said between bites.

I nodded to show I understood. Was I sorry for what I’d done? No, not at all, but I wouldn’t deny her right to be angry, and if there were a chance she’d forgive me for it, I’d find a million ways to apologize for upsetting her until she gave in.

“Thank you for driving me home,” she added in a softer tone. “I didn’t want to call an Uber or try to sleep in the hospital.”

I smiled and started to reach out to pat her knee as a way to say, “You’re welcome,” but the gun jammed back into my ribs, and I stalled out halfway there.

“No touchy. Still angry.”

I held my hand up, fingers spread until the gun eased off me. My dick chose that moment to remind me how turned on I was by making another bid to break through my zipper. Feisty Aly was hot. I couldn’t wait until she forgave me so I could start finding ways to piss her off again. Masochistic? Maybe. But for some reason, our bickering felt more like foreplay than an actual argument, and I was into it. I could only imagine how good the makeup sex would be.

The city was quiet so early in the morning. I’d driven through it a lot around this time, thanks to my insomnia, and I never got over how eerie it was. It felt like I was on the set of a post-apocalyptic movie, one of the only humans left after a terrible plague or zombie virus swept over the planet.

Tonight was less creepy and more cozy thanks to the storm, the sidewalks covered in snowbanks, everything bright and fresh like the city had been washed clean of all its sins. I knew it wouldn’t last, that it would only take a couple of hours once the snow stopped falling for life to resume and the banks to turn black from the dirt and grime splashed onto them by passing cars.

Aly leaned forward and turned the heat up another level. I shifted in my seat as I stopped at a red light, shrugging off my hoodie. My blood was up from being so close to her. I was on the verge of perspiring, and there was nothing to kill a mood like clammy skin.

I pushed my sleeves up to my elbows and turned left when the light changed, heading toward the city’s outskirts and a smaller road where there was less chance of passing anyone.

There, that was better. Sweat crisis averted.

It took me a moment to notice how motionless Aly had become. I glanced over as we passed under a streetlight and caught her staring at my forearm, the gun resting forgotten against her thigh.

Well, well, well. I’d spent so much time thinking up ways to soften her toward me that I’d missed the most obvious ally I had: her body and the way it betrayed her after all the time she’d devoted to my videos. I’d downloaded her user data off the app, and she’d spent a staggering 200 hours staring at me. When you looked at it that way, I seemed like a saint. I’d watched her less than 40 so far.

She might be mad at me, but her lizard brain was probably triggered by being so close to someone she’d pleasured herself to. I knew it had happened at least once, but I prayed it wasn’t the only time and that she’d gotten off to me so often that my proximity alone was enough to soak her panties.

What was it she’d said about my forearms in that one comment? That she wanted to trace each vein with her tongue?

Testing my hypothesis, I gripped the steering wheel tighter, making them pop. Aly made a small, helpless sound and yanked her gaze away, dropping it back to her dwindling baggie of trail mix. I tried to stifle my smugness and failed spectacularly. She wanted me. Bad. Maybe more than I wanted her, which was saying something.

I wished I could turn and watch her, memorize the way her cheeks warmed and her breath picked up, but as we headed further from the city center, the driving conditions got worse, and I had precious cargo with me. I needed to focus on getting her home safely before I gave in to my darker needs.

“Turn left at the next light,” my phone told me. I dutifully slowed to another stop a few minutes later and threw on my blinker. A lifted truck pulled up next to us, and I heard a man’s voice call out, muffled by the windows.

“Assholes,” Aly said, flipping the other vehicle off as she turned my way, effectively hiding her face from the driver’s sight.

Did they just say something rude to her?

The truck honked, and I heard the obvious sound of a catcall.

Oh, hell no.

I shifted into park, scooped the forgotten knife off the floor by Aly’s feet, and got out of the car to stare down the other driver over the roof.

The middle-aged white dude took one look at my mask and reared back in his seat.

His buddy on the passenger side started shoving his shoulder. “Dude, what the fuck?”

I lifted the knife with one hand and twiddled my fingers hello with the other.

Boo, motherfuckers.

The driver gunned the gas, running the red light as he took off into the night.

I grinned and got back in the car, flipping the knife and catching it by the tip before offering it to Aly hilt-first.

She eyed me for a long moment before setting the gun down to take it. “You’re deranged. You know that?”

I shrugged. Deranged. Protective. Same thing.

“I thought this was fake,” she said, pressing the pad of her pointer finger to the knife tip. “Jesus, that’s sharp.”

I jerked my gaze down, worried she’d cut herself, but I didn’t see any blood, so she must not have pressed too hard. I kept that thing sharp enough to slice into bone.

The light turned, bathing us in green, and reluctantly, I turned away from her and started driving again. She closed the trail mix and set it back into the lunch bag, zipping it up like she was done eating. Then she turned to put it in the back, and I caught a whiff of her floral-scented shampoo. Unable to help myself, I dragged in a deep breath. I couldn’t wait to bury my face into all that hair while I fucked her, the sound of her ragged cries filling my ears, her legs thrown over my shoulders as I bent her in half and dicked her to within an inch of her life.

I shifted in my seat, trying to ease the pressure in my jeans. Had Aly caught sight of my erection when I got out of the car? Christ, I would have been standing in the open door with it right at eye level while I scared those guys off. Whoops. Probably should have paused to consider my “situation” before my anger got the better of me, but the rage had taken hold too fast for rational thought to stand a chance.

I glanced over at Aly. The street I’d turned onto had fewer overhead lights, but it was still bright enough to see that she was staring straight at my crotch. She’d seen, all right, and from the way her brows crept up her forehead, she was either impressed or concerned. Hopefully, a bit of both.

An apology was on the tip of my tongue, but something in her expression stopped me. Slowly, she lifted her eyes to my mask and bit her lower lip. She needed to quit doing that if she knew what was good for her.

“I want to see it,” she said.

No, she didn’t, fuckwit, I told myself.

Surely, I’d hallucinated that declaration. I wanted Aly so badly that I’d slipped out of reality and was now living in a make-believe world where the woman I lusted after asked me to whip my dick out while driving.

“Please,” she added.

I jerked my head sideways to look at her, disbelieving, and the car slid a little on a patch of ice. I whipped forward again and straightened us out. I’d grown up in the frigid north, and driving in shitty conditions was second nature, but I hated that my distraction had almost cost us.

“I can do it for you,” she said, and something cold pressed into my side.

I glanced down. Aly still had the knife, and she was using the tip of it to drag the hem of my shirt up.

Oh, shit. Why was that so hot?

“All this time, you’ve been trying to reassure me that I’m safe with you,” she said, sliding the blunted side of the blade higher. “But did you ever stop to consider whether or not you were safe with me?”

I nearly groaned. Aly in her villain era? I would bankrupt myself for front-row tickets to that show.

And yes, I had considered what she asked, which was why I’d taken the bullets out of the gun. I couldn’t bring myself to replace the knife with a fake, though, and maybe that would be my downfall. If so, I’d probably die with a dopey smile on my face while she carved me up.

But I didn’t think it would come to that. There was nothing in her therapist’s notes to indicate that Aly suffered from homicidal tendencies. I didn’t doubt that she was angry but angry enough to hurt me? Nah. Scare me a little, maybe, and I was now, because if she turned that blade around, my skin would part like a tide for Moses.

I carefully reached around the knife and hauled my shirt up so she could get a better look at my rig. Sitting down wasn’t the ideal way to show my body off, but I’d take any attention from her that I could get, so I leaned back in my seat a little and let her take her fill of me.

She giggled.

Not the response I was hoping for.

“Sorry,” she said. “But I was just thinking, what if one of these storefronts has CCTV?”

I glanced out the windshield at the narrow street around us and all the mom-and-pop stores crowded next to each other along it.

“Imagine checking your camera in the morning and seeing a masked man driving with his shirt hiked to his nipples and a woman holding a knife to his stomach?”

I wheezed out a voiceless laugh, caught off guard.

She chuckled again, but a second later, her humor faded, and she released a heavy exhale. “I know I’ve already told you this a thousand times in so many embarrassingly inappropriate ways, but you have a beautiful body.”

This was more like it.

Wary of the knife at my side, I reached over and took her free hand, placing it on my stomach. Skin-to-skin contact at last. Sweet god, yes.

Her fingers were warm as they rested on me, and I was starting to wonder if she’d lost her nerve because of how long she kept them there when suddenly they shifted, bumping down over my abs.

“That video you sent me was such a tease,” she said. “All your videos are. Is that what you’re like in real life?”

I nodded. Yes. Teasing women was second nature. I’d already given her a glimpse of that in our DMs and texts, but my need to wind women up extended to the bedroom. Aly was my perfect victim in that regard. I already knew she was feisty. It was all too easy to picture her red-faced and panting as she begged me to make her come.

Her fingers dropped to the waist of my jeans and ran along the edge. I flexed. Hard. Not to show off but to keep from giggling like a lunatic. I was ticklish, and it was incredibly inconvenient at times like this. Mercifully, she stopped just above my top button, and I relaxed a little as the threat of ruining the moment passed.

She flicked the button open with practiced fingers. “Can I see it?”

Oh, fuck. This was happening. I hadn’t hallucinated.

I nodded and shifted my hips forward to give her better access.

Her low moan filled the car as she slid her hand down and palmed my dick through my pants. “I knew you’d be big,” she whispered.

I gripped the steering wheel so tight my knuckles turned white. Goddamn fucking snowstorm. My focus had to stay on the road, regardless of how much I wanted to look down and watch what Aly did to me.

The cold bite of steel slid up my side, and I went completely still. Jesus. How had I forgotten about the knife?

“You’re so hard that I need two hands to get your zipper open. Will you behave if I set the knife down?”

Uh…would I? I wasn’t sure. We were moving out of the city proper and closer to the suburbs where Aly lived. It would be all too easy to find an empty parking lot and tackle her into the backseat.

She turned the knife over and ran the blade up my side, so close she probably shaved off some peach fuzz.

“I won’t do it if you don’t promise to be a good boy,” she crooned.

Praise kink: unlocked.

I nodded several times in quick succession, and she chuckled and set the knife, tip down, into one of the cup holders between us. Then those nimble nurse fingers were on me, one set tugging my jeans away from my straining cock while the other carefully eased my zipper open. She pulled the sides of my pants wide and went still. A glance showed her staring at the bulge in my boxers with a hungry look on her face.

Do not come in your shorts, do not come in your shorts, I started chanting in my head.

I kept my eyes trained on the road and slowed the car. Movement in my periphery was all the warning I had before Aly tugged the band of my boxers open and pulled out my dick. Silence reigned absolute between us. We must have both been holding our breath. Then Aly let out a ragged exhale and wrapped her fingers around my shaft, and I nearly came on contact.

“Don’t misconstrue this,” she said, picking the knife back up.

Terror slammed into me. A woman had one hand on my dick and the other on a knife. This could get so bad, so fast. My cock should be shriveling up in fear, but I only got harder at the thought, the danger pushing my arousal to an almost uncomfortable level.

Aly noticed, squeezing my shaft and running her thumb over the head of it to smear a drop of precum over my skin. “I see the knife kink goes both ways.”

I guess it fucking did.

“I’m still mad,” she said. “This isn’t for you.”

Okay, but it felt a little like it was for me. Her hand was stroking up my dick, after all.

“This is something I’ve dreamed about for months, and I’m not going to deny myself a chance to touch you just because we’re in a fight.”

Awww. Our first official fight.

I was absolutely going to mark this in my calendar so a year from now, we could celebrate the day she acknowledged there was something between us. Was I getting ahead of myself? Probably, but I couldn’t help it. Aly was going to be mine. The end. I’d just have to find some way to make her think it happened organically, and she wasn’t falling for my dastardly plan to brainwash her into loving me by spoiling her rotten and playing into every desire she’d ever had.

The blunted edge of the knife slid up my side in idle threat as Aly worked her way back down my cock. Her touch was gentle because both her hand and my dick were so dry that there wasn’t enough lubrication between us for her to really go after it. She paused when she got to the bottom, squeezed my base, and then reached into the band of my boxers and tugged on my balls.

I let out a shaky breath and gripped the steering wheel so hard the leather creaked.

“I can’t tell you how many times I’ve fantasized about doing this,” she said as she started to lean forward. She paused halfway to my dick, and I nearly groaned. “Are you STD free?”

I nodded. I’d gotten tested a few weeks ago and hadn’t been with anyone since.

“You wouldn’t lie to me about something like that, would you?” she asked, starting to rotate the knife against my side, the sharp edge heading toward my skin.

I shook my head, horrified at the thought of someone doing that to a partner.

“Good, because I can’t hold out any longer,” she said.

And then she clamped her lips around the head of my dick and swirled her tongue over it.

My vision tunneled. Oh, fuck, I was going to come like a fire hydrant if she kept this up.

It was somehow even better than I’d imagined, and I’d done an unhealthy amount of daydreaming the past several days. Was it because I was off the drugs that had dulled my emotions and sensations for so long? Or because it was Aly, and having feelings about the person I hooked up with elevated my pleasure?

Maybe it was both of those things combined, paired with the fact that I had my mask on, and this was the first time I was living out a fantasy I’d had for years.

That realization fled from my mind when she squeezed the base of my shaft again and lowered her head, taking more of me into the wet heat of her mouth. The urge to thrust my hips upward was strong, but she said this was for her, so I held myself still with monumental effort and let her play with me.

She moved lower, lower, widening her jaw as she took me all the way to the back of her throat. I groaned as her tongue swirled over me again, coating my shaft in saliva as she pulled up. Would it ruin my scary masked stalker image if I came too early? Didn’t badasses hold out for a long time?

Her hand wrapped around my now-lubricated shaft and started to pump, rotating on the way down just like I liked.

I prayed to the gods of longevity and then started naming baseball teams in my head.

She drew back up to my head and lapped at my slit with a moan. “God, you taste good.”

Nope. I wasn’t going to make it. I would blow like a two-pump-chump, and my badass reputation would be ruined entirely.

I tried to drum up some regret about that, but Aly tunneled her cheeks as she bobbed back down, and the suction had me seeing stars.

I took a wrong turn down a dark street and slowed the car to an absolute crawl.

“Make a U-turn at the next stoplight,” the British woman told me.

Aly froze.

Uh-oh.

Her lips popped free – no, no, no – and she sat up, knife fully rotated now, blade hovering over my skin.

“Did you just deviate from the directions?” she asked.

I whimpered in response.

I fucking whimpered.

In my defense, my dick was cold and lonely and pulsing with need, and the mouth that had so recently brought it pleasure was now several feet away. Who could blame me?

“Bad boys don’t get rewarded,” she said.

No. Goddamnit. I did not need a brat kink on top of my newly awakened praise kink. The two were supposed to cancel each other out, not act as amplifiers.

Or maybe I just had an Aly kink, and everything she said triggered this kind of response in me. Maybe being together meant that all her desires were about to become mine, too.

Please, God. Don’t let her have a fisting kink, I thought. Being used like a puppet was not something I wanted to experience.

I put my blinker on and turned the car around at the lights. She sat watching me in the dark, knife running up and down my side until we got back on the road my map wanted us on. Another torturous moment passed that made me worry Aly was going to leave me like this before she pulled the knife away and leaned forward again. This time, she started on my stomach, planting hot, drugging kisses on my abs before she parted her lips and nipped at my skin hard enough to pinch.

Was a biting kink a thing? It must be because I was rock-hard for it.

The snow picked up outside, and the car lights made it look like I’d just launched us into hyperdrive, even though we were barely moving, flakes flashing past us like stars as we raced through space. It made me feel like we were in our own little world as Aly’s lips wrapped around the head of my dick again.

“If we weren’t in this car,” she whispered against me, breath heating my skin while her hand worked my shaft, “I would deep throat you until I choked. But this angle is wrong, so I’ll have to do this instead.”

She laved at the head of my dick, tonguing my frenulum and then my slit before she did that delicious swirling motion again, all while her hand pumped my shaft.

Aly was done playing around. The way she lapped and sucked and stroked spoke of a single-minded determination to get me off.

I switched from baseball teams to hockey teams. I wasn’t a huge fan of the latter, and it took brain power to recall some of the names of – holy fuck, what did she just do?

I took my foot off the gas and glanced down. The back of Aly’s head hid her mouth and hand from sight, depriving me of getting to watch her do whatever the fuck this was to me.

No. Hockey. Remember the hockey. Team things. You were trying to –

Pressure built at the base of my spine. My balls started to tighten.

Aly sucked me deep and did that thing again.

I was going to come.

Hard.

I tapped her shoulder, trying to get her attention. She swatted me away like she didn’t need the distraction right now.

Fuck. Oh, fuck. Her mouth.

I tapped her again, more insistent this time.

A pop sounded as she pulled herself off my dick. “If you keep interrupting me, I’ll never find out what you taste like when you come.”

Lust roared through me as she bobbed back down and sucked me deep. I knew she said this was just for her, but I could no longer stop myself from moving, just a little, thrusting up into her luscious wetness. She moaned like she welcomed it, so I thrust harder.

A sharp stab of pain shot through my right hand.

What the fuck?

I glanced down, and my eyes flashed wide.

Aly had just accidentally stabbed me.

I jerked my hand away from the knife to see how bad it was, but Aly did that thing with her mouth again, and between the resulting spike of pleasure and the searing pain, I fell over the edge, spine bowing forward, losing all control as I came inside her welcoming, perfect mouth. She choked a little, trying to swallow it all down, and it only made me come harder, dragging my release out.

Aly gripped my cock when I was done and cleaned every last drop off it with her tongue. I elevated my hand and pulled it close. Blood was starting to trickle down my arm, and I didn’t want to get any of it in her hair or on her car seat.

She gave the head of my dick one last, sweet kiss and then tucked it back into my boxers, rising with a satisfied smirk that quickly turned to horror when she saw my hand.

“What the fuck did you do?” she said, grabbing it to assess the damage. “Oh, Jesus, I think you need stitches.”

Was there a nice way to tell her that I, in fact, had done nothing, and it was her who had done the maiming?