Wicked Temptation

POV TESSA.

I watch the freezing, impenetrable cold mask settle over his handsome face, but I know with unwavering certainty that it is nothing but a fragile lie. Vance is only resisting my advances because he feels a strict moral obligation to do so. He is convinced that he should stay away, heavily burdened by his own rigid code and his loyalty to my parents. The heavy, unmistakable bulge pressing against the denim of his jeans tells a different story. It screams the truth. Fueled by this empowering knowledge, I make the bold decision right here and now to push him past his breaking point. I am going to severely test those rigid limits until they shatter.

"When you change your mind, you know where to find me."

I make sure my tone is laced with an undeniable, heavy promise. I don't wait for his response. I turn my back on him and strut confidently out of the shadowy confines of his garage. The afternoon heat hits my skin, but it is nothing compared to the burning weight of his gaze. I make a deliberate show of swaying my hips with every single step, ensuring my round ass bounces enticingly beneath the thin fabric of my tiny white bikini bottoms. Glancing back over my shoulder just before I cross the property line, I catch the exact sight I was hoping for. His thick arms hang rigid at his sides, his large hands curled into tightly clenched fists. The ravenous, hungry gaze locked onto my retreating form is primal. That singular, starving look tells me exactly what I need to do next to break him.

I stroll onto my own property, the concrete of my driveway warm beneath my bare feet. I spot the heavy green garden hose coiled by the side of the house and the large plastic bucket sitting nearby. A wicked smile curves my lips. I grab the bucket, squirt a generous amount of concentrated soap into the bottom, and fill it with the hose until thick, white suds brim over the edges. I am preparing to put on an unforgettable, public show right in the middle of my driveway.

I carry the heavy bucket and the trailing hose over to my parked car, dropping them onto the concrete with a wet slap. I bend over at the waist, intentionally keeping my legs straight to hike my ass high into the air as I plunge a large sponge into the soapy water. The suds coat my hands and wrists. I straighten up and begin to meticulously scrub the exterior of my car. I lean my torso heavily over the hood, stretching my arms far out so the tiny triangles of my white bikini top press against the slick, wet metal.

Every movement is exaggerated. Every swipe of the sponge is slow, deliberate, and designed to draw attention to the curves of my body. The cleaner the vehicle gets, the wetter I become inside my ridiculously tiny swimwear. The soapy water splashes playfully over my tanned skin, leaving glistening trails down my stomach and thighs. Even from a distance, I can acutely feel Vance’s heavy, heated looks burning into me. The weight of his stare is a physical sensation, like a rough hand sliding over my skin. It makes my heart race. It makes my pussy ache with a deep, throbbing need. The friction of my wet bikini bottoms rubbing against my swollen clit with every step I take around the car only heightens the intense arousal coursing through my veins.

I casually glance over my shoulder, pretending to inspect my handiwork on the passenger door. He is standing there. He hasn't moved an inch from the edge of his property. He leans against the side of his garage now, his thick arms crossed over his bare, tattooed chest. His jaw is locked so hard I can see the muscles ticking beneath his scruff. He is unable to look away from the spectacle I am putting on. The dark ink covering his muscled arms and pecs makes him look dangerous and rugged.

Maintaining intense, unbroken eye contact with him, I slowly raise the nozzle of the hose. I press my thumb down on the metal trigger. I boldly turn the heavy stream of freezing cold water directly onto my own body. The icy shock hits my heated skin, causing a sharp gasp to escape my lips. The cold water cascades over my chest, instantly soaking the thin white fabric of my bikini top. The material becomes sheer, clinging like a second skin. The freezing temperature causes my nipples to instantly bead into tight, painful little pebbles that aggressively poke right through the soaking wet fabric. The rigid peaks demand attention, thrusting forward arrogantly.

It is impossible for him to ignore the spectacular view. I arch my back slightly, thrusting my chest out further, offering him an unobstructed look at the hard tips of my breasts. In return, I certainly cannot ignore the obvious, heavy bulge currently straining against the thick denim of his pants. It looks thicker and more rigid than it did a few minutes ago in the garage. His erection is a solid, undeniable ridge that threatens to burst right through his zipper.

With a triumphant smirk playing on my lips, I confidently release the trigger to shut off the water supply. I drop the heavy hose onto the driveway, letting it clatter against the concrete, and run a hand through my dripping wet hair to push it out of my face. I turn away from my car and stroll casually over to where he is standing on his side of the property line. The water drips from my body, leaving a dark trail on the pavement behind me. I stop just a few feet away from him, taking in the rapid rise and fall of his broad chest. His breathing is ragged.

"See something you like, Vance?" I ask, offering him a playful, wicked wink.

He doesn't answer immediately. His piercing blue eyes drag up and down my drenched body, lingering heavily on my hardened nipples before dropping to the soaked fabric clinging tightly to my crotch. His chest heaves.

"You are a wicked, wicked girl."

He groans the words from deep within his chest. The sound is rough, guttural, and laced with agony. His large hands grip his own muscular biceps with white-knuckled force, his fingers digging into his tattooed skin as he visibly fights the primal urge to reach out and grab me.

I flash him a bright, unapologetic smile. I slowly reach both of my hands up to my chest. I wrap my palms around my own soaking wet breasts, squeezing the soft flesh firmly. I push them together, deepening the cleavage, letting the water drip down the valley between them.

"It’s your fault. If you would stop being such a stubborn ass, then I wouldn’t have to be so wicked."

He remains frozen. He makes no move to stop my brazen display, nor does he tell me to stop or turn away. He is a captive audience to his own lust. Seeing that he is paralyzed by his desire, I close the remaining distance between us in two quick steps. I press my drenched, shivering body flush against his rigid, towering frame. The contrast is intoxicating. My skin is freezing cold and slick with water, while his bare chest is burning hot and damp with his own sweat.

I keep my eyes locked fiercely on his. Without breaking contact, I slowly slide my right hand down my flat, wet stomach. I trail my fingertips deliberately over my skin until I reach the waistband of my soaking wet bikini bottoms. I slip my hand past the elastic edge, pushing beneath the saturated fabric to cup my bare pussy. The immediate contact with my own swollen, slick flesh makes my breath hitch. I am incredibly wet, my natural juices mixing with the cold water to create a slippery, hot mess between my thighs.

"Fucking hell."

He mutters the curse under his breath, his deep voice strained with unbearable tension. His large hands drop from his biceps, gripping the edges of the car behind him to anchor himself, as if touching me would burn him alive.

I part my wet lips and begin to brazenly fuck my own pussy right there in broad daylight. I slide two fingers deep inside my tight, aching opening, stretching the sensitive walls before pulling out and plunging back in. The wet, slapping sound of my fingers fucking my soaking cunt fills the heavy silence between us. I press my body intimately against him, shifting my weight so that my thrusting hand grinds right against his rock-hard erection trapped behind his jeans.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

He growls the question at me. His voice is dangerously low, vibrating through his chest and into mine, hovering right on the edge of snapping.

"You won’t fuck me, Vance, so I have to fuck myself."

I declare it boldly, refusing to back down. I increase the speed of my fingers, pumping rapidly in and out of my slick wetness. The pleasure begins to spiral tight in my lower belly. Leaning forward, I open my mouth and deliberately drag my tongue across his tanned pecs. I taste the rough texture of his skin and lick the salty sweat right off his hot, muscular chest. I am unapologetic for my actions. The musky, masculine scent of him floods my senses, driving my arousal even higher.

"How the hell am I supposed to resist all this toned flesh?"

I murmur against his skin. I don't care in the slightest if the entire neighborhood is watching us through their blinds right now. I want them to see. I want him to know that I am his for the taking, out in the open, shameless. I reach my free left hand around his thick waist and drag my sharp nails firmly down his muscular back. He flinches slightly at the sting, a low rumble escaping his throat, but he still refuses to push me away. I relentlessly chase my own release. My fingers are a blur of motion, rapidly pumping in and out, relentlessly rubbing my swollen clit until the tension reaches a boiling point.

The pleasure builds into a blinding crescendo. I scream out in pure, unfiltered ecstasy. The sound echoes across the quiet suburban lawns. My knees buckle beneath me, my legs turning to jelly, but his solid body keeps me upright. I come incredibly hard against him, my internal muscles forcefully clenching and milking my own fingers while my body shudders against his rigid frame.

Left panting and breathless, my lungs burning for air, I weakly press my forehead against his solid chest to steady myself. The rapid thumping of his heart hammers against my skin. We stand there for several long, agonizing seconds as the aftershocks of my orgasm slowly ripple away.

"Feel better?"

He asks the question through gritted teeth. I tilt my head back to look at him. His piercing blue eyes stare daggers into me. It is a terrifying, electrifying mix of raw fury and unbridled lust.

"Yes, I feel so much better, thank you."

I laugh lightly, my body still feeling dizzy and giddy from the powerful climax.

"Go home, Tessa."

He growls the command, his tone leaving no room for argument. But instead of retreating like a good little girl, I boldly reach my left hand down. I firmly squeeze the thick, rigid length of his cock right through the heavy denim of his jeans. It throbs violently in my grip.

"Too bad you still think I’m too young. I have a feeling you might really like my tight, virgin pussy."

He lets out a feral, actual growl from the very back of his throat. The thick blue vein in his neck ticks wildly in silent rage and suppressed desire. Feeling unrestrained and riding dangerously high on adrenaline, I withdraw my slick, wet right hand from my bikini bottoms. Without a second thought, I deliberately drag my glistening, wet fingers directly across his bare chest. I paint a thick, visible trail of my own sweet pussy juices right over his tense, tattooed muscles.

The look of paralyzed shock that instantly overtakes his handsome face is priceless. He looks down at his chest, frozen, unable to process the sheer audacity of what I have just done. It only causes me to laugh even harder.

"My cum looks good on you, Vance."

I taunt him playfully, satisfied with the havoc I have wrecked on his self-control. I blow him a dramatic kiss, raising my hand to my lips before tossing it in his direction, and finally begin backing away toward my house.

"I’ll be in the pool if you change your mind about fucking my little untouched cunt."

Turning my back on him once more, I decide to leave him with one final image burned into his retinas. I reach down, hook my index fingers under the wet fabric of my bikini bottoms, and forcefully slide it deep between my cheeks. I turn the innocent swimsuit into a makeshift thong, exposing my round cheeks to the open air. I give my bare, wet ass a deliberate, exaggerated wiggle as I skip back into the safety of my own yard. As I walk toward the shimmering water of the pool, I smile, wondering exactly how long it will take for him to finally snap and chase me down.