Wet : The Pickup
He was only supposed to be inside for five minutes. She fixed laptops from her little flat above the corner store — everyone knew her as good with circuits and keys and secrets. He knocked, she opened the door wearing nothing but a loose tank top and soft shorts that looked more like panties.
“Hey,” she said, brushing a twist of hair behind her ear. “Got your laptop working again. Wanna check it?”
He stepped inside. Rain pattered against the window, the smell of solder and cheap jasmine candles hanging in the air. She bent over the table, showing him the open screen, the blinking cursor. He was trying not to look at the curve of her ass. He really was.
“My girlfriend’s in the car,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “So—”
“Five minutes,” she purred. “Won’t take long.”
It didn’t. One kiss. One slow drag of her nails down his stomach. She sank to her knees on the threadbare carpet, tugged his jeans open. He told himself to stop her. He told himself this was insane. But her mouth was warm and slick and too damn good. The way she moaned around him made his knees buckle.
He finished faster than he wanted to. Came with his hand fisted in her hair, trying not to say her name too loud. He zipped up, breath ragged, heart hammering — fuck. The car. His girlfriend. He muttered thanks, grabbed the laptop, bolted for the door without looking back.
She followed him out — barefoot, hair wild, mouth swollen and wet. The rain caught her shoulders, made her tank top cling to her nipples.
“Hey!” she called out, loud enough to cut through the drumming rain. His girlfriend rolled down the window, confusion flickering across her pretty face.
The girl laughed — a sharp, wicked sound that sliced the night open.
“Hey babe!” she called to the girlfriend. “You might wanna ask him what he left in my mouth before he ran out with his laptop.”
Silence. His girlfriend’s eyes flicked from him to the girl and back. The rain kept pouring. No one moved for a long second. He wanted the ground to swallow him. And the girlfriend — her face went white, then red.
Wet till dawn — not the rain this time.
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