Free Scandal in Seattle by Nicole Williams

condom down his shaft.
    Slowly.
    With your mouth.
    “Oh, hell yes, baby. Now we’re talking.” Ian’s fingers wove through my hair, and he guided me a bit forcefully. After a few seconds, that flash and what it meant was a distant memory.
    Having to be just as forceful as he was, I yanked my head away from his packaged, ready, and if I’d been a virgin bride on my wedding night, rather disappointing dick. I lay back over the hood. Time to get it over with.
    Ian almost pounced on me, his hips frantically trying to gain purchase. Done with the swing-and-miss routine, I grabbed hold of him and guided him the rest of the way. When he entered me, it wasn’t slowly. Or gently.
    “That feels so damn good,” he panted outside of my ear, driving a little deeper. “You’re not a virgin are you, babe? You’re so damn tight I’m starting to wonder.”
    That’s because I do more Kegels than the girlfriend of a rock band’s lead singer. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. I’d done that more than usual with the Hendrik Errand. “No, I’m not a virgin.” And if I was, the last place and person I’d want to lose it with would be here and with you.
    “Good. That means I don’t have to play gentle.” Grabbing my breasts with both hands, he moved inside of me. That was my cue to go somewhere else. I knew Ian wouldn’t take long, a minute or two max, but I didn’t want to be present for those one or two minutes. A one-minute memory of Ian Hendrik rutting against me was enough to cause some serious psychological damage.
    Right before I went to my “happy place,” I lifted my hand to the side and raised my middle finger. Stupid Contacts. My job would be twice as easy if not for the incompetent people I dealt with along the way.
    Thankfully, my mind didn’t escape to Henry. Thankfully, that time, it wasn’t his body I felt moving against mine. Thankfully, it wasn’t the memory of the things he’d do and say when we’d made love that flashed into my head. I knew to be thankful for those things, but it was difficult to feel genuinely thankful for some reason.
    I guessed it was a reason I didn’t want to dive too deeply into.
    When Ian shuddered in what I guessed was closer to the minute mark, I almost shoved him off of me. As far as my part went, the Errand was done. I’d closed it successfully, and he was one Target I couldn’t wait to put as much space between us as possible. Ian Hendrik was one of the reasons God should never have created man in the whole creation-of-the-earth thing. Talk about a bad idea.
    “So? How was it?” Ian smiled stupidly, breathing like he’d just run a marathon. “Pretty damn fantastic, right?”
    I’d already adjusted my dress and was back into the heel I’d taken off. “You really are quite the man, Ian.”
    His expression went smug. “Did I rock your world or what?”
    I don’t know what it was, maybe because he was still standing buck naked in the middle of a race track with a stupid grin on his face, or maybe it was because he thought sixty seconds of pumping was enough to rock a girl’s world, but I almost laughed. Laughter came so close to slipping out, but I bit it back just in time.
    “Not as much as I’ve rocked yours, Ian.” Flashing him a wink, I slid into the Acura, fired it up, and sped past Ian Hendrik with his pants still around his ankles.
     

 
     

     
     
    THANKS TO IAN Hendrik, the one-minute-to-blast-off lover, I arrived at SEA-TAC with plenty of time to spare. I parked the Acura, said goodbye to it, and was about to pat the hood when I thought the better of it. That hood had seen plenty of action; no need for any more. I didn’t know who or how our cars for each Errand were delivered and returned, but it wasn’t my concern. G took care of it, and as long as she kept sending sweet, fast cars my way, I wouldn’t complain.
    Once I’d texted the V for victory to both G and Mrs. Hendrik, I disposed of the phones as I’d been taught, grabbed a quick