Singe by Ruby McNally Page B

for sure. He wonders if she wore the knee socks.
    “You’re a trip, Manzella,” he tells her, instead of asking. He wants to touch her, her flushed hollow cheeks or her curly hair, but politeness makes him reach for the underside of her arm. He pets her silky wrist, runs a finger across her curled knuckles. Addie hums.
    “See?” she says, slurring the words. She lets her mouth get nice and sloppy, which Eli appreciates in a blowjob. “Manzellas repay their debts.”
    The next time she swallows, Eli lets his finger trail across her bottom lip, right where it’s stretched out around him. Chelsea used to roll her eyes when he did that, how she knew he was doing it to feel big. “Never questioned you,” he promises Addie, shifting his weight. Chelsea’s Protestant. He’s not thinking about Chelsea. Knee socks, and a tartan skirt, and a tie you could grab, and— “Shit, yeah.”
    Addie laughs, pulling off him. “Warn me,” she commands, making eye contact. Eli’s dick twitches again at the sound of her voice. When she leans back down he touches her ear, then her cheek. Before his finger can reach her mouth again, Addie grabs his hand with an iron grip, curling it around the back of her scalp.
    “Don’t be a pussy,” she tells him and ducks her head one more time.
    Fuck. “ Fuck ,” Eli says, tangling his fingers in her knotty hair, everything about her warm warm warm. He closes his eyes, opens them again. Watches. She hasn’t been taking him too deep up to now so he doesn’t push or anything, is real gentle about it—he doesn’t want to hurt her, obviously, on top of which he just wants to be able to convince her to do this again. Like. All the time. “Oh my God, Addie.” It’s not going to take him much longer, how she’s definitely got an end goal now, speeding up and sucking harder. It’s right on the edge of being too rough. “Addie, baby. Gonna come.”
    “Mmm.” She nods and pulls off then, replacing her mouth with her wet, slippery palm, stroking in circles over the head of his cock until Eli jerks up into her hand. He comes hard , all over her fingers and everywhere, wave after wave of the feeling. Addie rests her head against his rib cage while it happens, both of them breathing hard. Eli holds on tight.
    “Okay,” she says once he’s finished, huffing out a laugh and sitting up slowly. She looks dazed. “I’ve got—here, wait.” She reaches across him and opens the glove compartment, produces a stack of Dunkin’ Donuts napkins. “Here.”
    Eli takes them and wipes off her palm first, scrubbing each individual finger. She’s got pretty hands, Addie, tiny and quick. The tops of her forearms are tanned a deeper olive than the rest of her. “Crap,” he swears as the napkin balls up, pieces sticking. “Sorry.”
    Addie rolls her eyes and reaches up under his uniform, wiping her palm off on his T-shirt. “You mind?” she asks belatedly. Her voice is as bright and fake as artificial sweetener.
    Eli grins and hauls her close by her ponytail, biting his way into her mouth. Addie lets him go for a good minute, minute and a half, holding her own with an aggressive tongue and teeth. Then she pulls away. “We better go.”
    Eli really, really doesn’t want to move anywhere that doesn’t involve her mouth, his dick and this car. “Okay.” He rubs at her thigh, warm through her uniform pants. “You sure you don’t want…?”
    Addie shakes her head. “Uh-huh. We’re even now, remember? That’s it.” Before Eli can say anything else, she’s turning the key in the ignition, throwing an arm up over the back of the passenger’s seat to back out of their shady spot. “Better zip up,” she adds, nodding toward his lap.

Chapter Seven
    “So okay,” Addie tells Jenn over drinks. This Thursday’s family dinner was steak with blue cheese butter, and when Diana skipped her wineglass again, Addie went ahead and poured half the bottle for herself. “It wasn’t a one-time