New Car Smell

"Okay, give Mommy a hug!"

Heavy footsteps echoed down the hall as my four year old barreled towards me with the force of a hurricane, nearly knocking me over in the process. I laughed, barely reaching my arms around him before he ran off towards my mother's old Chevy van -- a relic from the days when I'd still lived at home.

God, had it already been ten years?

My son turned and waved as he reached the van. "Bye, Mom!"

I waved back as he climbed in, watching to make sure my mother fastened his booster seat correctly. Damn things were a pain to do up even when you knew how.

I waved at my daughter, who was already seated and buckled in.

"Bye, Charlotte, I love you! Have a good time with Grandma!"

She looked at me, forced a smile, and turned away. I rolled my eyes. She was only six, but her attitude was that of a girl twice her age. At least.

The beautiful summer sun warmed my skin as I stood just outside the front door and waved like a fool as my Mom drove away, laughing as my son mimicked my actions.

My eyes followed the van as it drove down the street and disappeared around the corner. Only then did I let loose a sigh of relief. Freedom! I did a little happy dance as I closed the door, excited at the prospect of having almost an entire day by myself.

Don't get me wrong, I love my children, but some days you just need to be alone, you know? Today, the day I was finally going to buy a van, was one of them.

I'd been fighting it for almost seven years -- since the day I found out I was pregnant, actually. The vision of my older self had haunted me for months: Fifty pounds heavier, wearing stained sweatpants and yelling at my kids as I threw open the door of a minivan. No. Fucking. Way -- I'd never drive one.

That's the fun of life, isn't it? No matter what bullshit you come up with about your future, you're always wrong. Every single time.

It really was time to retire the little four door Mazda I'd had for eight years. It had treated me well, but enough was enough. I was tired of having my seat kicked when I drove. I was tired of my kids being close enough to hit each other. I was especially tired of having no goddamn room for anything larger than a suitcase.

Finally, after years of scrimping and saving, my husband and I had come up with enough to put a healthy down payment on a new van -- and finance it for a few years.

I was excited to get a new vehicle. Even if it was a minivan.

Sighing, I shook my head. Hard to believe that was the most exciting part of my life. But, as a thirty year old with two kids, you take what you can get.

I ran upstairs to change, trying to ignore the piles of folded laundry still sitting on my husband's side of the room. I scowled, muttering curses under my breath. It wasn't enough that I did his laundry, he bloody well expected me to put it away, too.

Ugh. Men. How they ever earned the title 'head of the household' was beyond me. Every woman knows who really runs a home. I tried to imagine my husband tackling even half the work I did on any given day. We both worked full time, but it was always up to me to clean, make meals, and pay the bills.

I laughed out loud. He wouldn't make it an hour.

Still smiling, I approached my closet. Okay. Time for clothes, not thoughts about douchebag husbands. He was gone for the day -- playing golf with his buddies.

I took a deep breath. Out of sight, out of mind.

Four outfits later, I'd settled on dark skinny jeans, a long flowing shirt in emerald green that hit right in the center of my ass, and black calf-length heeled boots I'd only worn once since buying them a year ago. I'd fallen in love with them at the store, but never really had a reason to wear them.

I wasn't usually one of those desperate women who confused the grocery store with a nightclub. Today, however? I totally was.

I checked myself out in the mirror and smiled at what I saw. My body may have been through two births, but I'd managed to slim back down to my pre-pregnancy size ten a couple of years ago. No modeling agency would ever break down my door, but I thought my weight suited my five foot eight frame pretty well.

Sauntering to the bathroom, I completed my yummy mommy transformation with a bit of powder, some eyeshadow and a touch of mascara. I looked hot, if I didn't say so myself.

My self confidence was soaring, something I rarely indulged in. Sure, my kids told me I was pretty -- which always made me smile -- but it wasn't the same as a man telling me. My husband hadn't told me I was pretty in years. Since I had the kids, actually.

I wrecked my body to bear his children and suddenly I'm no good for him?

Fuck him.

I banished him from my mind once more and shot myself a sexy smile in the mirror. The purple on my lids warmed the hazel of my eyes, and my shoulder-length chestnut hair was tumbling to my shoulders in soft waves. Hot. Even my cleavage was looking pretty stellar, all round and delectable in my rarely used push-up bra.

Who says you can't toot your own horn once in awhile? I hadn't bothered to look this good in years, so I was damn well going to make sure someone appreciated it. Even if that someone was myself.

I sighed. When had I become so pathetic?

Probably the day your husband stopped looking at you like a woman and began seeing you as his caregiver.

Right.

I scowled. Enough of this shit.

I checked my watch. Good. Only 9:30. Plenty of time to check out a couple of places before lunch.

* * *

Half an hour later, I was praying no one had noticed my rusty old Mazda pulling into the Chrysler dealership. I was hoping to scope out a few vehicles on my own before the sales vultures swarmed. It was a beautiful day, though, so no doubt I had only minutes. Better hurry.

Rushing out of the car, I walked as briskly as I could to the line of vans I'd seen on the drive in.

Nary a salesman in sight. Perfect.

The first two vehicles I dismissed right away. White and silver. Boring! I saw twelve of those a day.

Looking down the row, my eyes zeroed in on a dazzling, electric blue finish. Now there was a colour you didn't see on a van every day. I walked towards it, intent on my mission.

"Do you need any help, Ma'am?"

Jesus! I jumped a little at the sound of a man's voice behind me.

Christ, these salesmen were quick. I must have been out here not three minutes.

I turned and smiled, noticing his eyes running up and down my body before landing on my chest. He was probably fifteen years older than me, but it felt damn good to be checked out.

I wasn't ready for any sales pitches, however. I wanted to take the time to pick the right vehicle for my family.

"No thanks, just looking for now." I turned away, hoping he got the picture. He hesitated, but I kept my back to him -- the universal sign of 'Fuck off, I don't want to talk to you.'

"Okay, well let me know if you'd like to take one of them for a spin. My name's William."

I smiled in his direction but refused to make eye contact, listening as his footsteps retreated. Phew.

Reviewing the sheet of paper stuck to the window, I noticed the price was a little steep, but it was still in my range. I scanned the list of features, eyes widening at the mention of heated seats and a DVD player.

The annual trek to my in laws every Christmas was starting to seem almost bearable: Instead of the usual two hour hell of fighting and kicking and punching, I imagined my warm, relaxed back muscles and the peaceful sounds of a movie playing in the back. No fighting. No yelling. No hair pulling.

Oh yes. This is beginning to look like the van for me.

I opened the sliding door and leaned in to take a look. Both the seats and the interior were a dark charcoal, which added more points in my books. The darker the seats, the more stains they hid.

Looking around, I realized the van had more technology in the console on the ceiling than my old car did on its entire dashboard.

Score! Technolust began running through me.

I reached up and pressed a button, causing a monitor to swing down above the rear seats. How cool was that? I was definitely in love.

"I've heard those come in handy on long trips."

My whole body jumped at the sound of the confident male voice behind me. Where the hell had he come from?

Recovering -- barely -- I turned around to tell the guy that yes, the DVD player would come in handy on long trips, now please leave me alone; but the words died in my throat at the sight of him.

The man -- no, god -- standing in front of me was easily six four, his short black hair totally rocking the 'just got out of bed' look. His chocolate brown eyes were shining down at me in amusement, and his delicious mouth was curved up on one end, creating the hint of a dimple on his otherwise flawless face.

He was younger than me, for sure. His skin was too smooth. I had an overwhelming urge to run my hands up his perfectly chiseled jaw to tangle in his hair as I pulled him towards me to -- Jesus. I needed to get a grip.

But god, look at the size of those arms. Easily the width of my thighs. I could picture the sculpted pecs and taut stomach hidden under the crisp blue shirt and coal trousers, which caused my face to get hot and a tingle to spread between my legs.

My taste buds itched to sample him -- if he tasted anything like the raw essence of man already flirting with my nostrils, he would be delicious. I longed to run my tongue down his perfectly formed abs, following the trail down from his belly button until I could take him in my mouth and -- I exhaled, much too loudly.

The smirk on his face widened as he narrowed his eyes a little, reminding me of a cat who'd cornered a mouse. He'd caught me staring, and he liked it.

A hand thrust out before me.

"Name's Marcus. Sorry I startled you."

There wasn't a chance he actually felt bad, but I was too flustered to utter anything other than a polite "Laurie, and it's okay," as I shook his hand. So warm.

I wondered how many fingers he could fit inside me. His hands were gigantic.

Fuck. I was losing my mind over this man. I might as well be wearing a sign that said 'Desperate for sex!'

"So, you're looking for a van?" His gaze swept over my body and I had to suppress a shudder. The heat of his eyes made me feel naked. "You don't look old enough to be needing one."

I should have been angry with this salesman, this Marcus, for being so inappropriate. Instead, I was flattered. My cheeks burned with it. That, and desire.

This man should be half naked in an issue of Cosmo, not trying to sell me a minivan.

He looked at me expectantly and I returned his gaze. Right! His comment. I needed to get a grip, so I laughed and brought a hand to my chest. "Actually, I've got two kids, but thanks for the compliment."

"No kidding!" Marcus actually looked shocked. Score one for me. He eyeballed me for a moment before switching gears. "What do you think of this one?"

"Well, I love the colour. So glad there's more than just boring old grey or black," I began, knowing I was about to babble. I couldn't help it. Anything to get my mind off his sexy body.

"I really like how spaced out the seats are, and the DVD player would be a life saver." I looked right at him and smirked. "Do you know what it's like travelling for hours with two kids under ten?" He shook his head. I thought not. "It's hell."

"Well then," Marcus began, "how about you hop in the front and take a look. See how it feels in your hands."

I nearly gasped as the image of his cock in my hands assaulted my mind. I could feel it -- hard, yet velvety soft as I stroked it.

So desperate, Laurie. So fucking desperate.

Marcus noticed my hesitation and gave me one of his disarming smirks. "Go ahead. It won't bite."

Almost shivering with desire, I climbed into the driver's seat. The sheer volume of technology distracted me from my sinful thoughts, thankfully, and I felt sympathy for seniors just discovering the internet. Radio controls on the steering wheel for god's sake. How awesome was that?

I looked around, intimidated by the number of buttons, dials and screens this thing had. I began to feel old and out of touch.

The door clicked open and I jumped. Damn that Marcus. He merely smiled as I shot him a scowl, his voice lowering seductively as a brow arched in question.

"You want to take it for a drive?"

More than you can imagine.

"Um, sure. Yeah." Stumbling and stuttering, my blood pressure rose to dangerous levels.

"Wait there. I'll be right back."

A breath escaped that I hadn't even realized I'd been holding. What in the hell was I doing? I felt like a hormone-riddled teen.

No, just a woman who hasn't had the satisfaction of good sex in about seven years.

The truth of it bruised my ego and I frowned -- just a little. But not enough to knock me off cloud nine. My heart pounded, blood rushing through me in invigorating waves. I hadn't felt that good in a long time.

I jolted in surprise as the passenger door opened, admitting a smiling Marcus dangling a set of keys on his finger. That mouth of his could drown a woman's underwear. Had, actually, because mine were soaked. I squirmed a little, hoping the seat wasn't getting wet.

I grabbed the keys as he hopped in and did up his seat belt.

Oh god. He was coming with me? How in the hell was I going to concentrate on the road?

"Hope you don't mind me tagging along." He shot me another panty-melting smile.

My hands shook a little as I buckled my own seat belt and turned the key.

"Um, no, not at all."

I forced myself to look ahead and focus on driving.

Breathe, Laurie. This goddamn van is worth tens of thousands of dollars. You can't afford to wrap it around a pole.

His voice, so smooth and seductive it should be illegal, rolled across my eardrums.

"Go where you like, but I suggest taking it on the highway. That way you can really get a feel for how it handles."

I'd rather get a feel for how you handle, you delicious hunk of man.

He chuckled to himself, the bastard. He knew what he was doing to me.

* * *

Twenty minutes of agonizing quiet later, we were zooming along the highway. As it turned out, the minivan's powerful engine was impressive. Although to be honest, a moped probably packed more of a punch than my aging Mazda.

"Pull off up here," Marcus pointed ahead, while I struggled to save face. Once again, he'd managed to startle me.

"Oh, I suppose we'd better get back, huh? They'll be wondering what took us so long." I giggled like a nervous school girl.

"Indeed," he murmured. I shot him a look, but he was all innocence, peering out the windshield as if admiring the view.

Mentally shrugging, I steered onto the off ramp and proceeded into the left turn lane, following the signs that pointed back to the highway.

"Turn right," he demanded. There was an edge to his voice that I dared not question... so, right it was. Up ahead was a car pool lot, and he told me to find a good spot and park.

Lust, excitement and disbelief swept through me, sizzling on my skin and pooling between my legs.

What is going on? This cannot be going where I think it is. I'm just too horny for my own good, right? Right?!

The van's engine had barely cut off before Marcus was out the door, growling at me to do the same. I heard the passenger side sliding door open, and an impatient male throat clearing. I snapped my gaze to his, and he raised a hand to point at the sliding door on my side.

I fumbled with the seat belt and got out, slamming the door in my excitement. Oops. It was probably a good thing I was seriously considered purchasing it.

I slid the door open and shot Marcus a look through my lashes. I waited for him; he was calling the shots -- I was merely playing the game.

"I think you'll like this feature," he said with a smirk, his voice gone husky. My legs buckled a little and I braced myself on the seat.

This man should be illegal.

He pulled up a panel on the floor in front of the cabin seat, revealing a storage compartment. Handy. I did like it. My interest turned to astonishment as the seat folded into itself and fit snugly into the space in the floor. Marcus replaced the floor panel, all traces of the seat gone.

Holy shit. What I wouldn't have given for a vehicle like this as a teen.

Dragging myself back to the present, I followed his example; within thirty seconds my seat had disappeared as well.

"Get in." He closed his door as I nervously did as I was told, shutting the door behind me. I was worried someone might see us, and by closing the doors, I felt safer. I sent a silent prayer of thanks to Chrysler for tinting the windows so heavily.

I sat on the carpeted floor and giggled. This van, that I was planning on buying because I had children, was actually the perfect vehicle for a quick fuck.

They need to start marketing it to college kids. I bet they'd make a killing.

The rear hatch of the van snicked open, and Marcus fiddled with something at the back. My mouth dropped open as the back bench seats were folded into the floor.

College kids. Definitely for college kids.

Marcus climbed in the back, closing the hatch behind him. He turned to face me, and I froze. His brown eyes were smoldering, almost black with desire.

Jesus. This mountain of muscle wanted me. Bursts of desire ignited straight in my core and I gasped. He smiled, all teeth. A predator after his prey. My heart rate soared as my stomach clenched in anticipation.

Marcus crawled on all fours towards me, grabbed my leg and pulled me under him. He stared down at me, smiling once more as he took in my laboured breathing and flushed skin. The heat from his gaze travelled down from my lips to my chest, resting on the plunging vee of my shirt.

Thank god I wore my push-up bra today.

"'I've wanted you from the moment I saw that tight little ass poking out of the van." His voice was laced with desire, and my insides pulsed in response.

I didn't get a chance to respond, however, as his mouth crashed down onto mine, forcing my lips open. Our tongues tangled in a feverish dance for domination, and he began pushing his hips into me. I moaned as I felt his erection pressing against me. I needed him like I needed air to breathe.

Clawing at his tightly muscled ass, I pulled Marcus hard against me. He needed to know how much I wanted him. He groaned in response, pulling back from my mouth to settle his molten gaze on me. I stared, mesmerized by the flecks of gold in his lust-darkened eyes.

He smirked and hastily undid my jeans, peeling them down to my calves.

"Fucking boots!" Marcus snarled as he ripped the left one off to get my pant leg down. He ignored the other side, leaving my pants in a tangled mess on my right leg.

Marcus fumbled with his own pants, pulling them down to his ankles. His erection strained against his black boxer briefs, and I reached forward to rub it through the thin fabric. A moan of pleasure was my reward, and he closed his eyes.

Without warning, he grabbed my wrist and restrained my arm above my head.

"You want it that bad, huh?" His husky voice sent vibrations through me, and I squirmed against him. He hooded his eyes as one side of his mouth quirked up, an almost evil curve to it. "Oh you're going to fucking get it."

He released his cock from the confines of his underwear and I inhaled sharply.

Marcus chuckled, loving my reaction. He pushed my sopping panties aside and hissed. "So fucking wet already. Your husband doesn't take care of you."

It wasn't a question.

One strong hand planted itself beside me while the other released my wrist. Marcus teased my slick folds with the tip of his penis and a moan escaped my lips. I raised my hips in frustration.