Don't Mask, Don't Tell

Chapter 42

Axel's dick pushes deeper inside me, stretching my walls with each slow rhythmic movement I make. Closing my eyes, I lose myself to the vibrations, rocking my hips back and forth. Grabbing his hand, I slide it under my dress and take control of my own orgasmic destiny. A chuckle leaves his lips as his eyes widen.

I don't typically take charge, but that approving grin tells me he doesn't mind.

His fingers follow my lead and massage my clit, adding pressure just the way that I like it. My toe-curling climax fast approaches and, based on the way his legs are tensing, his is too.

"I'm close!"

"Come for me, baby," he orders.

Surrendering to the growing ache between my thighs, a rush of adrenaline shoots through my body. I fall forward resting my head at the base of his neck and moan into his skin. My core contracts, tightening around his hardness, pushing him over the edge.

"Oh, fuck." He groans into my ear, digging his fingertips into my hips. His cock pulsates as he guides me up and down his length, riding out his release.

Loud breathing fills the backseat. We don't speak or move for several minutes, drinking in that post-come high. He wraps his arms around me, holding me against his chest. Our bodies rise and fall in tandem to the beat of my racing pulse.

"Ten minutes until we arrive at your destination," Bjorn's voice beams through the car speaker as if on cue.

I lift my leg in an effort to get off Axel's lap, but he holds my waist in place. I look at him confused. "What?"

"I said I wouldn't mess up your hair." Reaching for my headpiece, he adjusts it and tenderly tucks a loose strand of hair in. Chills travel across my skin. His hand lingers on my cheek as he stares into my soul. "I fucking love you, Olivia."

I smile and turn my head, placing a gentle kiss on his palm. "I fucking love you, too."

———

Leaning against the bar, I observe the drunken guests while I wait for Axel to return with more drinks. From poodle skirts to disco jumpers to Woodstock floral and fringe, every decade's on display. In the center of the dance floor Mickey and Eliza steal the show, grinding against one another in Eliza's second costume change for the evening.

As expected, my best friend's vision didn't disappoint. She originally showed up to the event dressed in a sixties theme with big hair and iconic gogo boots. A checkered mini dress with large cut outs revealed as much skin as she possibly could.

After several drinks and a few songs later, she changed into a sheer flare-legged jumpsuit. The dramatic halterneck dropping to her waistline, showing off her toned stomach and most of her boobs.

Mickey matches Liza's late sixties inspiration while taking a modern approach on men's fashion during that period. He leaves his patterned button up open not only exposing his chest, but his entire abdomen.

I don't know if this counts as him finally wearing a shirt.

The gold chain around his neck and flared bell bottoms give off an Austin Powers vibe. Though the mutton chops are a little much.

Averting my gaze, I turn towards the bar as they basically fuck on the dance floor. A heavy musky aroma of cheap cologne mixed with tobacco penetrates my nostrils. Before he can speak, I already know who's standing next to me. I straighten my back and white knuckle the glass in my hand. Glancing over my opposite shoulder at the staggeringly long line waiting for drinks, I say a silent prayer for Axel to hurry up.

Please save me from this fucking creep.

"Evening, Olivia."

Fixating on the LED lighted liquor shelves, I twirl my empty glass, clanking the ice cubes together. "Chad."