Watching Joker eat was like watching a wolf tear into a baby lamb that was too weak to fight back. She didn't think she could constitute what he was doing as eating; so much as it was scarfing down everything in his line of sight. Just as well, he must have never been introduced to the function of a napkin as his vest and dress shirt was soon littered with crumbs and various sauces; fingers nearly slick with grease.
"How long has it been since you ate?" she asked, hoping she didn't sound overly concerned.
"Mmm…two days?" he guessed, finishing up the rest of his shrimp po'boy with a ravenous bite. "It'da been sooner, but I had to do an uh annual employee performance review. Loooong overdue."
She debated whether to press him for further information. She couldn't imagine this review being a positive thing for his underlings.
I'm not going to like what I hear. Perhaps it's best to leave this stone unturned.
"Go ahead and ask," he said, picking up on her nonverbal curiosity. "It was inspired by your little stun-t with Acey. Had to…re-evaluate my men's priorities. Gil was usually in charge of that department but…well… what's left of him anyway passed through Countess and Jolly Jane's system 'bout…mmmm…four days ago?"
Her brows scrunched together.
"Countess and Jolly Jane?"
"Yup." He was eyeing her with a grin that made her skin crawl. "They're my best gals…spoiled rotten if you ask me, but I'm helpless when it comes to 'em."
Please…please let him be talking about…not what I think he's talking about.
"C'mon sweetheart," he goaded, eyes shining at her visible discomfort. "I know you're just dying to ask. So…go ahead and as-k."
On two separate occasions, Celine had the misfortune of briefly glimpsing some of the more severe injuries Bruce had suffered in his spats with Joker. One had been on his calf, the other his forearm. Both areas of flesh looked like a mouthful of incisors had latched on to him, shook him like a ragdoll before spitting him out. She'd never asked about the source of the injuries…this was still at a time when he didn't know that she knew he was Batman.
But her gut concluded all she needed to know. Similarly, Joker had mentioned it in passing during their viewing of Rock of Love. He had dogs. Large ones. And they appeared to be just as bloodthirsty as their master.
"German Shepherds, right?" she confirmed, internally grateful her voice didn't quiver.
"Yup." He was practically salivating at the prospect of telling her. "Stole 'em a few years back from a ah…not so nice man. Poor things needed to be tranquilized a few times before they could relax enough to be trained. After a little guidance…a little firm male leadership… they ended up the best pooches a guy could want. And I'll let you in on a secret - males might be the more advantageously aggressive, but females are far more loyal. You can have the most aggressive pooch in the world at your beck and call, but they're nothing without obedience to their master."
"You think loyalty and obedience are the same thing?"
"When you're loyal, you obey. One is a byproduct of the other. Two ducks, same pond."
That's…intriguing. He wants loyalty not just in his dogs, but those who work for him too. He'll dominate them into it if he has to…to ensure utter dedication to him. Why? To make up for what? Something had to have served as a catalyst. The type of person who demands blind allegiance…could it be they do so because they were deprived of it in early life?
"By whom?" she nearly asked out loud; catching her tongue at the last minute.
Joker was monitoring her expressions closely.
"No need to be jealous," he assured, throwing an arm around her headrest. "There's plenty of me to go around."
She ignored the jibe, mind elsewhere.
He fed Gil…to his dogs. And they passed him…four days ago.
"Jesus," she blurted, shaking her head. "Was that not overkill? Was torturing him and removing his body parts not enough? A gunshot couldn't have sufficed?".
"No method of death should be the same," he insisted. "That's what makes what I do so exciting. Death is inevitable…predictable…now how you go about it…that's where you can really let your creativity run wild."
She grimaced.
He's no doubt considered my end numerous times. What was it he'd said…I wasn't someone he wanted to prolong the suffering of? There's that at least. It'll be neat and quick…hopefully.
"I'd have thought in the aftermath of your playtime with him," he observed, "you'd be just a teeny bit more grateful to me."
"Grateful for what exactly? I didn't ask you to kill him. A lifetime prison sentence would have been just as appropriate."
He went quiet, prompting a glance from her. Did she set him off with her lack of gratitude?
Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth. What was John hinting at when we discussed the saying? The punishment inflicted has to fit the crime enacted. Jack… went above and beyond. Back then, such extreme measures were only warranted if…
"Why would you care if he disrespected me?" she asked. "He was doing his job…he was being a loyal employee, just like you wanted."
He still didn't say anything, but he did remove the arm behind her and opted to stare ahead.
She thought to press the issue but decided against it. His body language indicated growing tension. She needed to tread carefully.
It was only when they were crossing the bridge over the Piscataqua River – the last stretch of mileage before they were in Maine – that Joker finally broke the silence.
"He ran his mouth."
He cracked his neck once to the right, then once to the left.
"And I wasn't lying you know," he continued, glancing at her. "He really did have it bad for me. While that made his loyalty all the more…beneficial, it also meant…not so nice things for anyone who dared inconvenience me. I could care less he threatened you…it's a natural reaction to being made an idiot of. His problem was…not letting it…go. He knew you were special…knew I was fond of you…had I let him live, you'd have died in a very impure way. And that…that is a privilege inherently mine, no one else's."
I guess I understand why my lack of gratitude aggravates him. I'm alive and in one piece because he killed Gil when he had the chance. Plus…he'd said during his hospital visit that there was a threat of rape made. Declaring my death being his privilege sorta feels like being pissed on by an overly territorial dog, but…I get it.
Her eyes shot to the blue sign they were passing on the righthand side of the road.
'WELCOME TO MAINE. The Way Life Should Be.'
"Thank you," she said, relaxing back into the seat. "For saving my life. I…mean it this time."
She saw him flinch out of the corner of her eye.
This might be the first time he's being praised as a savior and not a fiend. A day of new emotions for him to process…if fate is on my side, I won't sustain any injuries as a result.
"There are other ways for you to express your…thanks," he remarked, eyeing her with a tilt of the head. "I was thinking-."
"A thank you is all you're getting," she interrupted.
"Spoilsport," he mumbled.
His tone was thankfully lighter. The thunderstorm had been averted…this time.
In hindsight, she should have been paying more attention to what Joker was doing.
However, entering her home state had her contemplating what she was going to tell her friends and family about him. She didn't know if he planned to be in his full Joker regalia, face paint and all. She didn't know how to explain the scars. She'd be at a loss for words if they recognized him.
As Celine was ruminating on all this, Joker gathered all the empty bags he'd gone through (with the exception of one sitting in between his feet), bunched them together until they were one crinkled ball, then tossed them out the window; leaving them to tumble onto the highway.
She only caught on to what he'd done when she noticed a blur of white in the rearview mirror.
"Dude," she scolded. "Why? You could've tossed them in the backseat if they were bothering you so much. I'd have thrown them out at the next gas station."
Joker shrugged, crossing his ankles together.
"Why wait?"
She worked on reeling in her frustration.
"I don't know how far along in school you got, but we've only got one habitable planet in the solar system. One. And we've not been very good guests to her. You want to upend societal norms? Wreak havoc and dismantle the establishment? Go for it. But you keep that shit up and you're not going to have a planet to do all that on."
He snorted.
"I'll be long dead before I see those consequences come to fruition. And that was nothing compared to the global poisoning of your precious little planet by multi-billion-dollar corporations and fossil fuel industries. So…be a dear and redirect your sentiments to those responsible, hm?"
His apathy dug deep under her skin, but she shouldn't have expected anything less.
How do I get through to him that if we can't save the world on a massive scale, we can at least start locally?
Her musings were halted by the sudden wail of a siren. Seconds later, red and blue lights were flashing in her rearview mirror.
Please be after someone else. Please be after someone else.
The State cruiser sped up one car length behind her but made no move to pass.
"Damn it."
As Celine flicked on her blinker to pull aside, she rapidly relayed some orders to Joker.
"Do not say a word, please. I can't afford for this to turn into anything more than a ticket."
AKA I'm fucked if they check the trunk.
"Don't antagonize them, don't give them a reason to use brute force…just…for once in your life…stay quiet."
He was smirking at her, stroking one of his scars. It's something she noticed he did when contemplating something.
"No promises," was all he answered with.
When her car was in park, she swiftly reached over to the glove compartment and removed her driver's license, insurance, and car registration.
By the time she had straightened up, the police officer had exited his cruiser and was strolling toward her side of the vehicle.
Just…relax. I've been pulled over with items of interest in my vehicle before. The key is to be as agreeable, as nonchalant as possible.
It wasn't so much the encounter she worried about, but rather her passenger seat companion. He loathed law enforcement more than most and was inclined to rattle them out of a personal pleasure. She hoped to any entity listening that this officer wasn't one worth the effort of provoking.
"Afternoon ma'am."
The officer was not much taller than her, which allowed him the luxury of not having to bend over to speak. The nametag on his uniform read E. Rubin. Most of his face was hidden away by black aviator glasses. One glance at his impeccable buzzcut and she knew this wasn't someone to let harmless misdemeanors slide.
"Afternoon, sir," she answered, offering him a light smile.
"License, registration, and proof of insurance."
She handed them over, relieved to see her hand wasn't shaking. That was a good sign.
Accept the ticket and you're home free.
He returned to his cruiser to run her license.
"You sure you don't want my help?" Joker pestered. "I can make this situation turn out very… favorably for you."
"Favorably for me means unfavorably for someone else."
"Yeah, your point?"
She stifled a sigh.
"No thank you."
"One of these days you're gonna be in a pickle…a real jam. When that day comes, I'll consider helping you…but only if you beg. On your knees."
She made to respond, but the officer was nearly back to her window.
"Everything checks out," he stated, resting the side of his arm on the hood of her car. "We drop a little something outside about a mile back?"
"Yes, I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking. Error in judgment on my part."
E. Rubin sniffed.
"The object came out of your passenger side window."
It was then that E. Rubin did lean down some, focusing his attention for the first time on Joker beside her.
Though the sunglasses clouded his reaction, he gave himself away in other ways. His shoulders barely contained a recoil. His upper lip curled up ever so slightly. His nostrils flared, as if he'd scented something unpleasant.
"Him? No need to be spooked, he just finished up a horror-themed photo shoot," she explained before his suspicion could transcend to a demand for identification. "For a friend of ours studying film at Dartmouth."
"Afternoon, Officer," Joker greeted lazily, looking more at ease than he had a right being. "What can we do ya for?"
His playful tone caused E. Rubin to frown.
"Did you deposit garbage out of your window about a mile back?"
"Garbage…garbage…" He was tapping his chin. "Ahh…not that I recall. Like my…wife told ya, she had a wee error in judgment. Susceptible to it every now and again."
He ruffled her hair.
She was so very, very tempted to smack him.
"But that's alllll-right." He was now stroking the back of her neck with the side of his thumb. "I'll be sure to punish her accordingly later this ev-e-ning."
E. Rubin was less than amused with this response.
"Littering in the State of Maine is finable up to $500. I'd re-evaluate your lax attitude."
Before Joker could stir the pot any further, Celine turned to him.
"Honey." She had to force that one out. "I'm in the wrong, there's no need to defend me."
Joker leaned toward her, pouting slightly. His hand behind her moved to stroke her cheek. Both eyes were firmly trained on her mouth.
"But angel, I can't help it. You just…you…drive me…wild. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you…even if you're in the wrong."
Though his words were an act, her heart couldn't tell the difference. She could feel it accelerate in speed while melting at the same time.
"That's kind of you, darling dear. But you can't always fight my battles for me."
His eyes shot up to hers.
"I can try."
This roleplay shouldn't be turning me on.
She tore her gaze away from his simmering one and instead looked back at the officer.
He was busy scribbling something out on the pad of paper in his hand. Her registration, insurance, and ID were tucked under one armpit.
"I don't think your…companion understands the gravity of your offense. Let us hope this helps teach him."
He extended a slip to her. She accepted and flipped it over.
Son of a fuck.
He'd fined her the full $500.
E. Rubin then extended a second slip of paper to her, causing her brows to furrow.
"Your…companion…isn't wearing a seatbelt."
She grabbed the second ticket, forcing down a heavy groan.
$50. Fantastic. He's not even been awake two hours and I'm $620 lighter.
One peek at Joker had her re-processing her emotions. All amusement was absent from his expression. His jaw was tightly clenched; eyes narrowed nearly into slits.
I need to defuse this. Now.
"I apologize for the infractions," she said, turning back to the officer. "And my husband."
Did I just acknowledge that?
"He had a death in the family recently and has taken it pretty hard. He meant no offense to you."
A growl got trapped in Joker's throat.
"If death gives him this much of foul temperament," E. Rubin remarked. "I'd reconsider your association with him. You strike me as a nice girl. It might not be my place to say this, but you look like you can do better."
She didn't have to look at Joker to know his entire body had stiffened. The emotions vibrating off of him were lethal.
"You're right," she said. "It isn't your place."
Her stare was stern; expression void of any warmth.
This should have been enough to deter the officer from saying anything further, but instead, it served as an invitation.
"I don't mean to be pushy, but you're not much older than my daughter. And if I knew my daughter was shacking up with someone…something that looked straight out of a killer clown slasher flick, I'd offer the same advice to her. Maybe your…husband's presence keeps people from being direct with you…I'm certainly not afraid to tell it like how it is."
She knew the officer had just shredded the last slip of patience Joker had.
Which is why the moment his left hand went for his pocket, Celine smoothly grabbed it, slipped her fingers through his, pressed their palms together, and rested their interlocked hands atop his knee.
Joker was fuming so badly he didn't immediately notice what she'd done. His eyes were lava and E. Rubin the foliage directly in his path. She could feel the strain his muscles were undergoing through his hand alone; which clutched hers so tight it bordered on unbearable.
Her nails dug into his skin once to get his attention.
His eyes shot down to her, then to their interwoven hands.
She wasn't telepathic by any means, but still did her best to relay what was on her mind.
I know. I know. Chill for a few seconds and let me handle it.
He met her gaze; scouring her expression.
She offered him the most innocuous nod possible before returning her attention to the officer.
"Officer Rubin is it?" she asked, re-reading his name tag. "If you wouldn't mind, I'd like your badge number."
He was visibly startled by the request, mouth opening and closing a few times.
"Pardon me?"
"Your badge number," she repeated. "I'd like to write it down and file a formal complaint to the department you're stationed out of."
"F-for what purpose?"
"I don't think that's any of your business," she said, offering him a humorless smile. "But, since you were so dedicated to teaching my husband courtesy and respect, I figure we'll let this be a mutual teaching moment. Firstly, you accused him of throwing those bags out of the window when I admitted to it. Secondly, you've done little to mask your disdain for his appearance. A "killer clown from a slasher flick?" I think your superiors might be keen to know you lack the professionalism to deal with a former Afghanistan War veteran. Not only lack the professionalism but went out of your way to insult him for injuries he suffered attempting to protect the soil beneath your feet."
E. Rubin's chin quivered. His cheeks were quickly growing flush.
"Lastly, you've shown an astounding absence of empathy since learning he's had a close death in the family. Is this how you treat all those mourning a loved one?"
"Ma'a-."
"Your badge number, Officer Rubin. Please and thank you."
He swallowed hard before turning to his vehicle.
"And my license, insurance and registration," she called out, reaching out her hand.
He seemed to have forgotten they were still tucked beneath his armpit. They were hers again in a matter of seconds.
As Officer Rubin made the walk of shame back to his car, she could feel Joker's grip on her hand lighten just a little. She was tempted to look at him but was more focused on getting this ordeal out of the way as soon as possible.
Afghanistan War veteran? Where'd that come from? Not that it's bad necessarily…in fact it would clear up a lot of questions.
When Officer Rubin returned with a slip of paper holding his badge number, Celine internally sighed with relief. Crisis averted.
"Thank you, officer," she said before flicking on her blinker to merge back onto the highway. "One of your superiors should contact you shortly. Have a wonderful afternoon!"
She left him behind in a whirlwind of dust and sediment.
Joker didn't say anything for a long while. He also made no move to release her hand. She would catch him gazing at her, then out his window, and then back at her.
For someone who allegedly didn't care for silence, he sure was content basking in it.
"I'm going to stop at a gas station shortly here to use the bathroom," she told him. "If you need anything…water, snacks…just let me know. I am planning to hit up Wal-Mart later in the evening once I get settled in at home."
He still didn't speak. But he did bring their interlocked hands up to his face and rubbed one of his scarred cheeks against her knuckles.
The sensation wasn't unpleasant. She gave in to temptation and scanned his expression.
He wasn't smiling, but something appreciative lurked in his brown eyes. They seemed unable to get enough of her; his palm pressing the back of her hand into his scar until she could feel every ridge and bump.
"You know something I love about you sweets?" he said, leaning toward her as if he was letting her in on the ultimate secret. "Everybody stares at the scars. Everybody. And I don't blame them…after all, you want your artwork to be admired. But they stare and they stare and they stare and they…stare. And it's nothing new I ever see reflected back…always, always repulsion; or some relative of it. But no…no…not you."
His head tilted down some, fingers around her tightening.
"You acknowledge their existence, then move on. It's like…like someone noticing eye color or facial hair. Important, but irrelevant. You…you get straight to the point. At first, that irritated me. But I've come to my senses since then. You don't see them…you…see…me. And I-I like that…a lot. 'S nice to finally talk to someone…normal."
"Normal?" she couldn't help but answer, arching a brow. "That's a stretch don't you think?"
He shook his head.
"No, no it's not. You and I are normal. Everyone else…well, they've gone berserk! All the world's a madhouse we're committed to against our will. You…you are the first sane person I've found in my residency here."
Though there was amusement in his expression, she got the impression he was being quite serious.
He likes that I…see him. Does he realize how profound that is? Is it…is it his soul finding kindred in mine?
She cleared her throat, unsure of what to say.
"Could I have my hand back please?" she settled on.
"Mm…I dunno, you were in such a rush to hold mine…now that I got it here, not sure I wanna give it up just yet."
She tried to yank her hand free, but Joker's grip didn't budge an inch. He ended up moving their embraced limbs between his thighs, knees clamping around their wrists.
"Jack-."
"Yes sweetpea?"
He was batting his eyelashes at her, tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth.
"Let go."
"Mmmm…no."
"Let. Go."
"No-pe."
They were doing just shy of 75 on the highway. Traffic was minimal and the only car behind her was at least half a mile back. No police cruisers in sight.
"I'm giving you one last chance."
"Yeah? Or you'll what? We both know you got teeth, but you're too afraid to bite dee-."
Her foot slammed on the breaks. Hard.
Whereas her body jerked before being restrained by her seatbelt, Joker wasn't afforded the same luxury. His body sailed forward, chest striking the dashboard, followed right after by his forehead.
As soon as a low groan escaped him, she slipped her hand out of his with ease.
When both hands were on the steering wheel, she started to accelerate until they were at a comfy 72.
As Joker clutched his head, he shot her a murderous look.
"Bitch," he spat.
"It's Celine actually, but that works too." Her smile was radiant. "And I fired warning shots, not my fault you didn't heed them."
He was fuming silently, glaring venom-tipped daggers at her.
She pulled into a gas station not two minutes later.
"Need anything?"
His glare failed to lessen. It appeared she was being condemned to the silent treatment.
"Water? Soda? Smokes?" She leaned in and sniffed him. "Deodorant?"
His brows twitched slightly at this last suggestion.
"Kidding! You actually smell…nice. Hygienic. What's the occasion?"
He still didn't answer.
"Bandages?" she tried. "To cover up your boo-boo's?"
His lips quaked just the slightest before returning to a deeply-set frown.
"Last chance…going once…going twice…"
"Condoms."
She froze.
"What?"
"Condoms," he repeated, licking his bottom lip. "Preferably a twelve pack…twenty-four if they go it."
Why would he-?
He was still frowning, but something mischievous swam in his eyes.
"Um…okay."
Before exiting her car, she ended up taking out her keys. It's not that she didn't trust him…wait…actually…that's exactly what it was. Especially after what she just pulled; she wouldn't put it past him to drive off while she was still in the station.
Using the bathroom didn't take long, but her perusal of self in the mirror had her seething just the tiniest bit.
Joker – kind clown that he was – failed to inform her just how much a mess she looked. Bits of twigs and grass were dried into her hair; souvenirs from the ditch she'd tumbled into. She worked at picking them out and then cupping some water into a palm and washing her face clean with a paper towel. Truly, it was a miracle the police officer earlier hadn't interrogated her longer.
Three minutes later and she was standing in the medicine aisle of the store, eyes zig-zagging between her only two options.
Trojan Magnum XL
LifeStyles Snugger Fit
The Trojan was for men with more…endowed appendages. The LifeStyles were for average size.
Yikes…do I boost his ego or knock him off his high horse?
Without meaning to, her thoughts returned to the night he'd broken free of his handcuffs and slipped into bed with her. She'd been so enthralled with the pleasure he was inflicting she'd not given much thought to how generous or non-generous his dick was, grinding into her.
It was definitely a full package …you'd pay extra shipping and handling to get that delivered. Not just lengthy, but healthy girth too-.
She swiped at the back of her neck, dismayed to find she'd been perspiring a bit.
He definitely dished out some psychological warfare by having me buy these.
Unwilling to linger longer than needed on the cock size of her companion, she ended up grabbing one of each and paying for them both.
The Trojan Magnum XL ones…those she pocketed away from view. Handing those over would make him victorious in this little battle. He'd know just how seriously she considered his size and accuse her of projecting her own desires onto him. That simply wouldn't do. She was content to let him assume she thought him average.
Joker was picking crud out from beneath his fingernails with his sharpest knife when she got into the driver's seat. He barely spared her a glance, eyes narrowed in on some dirt at the corner of his ring finger that just wouldn't come out.
She tossed the LifeStyles condom pack onto his lap.
"Six was the most they came in," she said, putting on her seatbelt. "And sorry…they didn't have anything smaller."
All his movements ceased. His eyes dropped down to the package.
She started the engine, doing her best to fight off a smile.
It was only when they were back on the road again that he spoke.
"Only one way to know for sure if these'll…suffice."
His hands went to the button of his pants, two fingers grabbing onto the zipper.
Her eyes widened.
"Don't you dare."
He slid the zipper down and unbuttoned his pants.
"Jack…"
"This is where assumptions lead you, sweets," he practically sang, leaning up a little to slide his pants down to his thighs. "If you need the proof, I'm happy to provide it."
And he was. The satisfaction in his voice could hardly be contained.
Shit. Figures he'd be shameless enough to do this.
"I don't need the proof," she promised. "Please don't expose yourself in my car. Please."
He peered at her, eyes twinkling.
"Now, now, where are our manners. You forgot to add 'pretty'."
I'm going to have an aneurysm.
"Pretty please…do not expose yourself."
"Hmm…" He palmed his crotch once, causing her to blush furiously. "Perhaps we can work out an…arrange-ment."
She eyed him nervously.
"What kind of arrangement?"
"Wellllll, for one, gimme back that hand you so violently stole."
Is he serious?
As a means of emphasis, he extended his palm toward her, watching her expectantly.
Swallowing tightly, she lowered her right hand into his.
"Excellent," he commended, nearly bouncing in his seat. "I like a gal that can take directions."
"Don't push it," she mumbled.
His grin was growing wider by the second.
"I won't lie…assuming I'm anything less than average wounds me."
Fatally, I hope.
"What the hell are you doing?!"
He had tightened his grip on her and slowly but surely lowered her hand down to his crotch.
"Think it's ah best you feel for yourself what you're dealing with. That-a way, there won't be any further misunderstandings on what size to buy."
Her brain had gone blank. Impressive, considering it chugged any chance it got.
Joker removed his grip from her and relocated it to wrap around her wrist. A gasp got caught in her throat as he pressed her half-open hand into his boxer-clad cock. Boxers that may or may not have been the color of festive red wrapping paper with a green mistletoe dangling directly above his…present.
She refused to look at him, cheeks giving the sun above a run for its money.
"Feel free to squeeze or fondle or…stroke until you deem the evidence acc-urate."
His cock stirred to life as her fingers unconsciously tightened around him. It didn't take long for it to inflate into a semi-erect state.
He felt heavy against her…firm and…thick. She'd been right in her recollections, he had some girth to him. Ever so slowly, her fingers trailed further south; slipping beneath his pants until most of her hand was hidden from view.
His cock twitched and throbbed beneath her attentions, becoming stiffer and stiffer until he was fully hard; adding an inch and a half to an already impressive length.
Both a grower and a shower, just my luck!
She didn't know at what point she started gently stroking him up and down. Though her gaze was focused ahead, her hand seemingly had a will of its own. She blamed it all on the condoms. They opened a Pandora's box of repressed sexual urges. And Joker's responsiveness to her ministrations…it spiked her confidence in a most unforeseen way.
It was only when Joker tried suppressing a low moan that she looked over and realized he was no longer holding on to her wrist. Both hands were locked behind his head. This handjob was all her and her alone.
She abruptly removed her hand, brushed it once against her knee before bringing it up to the steering wheel.
Joker released a sound between a giggle and a disappointed sigh.
"You were ah really getting into it there, weren't ya?" he gloated. "Not that I'm complaining…nice to ah finally have the real thing."
She didn't think a part of her face remained that wasn't red. His comments weren't helping any.
"Consider it a learning lesson, sweets! Nothing about me is average."
He was slowly rearranging his stiff cock so he could zip up his pants. She remembered the Trojans in her pocket and took them out. When he finally had buttoned himself up, she tossed them onto his lap.
His laughter was immediate and didn't waver for a full minute.
"Oooo hooo hooo!" he whooped. "Naughty, naughty girl. Toying with my feelings just cos you can. I'm rubbing off on ya aren't I?"
She maintained her silence.
"Or I ah guess you were doing the rubbing."
He re-descended into a fit of giggles.
Celine tried focusing on her exterior environment. They still had three hours to go before reaching Calgary Cliff. Her largest obstacle at the current moment was not strangling her companion before they got there.
No more sexually charged conversations. Period. If it gets sexy…change the subject. And keep your limbs on your person from now on. They are deadly in his hands.
She repeated this to herself until she felt some semblance of calm over the situation.