Five Over Par... Chapter Four: The Winner Collects

The ongoing adventures of Matt and Nikki continue

Nikki slumped back against the passenger seat, fries abandoned, pulse loud in her throat. Matt was still half-turned toward her, eyes darker than the parking-lot neon.

“So,” she murmured, tracing the scorecard with one fingertip, “you’re claiming victory?”

“I’m exercising my right,” he said, voice low, “to one completely unreasonable favour.”

She flipped the card onto the dash. “Define unreasonable.”

Matt leaned in slowly, giving her space to stop him, but she didn’t. When his mouth met hers, it was warm salt and vanilla and the quiet click of everything sliding into place. Nikki’s laugh died against his lips; she answered with her teeth, tugging his bottom lip just to feel him jolt.

The car was too small, the night too loud, but nothing outside mattered. Matt’s hands bracketed her face, then slid into her hair, angling her head the way he wanted. Nikki arched, a soft, involuntary sound escaping when his fingers grazed the hollow of her throat like he was marking where her pulse was racing.

“Back seat,” she whispered. “Please.” It’s half a groan.

He scrambled out, opened her door, and offered a hand. She took it, heat threading up her arm even before he crushed her against the cool metal. The air smelled of warm fries and damp asphalt. Kevin the alien cheerfully belched fake smoke.

The back-seat vinyl was ruthless… too hot, too sticky, so Nikki arched off it, dress hitched high and clinging in damp folds while Matt’s breath scalded her collarbone. He braced a hand above her head like he was shielding her from a fall she’d already begged for, the other skimming the seam of her thigh, knuckles pressing deep until her pulse lept to meet him.

“Still sure that comet on seven helped you?” he asked, voice shredded.

“Positive,” she rasped. “I’ll thank it in my victory speech.”

He laughed, and with her hoodie long gone, he bit the curve where her neck turns to shoulder, not hard enough to mark, just hard enough that her reply melted into a trembling exhale. She answered by threading both hands through his hair and tugging, not gently. His groan rolled through the tiny car.

Outside, neon sputtered across the windshield, painting them electric blue, pink, a sudden flash of green. Inside, light and shadow fell over sweat-slick skin, catching every gasp, every swear, every wicked smile.

Matt slipped his fingers under the thin strap of her dress and drew it down… slow, deliberate torture. Bare skin met cooler air; and she shivered with delight. Nikki’s hips lifted instinctively, seeking pressure, and he gave it, grinding just enough that the seat springs complained. The sound was vulgar, perfect, a rhythm begging to be ruined.

“Favour time,” he whispered against her ear.

“Take it,” she dared, her nails biting into his shoulder.

“Challenge accepted.”

His hand skimmed down and caught her knee, pushed it around his waist, opening everything that matters while giving nothing away. Nikki’s laugh turned into a stuttered moan as he rocked… slow, relentless movements that built their heat in brutal increments. Vinyl squeaked. Windows fogged. Her plea halfway through was barely a word, more like a crack in her voice; Matt answered with a filthy promise she’d replay on loop later.

When release finally claimed them, Nikki bit her bottom lip to keep from crying out and failed spectacularly. The sound filled the car, primal and broken, and Matt followed with a ragged exhale that shivered right through her bones.

Silence rushed in.. or what passes for silence when hearts slam like fists on locked doors. The neon sparked outside. Their fries had grown cold in their cartons. Kevin the alien coughed up one last puff of smoke, bless his plastic soul.

Nikki dragged in a shaky breath and pressed her forehead to Matt’s. “Still want that recount, champ?”

“God, yes.” His lips curved against hers. “But next time I’m losing by five.”

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