CHRONICLES OF A YOUNG SUB
THE BOI & THE ALPHA
CHAPTER 4 - THE RIDE HOME
They say you can tell a lot about a man by looking at his car. And not just the colour or type of car, but I mean the interior of it as well. Erick’s jet-black Jeep was both sleek and sporty, matching what little I'd seen of him to perfection.
The dashboard was dust-free, and the slightly sheening black leather seats looked immaculate. The leathery interior gave his SUV a dauntingly masculine vibe, while the somewhat sizeable amount of clutter that populated the back compartment hinted at a very active lifestyle. Erick was obviously an outdoorsy type, and judging by the rather large duffle bag that took up a fair portion of the back seat, he was also actively involved in sports. Don’t ask me why, but I found that sort of hot.
“In you go, princess,” the hulking man spoke, opening the passenger side door for me and ordering me to hop in.
I blushed. I wasn’t used to this level of chivalrous gallantry. I liked it.
The first thing that struck me upon entering his outwardly pristine vehicle though was the smell. It wasn't entirely unpleasant, but it most definitely was poignant enough to tickle my senses. Perhaps even a bit too poignant. Erick, of course, was completely oblivious to it. He waited for me to hop in and didn’t close the door until I’d securely buckled my seatbelt.
I actually remember turning my head towards the backseat and momentarily crinkling my nose up during those brief seconds it took for him to circle around to the driver's side of the vehicle. The air inside Erick’s Jeep was thick with the scent of leather, dashboard polish and heavily used sports gear. And I mean really thick. Fuckin’ hell.
The leather-scented air seemingly grew even thicker upon the brown-haired man's entry, and then a rather discordant orchestra of decidedly distressed creaks and groans immediately flooded the cabin. The thick leather jacket clad around his torso looked uncomfortably tight, especially around his arms. It was sexy, and it suited his style well.
The angry creaking of leather continued unabated during the brief minute it took for my driver to wrestle his gloves on. The thin leather strained to accommodate his sizeable fingers and then struggled some more to accommodate his immensely oversized palms. I was a bit mystified as to why, but the auditory and visual spectacle of him putting his gloves on filled me with a tingling of excitement. Even more so now that I knew he was into forceful takedowns and simulated kidnaps.
“Alright. Good to go?” the bearded man finally asked, before turning the heat on and putting a gloved hand atop my knee. I smiled at him and nodded my head yes. And just like that, we were off.
Erick kept his hand on my thigh during pretty much the entirety of the ride home; only occasionally bringing it up to adjust the heat or move the steering wheel. The endless creaking of leather on leather continued filling my ears and noisily betraying his every movement. Although I didn't say anything to that effect, I found the sight and sound of his attire - and his voice - torturously erotic.
Anyways, I didn’t give Erick my exact address number but we’d previously spoken about where I lived and he knew my area well. As expected, the drive was quite peaceful, and sadly enough, not nearly as long as I had hoped for. With little traffic on the road and no construction slowing us down, the trip was just under forty minutes. Thirty-seven to be exact.
It was already closing in on 1 AM by the time we finally arrived on my street. Not that it really mattered, seeing as how I was well in my twenties and old enough to go about as I pleased. Erick pulled up at the spot I’d requested. It was several blocks away from my place, but mind you, that’s exactly what I was aiming for.
“You sure you don’t want me to walk you home?” he asked, his brow displaying a rather severe and disapproving frown as he scanned the deserted street for any would-be menace that might potentially endanger me. I declined his sweet offer and assured him I’d be fine. His gallantry and overt protectiveness made me all warm and even a little lightheaded. I was so very unused to being treated like this.
My heart quite literally fluttered and skipped a beat when the man returned his gloved hand to my thigh and asked if I was up for seeing him again. I was. I wholeheartedly was.
Erick told me he would’ve normally had me over again this very weekend but that he would be out of town on some prior commitment. He owned property several hours up north and would be spending most of Saturday and Sunday doing renovation work with a friend.
“Are you off work for the long weekend next Friday?” he asked, causing me to excitedly nod yes and happily confirm to him that I was.
“Alright. It's a date. I’ll be coming here to pick you up on Friday. No arguing,” he reprovingly chuckled, accurately predicting some sort of verbal resistance on my part.
“Thanks for the nice evening, Sir. I really enjoyed it,” I told him, every fibre of my being already longing for our second meetup next Friday.
Erick mirrored my comment and then raised his hand up to cup the back of my head. He pulled me in towards him and then planted a tender kiss against the top of my forehead. The gesture wasn't overtly sensual, but it still felt immensely satisfying and, dare I say, even a little romantic. I blushed. Not just a little, but a lot.
Erick then wished me goodnight and told me to have a good day tomorrow. I thanked him again for the lovely evening and thanked him again for the pleasant ride home. Then I was off and out of his intoxicatingly smelly Jeep.
My first date night – if you can call it that – was complete. I still had no idea what sort of bond I was hoping to forge with this man or if pursuing something romantic with him was at all advisable or even possible. But I just literally could not bring myself to care about our sizeable age gap right now. All I knew was that I was over the moon and more content than I’d ever been.
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