It was past midnight when Grace snuck outside the bedroom through the window and made her way to the silver Ford Ranger parked outside.
She rubbed her arms, her tank top struggling to keep her warm against the cool, night breeze.
"Hey." Grace waved.
Ibbe stepped out of the car and stretched, his beige-skinned frame towering over her.
Grace took her position behind the wheel and turned on the ignition.
"Sandalwood." Ibbe remarked as they made some distance.
"Huh?" Grace caught him smirking through his thick beard.
"You don't wear sandalwood often." He said.
Grace's cheeks burned red. Observant yet nonchalant - that was Ibbe.
She turned away, struggling against the smile which tugged at her lips.
"You like it?" She blurted out.
"Eyes on the road." He chuckled.
Ouch.
The thick forest rushed by on either side of the empty road, bathed in the silvery glow of the moon as they sped away from town.
"I think I'm ready to face the traffic." Grace turned to Ibbe.
"Trust me girl, you're not."
"Oh c'mon, you've been teaching me to drive for what... 2 months now?"
"There's a big difference between learning to shoot and learning to hit a target."
Grace rolled her eyes.
"Okay, sir. How about you teach me to hit the target?"
"I wouldn't mind." He stroked his beard. "But I must tell you, I won't be here long."
"What do you mean?" She turned to him.
"Some issues back home... I'll be flying to Cairo this weekend." He said, his brown eyes reassuring her as she took the news in. "Eyes on the road."
"For how long?"
"For good."
Grace drove in silence. Ibbe's words echoed in her mind, lips quivering as she clutched the wheel tighter, drenched in the sweat from her palms.
Ibbe hummed a tune as he blankly stared at the moon, calm and composed as usual, unlike the volcano brewing on the driver's seat.
They'd known each other for almost 3 months since Ibbe joined as a foreign exchange student. He never spoke much, kept himself busy with academics, playing his flute and basketball, and made few friends.
Grace was seething at his nonchalance, his indifference. Did he even care at all? She stared at him briefly, shamelessly humming as if he owed her no further explanation.
A sudden warmth on her thigh sent a jolt of surprise coursing through her, shattering the spiralling thoughts in her mind like glass. Her breath hitched, as she glanced down at Ibbe's firm fingers pressing her knee, his thick forearm lying along her thigh.
She glanced at him with bated breath, looking straight ahead as he casually whistled a tune, wiggling his fingers gently on her knee.
Her breaths got shallower and quicker, as the wilderness rushed by.
Was it sexual? Of course not.
Definitely it must've been his way of comforting her. How could she possibly ruin such a beautiful gesture? She hated her mind, and also the way her body was reacting. By now, Ibbe must've heard the way she was breathing. Oh, what would he think of her after this?
She glanced at him sideways, hoping he didn't notice how red and sweaty her face was.
A light moan escaped her lips as she felt him stir, his fingers carving a warm trail through her thigh as they climbed upwards along her jeans, his elbow now resting on her pocket.
He gently tapped a rhythm on her thigh, matching the tune he was whistling.
Grace was sure Ibbe could hear her heart pounding. The wilderness and the road blurred into a mosaic as the touch and warmth of his hand took over her.
She looked at him.
No trace of emotion, or excitement whatsoever. Just him staring distantly at the moon, whistling softly as his hand crept upwards and rested just short of her privates.
Grace's tummy churned with excitement, wetness soaking her panties.
What was this man upto? How far would she allow him to venture and most importantly, did he even care what she wanted?
He squeezed her thigh, gentle yet firm and maintained his grip, sending impulses that set off alarm bells in her head, defying the fire which was spreading through her.
Grace rubbed her eyes and gripped the wheel tightly. She drew in a deep breath, composing herself as she anticipated his next move.
Like lightning, she grasped his wrist just as his hand began climbing again.
She looked at him, staring straight into her eyes. The whistling had stopped.
The moonlight shining in his eyes manifested as a mysterious glow, replacing his nonchalance with an expression she couldn't quite place.
"Ibbe." She shook her head.
Ibbe smirked, refusing to look away.
Grace gritted her teeth, breaking the stare as she turned towards the road.
One hand on the wheel, her other hand was still on his wrist, failing to wrap around his thick forearm.
Please don't. She pleaded in her mind.
Ibbe very casually overpowered her resistance. Perhaps it was his strength, or her weakness. Deep down, was there a part of her which wanted this to happen? She shook her head wildly, denying such an audacious thought.
His warm hand suddenly grasped the flesh of her inner thigh, making her coo as she struggled to keep her eyes open, her hand loosening its grip on his wrist.
Gently but steadily, Ibbe began petting her thigh in circles, stopping just short of her privates, the pressure of his touch sending electric shocks through her nerves as she moaned wildly.
"Ibbe, stop." She pleaded breathlessly.
But when did Ibbe ever care?
Her face was on fire, sweat dripping down her eyebrow and blurring her vision, as she felt ripples of excitement tugging at her insides.
She felt his hands tugging at the zipper of her jeans.
No. This couldn't happen. She had to stop him.
With one last ditched effort, she grasped his wrist and resisted, as he steadily unzipped her jeans, exposing her soaked panties for him.
Ibbe didn't waste a moment; Grace whimpered helplessly as his hand slid into her jeans and pressed against her wet panties, flooding her being with emotions that sent her over the
edge.
The truck screeched to a stop at the edge of the highway.
In that silent moment of dizzying passion, clarity dawned over her as she realised what she wanted.
Ibbe.
Grace's hand was still resting on Ibbe's, her resistance gone.
As she embraced her forbidden thoughts, the glow in his eyes finally made sense.
Desire. Thirst. Lust.
He smiled at her, as the realisation dawned upon her.
"I love sandalwood." Ibbe clutched her neck from behind and pulled her towards him.
Their lips met in a passionate embrace which knocked out any semblance of individuality, melting them into one. His tongue aggressively explored her mouth, forcing her to surrender to him in weak squeals and moans.
His minty breath drove her wild, as his fingers grasped her hair and pushed her closer and closer, while his other hand urgently rubbed her pussy through the thin fabric of her drenched panties.
The air in the truck smelled of love, teasing the silence of the night with the wet sounds of their kissing and her moans.