A Little Too Much Coffee

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AN

Ugh. Exams. This week. Ima die. It's been a long time since I've been online.  I apologize.  My computer is dumb.  It keeps freezing.  I am about thirty seconds from drop kicking it.  Out my window.  And stepping on it.  A few thousand times.  Please read, like, vote and comment and stuff (:

LUKE

It was definitely different to feel attached to someone that was not yourself.  It was almost like someone had taken three rolls of duct tape, wrapped it around my heart, and then welded it to Ally's arm; that was how attached I felt to her.  The fact that I could feel her every thought?  A little bit weirder.  I mean, don't get me wrong, I could read her mind before, and I felt attached to her before in many ways; however, that just could not compare to the way we were attached now. 

Mates.

We  were finally, completely mates.  And I had never felt so strong.

Or horny.

How odd was it that I was watching my little mate, prance ahead of me in baggy sweat pants and a loose shirt, with her hair tied up in a bun, and I was struggling to shift around my raging boner?  It wasn't very appreciated, I could tell you that much.  The little twitch of her ass every stride had me biting my tongue and striving to think of something that could have me dropping before she saw my problem.  It was quite apparent, in my view. 

Grama in underwear.

Dancing flamingos.

Claire and John mating.

Ew.

Down we go. 

Now that, that lovely mental picture was burned into my brain, I was pretty positive that I wouldn't be having any more troubles keeping myself below the radar.  And in my pants.

"Where are we gonna go?"  Ally asked, skipping down to my shiny new jeep.  She rubbed a finger appreciatevly along the chrome, before jumping into the drivers seat.

"You aren't driving," I stated, coming to an abrupt stop a few feet away.  She raised an eyebrow, and held out a set of sparkling silver keys that were wrapped around the right index finger.

"The keys say I am," she smirked, shoving them into the ignition so hard that I winced.  My poor jeep was now, offically, a lost cause.

"Not that I don't love your driving, and trust you completely with my jeep, but I really think you should let me drive.  I'm a back seat driver."

"I'll live," she grinned, turning to crank up the radio and belt out the lyrics in an uneven voice. 

"My hearing won't," I mumbled, stalking to the passenger side of the jeep.  I swung myself in through the wide open window, and rested back with a sigh. 

"What was that?" Ally asked, raising one eyebrow as she began to back out of the driveway.  I remained silent, valuing my body too much to restate what I had said.  "That's what I thought."

"I bet you won't be able to make it where we're going while staying under the speed limit," I wagered, a few moments later.  She snorted, and slowly raised her lead foot off the gas pedal.

"Who says I can't?"

"If you go over the speed limit, even once, then you're my slave for a week."  I could see her pondering this, as she glanced every few moments at the sped-o-meter.

"What do I get from it?"

"What do you want?"

"Okay..." she mused.  "If I win, you have to come with me and be my male model for a photo shoot.  I miss photography."

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