The Bonk Squad by Kris Pearson Page B

parents could see them through the shrubs along the front
fence.
    “ Chicken!” She grinned and
wriggled free.
    Ben cursed under his breath. But at
the movies in the dark it would be better. He would kiss her silly
then, if she’d allow him to.

    Tigger folded herself into the old
Toyota. It was older than she was. Quite a lot older. Almost a
collector’s item. She glanced over her shoulder as Ben loped around
to the driver’s side. There certainly wasn’t room in the back for
what she had in mind.
    He drove not into the center of
Hastings, but out along Karamu Road and through the orchards toward
the coast.
    “ Is it okay with you if we
go over to Napier?” he asked. “The multiplex there is way
better.”
    Tigger nodded, happy to go along with
anything he suggested. “Anywhere you like, Ben. Benjamin? Is that
your real name?”
    “ Benedict. Benedict Reuben.
So I end up Ben, whatever. Mom went a bit over the top.” He chewed
the inside of his cheek for a few thoughtful seconds. “You’re not
really Tigger, are you?”
    “ No, that’s Dad’s old name
for me.”
    The Toyota managed a surprising turn
of speed under Ben’s size eleven boot but the roar of the motor and
assorted rattles made conversation difficult. After ten minutes of
hurtling noisily along, Tigger reached over and laid one hand on
his nearest thigh. He jerked at her touch and gave a stifled gasp
of surprise. She patted him as though he was a nervous dog
requiring gentle treatment.

    Ben’s thigh burned under her fingers.
Only the need to change down a gear stopped him from grabbing her
hand and planting it over the hard rod that strained to be free of
his constricting jeans. He shuddered with hot hope and
humiliation.
    He wanted sex. Wanted it desperately.
Would have settled for it with almost anyone female. But the
prospect of having it with Tigger was beyond his wildest, wettest,
most ambitious dreams.
    And yet here she was beside him in the
car, with her hand on his thigh and a teasing smile in her eyes
when he glanced sideways and oncoming lights lit her face. Oh
fuck—and she’d moved her hand higher. And lower. And higher. And
higher.
    “ Are you okay with his?”
she asked.
    Was he okay? He was in heaven and hell
combined. He was going to come any second. He was going to crash
the car and kill them both. He might close his eyes in ecstasy and
ram a tree or an oncoming vehicle. With the sliver of his brain
still functioning, he braked and wrenched the wheel sideways. They
shot across the road, cutting between two cars and no doubt giving
the driver of the second a near heart attack.
    The Toyota bounced onto one of the
tracks that led over the grassy expanse of wasteland toward the
ocean. The uneven ground flung the car around as though it was an
empty beer-can rattling along the gutter in a high wind.
    “ Shit!” Tigger squealed as
the car slewed this way and that.
    Eventually Ben brought it to a
swerving stop not far above the high tide line, and cut the motor.
Civilization was now a hundred yards away. And it was dark as
sin.
    He dropped his flaming face onto the
steering wheel, thanking whatever god there was for keeping them
safe, and for sending enough danger to take his mind off getting
into Tigger’s pants for the moment.
    “ I just about killed us,”
he said in a muffled voice.
    “ We’re fine,” she said,
apparently unconcerned.
    “ We might not have
been.”
    “ Well...now we’re here?”
Tigger teased, leaning across to ruffle his hair with her fingers.
Ben groaned in frustration and raised his head. His eyes gradually
accustomed themselves to the darkness. Faint radiance reached them
from the traffic on the main road. It was a clear evening with most
of a moon just emerging from behind a cloud to glitter across the
water.
    Tigger’s shoulders shone pale as the
moonlight grew brighter. Ben’s eyes fastened on the straps of her
dark blue top. His fingers itched. If he could just slide the
straps down a