Truck Stop Tempest

by Daniels, Krissy

  My breasts ached, tightening to painful peaks.

  He scratched the stubble on his jaw. His nostrils flared. A dark glow covered his cheeks. His breaths remained steady, while mine…Oh, God, was I even breathing?

  I couldn’t understand why he hadn’t groped me. Why he hadn’t pushed me to the floor or shoved me on the bed, or why he wasn’t already thrusting inside me like had happened every other time.

  With every other boy.

  But Tito wasn’t a boy.

  Tito was confidence and savage beauty. He was quiet and controlled, and dear, sweet Jesus he was killing me, burning me alive with the heat of his stare. Why wasn’t he doing anything? Was I too small? Too inexperienced? I pulled my arms up, covering my chest.

  “No. God, no. Don’t do that.” He skimmed a finger across my cheek before pushing my arms back down to my sides. “Please. Don’t be shy. You’re beautiful. So goddamn beautiful. Just let me look at you.”

  I swallowed the emotion bubbling up my throat and blinked the sting from my eyes.

  “Don’t move,” he rasped, stepping behind me.

  Through the silence, I heard movement. He tossed his pants on the bed, and then his boxers.

  His breaths grew louder, heightening my arousal. From behind, he grabbed my hand, laced our fingers, and squeezed. “I’m not used to having a woman like this, all mine, all night. I want to take my time. I need to savor you.” He scooped my hair over my right shoulder, then pressed his lips to my ear. “It’s been torture having you so close for so long, and not acting on every impulse. Sweet fuckin’ torture.” His teeth sunk into the base of my neck. When he closed his mouth and sucked, my knees buckled.

  Tito hooked my waist and pulled me against his chest, holding me steady and upright while he licked and nibbled. With calloused fingers, he traced a slow path up my sides, scorching me, then cupped my breasts, kneading, massaging, rolling the tight buds between his fingers, pelting me with hot, erratic breaths.

  I’d never ached so deep, never craved so hard, never burned so hot. I was helpless, mindless to do anything but take, take, take.

  His lips traveled up my neck, then to my jaw, my cheek, the corner of my mouth. “Kiss me,” he commanded, his mouth against mine.

  I turned my head, and I kissed him. Soft and slow, savoring his tender touch, his flavor, his desire…for me. I could have died in that moment—taken my last breath with no regrets because in that moment I was beautiful, and whole, and desirable, and nothing would ever be as perfect as the way Tito cherished me. The way he held me tight and kissed me, trembling with want, with unbridled desire.

  I couldn’t imagine a more perfect moment.

  Until he slid a hand down my abdomen and worked his fingers between my legs, his thumb brushing the sensitive spot. I jerked against him. A noise I didn’t recognize escaped my lips. My body folded at the flood of sensation, my backside pressing against his erection. I wanted him to stop, the emotion unbearable. I never wanted him to stop, the pleasure, intoxicating. I wanted to cry and scream, and beg, and pray. I wanted to hold his hand down and make him continue or pull it away because I was either going to burn to ash or burst into a million shards of brilliant light.

  Tito was everywhere. His lips on my neck. One hand on my breast, one hand between my legs. When he pressed his palm against my clit and slid a finger between my folds, instinct took over, and I ground against him. That’s when I felt her, clawing through the nerves, taking over.

  My beast.

  My beast was so damn close to taking over, throwing her on the bed and devouring her soft little body until there wasn’t an inch untouched, unclaimed, unmarked. Fucking hell, I trembled with restraint. I’d kept him in check until the moment she started to fuck my hand, her little body writhing against me, her hips bucking, the soft moans escaping those pink, wet lips. She hadn’t a clue the danger she was in.

  I’d never been gentle when it came to sex. Never wanted to take my time. Never needed to explore, taste, smell, mark another human being like I did the beauty in my arms.

  If I didn’t stop, if she didn’t slow things down, neither one of us would survive the day unscathed.

  I dropped my arms and stepped back, drawing one deep breath and then another. I was dizzy from the lack of blood flow to my brain. My cock throbbed like a son of a bitch. I fisted myself, a pathetic attempt to relieve the building pressure. Tuuli’s hair fell down her back, nearly reaching her waist, and swear to my Maker when the light hit those soft waves just right, she looked every bit an angel. An exquisite, glowing gift from Heaven.

  She hadn’t turned around. Her shoulders rose and fell, and I knew she was trying to pull herself together. I didn’t want her composed. I wanted her undone.

  I stepped around, admiring every inch of ivory skin. When we stood toe to toe, she reached out, laying a shaky hand on my chest. Her nipples were so damn hard, my dick jerked. I brushed a knuckle across one tight bud, watching it pebble more. Her lips parted on a soft sigh, her face so pink with desire I had to swallow a moan.

  “You’re trembling,” I said, offering a soft kiss. “Do you want to stop?”

  “No. No. Please don’t stop. I’m just nervous. Nobody has ever touched me the way you touch me,” she whispered.

  “I’m nervous, too, Bunny.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t want to hurt you. I’m afraid I’ll lose control and scare you, and that’s the last fuckin’ thing I wanna do. You have to tell me if I get too rough, or if I make you uncomfortable in any way. Promise me.”

  “I’m not afraid.”

  “Promise.”

  “I promise.”

  “Good.” I dropped to one knee, more than ready to continue my exploration. She trembled when I kissed her stomach. Wiggled against me when I traveled lower.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Her pussy was untrimmed, her blonde hairs so damn light and pretty. My fingers curled into her hips when her scent reached me—that fucking raw, wild scent of arousal. I yanked her closer, burying my nose and inhaling deep, craving more. She was a drug. A goddamn mind-altering, addictive drug, and I needed more than to smell her. I needed to taste. Gorge myself.

  I dropped lower to the floor and held her tight while I raked my tongue up her crease.

  “Oh. Oh. My. No…Shit.” Tuuli’s legs buckled, and I held her tighter.

  “Hold on to me, baby.”

  Her fingers curled into my hair, fisting tight. So compliant. I dove in again, working my tongue up and down her folds, teasing her clit. The innocent little angel rolled her hips, writhing and needy. She was wild. So damn wild and responsive. I needed more. I needed her open for me. I slid a hand down her thigh, gripped behind her knee, and urged her to hook her leg over my shoulder.

  Sweet hell, she was wet, so damn soft and sweet. Mine. All mine, body and soul. No inhibitions. I offered my mouth, she fucked my face. I squeezed her ass, she pulled my hair. I slid a finger inside her tight opening, she cried my name. And when I knew she was on the verge of losing control, when I couldn’t wait another moment to be inside her, I sucked her clit between my teeth and made her come, and that goddamn, innocent little bunny released her beast, holding my head between her legs, trembling and shaking and riding out her orgasm, grinding hard against my mouth. When she came down from the high, her leg collapsing, I caught her spent body over my shoulder and dropped her on the bed.

  Her tits bounced. Her hair splayed across my black duvet. Heavy-lidded, she smiled up at me. Then she spread her legs, inviting me in.

  Fuck. I’d been scared of hurting her? We were zero for three by my count. My mouth would be bruised, I was sure I’d have two bald spots where she’d ripped at my hair, and what the fuck was she doing to that traitorous organ in my chest?

  I grabbed a condom out of the nightstand drawer and fumbled to put it on. Tuuli watched, lips parted, eyes hungry. When I crawled over her, she sighed like she’d waited her whole life for our bodies to come together. I kissed her once, pressing my c
ock against the soft flesh between her legs. I wanted to take it slow. Ease into her. Draw out the pleasure. But when she curled her fingers around my neck, her blue eyes meeting mine, and begged, “I need to feel you inside me,” I sunk deep, pushing inside until she took all of me.

  Her gasp and her sweet pleas had me moving when I wanted to stay pressed against her, absorbing her heat and the tight fit where our bodies were one. I moved inside my precious angel, giving her everything I had—my lips, my voice, my eyes, my strength.

  I loved how my body covered hers. I loved the contrast between her ivory glow and my dark features. I loved her whimpers, her breaths on my neck, the scrape of her nails on my skin, and the way her hips met mine with equal urgency. I loved how she looked at me like I was her fucking world. I loved that I didn’t have to ask for her eyes. I had them. She gave them freely, holding my gaze like she was afraid I’d disappear if she looked away.

  And I fucking loved how after I came inside her, after I grunted my pleasure into her neck, after we clung to each other, sweaty, and breathless, I didn’t want her to leave.

  “YOU READY?” TITO ASKED, voice gruff, eyes worried.

  I nodded. Turned away. Chickened out. Turned back.

  Strong arms wrapped around me. “You can do this, Bunny.”

  Lordy, how I wanted to believe him.

  Two days ago, Slade had come to Tito’s door holding brand new uniforms and begged me to come back to work at The Stop.

  My first instinct was to tell her no.

  But she had offered me a lifeline, and, in a sense, a chance to earn back my dignity.

  My brother’s murderers had walked away with my entire savings. Three thousand dollars. I couldn’t refuse Slade. I needed the job. As much as I wanted to hide in Tito’s apartment, where I was safe, warm, and fed, I needed to stand on my own two feet.

  “Okay. I can do this.” I forced the words, not wholly believing them, but determined to make them truth eventually. “I’m good. I’m ready.” Faking a smile, I kissed his cheek, then left him alone in Slade’s office.

  “Toodaloo,” Charlie sang from the kitchen as I passed the service window. “Glad you’re back.”

  “Me, too,” Slade chimed from behind the counter.

  “Me, three,” Margie shouted from table five.

  “Me, four!” an unfamiliar, but friendly voice shouted from somewhere near Charlie.

  Slade came closer and bumped my hip, her ponytail bouncing behind her. “Hey, girl. Thanks for coming back. We’ve missed you.”

  Words of gratitude lodged in my throat, stuck behind a thick lump of emotion. Forgiveness was not easy to give, yet she’d handed me a clean slate, no conditions.

  “I’m sorry about your brother,” she whispered, pulling me into a hug. “I know how it feels to lose a family member. If you need to talk, I’m here, okay?”

  “Thank you,” I mumbled, moisture pooling in my eyes.

  She stepped back, holding me at arms’ length. “If you ever need a minute, go lock yourself in my office.”

  A deep voice rattled over my shoulder, “You must be Tuuli.”

  I turned to find a pair of exotic green eyes, amped by a set of sinful dimples.

  “Hi,” I squeaked, shaking his offered hand, struggling to hold the eye contact because wow, the guy was so beautiful it almost hurt to look.

  “Tuuli, this is Charlie’s nephew, Eli. He’s joined the crew.” Slade smiled and winked. “He’s a jack of all trades. Cooks. Cleans. Even waits tables when we need help.”

  “Nice to meet you.”

  “Glad to finally meet the famous Toodaloo.” He shot a glance through the kitchen window. “Uncle Charlie just about cried when Slade told him you were coming back.”

  “Eli!” Charlie shouted from somewhere in the back. “Not paying you to chit-chat.”

  Eli flashed a killer grin before disappearing.

  “Cute, yeah?” Slade wiggled her brows.

  I nodded, laughing. Cute didn’t come close. The guy was fitness model material. Looked nothing like Charlie. No doubt he’d attract a female cult following to the diner.

  The cowbell rattled, drawing my attention to the front door and the gorgeous woman storming my way. A breathtaking blonde with a tailored suit, designer heels, and steely blue eyes.

  My stomach dropped. So did the stack of menus I had just grabbed.

  “Good morning,” Slade beamed to the devil at our door.

  I dropped to the floor to gather the menus, angered by the tremble in my hands.

  “Sit anywhere you’d like.”

  I lingered on the ground behind the counter, pulling my breaths in a steady rhythm, picturing Tito’s face, replaying his words. In. One, two, three. Out. One, two, three.

  The snap in the woman’s voice chilled me to the bone. “I’m not here to eat. I’m here for Tuuli. That is, as soon as she decides to come out from her hiding spot.”

  I popped up, clutching the menus to my chest like a shield. “Hi, Mom.”

  “Mom?” Slade stepped closer to me, offering her hand to my mother. “Miss Holt. What a pleasure to meet you.”

  Slade was privy to every dirty detail about my family. Knew I’d left home to separate myself from that life. She must’ve sensed my trepidation because she coiled her arm through mine and leaned against me, holding me steady, giving me courage.

  My mother shot a quick glance at our joined limbs, then stood taller, “Tuuli. You missed your brother’s funeral.”

  Ice filled my veins. “I know.”

  “Well?” She lifted her chin, a rare show of courage.

  I upped her display of strength and threw in a dose of defiance. “Well, what?”

  Mom tugged on the hem of her pink blazer, a nervous habit, reminding me we’d suffered the same conditioning under my father’s dominion. “We have a wedding to plan. Enough of this…this…whatever it is you’re trying to prove. It’s time for you to come home.”

  “Whisper Springs is my home, Mom. And there isn’t going to be a wedding. There never was.”

  My mother’s pale cheeks darkened. “Can we have a word in private?”

  Slade’s arm tightened around mine. “I’m sorry, Miss Holt. Tuuli’s shift just started. As you can see…” she gestured toward the half-full diner, “we’re terribly busy. Personal matters need to be handled during breaks. You’re welcome to come back later when your daughter isn’t on the clock.”

  Mom’s jaw clenched. A telltale sign she was ready to spit venom, a character flaw, according to my father, that had landed Mom in the hospital countless times. She closed her eyes and breathed deep before meeting my glare. “Tuuli. We need to discuss what happened. Your father and I have been worried about you.”

  I half-laughed, half-snorted. “Worried?” I was about to spew a verbal assault when something eerie dawned on me. A thought that hadn’t but should have occurred to me before that moment. “How did you know where to find me? Who told you I worked here?”

  Mom’s eyes darted back and forth, her angry gaze landing on Slade, then me, then Slade before dropping to the floor.

  “How did you know I was here?” I asked again, anger cloaking the shake in my voice.

  “It doesn’t matter. You belong at home. With us. With your fiancé.”

  Erik. Of course.

  I loved my mom. There was a time, long ago, that we’d been close, that she had been fun and caring, at least when Daddy Dearest wasn’t around. But the year I became a woman, our dynamic changed. Mom spent more time traveling with Dad, and her doctor, who was also an elder in my father’s church, started prescribing more pills for her “condition.” I hardly recognized her anymore. I suspected the pills were to blame.

  For a moment, a younger version of my mother came back to haunt me, her face softening, her carefree smile almost breaking through. “Please, baby. Get your things. Let’s go.”

  I resisted the urge to hug her, beg her to leave that place, stay with me.

  “So I can spread
my legs for that sadistic creep and make perfect little babies? No, Mom. I won’t ever go back.”

  She stepped closer, lowering her voice to a growl. “I’ve protected you all these years.” She sounded desperate, her voice panicked, her hands shaking. Someone had sent her, threatened her, most likely. “If you don’t come home and marry Erik, I won’t be able to shield you from your duty.”

  Threatened or not, she’d pushed my last button.

  “Duty? Duty?” I grabbed my mother’s arm and dragged her out of the diner. When clear of the door, I shouted, “I am not a goddamn baby-making machine. Go home. You are not welcome here.”

  The thought of abandoning her sickened me, but I wasn’t strong enough to save us both. Not yet, anyway. I turned to head back inside the safety of The Stop, but not before catching a glimpse of Erik’s SUV in the parking lot.

  Erik Meyer had never given my mother the time of day. Why would he bring her to me? I couldn’t see his face, but I knew he was watching from behind that dark glass. “Why do you stay with them, Mom? I know that you and Dad never officially tied the knot.” I ignored her gasp and raised my middle finger in Erik’s direction before marching back inside.

  “I need a minute,” I growled, storming past Slade toward the bathroom. I almost made it to safety before a hand caught my wrist and swung me around.

  Tito caged me against the wall, holding me captive with a set of molten eyes. That slow burn I’d fought for weeks spiked into a blaze. I breathed. Tito breathed. He studied my face, warming my weary soul.

  I needed to hide and clear my head, but I couldn’t break the connection, the silent communication we shared. He was so strong and confident and beautifully terrifying. If I held on tight, absorbed his glare, his energy, maybe, just maybe, I could absorb some of his strength, too. I could be stronger. I could be braver. I could raise my middle finger to my family and not feel riddled with guilt or shame.