Road-Tripped

by Nicole Archer

  It took an excruciating amount for him to reach for a condom. Once it was finally on, he stared down at her body with hard-core lust. “Fuck, you’re hot.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Are you trying to get in my panties, mister?”

  “I’d say I’ve already accomplished that, wouldn’t you?” He traipsed a finger down her wet slit.

  “Less talk. More cock.” She tugged his hand and spread-eagled on the bed, ready and willing.

  He scratched his chin.

  She popped up. “For God’s sake, what are you waiting for?”

  “Trying to decide which way I want you.”

  Forearm thrown over her eyes, she pretended to cry. “I’m in pain. Please, for fuck’s sake, do me.”

  Mercifully, he dropped next to her, grabbed her hips and basically tossed her on top of his dick. As fast as she could, she guided him in just to the tip and swirled around the tip, teasing him like he’d done to her.

  He slammed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw.

  “Feel good?” she asked in a seductive purr.

  “It’d feel a whole lot better if you sat yourself down on my cock.” His accent had thickened to molasses.

  Sinking slowly, she hit bottom with a gasp. “Feels so good”

  He gripped her hips, pulled out, and slammed in. “Sure as fuck does.”

  She gained control and rolled and bounced around him while he happily kneaded her tits and massaged her nub with his thumb. Lips sloping up in a sexy smirk and dimples denting his cheeks, his blue-green gaze roamed between her thighs and back to her eyes. “Goddamn, I’m happy,” he said.

  The gooey sound of their skin’s friction filled the camper.

  She licked his throat then melded her mouth with his, chafing her chin against his until it burned.

  They absorbed one another—breathing each other’s breaths, mingling fluids, and connecting on a level she hadn’t expected.

  She melted around him, consuming him with passion and raw need. The tips of her nipples tightened to sore peaks as pleasure mounted. Clenching her vaginal walls, she sucked him in deeper.

  He groaned in her mouth. “That’s it. Squeeze your pussy around me, baby.”

  The dirty talk was the last spark. She burst into flames and an astonishing orgasm blasted through her.

  His arms tightened around her. “Jesus,” he said and thrust in up to the hilt.

  In their rapture, there was no porno moaning, or cursing, or screaming. They just held their breath and clung to each other while they came.

  Chest heaving and body drenched, she lay on top of him, panting.

  “God,” she wheezed.

  “Damn,” he panted. “I’m still coming.” His dick twitched inside her.

  “That was the worst sex I’ve ever had,” she said, rubbing her nose against his sweaty neck.

  His deep belly laugh bounced her head. “Fucking awful wasn’t it?”

  “Just terrible. How soon do you think we can have more bad sex?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. I’m an old man now,” he said. “Maybe twenty or thirty minutes?”

  She rolled off him and collapsed in a useless heap. He tied off the condom then hauled her into a tight spoon. Against her back, his damp chest rose and fell.

  “I love the way you smell,” he said, nuzzling her neck.

  She faced him and laid a long kiss on his puffy lips.

  He pulled back. “You . . .” He tipped her chin and kissed her again. “That . . . us . . . wow.” He shook his head. “Fucking A.”

  “Listen to you, potty mouth. Go wash out your mouth with soap.”

  “You’re a bad influence.”

  “Puh-lease.”

  “Your pussy sure liked my dirty mouth.”

  “Shh”—she fanned between her legs—“You’re getting her all excited again.”

  A warm laugh flowed out, and he tucked her back in, rubbing his feet against hers.

  “Are you still wearing a sock?” She looked down at his legs.

  “Huh.” His sock-covered foot wiggled in the air.

  She cracked up. Absolutely ridiculous, that silly sock on his carved swimmer’s physique. “I’m gonna need a picture of that.” She swiped the camera off his nightstand and zoomed out the lens, making sure to get his half-stiff porn cock in the frame.

  He folded his arms behind his head and crossed his ankles, displaying the sock (and cock) proudly.

  “Say sleaze,” she said and snapped the shot.

  “Stay right there, kneeling like you are.” He reached for his phone. “Keep the camera to your face with the strap between your breasts like that. Don’t move.” The phone’s fake shutter clicked.

  Grinning down at the screen, he said. “This road trip just got a helluva lot better.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Wakin’

  “Stop squirming,” Walker said, nestling his hard-on back against the crack of Callie’s ass.

  She twisted around, sunlight and blue mischief radiating in her eyes. He stroked her pretty face. “You are a vision, Bluebell.”

  “More like a nightmare. See this?” She patted the monumental rat’s nest in the back of her head.

  “That’s some serious bedhead,” he admitted.

  She weaved her hands though his hair, sending tingles over his scalp. “Yours looks like you stuck your finger in a light socket.”

  Smiling and sighing, he caressed her body, listening to the whisper of her skin against his hand. He wandered over the curve of her breast, down the valley of her torso, around her ass, and finally between her legs, where it was slick and wet.

  “What are you doing down there, mister?” she asked coyly.

  “Sticking my finger in your light socket.”

  Breathless, she draped her leg over his hip. “Only you could say something so ridiculous and still turn me on.”

  “Nice pun, nutter.” He smeared her wetness over the rest of her pussy, making her clit nice and slippery. Over and back, he circled the ridge until it was hard and swollen.

  Quietly, she panted short bursts of air. And then not so quietly, she moaned, “Oh, right there! Don’t stop.”

  He repeated the move. “Like that?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “Turn around and put your ass against me so I can get to you easier.”

  She flipped on her side and shimmed back. Her nipples were so swollen and tight they looked painful.

  He soothed them with his tongue. As he licked her tits, he got a crazy urge to mark her. Above her nipple, in a nice secret place, he sucked his brand into her skin.

  Her little whimpers turned into big moans. But she wasn’t quite ready.

  The minute he buried himself inside her, he was going to bust a nut like a virgin. And he needed her right there with him. He pumped his finger faster. Soon, her gooey and grind-y got all quiet and tight. Legs trembling, she raised her hips and tilted her chin back.

  Now she was ready.

  He kissed her neck and blindly felt for the last condom. Faster than a deacon in a whorehouse, he rolled that sucker on. From behind, he dove inside her warmth. Sure enough, she came on his cock two minutes later. Right after her, he erupted like a volcano. Honest to God, had his dick been out in the open, his cum would have shot through the roof.

  “Damn,” he said, still attached to her. “I wanna stay inside you all day.” He held her tightly until he softened and slipped out.

  They lay on their backs and held hands. She chewed her cheek and stared at the ceiling.

  “Whatcha thinking about?” he asked.

  “The commercial tomorrow in Orlando.”

  “What about it?”

  She propped herself on an elbow. “What are we going to do?”

  “With the shoot?”

  “No, with this.” She gestured between them. “With us.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She chewed her lip some more.

  “Blue?”

  “It’s just . .
. what now? We can’t tell anyone.”

  “Why not? Skip doesn’t care. I could call him right now and tell him we had mind-blowing sex, and he’d probably say, congrats, dude, and offer to buy me a drink.”

  Her post-coital dreamy gaze sharpened to an icy glare. She sat up and yanked the blanket around her. “Gonna go hi-five your bros, now? Tell everyone you banged another office slut?”

  He sat up with a jolt. “Another office slut? What the hell?”

  She closed her eyes and squeezed her cheeks together with her hand.

  “Blue?”

  “I’m sorry. I’m . . .” A long weary sigh leaked out. “I’m not worried about Skip.”

  “What the hell are you worried about?”

  “Did we make a mistake, sleeping together?”

  A belt tightened around his chest. “A mistake!” He vaulted out of bed and jammed his legs through his boxers.

  In the background, she babbled an apology, saying something about the words not coming out right.

  But he didn’t care. His mind was already racing down a dark tunnel. “What happened last night, anyway? Why’d you suddenly decide to jump my bones?”

  “I don’t know!” She pressed her palms to her eyes.

  “Dammit! Why’d you lie to me last night?”

  “Will you stop!” She grabbed his hands and pulled him back to bed. “Walker, I just got out of a relationship that fucked up my whole life. I lost my fiancé, my friends, my job, my home—everything. I literally left Chicago with nothing. And I fucking hate when people say literally and don’t mean it. Literally, I left with the clothes on back. I wouldn’t even have a job if it weren’t for Skip.”

  He pinched a rub across his eyelids. Why did her past have to crash his party? Why did she lose everything? Did her fiancé kick her out? It didn’t any make sense.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. For what, he had no clue. But sometimes with women, it was best to apologize and figure out why later.

  “Why? You didn’t do anything,” she said.

  Well, that was a relief.

  She squeezed his hands. “You are the only friend I have, besides Skip. If something happens between us and the trip goes bad, I’m not only going to be bummed, I’m going to be super screwed. That’s why I’m asking—did I fuck up everything by sleeping with you?”

  If it were up to him, they’d be holding hands, kissing, and calling each other pet names in front of God, the RoadStream client, and everyone.

  Hanging with her was the tits. And he loved having sex with her even more. Plus, she was the main reason he was getting his mojo back. But beyond that, they had something special brewing, and if she weren’t so damn jaded from that other guy, she’d see it too.

  Amazing the camper didn’t just bust wide open with the amount of disappointment in there. Only moments ago she’d come on his cock, and now she was frowning down at her hands.

  If he put himself in her shoes—which were gone because he’d made her piss on an alligator nest—he’d probably be freaking out too. From what it seemed like, she wasn’t ready to get back on that relationship horse yet.

  He had plenty of time to convince her though. She’d come around soon. Real soon, he hoped. Until then, he’d be patient. Not really, but he could pretend. In the meantime, he’d act like Mr. Laid-Back and Aloof, and maybe she wouldn’t feel so pressured to end things before they even began.

  He caressed her cheek. “Christ, Callie. I don’t want to ruin our friendship, or this trip, or anything else,” he said. “Stop stressing. Let’s just have fun and fuck, and not worry about things that haven’t happened.”

  Her mouth tightened to a crimson slice. “So this is just sex then? No strings?”

  Was she relieved? Or upset? Did she even care? If they had a master’s degree in figuring out the opposite sex, he’d sign up tomorrow. He gritted his teeth and ground out a smile. “If that’s what you want.”

  “And you won’t go back to hating me or get me fired if something bad happens?”

  “What are you talking about?” he said sharply. “I never hated you.”

  Once again she gnawed her lips. “Don’t tell anyone then. We’ll have to keep this a secret.”

  The conversation was starting to feel like a barbed-wire wedgie. “Still gonna keep riding my bologna pony?”

  A smile peeked out from the clouds. “You’re as bad as your grandma.”

  “Speaking of which”—he raised his chin—“you owe her forty bucks.”

  “Crap, you’re right. Don’t tell her. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

  He pointed to his lap, and she crawled over and burrowed her head in the crook of his neck. The sweetness not only reassured him, it reignited him. He wanted her again—feverishly so. But they were out of condoms.

  He pulled the sheet down around her hips and thumbed her nipple. “Think we’ll fit in that shower together? I want to get you nice and dirty before we get all clean.” He slapped her butt. “Then after that, I’m picking the next place. You’re on probation for your little swamp idea.”

  “Huh,” she said.

  “What?”

  “I almost forgot about the gator.”

  “Made all the bad memories go away, didn’t we?”

  Cassadaga, Florida

  “Brevity is the soul of lingerie.”—Dorothy Parker

  Soundtrack: Portugal. The Man, “The Sun”

  It was a rare summer day in southern Florida—low humidity and temperature in the eighties. The scent of crushed orange blossoms floated in the breeze. Callie lifted her face to the sky and let the sun warm her soul.

  Beep!

  “Did you just take a picture of me?” she asked.

  Walker looked skyward and whistled. “Me? Nope?”

  She narrowed her eyes and smiled. “Now that we’re in the Psychic Capital of the World, Mr Rhodes, shall we find out what’s in store for the rest of the trip?”

  “You bet your sweet britches.”

  “How do you want your bullshit fed to you?” she asked. “Palm? Tarot? Runes? Crystal ball?”

  “You decide.”

  “Let’s split up and compare.”

  He picked palm reading, and she chose tarot cards. Afterwards, they’d meet back up at the Chinese restaurant they’d passed on their way in.

  Callie stepped through the tarot shop’s doors and into a blazing inferno of incense. She coughed and waved the smoke from her eyes. From out of the fog, a rotund woman, dressed as a pirate, materialized. No, not a pirate, she was dressed like a gypsy.

  Okay.

  Excited for the new story material, Callie purchased a Past Lives Discovery Combo Package, and the wench swept her back to a room behind a moon and stars curtain.

  After the woman finished her act, Callie strolled toward the restaurant. Through the window, she spied Walker in a booth, fiddling with his camera. A table of three drooling women stared longingly at him while they ate.

  Jealousy hit her, as well as a mounting urge to scream take your eyes off my mancandy.

  Right then, Walker looked up and cocked a grin. He motioned her inside with a suggestively crooked finger.

  She swept open the door and released thick wafts of soy sauce and sesame oil. Other than Walker’s fan club, everyone in the restaurant was Chinese—a fortuitous sign the food was authentic.

  A bony Asian man led her to the booth and told them to ask for Ho if they needed anything. She did a double take of his tag. Indeed, his name was Ho. Ho Sang, as a matter of fact.

  Walker pointed to the spot next to him. “Over here, Bluebell, right by me.” She slid in the booth. “Closer,” he kept saying until she was practically in his lap. His kiss hello felt like foreplay. The blatant public display of affection surprised her. Especially given he just wanted to “fuck and have fun.”

  Since that morning, she hadn’t been able to inhale a full breath. Stupidly, she’d made an emotional investment, and he’d very succinctly told her to invest somewhere else. Quest
ioning him so soon made her seem desperate, but she couldn’t stop thinking about what she’d do when he inevitably screwed her over.

  At least now, she knew where they stood. They’d be lovers on the trip, and when it was over, they’d be done. She could live with that. For now.

  “You smell like frankincense and myrrh,” he said, curling his hand around the back of her neck.

  “Ugh. I was trapped in a forest fire of incense.”

  He peeked down her shirt. “Still have that suck mark on your titty? Ah, there it is.” On the sly, he tweaked her nipple. “Let’s hurry up and eat,” he said. “I want to get back to the camper and eat your PuPu Platter.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Ew.”

  “Fold your cream cheese wonton?”

  “Yuck.”

  “No? How about munch on your Lo Mein? Get it? Like a horse’s mane but lower?”

  “Ugh, please stop.”

  “Am I allowed to say I want to eat your pussy?” His deep voice was like auditory sex.

  “That works.” She bit her lips over a smile and picked up the menu. After she made her choices, she read through the beverage section and launched into an all-out laughgasm.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked.

  “Read the beverages,” she squeaked and broke down again.

  He read the section out loud. “Classic Cock. Cock Zero. Diet Cock. Cherry Cock.” He chuckled. “Boy, they have all the cock products.”

  “Wonder if they have plain cock?” she asked.

  “I’ve got your plain cock right here.”

  “Yours is more like new and improved, super-sized, hyper-caffeinated cock with a lime.”

  His gaze dropped to her mouth. “You thirsty, Bluebell?”

  Holyfucksticks! She was going to have to start bringing a change of underwear in her purse. Luckily, before she went up in flames, the waiter came over and took their order.

  Walker sang like Snow White’s dwarves. “Hi, Ho! Hi, Ho!”

  The waiter rolled his eyes.

  He cleared his throat and ordered. “And the lady will have the large spicy hot beef, Ho, with lots of sauce.”

  She snorted into her napkin. After the waiter left she said, “You didn’t even crack a smile. You’re the superhero of straight faces.”