Sex, Vows & Babies: Surviving Harley (Kindle Worlds Novella)

by K. Webster

  She beams and stands on her toes to give me a sweet kiss. Her mouth still smells like toothpaste from this morning. I nuzzle my nose against hers and let out a sigh.

  “I’m sorry, baby,” I mutter, closing my eyes in defeat.

  Her small hand cups my cheek. “For what, Harley?”

  When I reopen my eyes, her brows are scrunched together in confusion. I steal another kiss. “I’m sorry we’re stuck here. That I don’t know what’s ahead of us. That I don’t have a proper shelter for you.”

  She laughs and gives me a playful shove. “None of this is your fault. If it weren’t for you, I’d be…If we hadn’t hooked up that night…” Her green eyes darken and she frowns. “I’d still be there.”

  A growl rumbles in my chest. “You’re my wife. There’s no fucking way I’d have left you. I don’t care if I had to drag you away kicking and screaming, I’d have still gotten you out of there.”

  This seems to please her. “We’re going to be fine,” she assures me with a determined glint in her eyes. “I know it.”

  All I do is smile at her.

  At least one of us is feeling hopeful.

  * * *

  Two weeks in the woods is a long time for a New Yorker like myself. And two weeks ago, I’d have balked at the horrific idea of being stranded in the middle of nowhere for fourteen long days. But two weeks ago, Harley and I weren’t a team—a unified front. He and I against the world. Now that we are, that changes everything.

  Camping in the wild has been rough at times. Thankfully, Harley truly is a survivalist and leaves no stoned unturned when it comes to making sure we’re provided for. He’s a planner and always thinks of everything several steps ahead. We still have food in the truck that he refuses to let us touch since we have plenty of wild game at our fingertips. At first, I wasn’t a big fan of campfire cooked rabbit, but eventually I learned to like the chewy meat. The squirrels out here are plentiful and we tend to eat those more than anything. But surprisingly enough, food isn’t our focus.

  Our focus is each other.

  The more time I spend alone with Harley, the more I realize I am hopelessly head over heels for him. I look forward to seeing his handsome face first thing in the morning and enjoy the sexy rumble of his laughs. His stories about him and his brother are funny. And the man is an insatiable lover. We try not to fret over the future, but I can tell Harley is getting antsy. Every day he works on digging to get the truck unstuck. Luck hasn’t been on our side though and we’ve seen rain just about every other day. As much as I enjoy making love to him all day, every day in our little tent that’s become our home, I would love nothing more than to sleep in a real bed. To take a real bath and not these awful sponge baths. There’s a creek nearby that we collect water from, but it isn’t big enough to bathe in.

  My thoughts drift back to last week. When Harley made me hurt him. I’d been horrified and scared, but my heart beat with possessiveness when we’d finished. He was mine. I branded him.

  “Do it,” he orders through clenched teeth. “Do it now.”

  With tears welling in my eyes, I take the hot metal screwdriver that had been heating on the fire and I press it against the flesh of his back. He lets out a roar, but doesn’t dare move. Tears leak out along with a sob that had been stuck in my throat as I turn the screwdriver and sear more of his colored skin. When I finish with the mutilation, I toss the dumb screwdriver away and place the cool wet rag over his burned body.

  Barb is gone.

  A big, red, irritated “T”—for Taylor—now covers up the small tattoo where her name once was. Despite my begging him not to make me do it, he’d won. And now that it’s done, I’m glad.

  He’s mine.

  The loud chirping of a bird drags me from my thoughts. A smile plays at my lips as I crunch through the forest with the rifle ready in my hands and the knowledge that I’m on his skin now and not her.

  Harley has been careful with the ammunition. He’s hit every single one of his targets. Me on the other hand…I’m getting better. We try not to waste the bullets, but the only way I’ll get better is if I practice.

  This morning I was feeling restless, so I got up before the sun and left Harley sleeping like a rock in the tent. I wanted to find our food today.

  When I hear a noise, I raise the gun and follow the sound. Between the trees I see a deer. My heart races as my finger hovers over the trigger. Harley told me not to shoot the deer—saying the bullets in the rifle aren’t powerful enough to take one down. I chew on my lip as indecision wars through me. I’m about to shoot anyway just to see what happens when I hear the rumble of an engine. I nearly drop the weapon as I jerk around. The sound gets louder and I wonder if it’s coming for us.

  I sling the rifle over my shoulder and take off running back to our camp where the smoke from the fire I started this morning billows in the air.

  “Harley!” I shout when the tent comes into view.

  He tears out of the tent in nothing but his boxers and a wild gleam in his eyes with his handgun poised to kill. The man is so beautiful that sometimes I can’t hardly believe he’s mine and mine only. When he sees me, he relaxes and the pistol in his hand lowers. “What’s wrong, babe?”

  “A vehicle. I was looking for game when I heard it.” I pause talking and I hear the engine.

  He curses and hurries back into the tent to dress. By the time he reemerges, a truck comes into view. “Stay behind me and use that rifle if you have to,” he instructs, his voice a low growl.

  Fear shivers through me, but I clutch the gun in my hands, preparing to use it if need be. The truck stops in front of Harley’s and an old man steps out wearing camouflage coveralls.

  “This is private property,” the man says, his cheek rounded with snuff. He spits at the ground and levels Harley with a hard glare. “Time to go.”

  “We got ourselves stuck. I have a place up in Montana we’re trying to get to. My wife and I didn’t mean any harm,” Harley tells him. “Just passing through and got ourselves in a bind.”

  The old man narrows his gaze. I peek around Harley and give him a nervous smile. “Hi.”

  “Ed,” the old man says, his shoulders slightly relaxing upon seeing me. “This is my land and I’ve had my fair share of trespassers the past two weeks. Just keeping my family safe is all. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

  Harley nods as if he’s in agreement. “We’d be glad to. You got a chain to pull us out of that mud hole?”

  Ed walks over to the truck and looks over the tire that is sunk deep. “I suppose I do. How long you two been squattin’ here?” He spits again. Frown lines mar the old man’s tanned face.

  “Two weeks,” Harley tells him. “How’s everything out there?” He motions at the world around us.

  Ed’s eyes darken and his jaw clenches. “Ain’t good, fella. The whole goddamned country has gone to hell. Had to shoot a man two days ago.”

  Harley tenses and I cower back behind him. “Can you elaborate?”

  Ed spits again and shrugs as he walks back over to his truck to rummage around in the bed. “The putz decided he was going to come up on my property near my house and kill my chickens. So I shot him.”

  Terror races through me and I grip the gun. Harley shoots me an unnerved glare before pointing to the truck. “Get in,” he mouths.

  Obeying, I quickly climb into the truck and lock the doors. The old man seems a little unhinged and scary. I remain in the truck while the old man hooks the chain to the front of Harley’s bumper. Harley quickly packs up our camp. When he climbs inside, he’s tense.

  “I don’t like him,” I murmur.

  He grips my thigh and gives me a hard look. “I don’t either which is why we need to get the hell back on the road. I’m not sure what we’ll encounter out there, but I’m no longer satisfied to stay here on that man’s property.”

  Minutes later, we’re out of the hole and back on the main road, leaving the frightening old guy behind. The heater is
warm and thaws out my limbs, but I can’t relax. Neither can Harley because he grips the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white. There aren’t any cars on the road and that freaks me out. Sure, there are several pulled over and abandoned. Broken glass litters the road around them.

  “Two weeks is a long time to be out of the loop,” he murmurs and threads his fingers with mine.

  “Where is everyone?” I question.

  “I don’t know, but nothing is safe, baby. We have to be on alert. You shoot anyone who so much as looks at you funny.” He squeezes my thigh, but his eyes are alert on the road ahead and all around us.

  “Harley,” I choke out. “I’m scared.”

  He kisses me briefly on my cheek. “Me, too, baby. Me, too.”

  “Is it safe?” I question as we drive down another long, wooded, quiet road. We’re low on gas and haven’t eaten since last night. Harley didn’t want to stop until we absolutely had to.

  “Safer than the main road,” he says as he pulls off onto the shoulder. “Where are all the people?”

  I swallow and shrug. We didn’t see any cars passing by. Not one single car for hours. “I don’t know.”

  He hops out of the truck and sets to filling up while I locate a couple of cans of the disgusting Vienna sausages and a can of sweet corn. Our lunch is quick and we don’t spend too much time in one place. We need to get to Montana. The signs tell me we’re somewhere in Minnesota, close to the North Dakota border.

  The radio is silent.

  No lights dot the highway as we travel now through the dark.

  It’s like the entire world disappeared.

  “I don’t like being on the road at night,” he grumbles. “I feel like we’re too exposed.”

  “Are we going to stop?”

  He scratches at his beard and gives me a weary look. “Yeah, but we’re not going to camp out. We’re sleeping in the truck.” His voice grows hoarse. “I wouldn’t forgive myself if anything happened to you.”

  I give him a nod, not trusting my voice for fear of crying. When the social worker sat me down in my principal’s office and told me my parents had died, I was devastated and terrified. But nothing compares to the feeling settling in my belly at the moment. I’ve been in a lot of hairy, unpredictable situations, but not one has been like this. This beats them all.

  Harley pulls off on a pitch-black road and parks behind an abandoned building. He shuts the truck off. “I’ll keep you warm, tonight,” he vows. “Now get over here.”

  I crawl into his lap and straddle my big mountain man. When I rest my head on his chest, he strokes my hair. I can hear his heart thundering in his chest. He’s nervous. Squeezing him tight, I tilt my head up and kiss his perfect lips.

  “We’re going to make it,” I assure him. “We’ll make it to your house in Montana. Nothing is going to happen to us. It simply can’t. We just found our way to each other.”

  “Our house. When we make it to our house,” he corrects.

  I thread my fingers into his messy hair and kiss him with everything I have hoping to convey the overwhelming feelings rushing through me. His cock is hard beneath me and I shamelessly grind against it. The groan he lets out is his only warning before he starts tearing off my clothes. It’s a flurry of uncoordinated movement in the small space, but soon I have his shirt off and his pants undone and my jeans are tossed away. He growls as he yanks off my shirt and digs his fingers into my hips. Another few seconds and I free his cock before sliding down on him. Together we let out a unified moan.

  “God, you’re so fucking perfect,” he murmurs against my lips as he bucks into me with a thrust of his hips. “So perfect and mine.”

  I’m no longer self-conscious about the fact I haven’t shaved in a couple of weeks or properly bathed. Harley doesn’t seem to mind me in my dirty state. If anything, he seems even quicker to ravish me than ever before.

  Together, here in this truck, I can almost forget about the broken country we live in. The terrorist attacks and the terrifying threats that lie outside of this cab.

  “Harley,” I murmur against his mouth as my orgasm teases me.

  “Yeah, beautiful?”

  His eyes are strained as he devours me with his gaze.

  “I love you,” I blurt out, suddenly overcome with the need to tell him those words.

  One of his large palms cups my face and he smiles at me. “I love you too, babe. It’s you and me against this whole goddamned world.”

  He thrusts up inside of me again, this time harder than before, and I lose myself to an all-body consuming orgasm. I’m still shuddering when I feel the heat of his own climax spurting up inside me. After using all of my energy on our lovemaking, I fall against his chest. His strong arms wrap around me as he holds me while we’re still physically linked with his now softening dick still inside me. The profession of our love still hangs in the air. I don’t regret telling him one bit. Several weeks ago, I’d have laughed at the sappy, love-struck woman I’ve become around Harley. I’d have told her to get a grip. But now… now it just feels right. In a world where everything has gone to hell, I have my own little piece of heaven in the form of a big, hairy, tattooed mountain man.

  I doze off and at some point, Harley disentangles us and cleans me up. We spend the rest of the night curled up uncomfortably on the bench seat trying to sleep. For most of the night, I stare in the darkness wide-eyed and fretting about our future. Harley, thank goodness, sleeps heavily and even snores a time or two. When the sun begins to peek over the horizon, I decide I’ll sneak out and take a quick restroom break and then figure out something for us to eat.

  I grab his gigantic shirt and pull it on over my much smaller body before shoving my bare feet into my tennis shoes. It’s cold out, but I’ll be quick.

  “Crap,” I hiss out as soon as the cold air hits my bare legs. I softly close the door behind me and all but run around to the back of the building. I’m about to squat down to do my business when I hear something. Voices. Panic rises up in my chest.

  Laughter.

  Deep and masculine.

  Sounds like a couple of men.

  I creep back around the building and have the truck in my sights, but I don’t see the men anywhere. I start toward the vehicle when I hear a voice from behind me.

  “Well lookie fucking here,” a male with a gravelly voice says and then whistles. “Here I thought we hit gold with finding a truck that wasn’t here yesterday and now I know we’ve hit the damn jackpot because that truck comes with a girl.”

  Whipping around, I face off with the voice. Two men. They can’t be any older than twenty. Probably a few weeks ago they were college kids. No worries in the world except the next kegger they were going to. Certainly not that the world would turn dark. That their normal life would become an apocalyptic one. Now, these two men are far from typical college kids. They’re hard. I can see it in the harsh way their eyes dart over my half-naked form. The older one with a scruffy beard licks his lips and his hand goes to the knife at his belt.

  “W-Were just passing through,” I stammer. “We’ll be on our way and off your property in five minutes.”

  The younger one beams at me. His smile is handsome, but the intent behind it is evil.

  “Dollface, you don’t have to go anywhere. In fact, my buddy and I’d like to give you a proper greeting,” he says with a growl before grabbing his crotch in a crude way. “Come to Papa.”

  I feel the scream building in my throat, but it never gets to escape because the older bearded guy with the knife pounces on me. Once second I’m turning to run and the next second, he has his meaty arms around my waist and the knife digging painfully into the flesh at my throat.

  “Don’t fucking make a sound,” he seethes into my ear. His cock is hard against my back. Tears well in my eyes, but I quickly blink them back so I can see whatever it is these men plan to do to me. I need to be focused and aware.

  “She’s hot,” the younger guy says with a grin. “I haven’
t been laid in days. Not since we found ‘ol Lucy Jenner hiding out at the gas station up the street. What is she? Sixteen now? Poor girl squealed like a pig when I took her virgin ass.” When I gasp in horror, both men laugh. “What about you, Dollface? Do you squeal like a pig, too? You seem more like a beggar.” He storms over to me causing me to cry out in surprise. His mouth sprays spittle all over me as he speaks. “You’ll probably beg me to kill you. To make it end.” A moan of terror escapes me when his hand slips into my panties and brutally fingers my dry opening. “Don’t worry. I’m not a killer. You’ll feel every single thing I do to you.”

  The sob coming out of me is choked. This man with his finger pushing in and out of me is psychotic. My savior is asleep not even a hundred yards away around the other side of the building while I’m captured by two vile men. What has this world come to? What have we missed out on while being secluded in the woods those couple of weeks?

  When he starts to unbutton his jeans with his free hand, I go limp in the other man’s arms. Fear seizes my full bladder and before I can stop myself, I’m peeing.

  “What the fuck?” the younger guy growls as he yanks his fingers from me. “The bitch just fucking pissed on me.” With his urine soaked fingers, he backhands me across the face. The sudden whack against my cheekbone has stars blinding me for a moment. Bile rises in my throat and I desperately choke it down while trying to blink away my daze. These two men plan to rape and defile me. I can’t be unconscious for that. I’ll fight them off—take any opportunity I can to get away. I’m just regaining my vision when I hear the first pop.

  There is cursing and the young man in front of me drops to his knees clutching his chest. Surprise is in his eyes as bright crimson blooms around his hands.

  “What the—?” The guy behind me roars, but then is silenced.

  Pop!

  His tight grip loosens and he releases me. Warmth pours down my shoulder. When I touch it and see that it’s blood, I begin trembling. I’m so confused. My ear is ringing loudly. I don’t understand what’s happening. I’m not hurt, but there’s blood. My knees buckle beneath me and I hit the gravel with a yelp. With a pained sob, I scramble away from them trying desperately to get away. As soon as a large arm hooks around my middle, I let out an ear-piercing screech.