by Nicole Fox
I stopped moving for a moment, seizing as my whole body shook around his cock, milking him with my spasming insides. I screamed out triumphantly around his hand, licking his palm. He moved his hand, but figured out a better way to keep me occupied. He stuffed his finger in my mouth, pushing them in so I was forced to gag and suck on them as he kept fucking me from behind. He was close, I could tell, from the way he kept pounding into me, his pace becoming rapid.
I groaned in delight as another orgasm rocked me, the dirtiness of what we were doing have its desired effect. I shook hard on his length, my whole world dissolving as I sucked on the fingers shoved into my mouth and clung desperately to the metal shelves in front of me.
“Where do you want it?” he groaned after a moment, popping his fingers from my mouth.
“Inside me,” I gasped. “Fuck, I want to feel you cum inside me.”
“Then put a hand over your own mouth,” he barked lowly as he grabbed hold of my hips with both hands. He started to pound into me hard, the shelving unit I was clinging onto thundering and shaking as he gave it to me the only way he knew how.
I clapped a hand over my mouth and screamed, a final orgasm wracking my body.
Behind me he screamed too, his words inarticulate as he rammed into me, his cock stroking in and out. I felt him swell, felt him explode inside me, filling my insides. I didn't care that I didn't know his name, and I didn't care that I never would. I hadn't felt like this in months, years even, and everything came crashing down around me.
He lurched forward, grabbed a handful of my tit, his cock still pumping into me, his groans still low and throaty. Hunched over, he pulled me up till he was laid across my naked back, his hips still humping into me. He growled again, his words almost completely inarticulate in my ear.
As I thrust back onto his softening rod, I realized something. He hadn't just been moaning and groaning as he came. He'd been moaning words.
“Oh fuck,” he repeated, his hips finally coming to a slow, easy, sweaty stop.
I realized then, that this time around, he'd dropped the third word. That third word had been my name: Lydia.
Panic overcame me. I'd had to run before, in the past, had to drop everything and flee if it meant surviving. I'd had to do this plenty of times in the last five years. Of course, I'd never had to fuck and run. Not like this, at least. Old habits die hard, and instincts kick in fast. The easiest way to get out of this, I knew, was to play it like I hadn't heard him mutter my name.
“That good enough for you?” he asked, slapping my haunch as he licked lips, smacking them a little in satisfaction. His cock, almost completely deflated now, slid from me, and retreated and began to pull his pants back up.
I licked my own lips as I turned around and pulled up my own panties and jeans. “Wonderful.”
“Guess I should tell you my-”
I cut him off with a finger to his lips. “Nope,” I said slyly. “Knowing your name would spoil half the fun, handsome,” I continued as I put my arms around his neck and pressed my naked chest into his shirt.
He wrapped his arms around me and leaned down, kissing me one last time. “Too bad I know your name . . . Amy,” he said after our goodbye kiss, and flicked at the name tag on my shirt. Good cover, thought. But I’d already heard him mention my real name.
“Oh well,” I replied, pulling back from him and reaching down to grab my bra and shirt. “Just remember to leave a good tip.”
“Thought I gave you my best one already,” he joked.
“It was pretty good,” I admitted as I pulled my clothes back on. “But even one that nice doesn't pay the rent. Now, you give me a second so my boss doesn't get suspicious, okay? Buck probably wouldn't approve of me fucking patrons in his store room.”
“Good point,” he said. “I'll wait here for a second.”
Dressed, I slipped out of the storeroom door, saying, “I'll bring you a slice of pie, too, on the house. You like apple, handsome?”
“Love it,” he replied, grinning like a well-laid idiot.
“See you in a sec, then,” I replied, blowing him a kiss before the door could close all the way between us.
“Yeah,” he replied, still grinning.
My face instantly hardened as the door shut behind us. Sexy, or not, a great lay, or not, I wasn't going anywhere with this man.
Chapter Four
Kort
Broads sure are stupid. That was the first thought that went through my head as I shoved out of the storage room and headed back to my corner booth. Not only was I going to get Lydia Banks and drag her home, but I'd gotten a little piece of her on the side before the plan came together.
So what if I'd accidentally moaned her name? I'd practically growled it when I said it. Either she hadn't heard me, or hadn't understood what I said. Hell, she'd even offered me a slice of fucking pie afterward.
If I had known the job would have been this easy, I probably wouldn't have tried to push her away like I had. But, it seemed, little Ms. Banks enjoyed the rough stuff more than the average woman. Not that it mattered much. That was both the first and last time I was going to fuck her. Especially after I got her stuffed away in the car.
I took my spot back at the booth and immediately got Xander on the phone. My boss answered after a couple rings. “How's it hanging, Kort? You got her?”
“Not yet,” I whispered, looking around the restaurant to make sure she wasn't within earshot. “Got her in my sights and about to scoop her up. Just wanted to give you a progress report.”
Xander laughed on the other end of the line, a sound like rocks being pulverized. “Alright, big guy, you call me again when you got her. And, remember, you be careful with that one. Joey would probably like her in one piece. And, don't forget how slippery she is. Like a fucking eel, that one.”
“Yeah, yeah, boss,” I assured him, “I know, I know. Call you when I got her.”
I hung up the phone, laughing at my boss's paranoia, shaking my head. I dropped the phone on the table and drank a big mouthful of the shitty coffee, so shitty no amount of sugar in the world was ever going to make it decent, and laughed again.
“Cheeseburger and fries?” a gruff voice asked from beside me.
I turned and looked at the man who'd run my food out to me, a big, burly guy who looked like he'd been around the worst blocks. “Yeah, that's me.”
The man set the plate roughly down in front of him. “Bon appetite,” he said, the French words sounding like fancy garbage coming out of his mouth.
I pick up the burger and dug into it, completely oblivious, not even wondering why Lydia hadn't run the food out herself. The burger was good. Real good. She'd been right. The old man who'd run the food went behind the counter and began to wipe things down. I sat there thinking, wondering about my post-coital apple pie. Something about that sounded really nice.
“Hey,” I called to the older gentleman after I finished swallowing down a bite of delicious meat patty, “Amy said something about getting me a slice of pie?”
He stopped his counter wipe mid-sweep and looked at me, the gears in his head turning. Then, it was like it clicked, and he suddenly snapped his fingers and pointed to the ceiling. “That's right! Sorry, Amy mentioned it on her way out, and I completely forgot. You wanted a slice of pie to go with your burger.”
“No big deal, chief,” I said cheerily back as he cut a slice of pie from one of the ones displayed beneath a glass dome on the counter. He brought the little piece of dessert around to me, apologizing again.
Burger forgotten for the moment, I leaned down and took a bite.
“What d'you think?” the older man asked as he planted himself next to the booth. “Was my wife's recipe before she passed.”
“It's great,” I replied, my mouth full of pie and crust. I cut another slice off and stuffed it in my mouth, closing my eyes as I enjoyed the flaky crust and the crispness of the cinnamon covered apples. As I continued to chew it hit me. He'd said something about her telli
ng him on the way out the door. I put the fork down on the little saucer beside the pie and turned to him slowly. “Did you say she told you about my pie on the way out the door?”
The old man nodded. “Yep. She said, 'Hey, Buck, I'm outta here. Give the guy at table five a slice of apple pie. Throw his tips in tomorrow.'” Buck shrugged and just looked at me.
I slowly shook my head. “Anything seem off about her?” I asked as I stood up and pulled my wallet out.
“No,” Buck said as he looked at my unfinished plate. “Not particularly. She wasn't in a rush or anything. Why?”
“No reason,” I said with a shrug. I looked back to Buck and nodded as I dropped a fifty on the table. “Sorry, Buck. Pie was great, but I gotta run.”
“But your pie!” Buck called out from behind me as I headed for the parking lot. “And your burger!”
Maybe there was still time. Maybe she didn't know who I was, and she was trying to ditch out on me after a quick and rough fuck. On the other hand, maybe my slip had caught her attention, and she was ditching on a different account. Either way, if Buck thought something had been up with the way I was acting, he might give her a call before I found wherever she'd been staying.
I stopped by the car and looked around, scanning the immediate area. Buck had mentioned she'd walked out the back, but I hadn't seen a car parked out there when I'd cased the joint before parking. Without any other cars missing from the parking lot, that meant she was within walking distance.
Two motels were around the area, catering to truckers and general lowlifes, both offering weekly and monthly rates. My money was on her being in one of the two if she was able to walk to Buck's Diner each day. Which meant, if she made me, there was about a fifty-fifty chance of her being gone before I had a chance to find her again.
I crossed my heart, kissed my two fingers, and hopped into the driver’s seat of my '68 Camaro SS. Hopefully, luck was on my side for once.
Chapter Five
Lydia
I whistled an upbeat tune and nearly hopped and skipped back to my hotel room. I'd left that sucker so well fucked he probably wouldn't even remember what day of the week it was, let alone realize I'd left as soon as I walked out of the closet.
Too bad I was going to have to blow this joint. I liked Buck, and I even liked the guys over at the truck stop next door. They looked out for me in their own ways, and I never really had to watch my back around them. But now that handsome creep had figured out who I was, I knew he'd try and drag me back to Pops like all the other idiots who had come along.
I hadn’t ever told Mario and Buck about the real me, and for good reason. Firstly, it would put me in danger. The more people know a secret, the less secret it becomes. Secondly, I knew Mario and Buck were the types that would try and stand up for me.
Luckily, after five years of practice, I'd gotten pretty good at this little act.
I stopped in front of the door to the motel I paid for by the week, keys jingling in my hand. I heard a car, and old hot rod like my mother used to love, growling its way through the lot at low speeds. Curious about what kind it was, just for old time's sake, I glanced back over my shoulder.
I nearly dropped my keys in surprise. Whoever Mr. Handsome was, he sure was smarter than I'd given him credit for. He drove by slowly in an old Camaro SS, a late 60s, his eyes searching around the motel but not in my direction.
A sudden shot of adrenaline entered my veins when the shock of seeing him at the motel wore off. Frantically, I shoved my key in the lock, threw open the door, and bolted inside. I closed the door behind me, slammed the chain in place, and collapsed back against the thin piece of wood. I took a series of deep breaths as I looked around the motel parking lot.
I needed to be calm. I needed to think. He hadn't seen me, I figured. Which meant I still had time to pack up and get out of here, either slipping out the back, or backtracking to Buck's and borrowing Mario's car for the time being. If worse came to worse Pops had taught me a few tricks for a bind like this. Lockpicking, how to jimmy a car door, how to hot wire older vehicles.
I didn't bother with packing. I just changed my top so I'd have a better chance of not being recognized at a distance, took my hair from its pony tail and pinned it up with some bobby pins, and grabbed a thick hoody for when the sun went down and the air went from damned hot to too damned cold. I needed to move light, which really meant grabbing my clutch-sized run bag. I always kept one packed, something with a roll of cash, a couple hundred bucks worth of prepaid Visa gift cards, and a few fresh changes of underwear, and some clean socks.
Everything else, changes of clothes, sunglasses, food, whatever, you could get on the road, no questions asked. Every shop sold the basics. No reason to carry a whole suitcase of easy to find items. They'd just weigh you down. I'd learned after my second or third run that almost nothing was irreplaceable. And the only thing that wasn't? That was you.
I tied my hoody around my waist and grabbed my little run bag from the bottom drawer of the motel room's nightstand, really nothing more than a purse, and hit the door, keys in my hand. I unchained and unlocked it, then was out onto the walkway, letting the door slam behind me as I headed back to the diner. I stepped into the parking lot between two older sedans, hoping to stay low as I made my way out of there.
“Well,” said a voice behind me, “fancy seeing you here, Amy.”
I grumbled as I stopped and turned around, my curled lips transforming into a seductive smile as I did.
There he was in all that cocksure glory, his thumbs hooked in his hip pockets, his heavy boots clumping with each step on the walkway as he approached me. There wasn't anything menacing about his posture, but I could tell from the way he moved, he could outdistance in me in a heartbeat and bring me to the ground no problem. Fighting would be my last resort with Handsome.
“Well, hello, Handsome,” I said, playing his game and smiling as widely as I could, hands on my hips as I cocked one out to the side. “Sorry I ducked out like that, but it was the end of my shift, and I'm not much for long good-byes. Besides, I thought you were just passing through on your way to LA?”
He laughed. “Got a call saying my audition was pushed back,” he said, moving his head from side-to-side as if was weighing the possibilities of life, “so I decided I might as well call it a night and not leave till the morning.”
“Audition?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “Really, you had an audition out there?”
“Just a small role,” he said, badly faking embarrassment, “but it could lead to something bigger on a TV show.”
This was almost laughable, but I could see what he was doing as I glanced around the lot. It was getting close to evening, and the motel was fairly busy for once. If he made any kind of move on me, out here in the open, someone would be on the phone to 911 in a heartbeat, especially if I screamed. But, if he was betting on my being oblivious to who he was, he might be able to get me back into my room, or his, and stow me away for the night.
Of course, two could play at this.
“But it's been pushed back?” I asked as I approached him, a knowing smile on my lips. I could act this guy into a corner any day of the week. “For how long?” I asked as I stopped within arm's reach of him, showing him I wasn't scared.
Inside, of course, I was shaking like a leaf. But, sometimes being a little scared can be a lot of fun.
“Just one day,” he said, looking around the parking lot. “But, like I said, I'm not leaving till the morning. What about you? Stay around here?”
I nodded past him to my motel room. “That's my place. I was just going out to grab a bottle and call it a night. Want me to pick you up something and swing by your room?”
“How about I drive you over,” he asked as he came a step closer, looming in front of me with bulging muscles, and that musky smell of him, “and we pick something up for the both of us?”
If I gave in and hopped in the car with him, that was it for me, and I knew it. But, also, if I ob
jected and let him walk with me to the liquor store, chances are I'd still end up out of view of bystanders and open myself up to an attempt. No, the best thing to do was to get him somewhere on my terms. And, from our one short interaction, I knew exactly how to do that.
“Hmmm, only reason I was grabbing something was because I was going to be all lonely tonight,” I said as I stepped closer and slipped my arms around his neck, standing on tip toes as I let my body melt into his. My fingers danced through the back of his air, over an earlobe, as he closed his eyes briefly and smiled. “Not much sense in getting one now, don't you think?”
Handsome didn't seem to need much convincing. He reached down and grabbed my ass with both hand, his big mitts covering both cheeks easily through the fabric of my hoody, squeezing hard, pulling me into him. “I see your point,” he growled in that surly voice of his, sending a shiver up my spine as he lowered his lips to mine.