Ruck Me: A Play On series short

by Cd Brennan

When he left, Sierra took a seat in one of the chairs along the window and Dave sat next to her. “Who is Sasha?”

  “My professional name.”

  Huh. Dave wondered if that was like a pen name or something. “Do you also work with that company?”

  “Sorta,” she said as she dug around in her purse. She pulled out a mirror and a small bag where she withdrew lipstick. She reapplied the red that was still there. By Dave’s calculations she didn’t need another coat, but maybe it was a defense mechanism or something. He wanted to take her hand, or put his arm around her shoulder, remind her what they had done this morning, remind her there was something between them, but Sierra had closed down, and Dave knew from his own sister that meant stay quiet and clear until they were out of their mood.

  At the jingle of the doorbell, both of them looked up to where the clerk stood with his back to the door, holding it open. “All set,” he said. “The car is running for you.”

  Dave stepped out to see a shiny black Camaro rumbling next to the curve. It was beautiful, and if a car could give a man a hard-on, then this one would be it.

  “I’m glad it’s not red,” Sierra said as she passed him on the way to the driver’s side. “Less likely to be spotted.”

  Man, this girl was crazy. And he loved it! “You sure you don’t want me to drive?”

  “Nope, we’re gonna go fast.” She smiled at him before plopping into the car.

  Phew. He’d done more in the last 12 hours with Sierra than he’d done his whole life. After he buckled up, she revved the engine and turned and graced him with one of her dynamic smiles, the kind that said a person was happy, all white teeth and lips, wrinkles at the corners of her eyes from the effort. Sierra slipped the shifter into gear and pulled away from the rental place smooth as can be.

  When they hit the highway onramp, she accelerated through the gears so fast that Dave had to hold onto the oh-shit bar to keep from being jerked around. The car roared with power, and with barely a glance, Sierra merged into the fast-flowing traffic and veered over to the far lane. After passing a few cars on the right, she settled back into the fast lane. He couldn’t tell the speed since the red indicator hovered over numerous numbers from his view, but they had to be going at least ninety.

  “We don’t have to rush.” At her current speed, he’d end up with less alone-time with his new infatuation. He wanted to keep Sierra to himself, only her and him as it had been. Reality was out there, but he wanted to postpone normalcy for as long as possible.

  “Sure we do. You have to play rugby, and I want to spend time with my brother.”

  Dave grabbed the handhold again as she barely missed the front bumper of a heavy-duty truck when she swerved in front. “It’s okay. We don’t have to die to do that.”

  She laughed and rolled down her window, creating a maelstrom of noise inside the car. “I’ll take care of you.”

  And for some reason Dave believed her. There was something hard about Sierra, like the callouses on his hands. Because of his circumstances, his hands in cold water constantly, stripping leaves from stems, handling large quantities of greens, the constant prick of rose thorns, his hands reflected the life he’d had since he was a young boy and worked in his grandmother’s greenhouse. Sierra was the same. Something in her past had roughened her up, but on the inside, not the outside.

  “So, you said your parents were partiers?” Dave asked over the noise of the engine and the wind.

  Instead of closing her window to allow for conversation, Sierra just shouted over the cacophony. “Unfortunately.” He was surprised she hadn’t added music to the mix yet and completely abolished any interaction they could have.

  “So you took care of Dick?”

  Strands of her platinum hair were swept around her face from the wind. She sighed, although not audible, the rise and fall of her chest suggestion enough, her lips parted to let her exhaustion pass. That motion struck him. That was the missing factor he hadn’t understood. She was tired.

  “Yep, I was as much a mom to him as a sister. I made his lunches, made sure his clothes were clean, made him do his homework.”

  “Wow. That’s admirable.”

  She shrugged one shoulder up. “Not sure about that. It just had to be done. No one else to do it.”

  But that didn’t ring true. He could tell Sierra loved her brother as much as Dave loved his own siblings.

  Their lane cleared of cars, and Sierra downshifted to accelerate free of traffic. “What about you? What’s your story?”

  “Not much to tell. Grew up outside of Chicago with my family and grandparents. We all ran a large greenhouse there that specialized in African violets. Which are hard to grow, by the way.”

  “Ah, so that’s where you got your flower stuff.”

  “Yep, learned it all from my gran who had a flower shop off the greenhouse, used our own flowers and everything. Went to floral design college locally, then bought a shop for sale in TC.”

  “Anything else?”

  Was she mocking him? He didn’t want to believe it, so answered. “Have a sister and a brother, both still in the Chicago area.”

  “All with a house in the burbs and two-point-five kids and a dog?”

  Yes, definitely sarcasm. “One of them.”

  “Hmmm…” At this point, she clicked on the radio, and while going ninety miles an hour, proceeded to scan through the channels.

  When she had to slam on the breaks because she’d been boxed in, he reached for the radio. “Let me do that.”

  She slapped away his hand. “I got this.” Sierra swerved into the middle lane and accelerated around the slow car, then ducked back into the fast lane. She never stopped the scanning, and Dave’s heart was about to launch out of his chest.

  At this rate, they’d be to Nashville in a few hours. Maybe that had been her plan all along. Maybe she didn’t want to be with him anymore. Maybe she’d used him this morning for sex. She’d been horny and used him. He felt so…used. The thing was, Dave had never had sex for just sex. Always long-term relationships and always with a woman he cared about deeply. Sierra was no different, except the long-term part.

  But he could say he cared already. It had been immediate with Sierra. He didn’t understand why, but it was what he felt. And if she didn’t like him in return, well, he didn’t know what to do about that.

  His hand still on the oh-shit bar, he stared out the window. Suburbia rushed by. Endless buildings on the side of the highway, Home Depot and Walmart, fast food and restaurants, signs everywhere. Typical America, and what he didn’t miss at all about Chicago. Give him quiet Traverse City and his flower shop any day. But he could totally see Sierra living in the city. She seemed the type, all go and attitude. His gut twisted at the thought. They were too different.

  At some point, Sierra had chosen a channel and some sort of dance music bounced around the car. He couldn’t stand it. He scanned up to the next channel, didn’t care what it was, just as long as it wasn’t the crap billowing from the speakers.

  “What’s crawled up your butt?” Fortunately, she didn’t change it back and both hands were on the steering wheel. Unfortunately, the next station happened to be the Christian channel. Some radio minister was in a full passionate rage, railing about sins of man. How it all came down to the apple. The stupid apple. Dave was pretty open-minded but…damn. “Nothing’s wrong.” They were on the other side of Indianapolis, traffic had cleared, and they were down to two lanes, which made Dave feel a bit better. He relaxed a bit, slumping in the seat.

  “Sure there is. Men just don’t talk about stuff.” And then she was accelerating across traffic, barely missing a semi coming up the middle lane, to the exit ramp for a rest stop.

  “Shit, Sierra! You’re going to get us killed. It’s like you have some death wish or something.” Even if she had to pee real bad, he wouldn’t forgive her if she killed them.

  She slowed as she circled around, and Dave dropped his hand from its clutch around the bar a
t the top of his door. His body was buzzing, from adrenaline or their speed or what, he didn’t know.

  “Maybe I do.” She’d barely spoken above a whisper, her words mingling with those of the over-excited minister on the radio.

  Dave jabbed at the radio and shut it off. “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Now, don’t be like that.”

  “Two can play your game, you know.”

  She was right, and for the life of him, Dave had no idea why he was angry. It’s not like they were dating. It’s not like they knew each other at all. She’d never been at the rugby games before, and he would have noticed her. She was that striking, that different.

  When Sierra chose the truck side at the fork instead of the car side, Dave wondered but didn’t bother to say anything. They could still get to the restrooms, and he’d buy a drink from the vending machine while he was at it. He was starving, too, but Sierra seemed on a mission so he’d fuel up once he got to the rugby grounds. Hopefully, there would be some food tents there and enough time before the next match. Almost nine a.m. At this rate, he would miss their morning game, but if Sierra dropped him right at the gate when they arrived, he could get in the second game.

  As she slowed, her phone rang. She grabbed for it out of the console and answered after a quick glance at the screen. “What the hell, Dick?”

  There was garble on the other end.

  “You jackasses left us!”

  More garble, but definitely Dick’s voice.

  “Yes, he’s here with me.” A pause. “We’ll be there in a few hours.” More garble and then Sierra shouted into the phone, “I’m fine, thanks for asking!”

  But there was no response and Sierra chucked her phone back into the cup holder. She drove past the bathrooms as if she was going back onto the highway and then looped around to park between a wooded area and an idling semi.

  “What’s up?”

  When she turned off the car, the constant rumble of the engine stopped, and there was finally silence. Sierra unbuckled her belt and turned in her seat toward him. “That was Dick.”

  “Yeah, I got that.”

  She was silent other than the drumming of her fingers on the steering wheel.

  He unbuckled his own belt and grasped the door handle. “You need to go?”

  “Not right now.”

  Okay then. Dave was about to leave, but there was something in her eyes that made him stay. They glistened and were a bit red that made the gray of her eyes striking. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine.”

  She didn’t seem fine. She had pushed up the sleeves on her V-neck shirt, and her chest heaved as if she’d run a mile.

  “Can I get you anything while I’m inside? Coke? Bag of chips?”

  She shook her head once and turned to the window. When she looked back at him, her eyes had cleared, her jaw set, and a determined look was set on her face. Dave’s heart kicked up. He had a hard time reading women in general, but Sierra, she was twice the mystery. He had no idea what she’d been thinking at any point since they’d been together.

  In one movement, she crawled out from under the steering wheel and crossed the center console to straddle his lap.

  Whoa. What was she doing? She didn’t hesitate but kissed him hard on the mouth, working him until he opened and their tongues mixed. He hardened underneath her crotch in an instant, and as soon as he did, she started rocking.

  Holy fuck. And he hated the F-bomb, but it was what he was feeling right now. She kissed him violently, darting her tongue in and out of his mouth. When she bit his lower lip hard, his dick jerked into her crotch. This was so hot. He should worry about being seen, but didn’t care. Didn’t care about anything about Sierra. He reached up under her shirt and pulled her bra down over one breast. He squeezed and then pinched her nipple; all the while she humped his cock furiously. He’d come soon.

  He ripped the other cup of her bra down until he had both of her breasts in his hands. So perfect, her nipples hard under his hands. She groaned. “I love the feel of your hands. I like it rough.” God, he was going to come if she kept talking to him like this, her hot words, her tits, her grinding onto his dick like she was.

  When she pulled down his tracksuit pants and boxers to free his cock, he unzipped her jeans. He needed to be inside her, if not with his dick, with his fingers. As she grasped his length, he groaned and then held his breath to keep his orgasm in check. He dipped his palm over her mound and fingered her clit before shoving his middle finger up her center.

  She arched back, pressing her breast into his palm. Every time she stroked him, he shoved his finger inside her hard, following her rhythm. She attacked his mouth, her hair tickling his face and shoulders. It was all sensation now; nothing existed outside of their contact. As she increased her speed, pumping his dick, he did the same inside her but pressed his thumb into her clit.

  She broke their kiss, and their gazes locked. He was completely and utterly lost in Sierra, everything that she was, everything she represented. Although their pace was frantic, he kept his eyes on her, and when he felt his orgasm coming, he rubbed her clit in a circle until she came with him, both of them jerking hard, her face twisted in pain and ecstasy, the most beautiful sight he’d ever beheld.

  Chapter 6

  After they both had visited the restroom and grabbed a drink, they were on the road again, this time with Dave at the wheel. She had conceded, and he was glad. Not only because he got a chance to drive the muscle car, but he felt safer but it satisfied and urge to take care of her.

  She was relaxed in the seat, her feet propped up on the dash. And once he was in drive, she held his hand. Both of their windows were down, and the wind rushed in. They didn’t speak, but there was a satisfied, happy vibe in the air. Of course from the hot sex, but a sense of contentment also. Every once in a while she rubbed her thumb along his.

  They had compromised on a classic rock station that pumped out Aerosmith, AC-DC, and Def Leopard. They had hit a stretch of road that was wooded, more natural, leading into Nashville, and with the music, windows down, and the sun warming the car, his hand around Sierra’s small one, he could have stayed there forever, the highway stretching in front of them, the unknown around each curve, freedom in their movement. Unlike her, he stuck to the slow lane and rarely passed. Kept the cruise control on 75 mph. She had complained at first, noting that a car like the Camaro wasn’t meant to be driven like a family sedan, but let it go when Dave persisted.

  He would get Sierra and him to the tournament in one piece.

  And to his utter disappointment, the suburbs surrounding Nashville started to appear, the traffic picked up, and the normal chaos of city flashed past them in ugly clips of signs, cement, and smog.

  Sierra perked up and drew her phone from her bag. She dialed someone and waited, her phone to her ear.

  “Hey.”

  Dick had answered.

  “Where are you now?”

  A few quiet beats, then, “We’re coming into Nashville.”

  She glanced quickly at Dave and then straight ahead again. “No, it’s all good. We’ll be there in twenty minutes. Send me the address.”

  “Are they at the fields?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Did he even ask how we were getting there?”

  She played with her phone, not looking at him. “Nope. He was more concerned about you. They lost the first match.”

  Shit. Not because they lost, but because Dick seemed to regard his sister so little. And here she had practically raised him.

  “Did he ask…about us…? You know.”

  She looked up from her phone. “Nope. Didn’t ask where we slept, where we ate, how we were getting down to Nashville. Nice, eh?”

  It was a crock of shit, but Dave didn’t think that was what Sierra wanted to hear. Obviously two things were going on here. One, Dick didn’t consider Dave a threat to his sister and two, he took his sister’s love for granted. What an asshole. If he wa
s any man at all, he would be compelled by both.

  Sierra held out her phone and a robotic female voice came on, giving him directions to the Nash Bash rugby tournament. She was morose, her hand holding the phone limply as she stared out the window.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “No.”

  Of course not. “Do you want to talk about us?”

  The GPS directed him to take the right two lanes of the highway to head on 40 East toward Lebanon, a suburb outside of Nashville.

  She tucked her hair behind her ear and wet her lips. “Is there an us?”

  “I’d like there to be.” As different as she was, he was sure of it. In a short period of time, she’d enhanced his life ten-fold, maybe more. He’d never had that before. All his life, he’d never had a woman make him feel so…alive.

  She squeezed his hand but didn’t reply. Not at first. “We don’t match.”

  His heart sunk. As much as he knew the same, he understood something she didn’t. “That doesn’t matter. I’m not going to look back and regret not trying.”

  She sighed, a big upheaval of her chest. “I’m not the one for you”

  Dave waved when a minivan let them in. “How do you know?”

  “I just do.”

  “So you don’t want to go on a date when we get back to TC?”

  She scoffed. “A date? Are you kidding?”

  Okay, so maybe they had happened in a non-traditional way. Didn’t mean Dave didn’t want to make up for it. Pick her up for a date, bring her flowers, the bouquet already planned, take her to a nice dinner, open the doors for her, lead her with his arm, treat her like a lady.

  “No, not kidding.” He pinched his lips. Maybe she wasn’t worth the embarrassment. The hit to his pride. But maybe…just maybe…she was. “Would you like to go out to dinner with me?”

  Sierra huffed out of her nose. “Aren’t we past that point?”

  Dave must have missed the GPS directions since Sierra told him to exit. “Right now, get over to the right lane.”

  He swerved and then downshifted until they came to a stop at the red light. He was a florist, for God’s sake. There was always romance. He believed that truly, as much as the lads gave him grief about it. “No. Never.”