by Paula Cox
Miranda smiled, exuding the air of a coquette as she breathed a laugh. His gaze shot to her face where her green eyes burned with desire.
“Where-where'd you get that?” Tyler almost bit his traitorous, stuttering tongue. He sounded like an innocent, inexperienced schoolboy. His gaze dipped back down over her body and he wondered how the fabric could make her look so delectable.
“It was a birthday gift, one year.” Miranda rolled her eyes and snorted, “From Naomi, of all people.”
A dark bitterness swept over his thoughts. “So, other dudes have seen this.”
“No, I didn't feel I was my style.” Miranda gave a halfhearted shrug, but peered at Tyler through her lowered lashes.
“But now you do?” His eyebrows furrowed, but a slight hope took root in his thoughts.
“I feel different around you, I guess.” Miranda glanced away, both shy and coy. Her hand drifted to her throat, stroking it out of nervous habit. The motion just made Tyler want to kiss and nibble on her neck more. Her green eyes flickered to his face, as if his thoughts were clearly transmitted through the air. Her voice slipped to a huskier, deeper tone as she added, “And I like it.”
The air locked in his lungs and his eyes widened imperceptibly. His heart thrummed in his chest at the prospect and, faintly, the words of her parents and friends snapped back to him. They had used many 'choice' words. Slut, troublemaker, deviant. Tyler wasn't sure if Miranda would agree with their terminology. If anything, he always assumed she felt more comfortable, more free, around him.
The fact she enjoyed it, and even sought it out, made his heart swell with giddiness. And – boy – did she enjoy it. Tyler closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He had to leave soon, if not yesterday. When he opened his eyes, bombarded by desires at the mere sight of her, he knew he had lost. Miranda grinned as his lusty gaze surveyed her once more. From her smirk, down her curves, to her long legs.
If this was his last night with her, he was going to make it the most enjoyable of her life.
He swept over the short distance between himself and her. His weight bounded on the bed, pinning her to the covers. She squeaked at the sudden movement, but it was lost against his lips. Warm palms and deft fingers were on her, touching her everywhere. Her breathing hitched as she pressed her hands to his chest. His heart thrummed against her palm, punctuating her pleasure.
Miranda's hands slid under his vest, gently removing it from his shoulders. Tyler complied without thought. Next, she eased his shirt from his torso, breaking the kiss. As he knelt above her, her gaze flicked across his torso. A contented sigh left her lips as her eyes wandered.
The candlelight flickered over his musculature, warping the black tattoos that lined his arms and his chest. Her fingernails traced the tribal tattoos lining his abdomen. Tyler shuddered while the electric current raced down his body, as if her nails guided the sensations. She grinned up at him, catching his brief quavering. Tyler leaned over her, again, with one hand against the bed and the other trailing down her body. His fingers massaged against the flimsy fabric of her panties. On the other side of the garment, Miranda's pussy was swollen and wet. Delighted pressure expanded in his core, straining against his groin. He moaned, pressing his head into the crook of her shoulder. Her sweet scent filled his nose. He felt intoxicated by this woman.
Tyler's lips drifted to her breasts, his teeth and tongue working through the material. Miranda moaned and arched under him, enjoying his harsher nibbles. His fingers at her sex found her clit and teased it with rough, circular strokes.
She moaned and writhed under him. Hot air licked at her lungs, making them ache with hormones. Her fingers worked their way down to his pants with a vivid mission in mind. She wanted the pants undone; she wanted him naked and on top of her. His body heat, his firm muscles, his penetration. Her toes curled into the bed simply thinking about it.
Tyler helped her efforts along. As soon as his pants were undone, he shoved them down. Both his hands drifted up near Miranda's head, bracing himself against the bed. After he kicked off his pants, boxers, and socks, he was left entirely naked above her. His cock nudged insistently in the crevice of her thigh and panty-clad pussy.
Miranda wiggled as the heat of his sex sifted through the silk. She rolled her hips, his cock twitched. Under his breath, Tyler moaned as the texture of the panties stroked at his dick. He bucked his hips against her, the panties sticking to her drenched folds. She whimpered under his movements, her hands trailed up his back. Her fingertips massaged into his muscles, eliciting moans from his lips.
Tyler looped his fingers under the thin fabric of her panties. For the second time that day, a satisfying rip tore through the air. Miranda nearly moaned as the garment was literally ripped from her body.
His cock plunged into her, accompanied by Miranda's satisfying moans and groans. Her warm wetness soaked him as her pussy clenched tightly at him. Tyler slammed in and out of her while the heat inside him coiled and tightened. The only thing going through his hormone-blocked head was her – her warmth, her wetness, her pleasure. The slap of his hips against her thighs echoed through the room, accompanied by the squeak of her bed. All of those sounds were drowned out as Miranda's groans rose in decibel.
She moaned and tossed her head side to side. Her core twisted while the pressure weighed down in her. Her legs wrapped around him, making her pussy feel even tighter. His rock-hard, hot, throbbing cock filled every inch of her core.
Thoughts of his release, his hot release coating her inner walls, flashed through her head. Miranda mewled at the very thought. Her hand slid up from bed, over his sides. When her hands rounded his shoulders, her nails dug into his back. Tyler moaned into her ear, the pain seared across his back. Ecstasy bled into him from her fingers. The vibrations from his moans echoed down her body, causing a tremble to ripple down her limbs.
He drove in and out, harder, faster, deeper. He stretched her pussy, nudging the pressure to tightly envelope her core. Heat licked up and down Miranda's body. Her nerves writhed under temperature and pleasure. In her lower belly, the ache of release teetered on the edge.
Miranda twisted harshly and shivered under Tyler, unable to control herself. Her moans filled the air, making her throat ache. Her back arched and her toes curled, unable to stave off the pleasure. The closer her pleasure crept down along her core, the harder her trembling became. Miranda tossed her head side to side in an attempt to relieve her inner strain. Satisfaction crested over her and slammed down hard on her nerves. She whimpered under the force of her orgasm, her whole body convulsing powerfully.
As her thighs trembled and her pussy clenched, Tyler continued to pound in her. It took all of his self-discipline to keep going, his own pleasure like a razor against his mind. It waited to slice across his thoughts and his body.
“Ty-Tyler,” gasped Miranda, her fingers tightened against his shoulders when he didn't stop. Needles of pleasure sunk into her nerves, deeper and sharper the longer he bucked against her. Her bones felt like they were going to melt under her body heat. The pressure didn't help any either. Another round of shudders and tremors overtook her body. Her toes curled into the bed, her muscles strung taut, an incomprehensible slur of words warbled from her mouth. Her breathing became harsher, more ragged, as wave after wave of pleasure coursed across her body.
Heat fluctuated as her body was caught in a cycle of orgasm, afterglow, orgasm, afterglow. She lost count, each release different from the last. She panted and twisted beneath Tyler, clenching her eyes shut as she managed her continual delight. He nipped and kissed along her neck, his own moans of gratification hot and wet against her neck. The new sensation pounded against her senses.
“Tyler,” she gasped again, her chest heaving. Her fingers grappled at his back while her thighs trembled against his sides. Under the haze of pleasure, Miranda still desired more. She wanted Tyler to come. She wanted to feel his heat inside her, kissing the inside of her pussy. The words couldn't make it to her mouth, th
ough. She opened her eyes as he rose up. Their gazes locked. Heat and pressure flamed between them, tingling down both their spines. Hanging onto her thoughts took too much effort, beneath the roiling delight. All Miranda could manage was a single word, “Please.”
That was enough for Tyler. He knew exactly what she wanted and it shot electric heat to his groin. His body throbbed against the barrier of self-deprivation. After Miranda's second orgasm, her releases started to blend together. It was one long, fluctuating tremble punctuated by her moans.
His stomach knotted and twisted, doing everything to relieve the pressure sitting on his groin. But that single word shattered his resolve. Tension pulled across his muscles, coaxing a sharp heat from his groin.
His cock throbbed and he threw his head back with a loud moan. He filled her with liquid heat, his dick pulsing. Her pussy pulsated around him and milked every last drop from his member. Miranda gasped and writhed beneath him, her moan tipping into screams of delight. The squeak of the bed drowned out under her verbal expressions of pleasure. Her unintelligible words flared through Tyler's mind, driving his hips to grind against her.
The pressure drained away after his cock gave a final twitch. He collapsed atop her, still taking delight in her soft suppleness. Trembles and twitches still coursed down her body, but eventually died away. They laid in the bed, afterglow tingles coursing down their bodies.
Tyler grunted and heaved off Miranda, lying beside her in the bed. He hugged her tightly to his side, his fingers rubbing gentle circles along her side.
Complete contentment curtained around them. Miranda sighed as her eyelids grew heavy. Her fingers dawdle along his chest as she snuggled into his side. In her sleepy haze, she studied the dark splotches of ink on his abdomen until they blurred together. She drifted closer and closer to the edge of sleep, her eyelashes fluttering to stay awake.
He returned the sigh, the warmth of the afterglow completing his satisfaction. Ache and pains raked along his body from his tired muscles to the long red marks on his back. The hurt juxtaposed his relaxed, tingling gratification. Tyler smiled to himself, enjoying the constant reminders of Miranda as they throbbed across his body.
An insistent, irritated buzzing caught is ear. His smile dissipated. With slow, ginger movements, he disentangled himself from the sleeping Miranda. After he slid out of bed, Tyler located his pants via the glow of his cellphone. Icons piled atop one another of missed calls and received text messages. He winced, a stab of guilt and a slap of sorrow dislodging his happy afterglow.
Tyler threw his sleeping lover one glance before his eyes fell away. Quietly, he pulled on his clothes in the candlelight. After extinguishing the aromatic candles, he left Miranda alone in the dark.
CHAPTER TEN
Miranda awoke to the sound of a car door slamming outside. She stretched and groaned, the sheets whispered under her body. Her gaze flickered to the alarm clock. Faintly, she realized taking the day off had been a good call. She'd have to thank Naomi for the idea. Memories sluggishly filled her head. Pleased heat filled her core and teased at her thoughts. Desire ate into her sleepy thoughts, rousing her hormones from their slumber.
Something was off, though. Her hand slapped against the bed. All she found was cold and empty sheets. Not a lick of body heat retained in the mattress. A chill ran through her as she sat up. Her apartment still clung to sleepy morning darkness. No one else and nothing else stirred in her apartment.
Knowing it was in vain, Miranda called out. No one called back. She strained her ears, hoping to hear the shower sputtering or a ruckus in her kitchen. The apartment was morosely quiet.
Tears burned at the back of her eyes as she slid out of the bed. She tried to shake away the sadness. Tyler had simply left her apartment. That didn't mean he had left Legacy entirely, right? She swallowed heavily as she gathered her clothes. Though she tried to shake her woe off, her stomach chilled. She already knew the general answer to Tyler's whereabouts.
As she stepped into the shower, Miranda wondered where he was staying in Legacy. Maybe she should visit him one last time. She might not get another chance to formally say goodbye.
* * *
As the numbers flew upward, Tyler listened to the chunk chunk chunk of the gas pump. His gaze flickered to the horizon. Bright blue skies and a cheerful sun blaze down didn't compare to the storm swirling inside his head. He couldn't even turn his gaze to the west. He knew who stood in that direction and it hurt his chest to think of her pain. Overhead, birds chirrup cheerily, unaware of his inner turmoil.
The gas pump clanked and the numbers stuttered. Tyler sighed and shook the excess gasoline from the nozzle before pulling it from his hog. As he placed the nozzle back, he glanced at the ending number. He wrinkled his nose at the price, but it didn't matter. Jack had already gone into the station and paid for both of their pumps.
“Alright, update time.” Jack strolled across the lot, two sodas in hand. He shoved one toward Tyler's chest and continued, in his slightly clipped tone, “Lloyd covered for us, so we owe him.”
Tyler glanced up, inclining his head to Jack. “What'd he tell Pete?”
“Said we were in town, barely missed us.”
“Good guy,” grunted Tyler with a nod. It was a grudging compliment. Lloyd was the precursor to their exodus from Legacy. Part of Tyler blamed the man for yet another severance from Miranda.
Without hearty conviction, Jack added, “That he is.”
Silence strung taut between them. Ever since their mad dash out of Legacy, the air between them was strained. Tyler knew Jack was pissed, though the man hid it well enough. There were bigger things to worry about and they relied on one another. In an effort to ignore the tension in the air, Tyler asked, “Where's Pete think we're heading?”
“Las Vegas,” Jack answered crisply. He took a swig of his bottle, then added, “He doesn't know we're running from him – yet.”
“Well, he'll figure it out sooner or later.”
“For now, we gotta head east,” Jack said, pointing to the direction they had previously been heading. Along the highway, the sun glittered off the roofs of traveling cars. The weather looked great in the distance. No clouds in sight. Somehow, it seemed all wrong to Tyler. Unaware of his partner's angst, or simply unsympathetic to it, Jack went on, “Stay out of Blacksteel territory and away from affiliates.”
Tyler rolled his eyes and sighed, full of exasperation and annoyance. “I know the drill, Jack.”
“You sure?” Jack's tone came out barbed. Tyler readied himself for a just reaming. Jack stepped closer, jabbing his partner with an index finger. “Cause you sure took your sweet ass time getting out of Legacy.”
He didn't answer. His gaze crawled up Jack's finger, his arm, to his face. In the sunglasses Jack wore Tyler caught his reflection: angry, scowling, taut and tense, but eyes unseen behind his own set of specs. His mind swarmed with sour thoughts and bittersweet notions. Nasty words balanced on the tip of his tongue.
Jack seemed to ease under Tyler's leer. He ran a hand through his hair. “Hey, is she really worth the risk, Ty?”
Tyler swallowed his snarl. Miranda meant more than his bodily health and his life. But he couldn't risk her getting caught up in his drama. That's why the needle of guilt punctuated far into his heart, down to his very marrow. Frustrated with himself and irritated with Jack he turned sharply to his hog. Tyler swung his leg over his motorcycle and turned the key. Over the roar of his chopper, muttered, “Let's go, Jack.”
He didn't bother waiting for Jack to jog to his own bike. Tyler revved his engine and rumbled out of the gas station parking lot. The sooner he got Legacy and Miranda behind him, the better his situation and mood would get. And Miranda would be safe.
* * *
Her knuckles rapped on the motel room door of 16A, yet again. After getting the motel and room number from Naomi, Miranda had made a beeline for the Sunny Ridge Motel. The weather seemed to mock her, with a cloudless blue sky and warm, happy sunlight. S
he could only feel bothered, stuffy, and sweaty.
Again, her knuckles knocked against the door. Her ears ached to hear anything on the other side. The shift of clothes being put back on, the nervous whispers of a woman in bed, obscenities falling from a husky, gravely throat. Nothing greeted her auditory senses.
A voice broke her silent despair. “They left.”
“Wh-what?” Miranda turned and realized a housekeeper had rolled up behind her.
The other woman offered her a pitying smile. A sudden flare of embarrassment crossed Miranda's face. How many desperate women did this housekeeper come across? And now she was part of the thousands of nameless, wretched masses. The housekeeper answered, with her soft tone, “The men who were renting that room, they left.”
“When?” Miranda mentally winced. She was playing the part of disposable lover to a tee. Perhaps that all she really was, though. The thought sent a new wave of angst through her thoughts.
“Last night. Real late, too.”
“Oh, thank you,” she murmured. Using her mortification to propel herself, Miranda headed for her car with her head bowed. Tears bit at the back of her eyes as inexplicable sadness swelled in her thoughts. Well, that wasn't entirely true. She knew exactly why she was sad. He had left. Again. This time, he didn't even bother to warn her.