"No, not yet." I felt the car turn. I played with his softening cock, licking it and kissing it sensually while I waited. A few minutes later he said, "OK, all clear now."
I got up, looked out the window and saw we were in a rural area, high up on a hill. I wiped my lips with the back of my arm and took a sip of that water he'd offered.
I remembered his text. Wildlife?
"We're here," he said.
There was no one around, only a view of houses and the roaring highway far down below. A few trees and shrubs surrounded us.
Nathan went to the trunk of his car, opened it up, pulled out a fleece blanket.
"This way," he said.
I followed, wind slamming my hair.
Not long after, we were behind a tree. A tree wide enough to hide my body but not all of his, he was too wide. "Strip," he said.
A momentary pang of nerves hit me, an uneasy fear that I fought away because I knew by now that, with Nathan, I was always safe. He liked his games...
I took off my skirt, my tee, my stockings. I had on no bra because I never wore one (tits too small to merit it.)
Then I took my panties off, my hand instinctively moving to over my crotch out of instinct. I was bare, naked, exposed. Cool wind whipped me and goose-pimples broke out all over my skin.
Nathan unzipped his slacks. He was hard again, huge, ready and throbbing.
He took the fleecy blanket and wrapped it around me, then pushed me against the tree, his hands in between me and it so as to cushion me. He touched my slit with his fingers. I was wet as hell by now, ready as ever.
And then he speared me...
I gasped loud and bit my lip, too afraid someone might hear us if I screamed.
"Scream as loud as you want," he said as he thrust into me, forcing another deep exhalation of pleasure from my lungs. "No one will hear us here."
He thrust again, deep, pulled out slowly. Then thrust again, pushing, turning and twisting a little to make my legs quiver and shake with ardent need. I clutched his shirt, looked down at his cock impaling me. He pulled it out and...thrust!
"Oh, fuck!" I cried.
"Yes, baby, scream it. Scream it loud." He slammed into me again.
"Oh, god!"
It was pure heaven, every jab making me forget about the day's events even more.
He slammed, almost lifting me. I bit into his shirt, pulled at it. He was massive inside me, filling me completely, and firing up my skin with electric energy.
I thought once more of Clayton, vaguely, of that emptiness inside me, of how I needed it filled and how I needed to forget. I buried my forehead on Nathan's shoulder. "Now it's your turn to do me hard and fast," I said, teeth clenched, anger at the day's events and about my life seeping through in my words.
Nathan didn't wait. He rocked his pelvis and pumped me in a blur of speed. My howls and outcries of satisfaction didn't stop until I finally came and screamed and yowled so far and wide that I heard it echo in the trees, the pleasure repeating in me as the reverberated sounds fired back against my eardrums. When he came, his own roars echoed back at us like savage beasts.
In the end, he rocked slowly, easily, in and out, gently. I held his big shoulders and kissed his neck. After minutes which felt like hours, he softened, and pulled himself out. With the edge of the blanket, he cleaned me between my legs.
"I really needed you today," he said. "I'm so glad you texted. But, Layla, no more threats. I cannot bear it. If you'd like to see me, just say it. School or no school. I'm yours. No more threats, OK?"
"Good," I said, "I like it that way." But I didn't tell him I'd also needed him back, even though I had. Unfortunately, I felt like my need for him was different than his for me. I became afraid for Nathan, afraid of how much I might mean to him.
I held him, hearing only the ruffling leaves above and the rubbing wings of restless crickets.
"Let's go home," he said.
Only, when we got 'home,' it was his home. And just like that, I moved in, and started living with Nathan. Fucking every night, every morning, often in the middle of the day. Every time I saw Clayton with his sugar-mommy, I fucked Nathan.
Beyond knowing he was an ex-alcoholic from Texas, I learned little more about him. Nathan didn't so much as not answer me as he simply avoided providing much details. But I also wasn't too interested in asking. Subconsciously, I fought against all efforts of us getting to know each other on a deeper level. The feeling was clearly mutual.
Although I might not have loved him, I felt for him. Felt deeply for him. So when he finally told me he needed to go back to the states, I panicked.
"Layla, I want us to continue our agreement. I'll be gone a month. But I'll see no one else. Can you wait that long?"
A month with no physical comfort, no one to hold me and make me feel wanted, safe, secure. A month of empty days and nights...
A month!
I tried to convince myself that I'd last that long. "Sure," I said, chewing on an apple in his lounge. "A month is not long."
We stared at each other for a long moment. Finally I looked away, at his mirror above the mantelpiece, still chewing.
Nathan got up and packed a bag. When he came out he said, "My flight leaves tonight."
We fucked again before he left, warm and comfortable.
When his front door clicked shut, I cried like I'd never cried before. Only problem was, I wasn't sure if I was crying for Nathan, or for someone else.
-13-
For days I was adrift. Nathan kept up the texts in the beginning, but not much. And, who was I kidding? This was a physical-only 'relationship,' wasn't it? It began to cross my mind that there was no such thing. That relationships were either all in, or nothing at all.
As much as I needed his carnal comforts, it began dawning on me, day after day, without the intoxicating waft of his pheromones to confuse me, that maybe being with him was harming me more than helping me. That maybe I just needed to face my fears, jump in head first into that thing that terrified me most: Love, closeness, a 'real' relationship.
It felt like I was wading through a ten-mile-wide maelstrom in the middle of the Atlantic. Classes went by in a whir, people's voices sounded like a haze most of every day. Dark blue bags formed under my eyes from lack of sleep. Mandi kept trying to get me to talk to her about it but all I could do was think about the lack of Nathan's company. I slowly realized that it was merely his touch, the feeling of his body in mine, that I craved, not his heart...
It dawned on me how meaningless my 'relationship' with him actually was. Because, as much as he could physically fill me, I was always a little empty. That empty cavern in the heart, as they say. Cliché as a mofo, and real as the pain I was actually feeling.
Such a relationship could not be good for me, could not be good for either of us. So, I invoked rule four. You can leave whenever you want.
I thought it only decent to call instead of text.
Late at night from my room, drowning in a pool of my own insecure tears, I called him. He picked up straight away.
"Hello, baby," he rumbled.
"Nathan..." I sobbed.
He waited.
"Nathan, I'm... I'm sorry... I..." I cried some more. The phone trembled in my fingers. I missed him so much. And I knew he probably missed me, too.
But I also knew this had no future.
I tried my damnedest to speak, but I couldn't. He stayed quiet, as if knowing this would happen all along.
An eternity later, I managed to get out the words: "Rule four. Rule...four, Nathan. Rule four."
I sobbed, gasped.
"I understand, Layla. Thank you for calling."
He clicked off the phone.
My world spun. Jaws-of-Life ripped my chest apart. Elephants stood on me and laughed, kicking me in the teeth while clowns smiled down at my human flaws.
That I cried goes without question. Crying was fine, cathartic. The worst was when I stopped crying, two days later. When I became t
he walking dead, not eating, not sleeping, a wreck like no other.
A week after that I sat on the steps outside the college quad, looking out into the busy street. Wind tickled its cruel fingers across my neck. A couple snuggled and nuzzled in front of me, laughing words of love and joy at each other. I stared at the floor by my feet.
Out of nowhere, Clayton appeared.
He sat next to me. One minute I'd been alone, the next he was there. He put his hand on my bare knee. Without thinking, I put mine above his. He rubbed side to side, just a friendly hello.
I clutched his fingers, still looking down. Tears stung my eyes. Tears that had refused to escape me for over a week. Because he'd been the real reason for my tears. The guy who'd made my mind whirl with confused emotions. The one who'd opened up a geyser of feelings that I'd kept locked in me ever since my father had died and my mother had ruined her life.
One tear fell to the ground, an inch from my black Mary Janes. My lower lip trembled.
"How you doing?" he asked.
I sobbed in a breath, but he didn't comment on my lack of composure. "I'm doing fucking great. You?"
"Been better."
"How's sugar-mommy?"
"Out of town."
My lips stopped trembling. My lungs filled with precious air.
I looked up at the empty street...
Then I grabbed him by the lapels. And I kissed him.
THE END OF BOOK TWO...
(See next section for further release info.)
BOOK THREE
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Let's do it again in Book Three, shall we?
Love,
R
Also by Rachel Dunning
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Girl-Nerds Like it Faster (Erotic Romance) Book 2 (Girl-Nerd Series) Page 6