by K. L. Savage
I know that voice. It’s One.
“Thanks. I owe you.”
“Don’t be gone too long. We need you here.”
“Just a few days, One.” Whistler sets me to my feet.
One goes back inside the bar and Whistler cups my face, the onyx irises blending with the night. “You’re going to have to hold on tight, okay? It’s a six-hour trip. So no falling asleep.”
I nod and before he slides my helmet on, he turns his head and bends down to kiss my cheek. But I do something unexpected and unlike me.
Tilting my head, I press my lips against his so quick it’s almost as if it didn’t happen. Tingles spread across my mouth, and my heart races. I rushed it. I know I did. He’s so respectful all the time because of me and what I’ve gone through, but I want to take control of one thing in my life for once.
I might not have shoved my tongue down his throat, but I have showed him how I feel. I’ve placed a seed.
He growls, his top lip curling as he slowly creeps closer to me wanting more. Right when I think he is going to kiss me, he puts my helmet on instead, clipping it under my chin.
I’m disappointed and it must show on my face.
“I want those lips more than anything, but I won’t rush you. I didn’t expect the sweet treat you just gave me, but we have six hours and the open road for you to think Cupcake. No pressure. Okay? None at all. My main concern is you.”
“And I love that.”
“Make sure it’s not the only thing you love, okay?”
I frown. I don’t like what he is implying. Does he think I only want him because he is one of the few men that has been nice to me for the first time in years? I can see how it looks, but I’m smart enough to know better. I could kiss anyone I wanted that showed me decency, but Whistler is so much more than that.
I don’t go around kissing people that make me feel something other than self-loathing. Hell, I didn’t even kiss Kenneth the last two years we were married, or whatever we were. He didn’t want to, and I wasn’t going to beg for something I didn’t want.
“Come on.” He mounts his bike and pats the back of the seat. “Chase the sun with me, Cupcake.”
Pushing back my disappointment I climb up behind him. The leather seat digs between my legs, and it takes me a minute to get comfortable since I’ve never been on a bike before. My hands are pressed against the middle of his back because I don’t know what else to do with them.
“Here,” he says, wrapping my hands around his waist.
My fingers are spread across his stomach and his abs flex under my touch. I can count the defined ridges as I trace along them.
“How the hell am I going to be able to focus with your hands on me?”
I smile, knowing he can’t see me. The bike comes to life, vibrating between my legs with so much intensity a yelp escapes me when it does more than I expect it to.
The vibrations feel…good.
Real good.
He groans. “I’m so fucking screwed with you reacting that way.” The gravel crunches under the tires as we reverse and he flips the headlight on so we can see in front of us. The chrome of other bikes reflects and it’s intimidating to see them all at once. “Lean when I lean, don’t fight it.”
I can’t see where we are going since I can’t see over his shoulder. He’s too big. Well, not too big in a bad way. He’s big in the way that lets me know I don’t need to worry about a thing. I can imagine myself cuddling him at night, his arms tucking me close. His chest would be the only pillow I’d ever need, and his body will be the heat I’d live on for the rest of my life.
No blanket needed when I have Whistler.
I don’t know what road we take, and I can’t tell what turns he makes, but I lean when I need to lean and watch the desert pass us by on the left. The moon shines bright and full, casting a glow onto the endless sand and scrub. The stars hug the night and I’m hypnotized by how many there are; it’s like we are riding the road to space with how dark it is and with how vivid the constellations twinkle.
I never want to get off this bike. I hope Whistler takes us far away where Kenneth can never find me. The wind is in my hair, my shirt blowing out and riding up my back. Even though it’s warm out, zipping down the road is causing a breeze, and my skin pebbles in reaction.
Wherever we are going, I know it’s temporary, but I want it to be forever.
This moment with Whistler is the best moment of my life and I never want it to end. I hold him closer, suddenly worried that this feeling is fleeting, temporary, just like the place we are going to. I’m trusting him when I never thought I’d trust anyone again. I thought it would be difficult and I’d rebel, but trusting Whistler is as easy as knowing what color the sky is or knowing that I need water to survive.
He’s the peace to all my pieces.
The road to somewhere goes on for hours and the sun finally begins to creep up over the edge of the world. Faint colors of orange begin to illuminate and blend with the night, day threatening to break free. It is only a matter of time before the sun is hot and bearing down on us.
My eyes close, not to sleep, but just to enjoy the feel of freedom.
There’s nothing like this, not even love or lust can compare to the vulnerability of the open road. One wrong move means death and while I’ve toed the line before, the possibility of death has never been so beautiful.
“Cupcake, what did I say about falling asleep?” his voice cuts through the high I’m experiencing. My bones and muscles are loose and I’m riding the edge of exhaustion, yet I don’t want to sleep.
An odd combination.
The bike slows down and eventually comes to a stop.
“We are here.”
Wherever here is sure is warm. It smells so good too and there is a static in the distance.
Whistler parks the motorcycle and then the solid structure of his body in front of me is gone, causing me to pitch forward. He chuckles as he catches me and helps me off. My legs shake from being on a bike so long and I keep my eyes closed as I stretch.
He unclips the helmet and the dark visor disappears. “Open those beautiful eyes and see where we are.”
I do as he says and gasp, holding a hand over my mouth as I languidly walk forward. Tears prickle my eyes when I see the dark blue ocean crashing against the shore.
He brought me to the ocean.
Whistler has made my California dream come true.
“This can’t be real.”
“It is Cupcake. I rented us a motel room on the beach too so the only thing we have to do is walk outside and park our asses in the sand. I wanted to bring you here first so I can watch you experience something for the first time. And I wanted to see your auburn hair in the California sun.” He shrugs a shoulder and twists a strand of my knotted hair around his finger. “I’m not disappointed.”
I giggle in disbelief. Kicking my shoes off, I laugh again and sprint toward the water. My toes sink into the soft sand, and I don’t hesitate to jump into the ocean, clothes and all.
It’s everything I’ve always wanted.
The water is warm and salty, calm with a small set of waves that hardly disrupt me. Seashells poke my toes and I bend down to grab a handful of wet sand from the bottom.
I want to build a sandcastle.
“How’s the water?” Whistler calls out to me from the shore.
He is dressed in black, and his leather cut reflects the sun. He must be burning up.
I dip my head underwater and swim to the shore. When I get my feet under me, I have to hold up the soaked sweatpants to keep them from falling.
“I didn’t think anything could be brighter than the sun, but your smile right now sure is giving it a run for its money.” He snaps a picture on his phone.
Sand sticks to me everywhere as I run to him. He tucks his phone in his pocket and I don’t give him time to think about what’s right. I slam against him and press my lips to his, long and hard, desperate and needy. The kiss is we
t from the sea and the salt is hidden behind the wild taste of Whistler.
I’m drenching the front of his clothes, but he doesn’t care. He holds onto me tight and owns the kiss, flicking his tongue across my bottom lip while guiding my head in the direction he wants me to go in by cupping my jaw.
He kisses me wildly without rhythm, turning his head every few seconds to get more from the kiss. His lips are softer than what I imagined them to be, and his scruff rubs against the skin around my mouth, leaving behind an extra burn.
I never thought my dreams would come true, but then Whistler happened.
Proving people wrong has to be one of his specialties.
Regret doesn’t exist in dreams and that’s the last thing I feel with him. The beach is just a place, but the dream is Whistler.
Everything I knew, everything I thought I wanted for myself has changed in the blink of an eye.
Her lips are what second chances feel like. She’s kissing me with eagerness, her lips soft and pliant as she allows me to take control, something I never thought would happen given the circumstances.
It goes to show I can never assume to know someone’s healing process. Just because I have the privilege of tasting her kiss doesn’t mean another man would and I have a feeling that is exactly the case. I’ve seen her react around others and with me, she’s different.
I don’t know why she picked me, but I’ll always give her a reason to keep choosing me.
Skimming my hand up her spine, I cup the back of her head and apply more pressure, diving my tongue deeper into her tentative mouth. She gasps, her kiss stopping for a moment while I explore her depths. I growl when I taste how sweet she is, and I grin to myself.
I knew she was a cupcake.
My cock presses against my jeans, which are now wet from her clothes, and I know she can feel me. She doesn’t rub against me, and I don’t rock against her. I doubt that’s something she’s ready for, and I’m willing to wait.
I’d wait forever for her, no doubt about it.
Her hair is wet, and I slip my fingers through the strands. Bits of sand fall into my hand and the ends of her hair tickle along my forearm.
I slow the kiss, bringing it to a slow stop which has her whimpering in disagreement and curling her fingers against my stomach. Exhaling, I lean my forehead against hers and hold her, crossing my arms at the wrist behind her back, and swaying while the waves crash against the shore.
“Thank you,” she whispers so softly I barely hear it.
I brush my cheek against the top of her head and stare at the ocean. “For what?”
“Doing this. Going out of your way for me. Letting me experience something good.” She uses my stomach to push away, and I tilt my chin down to look at her. She’s fucking out of this world beautiful. All she wants is love. It shines from her.
And while those cornflower blue eyes have my heart enlarging with every beat, filling with how I feel for her, I’m going to make damn sure I give her what she wants.
“You don’t ever have to thank me for doing something that makes you happy. Plus, I think that kiss is thanks enough.” I tap the end of her nose and she smiles.
“I should have asked, I’m sorry. I was so happy and I've never felt so—”
I grip her chin and bend down, pressing a soft peck on her lips one more time. “You don’t ever have to ask to kiss me, Cupcake. Your kisses are something I’ve wanted since the moment I saw you.”
“Really? Why me? I’m nobody,” she scoffs, the wind changing direction and causing her hair to blow in her face.
“I know that’s what he made you believe, but to me, you’re somebody, Charlie. You’re my somebody. And I don’t care how long it takes to drain the poison he’s put in your mind; I’m going to show you that it’s you that has always been the somebody, while he has been the nobody. Understand?”
She nods, but I can see the doubt reflecting in her irises.
All good things take time and she’s a good thing.
“You’re shivering. Come on, let’s get to the hotel and get you in some dry clothes.”
“I don’t have any other clothes.” Her teeth clink together, and I rub my hands up and down her arms to warm her.
I groan when I think of us warming up the natural way, naked body against naked body. We wouldn’t have to do a damn thing, but I could hold her and fall asleep with her bare back against the front of my chest.
“We better do some shopping first. We need to get you a swimsuit too.”
“Can we get coffee?” she asks, her eyes heavy with sleep.
“Can we get coffee,” I scoff, pressing my hand against her lower back to guide her to the bike. “Of course we can. A Hellhound needs his fix.”
She chuckles and the way the morning sun is hitting her cheek, I’m able to see grains of sand. I reach my hand toward her face, and she flinches, an action that breaks my heart every time I see it. Like every time, I show her I’m not going to hurt her. I brush the sand from her face and her shoulders sag in relief when she realizes she isn’t going to be hit.
One day, I’ll be able to touch her face without her flinching and that will be a day that makes history.
I clutch onto her hips, noticing how wide and thick they are, and I rumble in approval, a hundred different scenarios run through my mind of all the ways I can pleasure her body. My cock presses against my zipper and precome beads at the slit and pools into the material. I can feel the trickle and the tingle of desire.
Lifting her easily, I place her on the seat and squeeze into my spot in front of her. When I hear the click of her helmet, that’s when I put mine on. Her arms circle around me, and I caress her arm with my fingers one last time before I jet out of the parking lot and onto the road.
I pass the flamingo pink motel we are staying in on the left, right on the water as I promised, and a ping of guilt hits me. I should have sprung for something nicer. This motel doesn’t seem like the nicest around and she deserves that.
The first surf shop I see isn’t far from the motel, so I pull into their parking lot and notice they are a store that has everything. Clothes, food, gas, and whatever else.
“What’s my allowance?” she questions, hopping off the bike.
“Allowance?”
“Yeah, like what am I allowed to spend?”
Damn, that fucker gave her an allowance? I can’t wait to get my hands on him.
“No allowance, Cupcake. You get what you want. I have the cash. Don’t you worry about a thing.”
She gives me a skeptical expression, a brow lifted in uncertainty as if she wants to believe me but has her doubts.
“Come on.” I hold out my hand to her and drag her to the front entrance. It’s a nice place for being on the beach with all the foot traffic it gets. The outside has huge, tinted windows with yellow and red ‘sale’ signs out front with boogie boards, noodles, skim boards, and floats. There’s a heavy trail of sand from the parking lot to the entrance where people have come in from the beach.
I point at one of the signs. “Look, Cupcake. Buy one get one bikinis. You’re going to get all of them, right? Model them for me?” I wink and her pale cheeks fire to a bright red, which has her freckles turning a shade darker too.
“I can get a few swimsuits?”
God, I hate how timid she seems right now, as if I’m about to pull the rug out from under her.
When we get inside the store, she shivers again from the air conditioning, and I drag her into the nearest aisle where the beach magnets with everyone’s name are. “I’m not lying when I say I want you to get whatever you want. There are no strings here. No false promises. No anger. No resentment. There’s just me and you. We’re going to enjoy the beach and you’re going to get whatever you want and I’m going to sit back and watch you be happy, okay?”
She nods, but I need to hear words. I lift her chin like I always do so she meets my eyes.
“Words, Cupcake.”
“Okay, Whistler. I’ll trus
t you.”
My smile makes her grin, and I bop the tip of her nose, something I’ve never done to a woman before, but with her, I seem to do it all the time. “Come on, then. The sooner we get out of here, the sooner we can catch a quick nap and hit the beach when the sun is at its highest.”
She squeals and runs off. I swear I hear the cartoon noise from the roadrunner she hurries from me so quickly.
While she shops, I hang back and give her some space. I don’t want her to feel like I’m hovering, but I do stay close enough where I can see her. I chuckle when I see she already has a huge pile in her hands and the sales representative comes and must offer her a dressing room because Charlie hands over all her items before cruising through another rack.
I’m simple. I grab a few plain shirts and even get a little fancy one that says “California” along the chest. I add two swimsuits to my pile, both black. I’ll save all the color for my Cupcake over there who is buying the entire rainbow.
I pass the section that has towels and grab a tie-dye one I know she’ll like, a black one for me, a purple one for her, and a green towel for me. That’s enough. If we need more, I’ll come back and buy some.
Charlie has another mound of clothes in her arms, and I wonder if she’s testing me to see if I’ll get upset with everything she’s picked. I really don’t care. I want her to have everything. Half of her face is visible as she peeks up at me through those long lashes.
“Hey there, Cupcake. Finding everything you need?”
“Maybe. I need your opinion on some things. Will you wait outside the fitting room?” She fumbles with the clothes in her hands and half of them drop onto the floor.
“Yeah, Cupcake. I’d love to have my own private show. Thanks for asking.” I blow her a kiss and bend down to gather the dresses and swimsuits.
Oh.
Fuck.
Me.
I lift up the tiny shred of material. It’s a one-piece, I think. I’m not sure since there isn’t a lot of material to it. It has a deep V that cuts into the middle of the swimsuit and the back…
I growl when I see the skinny thong that will ease between her plump cheeks. I bet this is a test. She’s never been able to wear what she wants. Men can look all they want at what is mine, but if they touch her, well, all bets are off.