by K. L. Savage
“Shit! Woman! Damn it, be easy with her.”
I squeal as I hop off the bike and run into the ditch, picking up the wet, cold fluffball.
“Oh no,” Whistler grumbles.
“Can we keep him?”
“Like I could ever tell you no,” he says, and I give him a big kiss on the cheek. “What will you name him?”
“What about Sprinkles? Sprinkles and Cupcakes go together.”
Whistler’s face softens and he scratches the puppy under his chin. “Yeah. Yeah, they do, Cupcake. Come on. I’ll hold him. Let’s go home and get Sprinkles warm.”
Whistler is more than my home.
He’s my sanctuary. My haven.
And as long as I have him to go home to, I’ll fight just like he swings.
Hard. Unforgiving. And relentless.
One month later
“Welcome to The Pink Penguin Motel where all the quacks stay,” Brayden automatically says when he hears the bell jingle. “My name is Brayden and I’ll be happy to be at your surf−ice.” The snicker he does at the end every time he says that makes me smile.
The man hasn’t changed since the last time we saw him.
“Hey, Brayden. I have a reservation under—”
Brayden’s bloodshot eyes look away from the TV. Baywatch is on. “Whistler. Bro! Oh, and bro−ette.” He bows to Charlie, making her giggle. “Right on. You’re back. You can’t resist the pull of The Pink Penguin, right? It’s rad.”
“It’s…so rad, Brayden,” I say, glancing over to see Charlie smiling.
Brayden flips his long hair over his shoulder. “Dude, I’ve been working on my whistle. You ready for it?”
Oh, God. I don’t know how many times I’ve heard this from other people when they learn about my road name. I lean against the counter, folding my hands together. “Let me hear,” I say.
He puckers his lips, then flicks his cheek with his fingers making the sound of a water droplet.
“It’s cool, right?”
“That’s not a whistle, Brayden.” I show him how it’s done, whistling with my lips, not my bat.
Brayden snorts as he laughs. “I’m so fucking high, man. I’ve been practicing that whistle for three hours knowing you were coming.”
I grin. “I appreciate your efforts, but maybe don’t tell the guests you’re high,” I lean in and whisper.
“Right. Good idea.” He reaches for the key that says 3A and hands it over. “Oh, you’re looking at the proud new owner of The Pink Penguin Motel.” Brayden straights his nametag and under his name it says, ‘CEO, Owner, and Surf−ice giver.’
“Well, congratulations, Brayden. I had no idea you owned this place.”
“Yeah, yeah, I love it. Plus, the waves are wicked over here for surfing. Needed to make something of myself, ya know? Became a businessman.”
He sounds so proud, and he should be.
“Hey, businessman to businessman.” I gesture to him to come closer, and he looks left and right making sure no one is around before meeting me halfway. “You want to sell room 3A to me? It would be mine and Charlie’s, so we get to do what we want to it. We like it here and we would like to buy it.”
“No kidding?”
“No kidding.”
“Well man, yeah. I don’t see why that can’t happen. I’d love to have you guys as residents. I’ll draw up a contract and give you some numbers—”
I pull out one−hundred thousand dollars in cash and set it on the table. “That ought to cover one room, right?”
“Holy shit, Mr. Whistler. Fuck yeah. Enjoy your stay. Room service is included with your purchase as is cleaning. If you need anything, let me know.”
“Thanks, Brayden. I appreciate it.” It’s our third time to the beach and Charlie is the happiest when she is here, which is why I decided to buy the room where everything began for us.
We can come now whenever we want. She can even bring friends, like my sister. She’s doing better. We held a funeral for her boyfriend and while she’s sad, she’s getting better day by day and she hasn’t touched any drugs yet. I think what happened to her opened her eyes, which is what I had been trying to do so she didn’t get hurt, but sometimes people have to feel pain in order to learn.
Which really fucking sucks because it’s the last thing I wanted for her.
Charlie snatches the key and runs to the room, not even waving bye to Brayden. I walk outside to get our bags out of the truck, something I bought recently because my bike is in the shop. It’s always good to have a truck anyway.
Everything we have brought down here, we are keeping here, and we are also staying a few weeks and remodeling the room the way we want.
It’s ours.
She’s mine.
When she opens the door, she strips off her dress and beckons me to the bed.
“Charlie,” I grumble. This is a pleasant surprise. She runs her hands down her body.
“I want you.” She charges at me and slams me against the door, fumbling with my pants, until her hand frees my cock.
I moan, “Cupcake.”
“Please, I’ve wanted you for hours. And now this place is ours and I can’t think of anything else I want more than to have sex on every surface.”
I slam her against the wall and wrap her legs around me. “You want to be fucked, baby?”
She nods, grinding her wet pussy against my cock.
“I’m going to fuck you right here where anyone walking by will be able to hear you.” In one hard thrust, I fill her, and she cries out, moaning as I dive into her heat. “So fucking wet, Cupcake.”
“I want you so much. I need you.”
I give her what she needs. I fuck her hard against the door until it shakes. I wasn’t expecting to fuck her as soon as we got into the room since we had sex before we left Nevada, but if my woman wants it, I’ll be damned if I ever deny her.
“Oh god, Whistler. I’m so close.”
Damn, a new record. She has a quick trigger today.
My balls pull tight as she hits the wall with her fist, stretching her neck back, and shouting my name while she comes, massaging me in her tight grip.
“Fuck, Charlie. Oh, fuck,” I tense as I spill inside her, coming for the second time today. It isn’t as much, but it’s enough to trickle out of her.
“Mmm,” she moans, rocking against me again. “Yes. More. I want more.”
“Greedy girl,” I growl, but hold onto her by her ass and take her to the bed where I can love on her properly.
She’s grown so much since we’ve been together, and she trusts me in bed. She allows my touch. I lay her down gently, my cock still hard as it slips out of her. “You want more, Charlie?”
She bites her lip, nodding.
“Show me,” I challenge, watching her get on her hands and knees, running her tongue along my cock, tasting herself. She even agrees she tastes sweet.
She pulls away as I skim a finger down her face and my heart thumps in wild happiness when I notice the most important thing in my entire life: Charlie doesn’t flinch.
And damn it, if that doesn’t feel better than any bat I’ve ever swung.
ZOMBIE BY: THE CRANBERRIES
FACE DOWN BY: THE RED JUMPSUIT APPARATUS
BREATH BY: BREAKAING BENJAMIN
SO COLD BY: BREAKING BENJAMIN
BAD BITCH BY: BEBE REXHA, TY DOLLAA $IGN
SOMETHIN’ BAD BY: MIRANDA LAMBERT, CARRIE UNDERWOOD
BEFORE HE CHEATS BY: CARRIE UNDERWOOD
SHAPE OF YOU BY: ED SHEERAN
FIGHTER BY: CHRISTINAA AGUILERA
THE FIGHTER BY: IN THIS MOMENT
FAMILIAR TASTE OF POSION BY: HALESTORM
To our Ruthless Readers this world wouldn't have happened if it weren't for you. You made this grow, gave us inspiration, and now this universe exists. We can't ever thank you enough for reading and becoming ruthless with us. We love you.
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bloggers and reviewed and shared Whistler you rock, thank you for your support.
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