Life to My Flight

by Lani Lynn Vale

Multiple times.

  Chapter 9

  Forget breakfast in bed. Being fucked awake beats pancakes any day.

  -Rule’s to live by

  Rue

  I opened my eyes to the bright sun shining into the non-curtained windows.

  The room was unfamiliar, but I knew exactly where I was at.

  Cleo’s.

  I looked down at my body.

  I was twined with the hunter green sheets of his bed.

  The bottom corner of the fitted sheet was around my right foot, and the comforter that’d been covering it when we’d first arrived last night, was in a bundled up wad on the floor.

  The sight made me laugh.

  Immediately, the sound of footsteps came up the hallway, emitting the tall handsome man that had rocked my world last night...no less than ten times.

  I was so drained, but I’d never felt better.

  “You wanna go run with me?” He asked as he watched me stretch lazily on the bed.

  He was wearing black nylon running shorts and a pair of athletic shoes.

  He looked fantastic.

  All tanned, rippled flesh stretched tight over a set of abs that could easily be counted as a six pack.

  His shorts hung low on his hips allowing the V leading down to his crotch to be fully exposed.

  I shifted restlessly in the bed, rubbing my thighs together unconsciously.

  The sheet slipped down until my nipple popped free, and he zeroed in on it.

  “I don’t have any clothes,” I said.

  Really, I didn’t want to go run. I felt too relaxed.

  We used to run all the time together.

  I’d do my best to keep up with him, and he’d run about five times slower than he’d normally go to keep me in his sight.

  I hadn’t ran in nearly three weeks, and then three weeks before that.

  “My sister left some clothes here,” he said.

  I could hear the excitement in his voice.

  He really wanted me to go, and I knew he enjoyed it when I used to run with him.

  “Which sister?” I asked worriedly.

  “Molly,” he answered immediately before leaving the room and coming back a few minutes later with a pair of black lycra shorts and a racer back tank.

  “Will it cover my vagina?” I asked suspiciously.

  He laughed and tossed them at me.

  “Try it on and find out,” he taunted.

  “I don’t have any panties,” I tried again.

  He went to his closet, pulled out an army green sack, and dug down to the very bottom, his whole arm disappearing inside.

  His hand reappeared again, clutching something black lace.

  I looked at them suspiciously. “Are those my panties?”

  I’d been missing that particular pair for nearly a year now.

  “Yep,” he agreed before tossing them to me.

  I caught them with a clench of my fist and held them up for inspection. “They smell clean. They’re washed...right?” I asked.

  He nodded. “I washed them when I put them away. They got some sand in them,” he explained.

  “Sand?” I asked, confused.

  He nodded. “They went across the world with me. They were in my pocket for nearly a year.”

  My mouth dropped open. “What?”

  It came out sounding quite shrill, but what the fuck?

  He cracked a smile. “Gave me good luck.”

  I rolled my eyes and stood from the bed, disentangling my feet from the sheet as I walked to the bathroom with the pile of clothes.

  “I’ll need my bra,” I informed him as I walked into the bathroom.

  Finishing my business and using my finger to brush my teeth, I inspected his bathroom in awe.

  The whole thing was white.

  White walls. White ceiling. White floor. White frosted glass covering a walk in shower. It looked awesome; similar to my kitchen, as a matter of fact…only ten times better.

  “Here,” Cleo rumbled from behind me.

  I bent down in front of him, giving him a good show as I slipped my feet into the thong, followed shortly by the shorts.

  I was right. They barely covered my cooch.

  “This is a bad idea,” I said as I turned and held out my hand for the bra dangling from his fingers.

  Instead of handing it to me, he walked behind me, looped the bra around my belly, and hooked it in the back.

  The thin nylon of his shorts was doing a piss poor job at keeping his dick confined, but I wasn’t complaining.

  My bra was one of those supportive, sports bra ones.

  Last night was supposed to have been just a quick drink with friends.

  If I’d known I was going to get fucked, thoroughly, I would’ve worn my good lingerie.

  Once the bra was clipped, he raised it up until it was resting underneath my breasts.

  He accidentally grazed my nipples with his hands as he pulled the cups up over my boobs, and I barely stifled a groan.

  Must stop thinking about Cleo’s dick. I scolded myself.

  I slipped my hands into the loops, and then rearranged my breasts for comfort instead of sex appeal.

  “Shame,” he said as he stepped away.

  Leaning towards the sink, I grabbed the tank off the counter, slipped it over my head, and grimaced at how tight it was.

  “Jesus,” I said as I inspected myself in the mirror.

  I looked like an Oompa Loompa.

  “What?” He asked as his eyes centered on my fat ass.

  “I look like a whale,” I said.

  He looked up and caught my eyes before prowling forward and bringing my body back against his with a hand at my belly.

  His rock hard cock dug into the small of my back and I froze.

  “You’re not a whale. You look so fucking sexy that I’m contemplating my morning run, substituting it with fucking your ass into the floor.”

  “Sounds painful,” I rasped.

  He grinned, his dark eyes lowering until all I could see was the slit of his iris under the dark slash of his lashes.

  “It could be. But it’d also feel fucking awesome at the same time,” he admonished.

  I snorted. “Let’s go. All your dirty talking is making me need a shower.”

  He grinned and then grabbed my hand. “Sir, yes, sir.”

  I smacked his ass, urging him forward. “Any day now, soldier.”

  “I’m a PJ, darlin’. Not a soldier,” he informed me haughtily.

  I snorted.

  Touchy, touchy.

  We walked out into the cool morning air, down the front walk, and to the street where we both stretched.

  I’ll admit I put a little extra bend in my stretch, making sure he could see how flexible I was, just to give his mind a little tease on what was to come.

  “You ready?” I asked after he stopped stretching and just stared.

  He blinked and then nodded. “10-4.”

  The run started out slow, but quickly picked up pace as I tried my damndest to keep up with him.

  The only thing that kept me going so long was watching the play of his muscles as he took one long stride after another.

  Today he’d get about a hundred yards in front of me, and then turn back around until he reached me. Immediately followed by him turning back around and repeating the process.

  He’d probably gotten about twice the run in than I did, but the view was amazing.

  After what felt like nearly three miles, but was probably more like one, I finally raised the proverbial white flag. “I gotta stop,” I wheezed, waving my hand in the air once he was back.

  He stopped immediately and came back to me, his hands on his hips and his beautiful chest moving slightly faster than normal.

  His face was dripping sweat, mingling with that on his chest, and running down the ridged muscles of his abs to disappear in the waistband of his boxers.

  “You did pretty good. Got a mile out of you at least,” he grinned.
/>   As he got closer, I could see each individual rivulet of sweat roll.

  I’d never been a fan of sweat.

  It was bad enough when I did it, but just then, with Cleo all sweaty and sexy as if he’d just had sex for hours, I was turned on beyond belief.

  “I tried,” I managed to get out.

  “You did good. Proud of you,” he said as he took my hand and started walking back to his house.

  Now that I wasn’t dying of hypoxia, I started to take in the road we’d been running on.

  “This is a nice area. When did you move in here?” I asked.

  He smiled fondly. “I bought it a couple of years ago. I didn’t move in here until last month. A couple of the MC members helped me out by replacing the floors and the roof, making it livable.”

  “What I saw of it was really great. More than livable,” I supplied.

  He grabbed my hand suddenly and veered off the road, taking a path that led into the woods.

  “I’ve been fixing stuff here and there since I’ve been home. I just finished my bedroom two weeks ago. The bathroom a week before that. The kitchen, on the other hand, leaves much to be desired,” he spoke as we walked, leading me along a winding path through a deep thicket of woods.

  “Wow,” I said. “Where are you taking me?”

  “I own all this property on this side of the road. A little over sixty acres. I used most of my mom’s life insurance money to buy it. Now I’m using the rest of what she left me to fix it up,” he said just as the path we were on started jutting downward.

  He held out his hand, and I took it gratefully as I maneuvered my tired legs over the uneven ground.

  “Is there some water around here somewhere?” I asked, as I smelled the distinct scent of algae and plant life.

  “Yep. My property runs along Twelve Mile Bayou. I share my backyard with a couple hundred gators,” he teased.

  I looked at him crossly. “You know how I feel about them.”

  He grinned unrepentantly. “Yeah, I do.”

  I hated alligators. They were ugly, vile creatures.

  They were also the reason I’d lost my childhood dog, Cinderella.

  I’d seen the whole debacle and had formed a lifelong commitment to hating anything and everything that had to do with alligators.

  “It’s a good thing I’m in Shreveport then. There’s no way I could live out here. You’d have to put up a fence or something to keep them from coming into the yard. Then you’d be out a bunch of money,” I said as we finally made it close enough for me to see the water.

  He turned to me, looking at me oddly.

  However, he didn’t say anything, just continued to scan my face for something.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I’d build you a fence,” he said suddenly.

  My heart started to pound.

  “Cleo,” I started, but he interrupted me.

  “No. Don’t do this yet. Just let me have today before we ruin the day. Please?” Cleo asked.

  I nodded reluctantly. “Okay.”

  We walked along the edge in silence, looking at the water, and listening to the occasional fish splash.

  I studiously ignored the slides that indicated that the belly of an alligator had previously occupied the spot that we were currently passing.

  I also ignored the fact that we were perilously close to the water.

  I knew that was why Cleo was the closest. Whatever happened would have to go through him first.

  We walked for a good twenty minutes before we arrived back at his house.

  The outside was stunning.

  “Your house is on stilts,” I said in surprise.

  He nodded. “Yeah, the lands flood occasionally. Stilts are needed during the rainy season.”

  “What would happen to your bike and your truck if it started flooding?” I wondered.

  He shrugged. “I’d move them to the top of the road. Like I said, all the land is mine. It’s never flooded that far before.”

  I grimaced. “That’s actually quite scary to think about you trapped down here.”

  He gave me a perturbed look. “Honey, I’d never be stranded. I have every resource I’d ever need inside my head. Not to mention that I have a boat at the dock and a cell phone if I needed to make a call. It’d never happen.”

  I stuck my tongue out at him. “It could happen.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Maybe to some imbecile who doesn’t know his ass from his nose. Never to me.”

  “You’d just better pray it never happens while I’m here. You’d be carrying me the entire way. That black, murky water scares the shit out of me.”

  He snorted and started walking up the stairs that led to his back porch.

  I watched his ass as we went. The perfectly round, muscled globes taunting me.

  I hadn’t meant to, but my finger extended, and I ran it down the crack of his ass.

  He froze. “Watch it.”

  It took me a few seconds to realize he wasn’t talking about me ‘watching his ass,’ but instead about me touching him in the first place.

  “Why?” I asked once he started walking again.

  “Because after that little show you gave me in the bathroom, I want nothing more than to bend you over and fuck you so hard you feel me in your throat,” he growled, spinning around, his gaze spearing me in place.

  He watched as my hand clenched tightly on the wooden railing.

  Watched my breasts heave.

  And none of it was because of exertion.

  No, this was because of pure, sexual desire.

  “That wasn’t meant to get your dick hard,” I lied.

  He stared at me for a few long seconds before answering. “You’re playing with fire.”

  I laughed. “As if that could scare me.”

  Before I could get the last word out, Cleo lunged forward, encircling my waist with his large arm and pulling me flush up to his body.

  “It should,” he said ominously just before leaning forward and sucking the top fleshy part of my breast into his mouth.

  I groaned, pushing closer to him as Cleo back stepped up the stairs.

  With no other choice, I followed him.

  He pulled hard, and I could practically feel the blood rushing to my skin, purpling in a bruise that was in the shape of his sexy, sinful mouth.

  “You,” I said breathily. “We…fuck.”

  He’d pulled the top down exposing my nipple to his hungry mouth, followed shortly by sucking it roughly into his mouth.

  He fed on my nipple, taking long, rough pulls. Then he alternated by running the tip of his tongue around the turgid peak while holding it in place with his teeth.

  “Damn,” I groaned when we finally reached the top step, allowing me to lean into his embrace fully, followed shortly by my hand disappearing into the elastic of his pants.

  His cock was rock hard as my fist finally found its destination.

  He spread his legs wider, allowing the room I so desperately wanted.

  His balls were loose and hanging a lot lower between his legs than they’d been last night, and I was fascinated by the feel of them.

  “You’re killing me,” he said just before switching to my other breast.

  I smiled down at his head, and then closed my eyes as he took a particularly strong pull on my nipple.

  “God,” I groaned as his large hand slipped underneath the elastic of my own pants, and zeroed in on my throbbing clit.

  His back hit the side of the house, and he groped blindly for the screen door’s handle, never once losing his grip on my clit or my breast.

  He swung quickly, flinging the screen door open so hard that it slapped against the house with a thud.

  He didn’t wait for it to close, though.

  One second I was in front of him massaging his balls, and the next I was inside the door, on my knees.

  With a harsh yank, he pulled my tight shorts down my legs exposing my ass.

  With no time wa
sted, he lined his hard cock up with my entrance, and thrust inside.

  This sex was different than it was last night.

  Harder. Rougher. Stronger. With more emotion.

  My eyes closed as he started thrusting his hips forward, ramming into me so hard that I had to fall down to my elbows to keep myself from face planting into his pretty wood floors.

  My core started tightening on his cock, going higher and higher until I started to explode around him.

  Impossibly, his speed increased, and his balls started slapping against my clit, giving me that little push that I needed to rocket into my orgasm.

  I would’ve screamed, but my breath left me in the first wave.

  My pussy clamped down hard on his cock, milking him like a serpent.

  He groaned and grasped the fleshy part of my ass as he thrust once, twice, and three more times, finally releasing inside of me.

  “Jesus,” he panted and pulled out, bringing me into his side as he rolled.

  “You know,” I panted back as I looked at the ceiling. “This place kind of reminds me of a church.”

  ***

  Cleo

  “That’s because it was one,” a snotty voice said from the other side of the screen door.

  I stood so fast that I got light headed.

  Rue’s legs snapped together so fast and hard that it sounded like a gunshot echoing around the room.

  “Jesus Christ, Molly. Don’t you knock...or call?” I growled as I yanked my shorts up over my dick.

  Molly’s eyes were pointed at the tin roof as she surveyed anything that wasn’t my body.

  “I tried calling. You didn’t answer. I also tried knocking on the front door, and you didn’t answer that either. This was my third option,” Molly snapped.

  Moving my foot, I grabbed Rue’s shirt with my toes and flicked them at her.

  She caught it gratefully and roughly yanked the shirt over her body inside out and backwards.

  Her shorts were already up, and she looked like she was contemplating running away.

  “Stay,” I snapped.

  She lowered her eyebrows and I could just see the words that were on the tip of her tongue.

  “She can leave,” Molly said disdainfully.

  I turned to my sister and glared at her.

  She was staring at Rue with such hatred that I wanted to beat her ass.

  “She’s staying. You’re leaving,” I volleyed back.