For once, it feels like things are finally looking up.
As my eyes trail down Jason’s body, it looks like something else is looking up too. Big Jason might still be fast asleep, but little Jason? Little Jason is standing hard, thick, and ready, pitching such a sizable tent beneath the sheet that continuing to call it Little Jason feels deceitful and wrong.
Jason’s dick is a fucking weapon—locked, loaded, and ready to be fired at will.
I can’t even help myself. I reach for it as if on instinct, my greedy fingers ready to pump that gorgeous piece of man meat until I make him fire his cum cannon all over these nice, clean bed sheets.
But just as my hand wraps around the rock-hard thickness of Jason’s dick, I hear Jason growl like a wild fucking animal. His eyes open fiercely, and he grabs my wrist so hard I’m momentarily afraid he’s going to snap it then and there beneath his big, strong hands.
We stay like that for a second, both of us frozen, hearts pounding, holding our breath.
Jason breathes out first. Gratefully, I follow suit.
“You shouldn’t startle a man awake like that,” Jason says, forcing a laugh. He yanks my wrist and pulls me on top of him, claiming my mouth in a kiss.
He’s minty. Fresh. You don’t realize what a luxury toothpaste is after wondering if you’re going to go without it for a while.
It makes my tongue feel pleasantly tingly when Jason slips his between my lips.
“You taste like cunt,” he says, grinding his cock against my pussy with only the sheet between us.
“I wouldn’t mind if you tasted like cunt, too, you know,” I tease, grinding right back.
It feels so fucking good to just feel safe for a while, like nothing’s about to get you and nothing’s about to go wrong.
Of fucking course, it can’t last.
There are keys on top of the bag of supplies Kristen has left us. Inside it is enough water to last us several days. Food for a week, if we ration it. To my surprise, there’s also a bottle of moonshine.
“Wow,” I say, holding it up for Jason to admire. “We must have fucked her pretty good last night.”
“I recall you doing most of the fucking,” Jason says, taking the keys in his thick fingers. “Have a swig, Kat, baby. You’ve earned it. Besides, looks like I’m driving.”
The moonshine is dark and tastes like caramel gasoline. It burns all the way down. It’s been so long since I’ve had hard liquor, I end up coughing like some kind of lightweight after just one swig.
It makes Jason laugh at me.
Normally, I’d mind. I’d get offended or some shit. But Jason has a nice laugh, and these days, you take your amusement where you can get it.
Enjoy it while you still can.
The keys go with some kind of modded-out Trans Am. It has a hazard-orange body, although between the doors, the hood, and the trunk, it’s a total ROY G. BIV situation. Every color of the rainbow.
It might have been a firebird once, in another lifetime. Now, when Jason turns the key in the ignition, it runs, and that’s all anyone can ask of it.
As I slide into the passenger side next to him, I tuck my slender legs up beneath me on the worn leather of the seat. The road before us is long and full of potholes. Barely a road at all, really.
But the sunrise is still staining the horizon Bloody Mary red. The day is still cool, with plenty of day ahead of us. And the moonshine has settled in my stomach nicely.
I’m curled up there like a sleeping kitten. It’s a reminder that people can still be good, and the world can still be okay—that we’re only a hot shower and a good night’s sleep away from feeling human again.
“Let me blow you,” I say, turning to Jason after a while.
Jason yawns, then looks over at me and smiles. “You’ve got a one-track mind, Kat, babe,” he says.
But that doesn’t stop him from leaning the seat back a little and reaching down beneath the steering wheel to get his cock out of his jeans.
I’ll never get tired of seeing this man hard. Like, holy shit. It makes me wet just looking at him.
I pounce on that big, ten-inch cock like a woman starved, and there’s only one thing that can satisfy me. My lips stretch around it, wet and happy to accommodate his iron-hot thickness as it slides against my tongue.
“Goddamn,” Jason breathes shakily. “You suck cock like a dream.”
“Don’t fall asleep, honey,” I tease him as I pop his cock out of my mouth. A long strand of saliva connects my lips and his big, fat cockhead.
I’m ready to slurp it back up and go back down on him ASAP. “We’ve got a looooong road ahead.”
But just as I’m about to swallow that bad boy up and force the entire length of him down my throat again, I see something black out of the corner of my eye.
Dark.
Sinister.
It’s moving so fast that by the time Jason sees it, there’s not even a chance to wrench the steering wheel and turn the car away.
The van T-bones us so hard my window shatters, showering me with the sharp little snowfall of broken glass.
We’ve been caught.
Jason
“Fuck! Buckle the fuck up, Kitten. These motherfuckers aren’t playing!”
The car that slammed into us, almost tossing us into a spin, recovered just as fast from the impact as I did. Whoever made us is hot on our tail, and the speeds are hitting close to 100 mph.
“I hope this fucking piece of shit holds onto the tires. Look behind us and see if you can tell how many are in the car,” I growl out. My voice is demanding, but I’ve never failed, and I won’t now.
My eyes are on the road ahead as Kat unclicks her seatbelt for a minute, checking the back window.
“I think two, but the window isn’t clean. Hard to tell with all that dust.” Kat’s voice is shaking when she speaks.
“Belt back on. Now. Hold on. I’m taking that turn off up there.” I point out toward the small dirt road that’s about a hundred feet ahead of us. They won’t expect that. How fucking stupid could someone be to go off-road in a Trans Am?
“What the hell was his name?” My voice is that of an insane man. She wouldn’t even know what I was talking about.
“Huh? Whose name?” Kat looks over with a blank stare.
“Smokey and the Bandit. What the hell was Burt’s name in that movie?”
Of course, she still doesn’t know who I’m talking about, but that movie made cars like this famous.
“Bo. The name was Bo.” With that, I make the sharp turn down the dirt road, the tail end of the car swerving back and forth.
“Shit, they followed us,” I say, my voice even. I won’t let her know that we’re this close to fucked.
Not yet, at least. Not ‘til I’m sure of it.
“You know how to shoot?” I ask her. I’m sure she does. Girls like Kat are eye candy, not badasses. Except Kat.
“Yeah, I do.” She laughs, and I smile. That’s my girl.
“Grab the gun out of my boot. I want you to try to shoot out the tires. Not ours!”
Sticking her tongue out, Kat reaches down, grabbing the small handgun in my boot. Her hand is shaking.
“Roll the window down. I’m going to slow a little. When the car gets close, shoot the fucking tires.”
“Got it. Hey, can I call you Tex? You know, like this is some gunfight at the OK Corral?” Her voice is filled with nervous laughter.
“Sure, call me whatever the fuck you want. Just don’t miss, okay?”
Rolling the window down, Kat leans out as I slow the car to 50 mph. It’s a chance we have to take.
“Can you get a clean shot?” I ask. I’m just hoping she doesn’t drop the fucking gun.
“Yeah, I think... I can,” she says, the gun resting in her hand as she aims it at the car behind us.
POP!
“I HIT IT. I HIT IT!” Kat screams out. She fumbles with the gun, almost dropping it.
I yank her back in the car by the back o
f her shirt. She’s laughing out of some manic combination of euphoria and fear when I do.
She settles herself back in the seat in a state of shock.
“You got the sum, bitches. Knocked that car clean off the fucking road. I think I’ll call you Candy Apples.” I cackle with laughter. I slow down and watch the two guys in the other car rant and scream.
“Did you get cut when the window blew?” I ask her. I was concerned before, but there was no time to say anything. Fight-or-flight took over.
Grabbing my smokes from the dash, I tap out a Marlboro red, perching it between my lips. Pushing in the car lighter, I hope it works. This car is, like, ancient, and I forgot my lighter back at the place we stayed at.
Pop. The lighter signals it’s hot. I light up my cigarette; the cancer stick is needed in times like this.
“Bad habit, but fuck, so is dying,” I say as I inhale, the smoke filling my lungs with toxic fumes.
“That stinks,” Kat spits out, reaching to yank the cigarette from my lips. Placing it between her own lips, she inhales, leaning back when the smoke consumes her.
“Fucking hell, Kat!” Growling, I have the cigarette back before she can complain.
We drive for hours, until the sun is making its way slowly toward the horizon.
“Where are we going?” she finally asks. Her feet are now hanging out the window of the car, the road finally back to paved.
“I know a place where we can stay tonight. If anyone finds us, well, let’s just say this—they won’t find us.”
A hundred more miles pass before we reach the destination. We reach a biker bar called Whiskey Pete’s.
No one would venture into this place without a death wish. You have to know someone to even make it through the parking lot.
We’re stopped by two armed men. I look over at Kat for a minute. “Stay put, okay?”
She nods, but I don’t trust her. Not for a minute.
Turning the ball cap on my head backward, I get out, and I’m met with two old friends.
“Jason, that you?” the bigger one of the two asks. He’s about forty, with a pot belly, and balding. The gun on his side makes up for his appearance.
“Yeah, me and the old lady.” I stop for a minute. I hate to lie to them, but they don’t need to know everything. “We need to lay low. She blew the wrong guy back in Texas, and, well, we need a place for the night.”
“You fucking liar!”
There she is, not following the fucking rules again. Standing at my side, this crazy woman is going to blow it all. Why the hell doesn’t she listen? Why?
But I still fucking love the fuck out of her, even if she can’t keep her mouth shut.
“Yeah, we can put you up for a day or two, but put that bitch in her place. You know the boss doesn’t like mouthy women.”
With that, we’re waved through.
“I told you to stay in the car. I asked you nicely. Why can’t you just, for once, listen to me? These guys are not a cake walk.”
Driving to the front of the neon-lit bar, I ask again, “Please, let me handle this. I’ll get us a room, and you can finish that blowjob you started in the car.”
Kat
These fucking bitch men sure do like to say “bitch” a lot. They like reminding themselves of what they think they are or some shit. Wonder why they need so much reminding?
Not that Jason’s much of a slouch in the manhood department, at least the physical manhood department.
Tonight, he’s doing an okay job in the practical manhood department as well. That stunt-style drivin’ wasn’t too bad, even if he likes to ham it up like he’s on the set of some fucking third-rate car chase movie.
On the other hand, treating real-life peril like a movie isn’t a bad way to make my juices flow, but I think Jason’s gonna have to wait a bit before I wrap my lips around his ample cock again, despite what he’s thinking.
Okay, so my mouth is a bit dry after that nice little chase punctuated by some of that loud-ass gunfire that I’m getting all too used to these days.
I can tell Jason wants to put his hand on my back, or maybe hold my hand like some love-struck little kid as he walks quickly across the parking lot.
He wants me to go faster, upset that I cramped his style in front of his old bald lil’ buddy. I’m showing him by keeping up with what he thinks is a fast stride.
“Come on, let’s go!”
That’s what he has to settle for, more hollering at my ass.
“The quicker we get into the room, the quicker we get laying low, the better,” he proceeds to seethe out in a gravelly whisper.
I’ll reiterate: what a fuckin’ ham. All these new sides of Jason coming out tonight are kinda growin’ on me, though, and I know there’s one part of him that’s probably growing as we walk, just thinking about what’s gonna happen when we get into whatever shit-ass back roads motel room is waiting for us.
I watch for signs of walking funny.
“What you fucking looking at? You’ll get plenty of opportunity to take it all in soon enough.” Jason’s giving me a crooked smirk.
“Doesn’t this place specialize in whiskey or something? They’re advertising their whiskey-ness in neon.”
Jason’s smirk drops into his own resting bitch face. Fuck it, he’s so fond of that word, I’m gonna use it, thinking and speaking about his as I please.
“I told you to let me handle this, and you ignore that and get out of the car with me again. And I don’t say shit! The least you could do is let that pretty mouth rest for like five goddamn minutes so it’ll be in good condition for my throbbing cock.”
I do my best to make my own face into something resembling a crooked Jason-like smirk.
“My crooked mouth is feelin’ awful dry. I think some of that roadhouse whiskey is in order to prepare me properly for our room fun.”
“Room fun? It’s this weird bullshit I’m talking about! You’re gonna get us killed, or worse, with your nonsense. You better wait in the fucking car for both our good.” He shakes his head. “You of all people should know better than this.”
I look back at the parked vehicle, like I’m even considering getting the fuck back inside. Very little good can happen inside that thing, as I’ve been learning slowly.
Maybe a little good happens there, but that doesn’t involve me sitting in there like a quiet little lady by my fucking self as fucking Jason goes and plays cowboy biker or whatever the fuck he’s planning to do in that Whiskey Place nightmare.
I look back at Jason’s face. He looks serious. Fuck, he looks shit-scared.
Maybe he has a point.
“Just what kinda barroom dealings are you planning on up in there that are manly and important that I need to hide out in that death-mobile?”
I watch for Jason to start getting angry, because that could be kinda fucking hot. Fuck, it would definitely be hot.
If he wants for me to start up that blowjob again at some point soon, he has to give me a little bit of fire.
I mean, gunplay is one thing, but I don’t like that dumbly violent crap. I like to watch a man’s face turn into passionate anger in the intimacy of a sketchy biker bar parking lot.
But no, still just fear. The motherfucker’s still just shit-scared. Maybe of the situation, maybe for me and my safety, or maybe of just how I can mess it up somehow.
I don’t mess shit up as a rule. But nobody’s perfect, and rules have exceptions.
“Fear can be good,” I purr, tryin’ to throw in a bit of menace to maybe inspire the blood to start flowing to Jason’s nether regions.
“More weird shit. What the fuck are you talking about?”
I nod back toward the car.
“I see you’re scared. And fuck, that makes me a little scared. And, I’ll say it, a lot turned on. Two things you want: the rest of that blowjob, and for me to wait in hiding in the car. The least you could do is step with me back there for a few.”
I can see Jason seriously considering t
he possibilities. I’d like to think I can see his cock expanding through his jeans as well.
Jason nods a bit too slowly, if I do fucking say so myself. And I realize that in spite of how we fell so easily back into each other’s arms, I don’t know for sure who he really is anymore.
But if I know him at all, he’ll never pass up a chance for a blowjob.
“So,” I ask him, “is that a yes?”
Kat
The walk back to that motherfucking car is only a few feet, but it feels like it takes a goddamn eternity to get there. The pavement is rough, like this shitty little place needs some serious fuckin’ care.
I get to the car and pull up at the handle. I scoff. “It’s locked still, asshole.”
“Hang on. Jesus Christ, you have no patience, Kat,” Jason remarks.
“Well, excuse me, fucker. What the hell was I supposed to do if you didn’t come back with me then?” I love testing this guy. Fuck, I just love this guy.
I like watching that little vein on the top of his head start pulsing. That’s how I know I’m really pissing him off. And when he’s hot, the sex is phenomenal. Nothing’s changed.
“You’re pushin’ it, Kat.”
I giggle. After fuckin’ around and getting the keys in the door, Jason gets into the driver’s seat. He reaches his arm over and lifts the lock on the passenger side, and I crawl into the car.
I see Jason all panicked again when I look over at his face. “What the fuck are you so hung up about?” I demand.
“Nothin’, alright? Stop worryin’ about me. Get the fuck to work, baby,” Jason commands.
I sit up on my knees in the seat, facing Jason. My butt cheeks peek out from underneath my tight leather skirt, and the heels of my boots are hard-pressed against the passenger side door.
I reach my hand over and grab at his pants, feeling his hard cock in my grasp. A man so well-endowed just drives me insane. I smile, bite my lip, and shake my hips in excitement.
I move my hand up and unbuckle his belt and unfasten the button to his light-blue jeans. I unzip his pants slowly and carefully.
The Marriage Mistake_A Billionaire Hangover Romance Page 66