by Kim Karr
“Really?” She sounds surprised.
“Really.”
“Stop by later and show me?”
I nod. “Hey, you sure everything is okay?”
She smiles. “Go buy yourself a new ride. We’ll talk later.”
I make a mental note to stop by Beck’s tomorrow and ask what’s going on before I head for the door.
***
By sunset I’m jamming my boot down on the kickstand of my new black and silver BMW K 1300S. Sweetest ride I’ve ever bought. Its dynamic performance sold me within the first few feet of the tires hitting the pavement—she can move. As twilight teases the horizon, I toss my leg over the side and step back to admire the beauty of the incredible machine that’s now mine—on credit, but I own it nonetheless. When I glance up, I see someone’s red hair blowing in the wind. There’s no mistaking her—S’belle. I stay frozen in place and observe her standing on the sidewalk. She pulls her phone away from her ear and kicks the flat tire of her car with her high heel.
Next she goes to the passenger door and bends down, peeking into the window of the white Cabriolet. She looks like she could use some assistance.
With my helmet in my hand I approach her. “Need some help?”
Her eyes dart to mine and her mouth forms a frown. “No, I’m good.”
“Really? Because it doesn’t look that way.”
Her phone rings and her eyes cut to the pocket she tucked it into and so do mine. I can’t help but notice the way her tight jeans hug her hips and thighs. She doesn’t even pull it out.
I raise a brow. “Not going to answer that? What if that’s your automotive assistance?”
“It’s my boss. I’m supposed to be at the wedding venue in thirty minutes.”
“So did you call Triple A?”
“No, I don’t have Triple A,” she hisses. “I’ve always called my brothers but neither is in town and my mother and stepfather are gone as well.”
I tap her trunk. “So pop this baby and I’ll change the tire for you.”
“I’m not completely helpless. I would have done that already but I locked my keys in the car. I’ve spent the last thirty minutes trying to figure out where I left them and there they are.” She points in the window.
I peer inside. The keys are dangling from the ignition. “Can’t help you there. Left my lock-pick kit at home.” She rolls her eyes. “Do you have a second set of keys?”
“Not on me,” she barks, and I try not to laugh. I could be offended that she seems to hate me so much but, honestly, something about her fiery attitude makes me yearn to see more of it. I try to control my grin by swiping my hand across my mouth. “I mean at home.”
Her brows scrunch together. “Of course I do, but that doesn’t help me now, does it?”
What I’m feeling is an overwhelming urge to spank her for being such a smart-ass but instead I hand her my helmet. “Here put this on.”
Her hands fly to her hips and she bites her bottom lip as if contemplating her fate. When her phone rings again, she glances at her wrist but she’s not wearing a watch. “Just get on,” I order. “I don’t bite. I’ll just run you to get your keys and bring you back here.”
“Didn’t you hear me? I’m supposed to be at work in thirty minutes. I don’t have time for that.”
I should have just walked away and left her and her bitchy attitude on the sidewalk. Somehow I couldn’t bring myself to do it. “I’ll run you home to grab a change a clothes and then drop you off at work.”
She steps forward and my vision blurs red from her closeness.
“Well . . . ,” she says.
I blink at her in confusion.
“The helmet. Are you going to hand it to me?”
Relief rises as I stretch out my hand and grin. “Here you go,” I say, bowing before her. “Where to?” What the hell is wrong with me?
“Sunset Place. Do you know where it is?”
Before I answer, she turns on her heels to head over to my bike. I watch her approach it with caution. She surveys it for a minute and then puts on the helmet. It’s a little big but she looks cute as fuck. Without fastening the strap she tries to clamber on the bike.
“Whoa, wait let me help you.” I rush to her side.
She plants both feet on the ground. “I can do it.”
Over her protests, I grasp the edge of the helmet’s open face and readjust it directly over her forehead. Then I tighten the strap. Already my heart is pounding from our close contact. So I walk around to the left side of the bike and a quirk a finger. “Come over here.”
With a scowl she does. “I can get on myself.”
“I’m sure you can but humor me.”
Again, an eye roll.
I shake my head in her direction. “Extend your right leg over the seat and then slide gently up onto it.”
She does with a slight huff.
“Put your feet on the pegs.” I point down.
“I’m not a child. I can figure it out.”
I try not to laugh because she is acting like a child. But surprisingly she does as she’s told.
“Good.” I’m trying to encourage her.
She gives me a closed mouth smile; I ignore her obnoxious gesture. “Have you ever ridden on one of these?”
“No. But how hard could it be?”
“For you, not very. It’s all a question of balance. Just stay upright and hold on.”
“Where’s your helmet?” she asks as I hop on.
“I gave it to you,” I say over my shoulder.
“You don’t have two?”
“I just bought the bike a few hours ago. I didn’t think I’d have a passenger so soon.” At that she says nothing. I can’t see her expression to tell whether she’s making a face. I put both my feet on the ground and turn my head. “Ready?”
“Are you sure you know how to drive this?” she asks nervously.
“I had one in New York. And besides, I’ve been riding dirt bikes and surfing my whole life. This is a piece of cake.”
But she stiffens when I climb onto the seat. “Hold on to me,” I tell her, as I click the kickstand up. For once she’s quiet. She says nothing as her arms wrap loosely around my chest. I grin as I jam my boot down on the throttle. “Tighter. You have to hold tighter than that.”
She clasps her hands together and I lower them. When I do, I feel her shoulders against my back. It’s something I’ve experienced with her before and this time I’m the quiet one as I ride off the few miles to West Hollywood. She moves closer as I zoom out onto the street and with her so close to me, I can’t push away the memories.
I had her naked before me sitting on the bathroom counter and I had to have her. She pulled my head to hers for a deep kiss. I circled my tongue just to taste more of her. Her lips were soft and tasted like mint. As my hands slid down her chest, her full breasts were too much to resist so I bent down and sucked on them. She still had her heels on and she ran the toe of her shoe up my thigh.
“Take those off,” I instructed.
She kicked them to the ground, pressed herself back against the counter and spread her legs apart before running her bare foot back up the same path on my leg. This time her painted blue toes curled around my hard cock and I stifled a groan. When her hands went to the same spot, she etched my erection with her fingernails. I leaned back and toed off my sneakers then shoved my jeans and boxers down in one swift movement before removing my shirt. Then I lowered my head. “You sure you want to do this?” I asked her as we both stood naked in the bathroom.
She nodded and reached her hand back down to my cock.
“Say it.” I wanted to make sure she wanted this as much as me.
“I want you to fuck me,” she breathed.
“Good, because that’s just what I’m going to do. I promise.”
She hopped off the counter and before I could ask where she thought she was going she dropped to her knees. As her hands explored what I had to offer, I gripped the counter. But w
hen her mouth plunged around me I yelled, “Fuck!”
I heard myself groan loudly as her teeth grazed under my cockhead and her hand grabbed the base. When my throbbing dick hit the back of her throat, I forgot all about where we were and even who we were and just took what she was giving. “Oh yeah, like that, just like that,” I said to her and dropped my head back.
Most guys start getting blowjobs young, but Dahl and I had been together forever and she never liked to give them. So unless she was really drunk or I begged for it, it wasn’t part of our sex life. And the few times she had attempted it, she never took it very far.
I looked down. S’belle licked every inch of me, sliding her tongue up and down my length before taking me down her throat again. She worked her mouth, up and down, back and forth. She fucked me so hard with that mouth, I couldn’t help but yell out, “Fuck, yes! Yeah, that’s it!” Fuck me, nothing could feel better than the way she slid my cock from one side of her mouth to the other, then down to the back of her throat. “Oh yeah, baby, that’s it, that’s it.” When I was close, I put my hands on the back of her head and guided her. She didn’t pull away—and there was nothing I wanted more than to come in her mouth. “Oh fuck!” The last strokes of her tongue made me explode. I filled her mouth and as she swallowed she still didn’t stop. I fucking loved it—the feeling that shot through my body was like anything I’d ever felt. I kept the pressure on her head for a few more seconds before letting go of everything as satisfaction rippled through me.
When I let up, she sat back on her heels and I could see the evidence of my pleasure glistening on her lips. I was panting, spent, and so fucked up, but all I knew was I wanted more.
During the ride she squeezes my waist tight when I whip around a corner. Her address turns out to be a nicely kept Spanish style apartment complex. She moves quickly to dismount as soon as I’ve turned off the engine but I reach my hand back. “From the left side, always from the left,” I say. She does as I ask and once her heels touch the sidewalk she whips her helmet from her head and her long red hair tumbles down her shoulders. Her cheeks are red from the cool air, but the smile on her face says what I know she clearly won’t—that she enjoyed herself.
“I’ll be right back,” she says and hands me the helmet.
I admire her ass as she enters the iron gate and disappears in the courtyard. Sitting alone, I allow myself to get lost in the memory of our night together.
“Are you okay?” she asks, having returned with a bag in hand.
I look up into those emerald green eyes. “Never better. Now hop on so I can get you to work on time.”
This time she grips my waist without hesitation—and as I steer out onto the road I feel a sense of happiness I haven’t felt in a long time.
When I pull over she hops off and hands me the helmet. “Thanks for the ride.”
She looks at her wrist again and I have to ask. “Why do you keep doing that?”
“What?” she asks.
“Looking at your arm.”
“Oh, I smashed my watch on a serving tray last week and can’t get used to not having it there.” She shrugs. “Habit, I guess.”
I nod in understanding.
“See you around.” She waves and heads toward the sliding doors.
“Bye, S’belle. See you around.” The whole situation is amusing to me because she obviously doesn’t know I’ll be attending the affair as well.
She turns and walks backward to continue the conversation. “My name is Bell.”
I grin and say nothing, thinking, “Sure thing, Red.”
Shaking her head, she turns her back to me. I glance at my watch. I have an hour to get back here so I pull into the street and race to my fleabag hotel to get changed for work. In the shower I turn the water on full blast. Steam from the hot water fogs the mirror by the time I’m done. I wipe it a few times and push my hair back with both hands. Alone in the bathroom, staring at myself, I see a reflection from a different time.
The curves of her beautiful breasts, a face full of promises, wild hair, me slamming into her from behind as she leaned over the counter and I looked in the mirror. Moans of passion that I wasn’t sure were hers or mine. My body shaking . . . hers quivering. I had been drunk, sure, but I felt completely sober when my hands roamed her body. Her pussy was so sweet I couldn’t get enough. Without any inhibitions, I told her all of my deepest sexual desires. She only smiled in response as I stood and brought her mouth to mine. I felt my dick throb.
With my body pressed up against hers, heat was everywhere, surrounding us. She pulled back and looked at me with clear eyes. “You’re not from LA, are you?” she asked.
“What makes you say that?”
“You just seem different.”
“Born and raised in Laguna.”
“On the beach. Was it fun?”
I ran my hands through my hair and quirked a smile. It wasn’t the time for conversation. My arms caged her body and my throbbing cock rubbed against her thigh.
Her eyes roved up and down my body and she licked her lips before dropping her gaze. “I think I really like surfers.”
“Oh yeah, what makes you say that?”
She pushed the hair from my eyes before dropping her stare again. “Tan, sun-bleached hair, hot, and sexy.”
I moved closer and whispered in her ear. “This hot and sexy guy is done talking now. I want to fuck you.”
She traced her tongue along my lips and moaned. Breathing heavily she purred, “Please.”
I urged her closer. She was so wet I slid inside her with unabashed ease. She closed her eyes, but I had a strange need to see her while I fucked her. I lifted her chin. “Look at me.”
We stared into the depths of each other’s eyes as I slowly moved in and back out so I could feel the thrill again. Each time I thrust in only felt better than the last. I could see in her eyes how much she was enjoying it and I was fucking loving it, too. Each plunge brought me closer to the brink. I tried to control myself but she was doing crazy things to me. When I could see she was close I said, “Come with me.”
She dug her nails into my back and wrapped her legs tighter around my waist. The sensation of filling her so deeply was unreal. She called out my name over and over and through gritted teeth I did the same. Once my orgasm subsided, I looked at myself in the mirror and was struck by a huge wave of guilt. Despite it, I closed my lids and felt my cock swell. It wasn’t anywhere near done and neither was I.
“Hey, surfer boy.” She pulled my attention back toward her. “Can we do that again?”
“I plan to.” I pulled away and circled her like she was my prey. “Put your heels back on and show me again how you walked on the beach in the Riviera.”
Not sure what came over me, I wanted her do as I ordered—it made my heart beat faster and adrenaline flooded me. When she moved passed me, I pulled her flush to my chest. I traced my fingers along the silky fabric covering her clit and sucked on one of her nipples. Her moans of pleasure made my dick ache but also made me feel like I was going to be able to do this all night long. I turned her around. “Watch us,” I told her, as I spread her legs and plunged into her from behind as we both looked on in the mirror.
Neither of us came but we weren’t done with each other when I stopped. Without a word, I picked her up and moved her to the bedroom. We fell to the mattress where I hovered above her and sucked her tits hard. I inserted two fingers inside her. I moved them in and out, faster and faster. She moaned. Next I used my tongue to plunge in and out of her pussy. She cried out in pleasure. I fucked her every way I could with a stamina I never knew I had. We fucked in ways I never had before. She squeezed her breasts together and I slipped my cock in between them. I thrust in and out over and over. It felt fucking amazing. I yelled and grunted and groaned and when I finally came, I came hard. My whole body trembled.
The last thing I remembered before passing out was grabbing her hips and moving her as she rode me. I had one hand on her pussy while the
other hand cupped her full breast. She was screaming my name like a prayer as I massaged her clit and tugged her hard nipples in unison.
When she started yelling, “That’s it, surfer boy, that’s it! Oh God, oh God, that feels so good!” I came deep and hard inside her.
When I woke up she was gone and my shirt blanketed my nakedness. The devil in me mourned her absence. But the larger part of me was relieved. The forbidden fruit was already bitten and I knew I needed to stay far away. One night with her had fulfilled every fantasy I ever had but I couldn’t risk my future on a fantasy.
Chapter 8
Counting Stars
The wedding festivities are in full swing when I arrive at the Montage a little late. I missed the announcements—too bad for me. I duck into the bathroom and loop my tie around my neck, thinking I don’t look all that bad—new tan suit, blue shirt. Except I wince at the sight of the tie in the reflection. Fuck the tie. I toss it in the trash and head to the bar to grab a quick drink before I go in search of the happy couple.
Once I throw back a quick one, I enter the grand ballroom and scope out the subtle signs of wealth and luxury. There are no tapestries, no grand, ornate, golden gilded mirrors, or fringed pieces of furniture that scream money. Instead S’belle did a great job of giving the couple what they wanted. Looking around I definitely feel like I’m in Nantucket—which was their wish. The elegant simplicity inherent in the wooden floors beneath the simple glass-cut chandelier at the center of the room only helps bring the blues and whites to life. Circular tables with toile tablecloths surround the dance floor with hydrangeas filling their centers in clear glass vases. Small candles are floating in water to illuminate the elegance of the fine table settings. And wicker chargers set the place setting for every guest. It’s very Ralph Lauren. Very Nantucket.
I spot the bride and groom immediately. Sloan lifts one hand in a vague gesture of hello. As I approach, her gaze meets mine and I try to ignore the familiarity in her greeting.
“Miss Bennett, how nice to see you again.” I take her hand and kiss it.