Riding Lil' Red Hard

by Eddie Cleveland

  “Marcus! Leave him alone! I didn’t tell him who I was. This is my fault. You have to remember your temper,” Charlotte screams.

  “Lottie, you stay outta this. It’s between me and him. Get your ass ready for church. You’re gonna make me late for my service,” Marcus answers her through gritted teeth and swings at me. I move my head and he hits the floor as he yowls.

  His service? “You’re a priest?” I twist my hips hard to the left and shimmy out from under him. “Look, you’re a man of God, aren’t you supposed to be all about forgiveness?” I give it my best shot as I spring up and pick up the last of my things from the ground.

  Marcus shakes his hand in the air then stands back up. “I’m a Pastor, not Jesus. And if you don’t get out of my house right now, I’m gonna be praying for my own forgiveness when I go grab my bat,” he swings at me again, rage blinding his sight.

  That temper. I remember it well. I’ve felt the sting of its bite in the past. If Marcus says he’s gonna beat me with a bat and work it out with God later, I believe him.

  With an arm full of my clothes, I race past him out the door of Charlotte’s room and take the stairs from the basement to the main floor two at a time. Behind me, I can hear Marcus breathing heavy as he tries to chase me down. He’s not far from my heels and I only hope he doesn’t lunge forward and grab my ankles, throwing me down the stairs.

  Luckily, I make it up without incident and rush for the front door as Marcus lumbers after me like an angry grizzly bear. I don’t have time to stop and put on pants. I don’t have time to try to calm him down. I hastily yank open the front door to the house and rush through the other side, racing down to the sidewalk as Marcus yells at me.

  “I better not see you around here again, Connor. Or next time I’ll break your face. And Lottie is off limits. I know you don’t know what that means, but I’ll be happy to teach you!” He alerts the entire neighborhood with his thundering voice.

  I scoot down the sidewalk, trying to avoid the stares of people I can see peeking out their windows at me. I’m just grateful for the underwear I managed to put on. The last thing I need is a public indecency charge on top of everything else.

  Little Lottie King is all grown up, and she just landed me in a heap of trouble. Now the question is, how can I see her again?

  6|Charlotte

  Marcus shuffles his papers at the pulpit. He still won’t look at me. Not since I watched the flame of rage engulf his dark eyes as he glared at me this morning while poor Connor ran from the house half naked.

  My brother clears his throat and smooths his hand down over his tie. “If the children would make their way to Sunday school with my sister,” his voice grows tense, “Charlotte King, please. She will be filling in for Ms. Douglas today.” He points across the full pews to me, finally acknowledging my existence for the first time since he lost his mind this morning.

  I stand up at the back of the church and the children run, hop and skip down the aisle toward me. Bright smiles are on their faces and I can’t help but grin back, even though I can feel Marcus bore a hole through me with his angry glare. They just look so cute all done up in their church clothes.

  As I lead them out into the lobby, I look over my shoulder at my big brother, still confused about what exactly happened this morning. When we were growing up, Marcus bossed me around like he thought he was my second father. He’s always been a protective brother, even more so when our parents were killed in the car accident. Even though I wasn’t a kid when they passed, he still treated me like one. He seemed to double down on his whole Dad routine, often asking me where I was going, who I’d be out with and when I’d be home. It’s only been in the last two years that he finally seemed to realize that I’m a grown woman who can spend her time how she wants.

  Until today, that is.

  I lead the flock of children down the hallway to the room where Sunday school is held. The kids all rush to their seats as I make my way to the front and pick up the vibrant children’s version of the Bible, flipping through it nostalgically.

  I remember when I used to sit in this class and listen to Ms. Douglas teach us about Noah’s ark or the Christmas story. Each class always ended with a song that we all cheerfully belted out in our off-key voices.

  Everyone except Janae has taken their seats, she’s too busy twirling around in her daffodil-yellow dress to be bothered.

  “Ms. King?” Janae briefly tears her eyes from the billowing ruffles of her dress to meet mine.

  “Yes?”

  “Where’s Ms. Douglas today? I miss her,” she stops in her tracks and suddenly pouts a little. It’s hard to keep a straight face at her theatrics.

  “That’s a great question, Ms. Douglas isn’t here today because her youngest daughter got married this weekend. She’ll be back next Sunday though. So, could you please take a seat so we can start our lesson?”

  Janae looks around the room and seems to realize, for the first time, that she’s the only one still standing. She scurries to her chair. “That’s so nice that her daughter got married,” she coos. “I already know who I’m gonna marry,” Janae smiles broadly, showing off the spaces where she’s recently lost a few baby teeth.

  “Oh, really?” I tilt my head, “And who is that?”

  “Billy!” She points over to the seven-year-old boy who immediately crinkles his nose in disgust.

  “Eww! No way! I’m not getting married!” He protests and wipes his face like he just got slime poured over his head.

  “Yes, you are Billy Cole. We are in love and we are gonna get married!” Janae puts her hands on her hips and gives him a pointed stare.

  “Okay, let’s get back to the lesson,” I interrupt and try not to laugh as I watch poor little Billy slump over in his chair, defeated. “Today we’re gonna talk about John the Baptist,” I begin to thumb through the pages of the well-worn Bible and the kids hush.

  I find the story I want to read to them as my mind wanders back to Connor and the insanity that happened this morning at the house. When I watched him get chased out, I felt like Billy over there. Like the wind had been taken out of my sails and that I would probably never see the man I’ve been craving my entire life again, just because of some unknown feud between him and my brother.

  After that, it’s hard to believe they were once inseparably close. Every weekend if Connor wasn’t sleeping over at our house, then Marcus was at his. I remember being desperate to hang out with them when they went on their epic adventures, riding off on their bikes with empty knapsacks slung over their backs, only returning hours later when those bags were full of fish.

  I could learn a thing or two from Janae. I can’t just give up because Marcus doesn’t like Connor anymore. That doesn’t have anything to do with me. Although, I’m definitely curious to find out what it does have to do with.

  I’m going to find out, I nod my head and open the book to my page. I’m going to go to his place tonight and get to the bottom of this whole issue. I’m not going to let some stupidity between Marcus and Connor steal away my happiness. I’m not a kid, I can see whoever I want and if my brother doesn’t approve, then too bad.

  I take a deep, refreshing breath into my lungs and look out at the children’s faces feeling more confident and more settled. “So, let’s talk about John the Baptist.”

  7|Connor

  “You’re sure you don’t want to head out early tomorrow instead?” I watch as Rogers cinches down the straps on his bags he’s attaching behind the seat of his motorcycle. I don’t want to sound like a mother hen, but after retiring as the Lieutenant of our old SEAL team, I guess old habits die hard.

  “Nah, I like travelling at night. The freeway is less congested. There’s just something about ripping down the roads on my baby at night, I can’t explain it. It just feels like freedom,” he smiles down at his Harley wistfully. “Besides, Gabe is expecting me in the morning, I don’t want to crush his spirit and not show,” he laughs and I can’t help but join in. We
both know that Gabe the Babe, as we called him, only cares about number one.

  My conscience twinges, is that still how he is? Even after the burns?

  I push the thought away. I can’t go there right now.

  “I think the real question is, are you gonna be alright after that humiliating defeat this morning?” He laughs even harder just like he did when I spilled the beans on why I was driving home in my underwear after our night out.

  “Shut up, man,” I rub my hand down the side of my burning face.

  “I’m just saying, everyone would expect that story from me. But you? Bumping uglies with your old buddy’s sister and getting chased out with a bat?” He laughs so hard he starts to cough. “That shit is priceless.”

  “Well, it’s a real shame to see you go,” I answer loudly, waving toward his bike. “A real shame,” my voice is flat.

  “Ah, c’mon,” Rogers gets his fucking giggle fit under control. “Don’t be like that man,” he looks up at me to see if I’m being serious.

  I’m not.

  “Nah, it’s all good,” I smile. “I’m glad I could entertain you. It’s one of those stories I’ll laugh at in a few years, you know?”

  “Yeah, well, if you don’t mind, I’m gonna keep laughing at it now,” he chuckles as his boots scuff against the dirt driveway over to his motorcycle.

  “Yeah, yeah. Well be careful and all that shit. I don’t want to sound like your mom or whatever, but fire me off a text when you get settled at Gabe’s place,” I follow him to his bike.

  “You got it man,” he throws his leg over the seat and holds on to the handles as he straddles his Harley. “Hey, let’s not wait so long to see each other again, okay?” The smile drains from his face as his voice becomes serious. “A year is too long to go without seeing your brother, I missed you man.” His voice is suddenly heavy as the air around us swirls with the burden of his words.

  “I hear ya,” I clear my throat. “I promise, I’ll be see you again soon, maybe I’ll come up your way next time,” I clap my hand over his shoulder.

  He nods then wordlessly pulls his helmet down over his head and fires up the engine with a roar. “I’m gonna hold you to that,” he gives me a pointed look and I nod back at him. He knows I’m a man of my word. If I say it, it’s happening. Rogers holds up his hand in a motionless wave and twists the bike around before leaving a trail of dust behind him as he disappears into the night.

  I hope he’s careful getting out of here. My cabin is pretty far off the beaten path up here in the Willamette National Forest. At least it’s all just one straight road from here to Bend though.

  I head back inside, shutting the door to my renovated cabin behind me and take a deep breath. It’s been awesome having Rogers visit, but I’m looking forward to some peaceful nights that don’t end in me precariously making my way up my ladder to my sprawling loft bed before passing out drunk.

  I flop down in my comfy leather chair and let my mind wander back to Charlotte. She must have known who I was before we went home together. Why didn’t she tell me?

  Before this morning, I had pushed the beef between Marcus and me away. It was locked down into some kind of secret trunk in my brain. Now, the memories come flooding back, painfully rubbing my nose in a mistake made long ago and a friendship I destroyed.

  I lean my head back against the cool, comforting leather and close my eyes. There’s nothing I can do about any of that now. All I can do is try to push Charlotte out of my mind. Because I can’t see her again. It wouldn’t be right. Even if she is all grown up in the best ways. Even if she does smell like the sweet innocence of a field of lavender but fucks like a wild woman.

  My thoughts travel to her glistening body, lit by the moonlight, pulsing with pleasure, writhing beneath me.

  It doesn’t matter if I felt a real connection with her. None of it fucking matters, because I ruined everything long before she transformed into the stunning woman she is now.

  Ruhr-tick-tick!

  My eyes open wide as I hear the roar of Rogers’ motorcycle in my driveway. I wonder if he changed his mind about making the trip tonight. I jump up to my feet and fling open the door with a smile on my face.

  “Told ya I’d see you again soon,” I laugh but my lips tug down and my eyebrows knit together as I see the dual headlights on a small car illuminate her from behind like an angel.

  Charlotte.

  “No, no, no,” I shake my head. “This isn’t a good idea,” I make my way back into the house.

  “Wait Connor!” I can hear her run across the driveway and follow me to the door.

  “Charlotte, you can’t just show up here like this,” I step inside and she follows uninvited.

  “You think I’m just gonna let things end the way they did? Like I’m going to sit back and watch you walk out of my life for another fourteen years Connor?” Her brown eyes plead with me.

  “Lottie,” her name crosses my lips in a whisper, “why didn’t you tell me it was you?” I don’t mean to tuck her hair behind her ear. I don’t remember taking the step closer to her, or how my lips ended up hovering over hers.

  “I wanted you to give me a chance this time. It was wrong, I’m sorry, but I had no idea that you and my brother had some kind of problem with each other. What happened between you two?”

  I feel the pain of the memory twist my face and I try to imagine her ever looking at me the way she is right now after she knows. I can’t do it. I can’t force the words from my mouth. Instead, I let the door slam shut and walk her backward until her back is flat against it, and cover her mouth in a long, sensual kiss.

  “Did you really come here to talk, Charlotte? Or is there something else you’d like me to do with these lips?” I echo her words from last night back to her.

  Charlotte’s lids look heavy as she gazes up at me. Her chest is pressed against mine, I can feel her lungs filling with air like she’s just ran a marathon.

  “Kiss me, Connor,” she sighs.

  8|Charlotte

  His lips are less than an inch from mine, but he doesn’t kiss me. Instead, he hovers and I can almost feel the electricity build up between us. Like how you can feel the static charge in the air right before a lightning storm. I feel the heat of his breath as he looks into my eyes.

  “I can’t believe it’s you,” he murmurs, “I mean, I see it now. In your eyes. But I had no idea,” he holds me perfectly still with his stare. The same green eyes that would stop me dead in my tracks when I was thirteen haven’t lost their power over me when he was my first crush. As his presence crushes my will to move, I wonder why they use that term, crush. I think it’s because people think it sounds cute and innocent, like a crushed velvet dress or like a drink you would order in a soda shop in years gone by.

  “You haven’t changed a bit,” my mouth is dry and my breathing is jagged as he holds me under his power. “You still look the same as the guy I fell for as a girl,” I remember how devastated I was when he left for the military. How I never thought I could get through another day without seeing him. Maybe that’s the real reason they call it a crush. Because of how it crushes your heart and soul when the love isn’t returned.

  “Well, you are all grown up Lottie, I mean Charlotte. You’re even using your proper name now, unless that was just a play so I wouldn’t recognize you?” He purposely drifts his lips only a quarter inch from mine. The charge between us is growing, I can almost hear the crackle of thunder in the air.

  “No, it’s what I go by now,” I answer truthfully.

  “Well, it suits you. You definitely grew up,” his eyes lazily lick my body, resting down on my breasts.

  Connor suddenly yanks my shirt up and I throw my hands in the air obediently as he strips me. “You didn’t have these,” he tosses the blouse to the floor and squeezes my tits together in his large hands.

  With one hand, he unsnaps my bra and I let it fall from my shoulders and slide down my arms, revealing my ample breasts to him.

  Co
nnor runs his thumbs over my nipples, like he’s admiring a fine piece of art, then he leans over me and gently nips one before letting his tongue soothe the momentary pain. I close my eyes and lean my head back against the door, succumbing to the pleasure, to the fantasy come true, to him.

  “And you definitely didn’t have this sweet fucking ass,” his hands glide down over the small of my back and his fingers dig into my full-figured flesh making my pussy quake with desire. His hands continue to travel down over the backs of my thighs, circling each one easily, he lifts my legs up and open and I wrap them around his waist moaning softly as the hard ridge of his cock presses into me.

  Connor scoops his hands under my ass and carries me across the floor, his mouth is still devouring my nipples and with every step I can feel his cock press into me, reminding me of how good it felt to have him inside me. To feel him stretch out my walls. To feel him take what is his.

  Connor walks to the couch and I expect him to plop me down on it, but instead he sits down and pushes me up until I’m standing in front of him, my feet on either side of him, my pussy at his face.

  “I’m can’t wait to taste you,” he unbuttons my jeans and tugs the zipper down. I help him free me from the denim and lace underwear I thought he might like underneath. Turns out he couldn’t care less about my frilly, pink panties. He only wants what is under them, and I can’t wait to give him what he wants.

  I kick the fabric from my foot and Connor digs his fingers into my ass again, but this time, he circles my round cheeks, pushing into my flesh, into my crack, and pulls me toward his mouth. I open my stance and my eyes roll back into my head as his tongue delves into my pussy. He takes a long lick of my slit from my center to my sensitive nub and back, like he’s savoring me.