Riding Lil' Red Hard

by Eddie Cleveland

  My cheeks blaze as I spill my confession. I don’t expect Gabe to understand what I mean. I don’t think he will really get it, I probably just sound crazy to him. He looks over my face and the anger I saw behind his eyes disappears. His hand laces up through my hair and he pulls me into him, kissing me deeply. Our tongues dance against each other as I sigh into his mouth.

  “Well then, I guess if that’s what it takes to make you realize how gorgeous you really are, I’m gonna need to start making you cum a whole lot more,” his hands circle my ass and he drags me across his lap until I’m back on his cock.

  “Is Erik Fisher back together with his ex? Only we’ve got the exclusive story coming up for you next!” The television blares behind me and I whirl my head around like an owl to see the screen.

  Um, what?

  “What’s wrong?” Gabe asks, but I just wave my hand at him, unable to speak as I lean over the chair and fumble on the floor for the remote. Once I clutch it in my hand, I crank the volume just as my face appears on the screen in a split shot next to Erik’s.

  “No,” I whisper the word.

  “Well it looks like Erik Fisher and his ex-girlfriend Vanessa Parker might be a lot more than just hot lovers in their upcoming movie together. We have it on good authority that the two are spending a lot of time heating things up on and off the set,” the aging plastic Barbie entertainment anchor reports.

  “That’s just great, Mary,” the dark haired man standing next to her flashes his ultra-white teeth. “There’s nothing we enjoy more than a good love story,” he chuckles.

  “No!” I yell at the screen and stand up from Gabe’s lap. “What the fuck kind of authority do they have that on? Are they just pulling stories out of their ass now?” Suddenly I remember the invitation for drinks and the dick pic that Erik sent me and it dawns on me. He probably called in that hot little tidbit himself. “That fucking douche,” I mumble.

  “I don’t understand, so what’s the big deal? Just call Fiona and tell her to set them straight,” Gabe stands up behind me and runs his hands down over my arms.

  “I can’t,” I sigh.

  “Why not?” He steps back and I turn and face him, feeling older and more tired than ever.

  “Because with stupid crap like this, it’s best not to say anything. If you go out with guns blazing, it just feeds the story. If you leave it alone, it goes away quicker,” I shake my head.

  “Oh, well, just ignore it then. Who cares what they think?”

  I know I shouldn’t, but I do. I hate anyone thinking that Erik and I are back together. I hate anyone, but especially Erik thinking there’s any hope in hell of that happening. “You ready to go home?” I’m feeling deflated, like a balloon that all the air leaked out of.

  “If that’s what you want to do,” Gabe sets his jaw and looks down at me.

  “It is.”

  23|Gabe

  “I’m starving!” Vanessa announces as she plops her keys into a decorative dish on a small table by the door. She kicks off her shoes and beelines for the fridge.

  “I think we all are.” I look over at Axle, “Are you, hungry boy? You wanna eat?”

  He tilts his head and opens his mouth slightly as he listens for the magic word. “Axle do you want some food?”

  That does it, he’s prancing around at my feet, his nub twitching with excitement and he starts to pant happily. “Alright, give me a sec and I’ll get your supper,” I lean over and pet him, patting my hand on his back a couple times before following Vanessa into the kitchen. I grab a small can of wet food from under the counter and a can opener, while she holds the door open and frowns into the fridge stuffed full of pre-made meals in clear plastic containers. Opening his can of beefy food, I look over at Vanessa.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Ugh,” she groans and slumps against the open fridge door, defeated. “I don’t want to eat any of that crap, it all tastes like cardboard. I mean, it’s bad enough that on set, I have to watch everyone else stuff their faces with donuts and snacks, while I drink smoothies. At the end of the day you just want a real meal, you know? Something satisfying,” she looks over at me. Am I imagining things, or did her eyes just drift down? Maybe she’s looking for other ways to find satisfaction too.

  “I don’t know what to tell ya. You know what I think of your diet,” I dump out Axle’s food into his dish and grab a scoop of dry dog food from the bag under the sink, mixing it in. I know he’s spoiled, but he’s a great dog, so he deserves it. Even now, he just sits patiently waiting for me to put his meal together. If I plopped the food right under his nose, he wouldn’t move a muscle until I told him to.

  I take his dish to the entry and lay it down beside his water bowl, “Go ahead Axle, go eat,” he races over to my feet and begins to chow down. When I walk back into the kitchen Vanessa is smiling broadly and pulling out flour and eggs and a bunch of other ingredients.

  “What are you doing?” I can see she’s on a mission, grabbing bowls and pans from all around the kitchen.

  “Did I ever tell you that I’m an amazing cook?” she smiles over her shoulder at me.

  “No, you’ve never mentioned it,” I walk up behind her and wrap my arms around her. She turns around and faces me, her eyes sparkling.

  “Well I am. I don’t mean a mediocre cook either, I mean I’m a whip-up-a-masterpiece kinda cook, and I’m about to blow your mind,” she smiles.

  When she looks at me like that, my mind isn’t exactly what’s aching to be blown. But I can see she’s really revved up about making this mystery meal, so I’m going to keep my dirty thoughts to myself.

  For now.

  I mean, there’s always room for dessert, right?

  “My mom always says you can’t trust a skinny chef,” she laughs as she cracks her eggs into the bowl and beats it together with a fork. “So, I guess that means you can trust me,” she measures out some flour and sprinkles it in on top of the whisked eggs.

  “Don’t do that,” anger twists up inside me.

  “What?” She turns around to face me, her brown eyes wide and studying my expression.

  “I don’t know what asshole told you that you were fat or whatever, but it’s bullshit,” I answer her through gritted teeth. “You’re the most natural beauty I’ve ever seen, you blow all these other Hollywood types out of the water, and your curves are part of that. There’s no guy in the world who would look at you and think you are fat. None. They might think a lot of other things, mostly what they’d want to do to you, but that’s it. Stop buying into the bullshit,” I step into her and wrap my arm around her waist, pulling her as tight to me as our clothes will allow. “You’re fucking stunning,” my anger slides away as desire flares up inside me.

  “Thank you,” she looks up at me shyly, like she’s not used to hearing these words. I’m not sure how that can even be possible. It kills me to think that she’s locked up in a career that seems to delight in tearing her down. It destroys me even more to see that it’s working.

  “Don’t thank me,” I slide my hand slowly down her back, enjoying the softness of her skin against mine. I love how her ass bubbles out, full and firm, it’s perfect. I give it a sharp slap and she yelps. “Now what are you whipping up here?”

  She steps back and rubs her hand over her tender bottom pretending to sulk. “I’m making us chicken alfredo, all fresh. No boxes or cans or anything like that. From scratch,” she beams at me proudly.

  “Sounds incredible, where did you learn to make all this stuff?” I watch as she goes back to mixing up the dough that she’s formed up in the bowl.

  “Mostly my mom, she’s practically a chef. Not professionally, but she’s just so good.” She rolls the dough into a ball and puts it in the bowl.

  “Nice, I can’t wait to meet her sometime,” as soon as I say the words I clamp my jaw shut. I don’t mean for her to introduce me to her parents. Why did I say that?

  Vanessa looks at me and raises an eyebrow wordlessly. She squints li
ke she’s trying to read some tiny text off the wall behind me and then wipes off her hands and starts walking out of the room. “I will be right back,” she calls over her shoulder, leaving me to marinate in my own awkward small talk gone bad.

  I look over at Axle and even he seems to be giving me a knowing look that says, “What are you doing?”

  “I don’t know, it just kinda slipped out,” I sigh and shrug. “Maybe I’m more exhausted than I thought,” I give my excuses to my German Shepherd like he’s grilling me on the stand.

  “Who are you talking to?” I turn back to the kitchen door and my jaw flops open like a cartoon. Standing in a flattering, lace and silk teddy is Vanessa. My eyes travel across her beautiful face and down her neck. Her tits are pushed up, threatening to spill over the top of the black lingerie. It’s formfitting across her belly and then ruffles out into a tiny, peek-a-boo skirt that only barely covers her ass. I gaze at the bright red ribbon that threads through the front and stops in a perfectly tied bow right at her hip. I know if I tug that ribbon free, the teddy will fall open like expensive wrapping paper on the most tantalizing gift a man could imagine.

  Suddenly my mouth is watering and it’s not for dinner. I walk across the floor to her, each step slow and deliberate, but just as I reach her she scurries back over the counter, grabbing an apron and puts it on over top, tying it up quickly.

  “Would you be a doll and grab a bottle of Riesling from the wine fridge,” she nods over to the glass fronted fridge under her counter.

  Like I’m going to follow her gaze.

  Like there’s any chance I’m going to take my eyes off her.

  “Gabe?” She interrupts my dirty thoughts about how I want to bend her over this counter and rip her panties off, shoving my cock inside her so hard she would have trouble walking on set tomorrow.

  “Uh, yeah, sure,” I reluctantly tear my eyes off of her and pull out a bottle of wine as she mixes some heavy cream and spices in a pot on the stove. I saddle up to her, grinding my cock against her ass as she’s pressed into the stove, she knows she’s driving me crazy and she’s loving every second of it.

  “First we need to have supper, then dessert,” she murmurs. “Would you mind frying up some bacon? I’m not really dressed for it,” she presses her ass back against me and my cock throbs. I slide my hand down over her hips, holding her tight to me. “Gabe? Can you cook the bacon?”

  I groan and pull myself away from her. She’s torturing me and she knows it, but I’ll play her game for now. Because I’m going to make her beg me for every inch of this cock later.

  24|Vanessa

  “That was incredible,” Gabe puts his fork down across his empty plate and swallows the last mouthful of wine from his glass.

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” I rub my index finger over the rim of my glass, smiling. I can tell that he loved the meal, but there’s still a hunger in his eyes that isn’t satisfied. It won’t be until he devours me too.

  Butterfly wings tickle my insides as worry pierces the lust-filled fog in my brain. The sex we had at the club was unlike anything I have ever experienced before. What if it was unlike anything I can ever experience again? What if my first orgasm wasn’t just from Gabe, but the whole scene? Maybe it was also the club that brought me to climax, being surrounded by people fucking and kissing and sucking while being watched by an entire loft of strangers all while he brought me to heights I’ve never known before. What if that was a one-time thing and it was just as much the sex club as it was him? I don’t want to give myself to him again and disappoint both of us if I’m back to the same problem I had before.

  “Do you want some more wine?” I reach for the new bottle I just opened since we went through the first one just while we made dinner, and try to focus on something else. Sitting here worrying isn’t going to get me to relax. I have had enough problems with trying to cum without adding all this pressure to it.

  “No, I only want one more thing,” a flame of desire flickers behind his bright blue eyes, “you.”

  I swallow hard and abruptly stand up, awkwardly trying to do something to avoid that look. It’s not that I don’t want him, I can barely breathe when I look at him because my body is so tightly coiled in anticipation of his touch. I have never wanted anyone in my life this badly.

  Ever.

  I just can’t stand to disappoint him. I would be humiliated if after what we shared, I went back to sex being something that is a lot of motions that don’t do anything for me and that lead to nothing. Sure, I could fake it if I had to, but I feel like he’d take one look at me, one look in my eyes, and he would know.

  “I should get these dishes cleared up,” I announce too loudly, my hands trembling as I reach for his plate.

  Gabe circles his fingers around my wrist and stands up, he pushes the plates out of the way, pressing into my ass. I can feel his rigid cock ready for me. My heart whooshes in my ears and my throat goes dry. I try to push down my anxieties, but I can’t.

  His hands flatten over my hips and he turns me around effortlessly to face him, “The only thing I’m hungry for is your sweet pie,” he murmurs as he sucks my earlobe in over his lips and tenderly flicks it with his tongue. A million tiny currents of electricity seem to buzz from my earlobe and spread down through my body, shooting across my nipples and making them taut under my flimsy lingerie. Even more exhilarating jolts travel through me, down across my belly and straight to my pussy. I can’t help the weak mewling sound that escapes my lips. Desire floods my core and makes my mound slick with my juices.

  Gabe leans me back on the table, stepping between my legs as my back is pressed flat against the cool hardwood. He towers over me, his thick, brawny shoulders look so wide as he leans over, letting his hands explore my curves. He pushes my tits together and then slides his palms down over my belly, stopping at the red ribbon on my hip. I shimmy up onto the table a bit more and I can see the flickering flame in his eyes explode into a raging inferno of need. I raise my arms up over my head and my breasts push forward as my back arches, my fingertips reach out until they grasp onto it. I grab the dew-covered bottle of wine and roll over off the table, clutching it with a smirk.

  “Not so fast,” I tease him, “first I think we could use a little swim.” I walk backwards to the patio door and open it behind me before turning around and scurrying out to the pool. I gently place the wine bottle at the side and see him walk through the door, closing it behind him. Before Gabe has a chance to reach me, I step into the pool, with my teddy still on. The water rushes up to meet me as I disappear under the surface. Bubbles pop around me and I give a little kick, coming back up for air just in time to see Gabe strip all his clothes off, his huge cock swings, completely erect, like a pendulum. I gulp as he cannonballs into the water and a big, rippling wave splashes me in the face.

  I swim over to the side and grab the bottle of wine, taking a sip straight from the bottle. Gabe pops up from the water beside me and I hand it over to him, watching him closely as he takes a long gulp.

  He puts it back down on the tile and wraps his broad hand around the back of my head, pulling my lips into his kiss. The tension inside me melts away as I taste the wine on his tongue and our bodies press together.

  I pull back and look at him closely.

  “What is it?” He tilts his head and flicks some drops of water from his neat brown hair.

  “I just, I mean, I know it’s not my business or anything, but I keep wondering what got you into the lifestyle you’re in. I don't want to sound like I’m being judgy or jealous, but, why do you go to those clubs? And, well, if you and I keep doing this, are you going to stop?” I can’t look at him. I don’t want him to see how much his answer could hurt me.

  “Is that what you want Vanessa? Do you want this to be more?” I can feel his eyes on me, but I still don’t look up.

  “Yes,” I whisper. “I do.”

  “Then if I go to another one again, it will only be because you want me to fuck you like
I did last night,” he murmurs and leans in for another kiss.

  I bite my lip as memories flood my mind, overwhelming my senses. “Gabe,” I look up at him finally, the question still nagging at me, “why did you start going to them in the first place?”

  Clouds roll over his sky-blue eyes and he frowns. “When I went to Afghanistan, I was engaged,” he confesses and for some reason it really surprises me. I guess I never thought of him as someone who would’ve tried to settle down before. “But she was definitely the wrong girl, even before she cheated on me, even before she left me because of this,” he touches his hand to his scars and I can see the sadness in his eyes. “We didn’t really love each other, so it didn’t take much to make it all fall apart.”

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

  “Don’t be,” he shakes his head. “After that I went on a few dates and got set up a few times but it was always the same, as soon as they saw my fucked up face the date was dead in the water. It sounds vain, but it was crushing.”

  “I can understand that,” I nod.

  “So, when a buddy told me about these clubs, I kept ignoring him and putting it on the back burner of my mind. I never thought I’d really go, but after a particularly shitty date where the girl left as soon as she saw my scars, I said fuck this scene and went that night. And, for the first time, no one was looking at my face. No one cared if I’d been to war or asked about my scars. It was about one thing, and it made me feel less broken. At least it did for a while.”

  “I get that,” I slide my hands over his shoulders and hold him against me tightly. His body is warm against mine and so inviting. “I don’t care about those scars Gabe,” I rest my forehead against his and he closes his eyes. “I still think you’re beautiful, and not just that ‘beautiful on the inside’ crap either. I think you’re sexy as fuck. No scars can take that from you.”