Riding Lil' Red Hard

by Eddie Cleveland

  I bite my lip, knowing I might be opening Pandora’s Box, but right now I just don’t care. I still have hours until Sylvia is going to lock the house up.

  “Yes,” I answer simply. “I’ll go out for a coffee with you.”

  17 | Ella

  Jackson and I walk arm in arm down the quiet street. I love looking into all the restaurants and shops at night. Seeing tiny slices of the lives the people inside are leading as the light illuminates them like actors on a stage. It’s almost like watching fragments of movies as we walk by outside in the dark, cool night. This one is about a couple meeting in a bookstore. That one is about the cracks in a tense marriage showing over dinner. Over there is a show about an elderly couple out on a hot date at a pub. I make up the little stories in my head, smiling as I walk beside Jackson on the sidewalk, eager to see where this story goes.

  “I’m so glad I found you. I couldn’t get a hold of you on Tinder and I couldn’t find you on Facebook. If you weren’t at the fair tonight, I had no idea how to get that ring back to you.” Jackson looks over at me. “Did you, um, delete your profile?” He watches my face as I think of a way to avoid the pointed question.

  “Yes,” I answer simply, “it’s complicated.” I sigh.

  For a few steps he says nothing. I can almost hear his thoughts churning in his mind. He probably thinks I’m weird or hiding something. I am hiding something.

  “You’re not… are you married?” He seems to almost choke on the words.

  “What? No! Why would you think that?” I’d laugh if I didn’t find the question so insulting. I know I don’t have a real history with love or dating, but if I did ever find the one, if I ever did commit to a man and promise to spend the rest of my life with him, there’s no way I would ever consider sneaking around on him.

  “Well, it’s just that the ring looks like a wedding band”—he nods at my hand—“and you deleted your profile right after our date. I mean, it just made me think you might be… never mind.” He sounds exasperated.

  I can’t blame him. He knows something is going on and I’m not exactly going out of my way to clear up the details for him.

  “No, it’s nothing like that,” I reassure him. “It’s just that my employer doesn’t approve of the whole Facebook thing, so I deactivated it. That’s all.” I shrug and hope my vague answer is enough for him. I’d hate to ruin this short time I have with him. I’d hate to have tonight end on another bad note. I’m not really lying to him, but it’s not like I can just come out and confess my illegal status. That would be foolish and dangerous.

  Jackson mulls over my words and then stops to a complete standstill. Oh no, he’s not happy with my lame excuse. I guess this is the end of the night after all.

  “What’s wrong?” My voice squeaks as I wait for him to accuse me of lying, or even worse, being some kind of cheating wife.

  “Wrong? Nothing, this is the coffee shop.” He jerks his thumb at the door of Julianna’s place. I was so lost in my worries I didn’t even notice.

  “Oh, I come here all the time.” I light up and swing the door open, practically dancing inside. Behind the counter, wiping off the machinery, is Julianna. Her eyes grow wide when she sees me and she does a double take before checking the clock on the wall. She’s never seen me in here at night before. She’s never seen me in here at any other time than when I go for Sylvia’s daily ‘bitch special.’

  “Ella! You’re out late.” She flips the cloth up over her shoulder and looks over at Jackson. “Oh, are you on a date?” Her eyes twinkle and my cheeks flush.

  I flick my gaze at Jackson, not really sure what to call this. “Um, yeah, I think so,” I answer shyly.

  She laughs and shakes her head. “Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I’m shutting down for the night. We close early on Sunday,” she explains. “But if you want, I can turn the espresso machine back on and make you guys a couple of drinks for the road.”

  “No, that’s all right.” Jackson holds up his hand. Turning on his heel, he looks down at me. “I should probably get going soon anyway. My mom is babysitting Chloe and I don’t want to stay out too late.”

  “Oh, of course.” I try to hide my disappointment, but I’m doing a terrible job. “I understand.”

  “Why don’t you come to my place for a coffee? I’ve got everything there that these guys have. Tea, coffee, great conversation, a sexy ex-SEAL.” His eyes sparkle as he teases me.

  “I don’t know.” I look over at Julianna, but she’s waving her hands frantically, mouthing the word “Go” over and over.

  “Sounds like a magical night to me,” she helpfully interrupts and I shoot her a look.

  “I mean, it is still early.” I play with my ring as I weigh out my options.

  “It is,” Jackson agrees. “And there’s the conversation with the sexy ex-SEAL. Did I mention that?” He grins and I can’t help but laugh.

  “Okay, I’d love to,” I agree, throwing caution to the wind for once. I still have four hours before I need to be back to the house, so why not?

  18 | Jackson

  I pull up at my place and lead Ella to my door. She seems a little timid about coming inside. I wonder if this is all too much to ask of a lady I just met. I mean, she’s about to meet my mother. She’s at my house. Maybe I didn’t really think this all through very well. The idea wasn’t to overwhelm her, just to give us a cozy place to get to know each other that wouldn’t be shutting down early tonight.

  I don’t have much time to worry about it because as soon as I open the door I’m met by my mother’s voice calling out to me.

  “Jackson? Oh, thank God you’re home. I’ve had the worst time trying to get Chloe to sleep tonight. I’m just not sure what’s going on with her.” I can hear Mom making her way out from the living room and down the hall. “She woke up in absolute terror. Let me tell you, it would break your heart, and she told me she had a dream about a spider named—oh my goodness! I didn’t realize you were bringing home company. I’m sorry.”

  Mom comes to a dead halt and closely examines Ella. The worry that was just tattooed across her face disappears and a knowing smile replaces it.

  “Yeah, we’ve dealt with the spider dream before,” I admit. “I think its name is Hampy or something. Mom, this is Ella.” I hold out my palm toward her like I’m offering up a fine bottle of wine. “Ella”—I look down into her huge doe eyes and give her hand a squeeze, hoping she’ll relax—“this is my mother.”

  “It’s wonderful to meet you.” Ella nods her head and Mom smiles up at me like the Cheshire cat.

  “Oh no, dear, I’m just so happy to see Jackson out on a date. My word, how long has it been now? Well, at least a couple years, right?”

  “Mom.” I grind my teeth together and give her a look that’s begging her to stop.

  “Oh, right, okay. I trust you understand how to deal with this whole Hampy thing better than I do if she wakes up again. I’ll, um, yep, I’ll just be on my way and get out of your hair. I don’t want to interrupt your night any more than I have. Just pretend I wasn’t even here!” Mom rambles as she struggles to stuff her feet into her shoes.

  “Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.” I encourage her to make this short and sweet.

  “It was nice to meet you, Ella. You’re such a sweet thing, isn’t she, Jackson? So pretty.”

  “Mom!” I cut her off gruffly and she clamps her jaw shut.

  “Thank you,” Ella answers graciously, watching my mother with amusement.

  “Good night, Jackson. Good night, Ella.” Mom finally gets her wits about her and picks up her purse, tucking it high into her armpit. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” She gives me a quick squeeze. “Oh, I’ll give you one too.” She grabs Ella before she has a chance to react and gives her a hug.

  At this point, I don’t even know what to say. I just wait for my mother to head out the door, watching to make sure she gets into her car safe before shutting the door and shaking my head. “Sorry about that.�
� I cast a sheepish glance at Ella.

  “Don’t be”—she waves it off—“your mother is adorable.”

  “That’s one word for it.” I smirk.

  “Daddy?” Chloe’s wavery voice cuts into our conversation.

  I kick off my shoes and quickly head up the stairs.

  “Coming, honey.” I make my way to her room and realize that Ella is right behind me. I reach Chloe’s door and she’s sitting up straight in bed, completely frazzled. “Hey, what are you doing up so late?” I ask gently as I walk into her room.

  “I had a bad dream about Hampy again.” She rubs her eyes and blinks toward the door. “Who’s that?” She points at Ella.

  “That’s a friend of mine,” I answer.

  “Hi.” Chloe waves. “I’m Chloe. What’s your name?” she repeats the introduction I’ve taught her for when she meets new people.

  “Hi, Chloe, I’m Ella.”

  “Hey, remember I told you Hampy isn’t real, right? You don’t have to worry about him. It’s not a real spider, it’s just a bad dream.” I try to reason with her, but a four-year-old isn’t always the most reasonable creature.

  “No, it is real,” she insists. “I saw him. He was over on my window and he smiled at me, but it was like a creepo smile, like this.” She gives me a sinister look that makes it all too clear why they always use little kids in horror movies.

  “Whoa! That is a creepy smile.” I pretend to jump back and Chloe giggles. “I’ll tell you what. Would you like a glass of water? That might make you feel better.”

  “No, I’m not thirsty, Daddy,” she explains like I’m the child. “I’m scared.”

  “You know, where I grew up there were loads of spiders,” Ella speaks from the door.

  I almost forgot she was even standing there.

  “Really?” Chloe’s eyes lock onto her, sizing her up.

  “Yup, it’s true. And I was really scared of them too.” Ella walks into the room and kneels down at the side of Chloe’s bed so they’re at eye level when she talks to her.

  “So, what did you do?” If Chloe is freaked out by me having an unfamiliar woman in the house, she isn’t showing it. She’s almost acting like she’s totally forgotten about me, focusing solely on Ella.

  “I didn’t know what to do, but my mom did. She used to sing a special song that made all the spiders go away. Not many people know it, but I do. Would you like me to sing it for you?”

  “Yes!” Chloe flops back in her bed, her head crashing into her pillow, as she smiles. “Can you sing it now, Ella?”

  “I’d love to, but just know once I sing this song all the spiders are going to be scared away. So Hampy won’t be back tonight. Did you want to say goodbye to him first?” She smiles down at my daughter and I can’t help the warmth that wraps around my heart.

  “No way! See ya later, stink spider!” Chloe giggles and then goes back to being serious, waiting for her song.

  For a moment, the room is silent as Ella seems to try to recall the words. Just when I think maybe there isn’t a real song to be sung, she opens her mouth and in a beautiful voice she begins to sing in Spanish:

  “Arrorró mi niño,

  arrorró mi sol,

  arrorró pedazo,

  de mi corazón.

  Este niño lindo

  ya quiere dormir;

  háganle la cuna

  de rosa y jazmín.”

  Chloe yawns wide and settles into her pillow, her eyelids fluttering closed like Ella just cast some kind of magic spell on her. I’ve never seen her fall asleep so peacefully after having one of her spider dreams.

  “Sweet dreams, child,” Ella whispers and stands back up, softly padding her feet across the floor over to me.

  “That was incredible.” I pull her into me and run my hand through her long, flowing hair. “You’re going to have to teach me that witchcraft,” I tease her.

  “It’s just a Colombian lullaby.” She smiles up at me, her face so beautiful, her spirit so amazing, her body so perfect, I just can’t resist the temptation anymore.

  “Well, you can sing me to sleep anytime.” I grab her hands and walk backward as I lead her down the hall to my room.

  Ella looks uncertain, but she follows me as I open my bedroom door and flick on the light. “Why would I sing you to sleep?” She giggles and I shut the door behind us.

  “You’re right.” I smirk. “Why sing me to sleep? I can think of much more fun ways to tire each other out.”

  19 | Ella

  My feet are floating above the floor, letting Jackson guide me into his room. My mind is firing off with a million thoughts per second.

  Am I ready for this? What time is it? Do I have to head back soon? Should I tell him I’m a virgin? Am I going to be terrible at this? Should I check my phone and see if Sylvia has been trying to get a hold of me? Are my fingers shaking? How do I stop them from doing that? Why is my mouth so dry?

  “Are you all right?” Jackson’s eyes travel over my face and his fingertips brush the fallen strands of hair from my forehead. “You look a little tense.” He softly drags the pads of his fingers down the edge of my jaw and tilts up my chin until I’m facing him. He won’t let me hide behind my curtain of hair. It’s touching to see that he’s so concerned about me. It’s clear to see that from the flat line of his lips and the slight lines across his forehead.

  “I’m just a little worried about the time, that’s all.” I can’t face the intensity of his eyes. I don’t know how to tell him that part of me is nervous about the hours getting away from me. However, the bigger part, the part that’s fighting the slight tremor in my limbs, is nervous about the fact that I’ve never done this before. I’ve never even been in a man’s room before.

  “The time?” The tension eases from his face and he nods over to the alarm clock next to his bed. “It’s not that late. Eight-fifty-three,” he reads out the red numbers to me. “What are you so worried about? Are you going to turn into a pumpkin if you stay out too late?” He chuckles and threads his fingers through my hair, pulling me into him tight with his other arm.

  I breathe him in, my body reacting instinctively as my nipples grow taut and heat kisses my skin. I might not know what I’m doing, but I definitely know what feels right. This. Being next to him. In his arms. Under his control. This is more right than anything I’ve ever known. Jackson leans into me, hovering his lips just over mine until there’s a tingle between us without even touching. I ache for his kiss. My eyelids flutter closed and a soft moan escapes my lips as he finally blankets my mouth with his.

  His kiss is tender and sweet, like the fresh honey I used to buy at the market in Colombia. But, as he pulls me in closer, our lips part and his tongue finds mine. His hips grind forward and his rigid, thick erection presses into me. The kiss goes from sweet honey to the smoky, deep heat of Aji Picante.

  Jackson walks me backward toward the bed and the mattress hits me unexpectedly behind the knees, making me plop down. I look up at him, breathing in rapid, shallow breaths. My eyes grow wide as I glance down at the shameless bulge in his pants. I want to run my hand over it. I want to open his jeans and rub my palm against his shaft as I wrap my fingers around it. I want to know the power women can experience, the pleasure I can give him, with only my hand. Or my mouth. Or my body.

  “Ella, you’re so fucking sexy. I need you.” Jackson’s voice is raspy as he leans over me, placing an arm on either side of me.

  I fall back onto the bed as he pins me beneath him. I shimmy back, moving up the mattress as my thoughts fight with my longing in a blurry haze. Jackson crawls up from the bottom of the bed, slowly, like a tiger stalking its prey. His thick, ropy muscles flex in his arms as he firmly places one on each side of me and presses himself between my legs.

  A long, involuntary shudder travels through me. Tiny, tantalizing shivers splinter off inside me, traveling out from my spine and through my limbs. A small current of pleasure reaches the tender, swollen spot between my legs and I gr
ind up against Jackson, inviting him to touch me there.

  Jackson kisses a trail down my neck and I push my hands up under the back of his shirt, clinging onto his shoulders as his lips carry on down to my collarbone. His fingers slip up under my sweater, tugging it up until my pink bra is revealed. My breasts are almost spilling out of the lacey cups and he runs his thumb over the edge before kissing a line over the full flesh. His hands push under my back and find the clasp of my bra. He easily undoes the little clips and tugs my sweater up over my head as I raise my arms up for him. My bra slides down my shoulders and Jackson tosses it down over the edge of the bed.

  Before I have a chance to say a word, his warm lips are surrounding the untouched tip of my nipple. “Ohhh.” The word comes out like a song as I arch my back and enjoy the shivers of bliss each lap of my nipple sends shuddering through me. Jackson cups my heavy breast in his hand and thrashes his tongue around each nipple like he’s marking me as his.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispers before tugging slightly on my pebbled peak. Any shyness I felt evaporates as the pleasure shoots out through my body, making me feel beautifully raw. Like every cell inside me has been stirred alive.

  His hand slides down my ribs and into the hollow of my waist before flaring back out over the curve of my hip. Jackson’s fingers ease under the edge of my pants, then my panties until the heat of his hand is directly on my pussy. I gasp, realizing this is really happening, and all the nerves that had momentarily floated away come crashing back as I grab his hand and my eyes spring open wide.

  “What’s going on?” His brows are drawn in confusion and he pulls his hand back.

  “I, well, I don’t know how to say this,” I stumble on my words, wishing there was a less embarrassing way to make this confession. It’s not that I want to ruin this moment or stop, but he has a right to know the reason I’m a trembling ball of nerves.

  “Hey, you can tell me anything.” Jackson runs the backs of his fingers over my cheek and I look into his gray eyes, wishing he could just know what I’m trying to say without speaking a word.