by Jess Bentley
“Please sir, I’m so sorry,” I say, trying to intervene. “I’ll get you some napkins, and... and... your lunch is on me.”
“Well the beer is already on me,” he hisses, turning to me. Spit is flying. A little hits me on the chin, and I do my best to wipe it away without embarrassing either of us more.
“I’m so sorry, again,” I say, my cheeks burning red. “Spilling the beer was an accident. Please,” I rush to get a stack of napkins, and when I turn back, Kanen has the guy by the shirt collar.
“You apologize to her,” he growls.
“What’s it to you, buffalo jockey?” says the man.
“What did you call me?” Kanen asks. His voice has a tone I haven’t heard before. “I’ve had just about enough of your shit.”
“Kanen is a bull rider, not a buffalo jockey,” I try to say quickly, just as the man says, “What do you care about this floozy anyway?”
Kanen rears back and clocks the man with one punch.
“What are you doing?” I yell, but the whole restaurant goes silent. Lacey grabs me by the arm.
“Just let it go,” she says. “It’s over.”
“What’s over, and why did he call Kanen a buffalo jockey?” I hiss.
“Do you know what that means?” she whispers back.
“Um, no?” I’m completely puzzled.
“It’s racist,” she says.
I’m lost at first. Then I realize. The raven tattoo. The unusual name. He’s got native blood, and this guy is disrespecting him.
The bartender intervenes. “Look,” she says to both of them, her hand on her jean-clad hip. She looks tough as nails, turning her head to Kanen standing there with gritted teeth, and then to the man on the ground rubbing his jaw. “You fine gentlemen can fight if you want, but you’re both going to have to leave here to do it. We can’t have brawls in the restaurant.” Her voice is the steely kind that you can’t ignore, one that’s built on years of practice.
“Yes ma’am,” Kanen says, regaining his composure quickly, but it’s a front. Underneath the cool facade he’s burning up. He tips his hat to the rest of us, looking at me square in the eye. “Charge my account,” he says curtly. “For any damage, and for both our lunches. Sorry for the unpleasantness.”
He walks out of the restaurant, head held high, and everyone turns to watch him go. One person starts clapping, but after a minute, stops. The crowd turns to look at the other man, who’s struggling to get up off the floor, the soft soles of his cowboy boots slipping on the tiles.
“He’s gonna pay for this,” the man slurs, his jaw swollen. “And so, little missy, are you.”
I pull off my shoes. If I’m going to get fired, at least I can stop the foot torture. “So sorry, sir!” I say. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen! I’m sorry, Lacey! I don’t deserve this job!” I run in bare feet back to the stock room.
She runs after me and sees me burst into tears.
“Look, are you okay, Chastity?” she says quickly, rubbing my arm.
“Why couldn’t you have let me serve Kanen in the first place? Then none of this would have happened,” I blubber. “Now everything is a worse mess than it was before!”
“We’ll see.” She rubs harder. “I don’t know if it’s so bad.”
“I’m going to get fired!” I cry.
“Yeah, probably,” Lacey admits. “I think that’s a given. I hope I don’t get fired since I recommended you.”
We look at each other and both start laughing. “You were probably right that waitressing is not your thing,” Lacey struggles to say, through ever-growing peals of laughter.
I wipe my eyes. “Ah well, I was likely going to quit anyway.”
“That’s true.” Lacey grins. “If you want I’ll take the new shoes off your hands. They’ll come in handy whether I get to keep my job, or if I have to start street walking to make rent.”
“They’re all yours!” I laugh, handing them over. “With pleasure!” I wonder where Kanen is now, and if I can still catch up with him.
We hear a knock at the door, and Lacey walks over to open it.
“Lacey, my dear, what is the meaning of all this?” says a large man with a big stomach and a white hat.
“Jim, this is Chastity, our new waitress. Chastity, this is Jim, the owner.” She gestures from one of us to the other. I square my shoulders, there in bare feet, and open my mouth.
“Hello sir,” I say quickly. “Nice to meet you. I quit.”
Twenty-One
Chastity
I push past the owner, as he stares at me with his mouth open.
“That was one of the quickest turnarounds I’ve ever had in this place,” I hear him say wonderingly. Lacey’s quickly saying something back to him but I’m too far gone to be able to distinguish her words.
I’m still in my slutty outfit, and I’m carrying my comfortable shoes in my hands and my purse over my shoulder. I just want to get out of here and away from the embarrassment as soon as possible. Nothing has ever sounded sweeter to me than the click of the door as it shuts behind me. Shielding my eyes from the sunlight, I look for my car in the lot.
Right beside it is a big yellow truck.
Oh, shit.
I pad over intending to go to my car, and halfway there I realize the pavement isn’t getting any cooler and my keys are lost somewhere in my purse. Wrecker’s truck is my only hope. I’m in immediate panic mode. I run the rest of the way to the passenger door, yelling, “Ouch ouch ouch,” the whole time. Did I say something about having a shred of dignity? Because I think I just gave that up.
I knock on the door frantically, dancing around to try to protect my poor tortured feet. Kanen opens it up for me and I jump in.
“Why you dancing around like that, Chastity?” he says, puzzled, until I hold up my shoes. “Oh that’s not such a good idea,” he says softly. “The pavement gets pretty hot this time of year in the Texas sun.”
“So I’ve realized,” I say. “It gets hot in Canada too, but that was unreal. Jeepers that hurts.”
“Let me see your feet,” he says. I cross one leg over the other and I see it’s all angry-looking and burned. He looks at it doubtfully. “That’s not good, Chastity. You’re going to be laid up for a little while.”
“Well that should be no problem. After all, I don’t have a job to go to anymore!” I say with false brightness. My family’s always been into dry humor to deal with problems. “Perfect!”
He looks at me with concern in his eyes. “Oh, Chastity, I’m so sorry.”
His voice is filled with such sincerity and concern that I realize how much feeling I’ve been pushing down while pretending to be okay. I fight back the tears again. His hand goes on my shoulder, and this time, even with the electrical charge between us, the dominant feeling that comes through his hand is concern, and dare I say it? Love.
“It’s okay,” I blubber. “I’ll be fine!” This last ends up as a wail, and Kanen pulls me in his arms and rubs my shoulder as I wet the front of his T-shirt with my tears. “Really, I’m fine!” I say, as his hands stroke my back through the thin fabric of my slutty waitressing shirt. “I’m okay-ay-ay,” I cry.
“Everything’s going to be all right, Canada,” he whispers, softly kissing my hair and holding me tightly but gently in his arms. “Everything’s going to be fine, sweetheart.”
Where did he learn to be so supportive, I wonder as he whispers and strokes and kisses me. I completely relax in his arms, just happy to be taken care of for once. I’ve never felt this kind of togetherness with a man before. He just gives me love without pretense. I look up at him, and he wipes underneath my eyes with his thumb, and I realize my eyeliner must be everywhere. I see that it’s made a big black splotch on his shirt, and I start crying again.
“I’ve ruined your shirt!” I choke out. “Goddamn it.” It feels like the last straw. Can’t I do anything right? Gah! I try to pull away in frustration but he pulls me close again. I can feel by the way his body i
s shaking that he’s laughing.
“Oh Chastity,” he says. “It’s just a T-shirt, and you’re my sweet little raccoon...” Oh man, I must look a treat. I start laughing too. If there’s anything I wasn’t hoping for it’s to lose all my dignity and to look like a complete ass in front of the man I love.
Love? Oh no, Chastity, you’re in for it now. I freeze in his arms. Did I really think that? Oh man.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, pulling away a bit to look at me and then holding me close again. The kisses begin on my head, and then he bends and kisses my cheek, and soon he’s kissing away the tears that are falling, as I realize I’m in further than I thought. Please, treat me right, Kanen, I think as I look into his eyes through the tears that are sitting on my lashes.
“Nothing,” I finally say, and then start laughing again. When he stops kissing me, I realize that my feet really hurt, and it is bad.
“Yeah,” he says. “Those look like second, maybe third degree burns, Chas,” he says, looking again. “Maybe we should go to the hospital.”
“The hospital,” I say slowly. “But my health insurance is pretty terrible. It’s travel insurance, and the deductible is ridiculous. I think I should just go home and take care of it myself. Maybe go to the drugstore and grab something for burns?”
“Well you could do that,” he smiles, “but I think it’d be a better idea if you came home with me.” He pauses. “Because honestly I don’t see how you are going to walk around on those things. Sound good, girl?”
“Um,” I say.
“I think it’s the only solution.”
He puts the truck into gear and looks over his shoulder, and pulls out. When we’re on the road, I examine the soles of my feet a little more carefully. They don’t look good at all, it’s true. They’re red, blistering, and there are tiny bits of asphalt stuck to the skin. It hurts to set them down on the rough floor mats of the truck, so I carefully arrange myself cross-legged on the bench seat.
He reaches over to turn on the radio. “Maybe a little music?” he says, and before long someone’s crooning some old country song.
My burning feet are taking up much of my attention, but around the edges of that attention are the thought of the fight that Kanen and that man had, and the feel of his hands on me. I don’t want to say anything to him about the racist comments, but I know from the way he looked that he was angry, but somehow resigned to being treated that way. I can’t imagine how it must feel. I just don’t want to pry into something that’s not my business, but it occurs to me that maybe he’d like some attention as well. I reach over and tentatively put my hand on his shoulder, and leave it there for a moment. He flicks his eyes over to me and a smile flashes across his lips before he turns his attention back to the road. I feel the flash through my body. This traitor of a body. Ah well, maybe it’s my mind that has always been the traitor. My body wanted him the whole time. I brush a little hair behind his perfect ear, and he leans into my hand a bit.
“Don’t get me started, Canada,” he says. “I won’t be able to stop.”
“I’m not sure I’d want you to,” are the words that come out of my mouth. I think they surprise both of us. Almost imperceptibly he pushes down on the gas, and we’re flying down the road in this beater truck.
When we pull into Kanen’s property, I’m shocked to see that it’s the same route he took to bring me to that lake. I recognize the land, the trees, some signs. Well I suppose it makes sense. He would go to a lake often when it’s near his house. But he didn’t say a word.
He pulls into the driveway close to the path we went down, and as we drive past the ranch lands I notice the grounds closer to the house are well-manicured. There’s a landscaper working on the property. The trees are enormous, and there is a beautiful big house set in between them. We don’t stop there, though. We keep going down the driveway. A sprawling building that is modern, but has some of the old aesthetic of a log cabin opens up to us. We take a circular driveway which we take and park in front of the house. There’s a huge patio, a swimming pool, and flowers everywhere.
My mouth is agape.
“Kanen, is this your place?” I ask, looking around. “It’s amazing!”
“Yeah,” he says. “This is it. Welcome.” He’s not acting very proud, but I’ve never been somewhere so grand, yet still so down to earth.
He comes around my side of the truck and opens the door. “I bet you can’t exactly walk on those feet of yours, can you, Chastity?”
I steel my face, attempting bravery. “I can try!”
“Never you mind that,” he says, and easily scoops me up into his arms. “I’ve got you.”
He effortlessly carries me up the stairs as I wrap my arms around his neck, and the utter romance of the situation does me in. I feel so tiny in comparison to his brute strength. Thank heaven there’s such tenderness in his hands. He could crush me if he wanted to, but instead he holds me carefully, pressing me gently and firmly against him. For a moment I imagine that we’re married, and Kanen is taking me over his threshold for the first time. I shake my head to rid myself of the stupid fantasy and instead just drink in the smell of him, gorgeous and musky, manly and woody.
When we get inside the lovely foyer, I’m impressed by the shining hardwood floors and the spiral staircase, which he takes me up. Is he taking me to his bedroom?
Twenty-Two
Kanen
Chastity’s body is enticing, beautiful, and even in these sleazy waitressing clothes, appealingly, sexily innocent. As I carry her up the stairs I’m breathing heavily, and it’s not because of the climb. I could run up these stairs if I wanted to and never break a sweat. But having her so close is making me hard as a rock. I bring her to my bedroom, and lay her down on the soft white bed. Her face still has a couple of smudges of black makeup, but it only serves to make her that much more endearing.
She really didn’t know what that man meant when he called me names. “No, Kanen’s a bull rider,” I heard her say. I have to kiss her for that one. She holds her hand out to me as she looks up at me from the cloud that the duvet makes around her.
“Aren’t you going to join me?” she asks. I’m powerless to resist her charm, and I lie down beside her, my hand finding its way around her waist.
“Shouldn’t we sort out your feet?” I ask her. Her smile twists a little.
“Yes, but would you mind kissing me first?” she answers. Her eyes dart down to my lips shyly and then back up again to my eyes. “If you don’t mind?”
“Don’t mind?” I grin. “It would be my pleasure,” I say as my hand slips into her soft hair and my lips touch hers. Her mouth is unbelievably soft, and our lips join, our tongues swirl together and apart. To feel her in this way is some kind of miracle. I pull her close to me, her breasts pressing against my chest, our hips coming together. She’s moving against me, softly rubbing up against my cock which feels like it’s been hard for days, and I can’t resist pushing back against her.
“Your feet,” I say.
“They’re fine,” she answers. “They’ll be okay.” She’s practically breathless too, and she reaches around to pull my shirt over my head. I oblige, and then start to undo the buttons of the top she’s wearing, revealing a lacy pink bra.
“Damn, Chastity,” I say. “You look so beautiful.” Her body drives me crazy, makes me burn for her, and I can’t get enough of it. My hands envelop her generous breasts, and as we kiss I pinch and pull on her hard nipples, and she moans in pleasure. Her moans go directly to my cock and I’m a little lightheaded.
“Kanen,” she says softly.
“What, is everything okay?” I breathe. Poor thing has had quite a day.
“Oh, yeah,” she says. “It’s wonderful. You’re wonderful.” She pulls me closer, grinding up against me some more. I can’t take this anymore; I have to have her. I turn her over and kiss the back of her neck and she gets up on her hands and knees. “Take me,” she whispers. “Fuck me.”
I unzi
p my jeans as quickly as I can and throw them on the floor. She’s still wearing her waitressing skirt. I push it up around her waist, revealing her round ass, just covered with a matching set of lacy boy shorts.
Damn. I feel like my cock is going to explode, but I want to savor her body. I take her ass cheeks in my hands and rub them softly, and then pull the crotch of the panties to the side. She looks so beautiful, like a flower waiting for me. I lean down and lick the soft flesh, taking her lips in my mouth and sucking them before running my tongue down to her clit. She’s crying out now, almost sobbing my name as I work her clit with my tongue and then suck the little pearl into my mouth. I lick the whole of her length, and put my finger inside as she moans softly.
“Oh my God, that feels so good,” she says. “So incredible.”
It’s hard to hold back, to tease both of us, but it’s also hard to pull away from her sweet pussy. I lick and suck a little longer until a shiver runs through her and she contracts against my finger. She thinks she’s coming now, but I’m going to give her more. Much more.
On my knees, I take hold of her hips again with one hand, and then guide the head of my cock to her, stroking her softly with the purple head. She squirms and moans, and then moves backward, enveloping my length with her swollen lips. Now it’s my turn to groan as I feel the softness of her bare skin against mine. I probably should have sheathed up, but it's too late now. I can’t stand it any longer, and thrust my full nine inches into her, up to the hilt.
Quivering, impaled on my cock, her pussy ripples wetly and deliciously over the length, and as I pull out slowly, I savor each millisecond of our coming together. In all my years of bedding women, I’ve never felt anything quite like this for someone. It’s not just the incredible warm feeling of her soft wetness on me, it’s the feeling of giving myself over to her, wanting her to feel everything I do. But the feeling of plunging into her is pretty incredible all on its own. I push myself back into her, and her pussy allows me in, so wet and warm and tight.