“Good morning baby,” he mumbles in a sleepy voice and pulls my body back into his.
“Good morning. I need to get up and put on some warm clothes. I’m freezing,” I tell him as I try to get up again.
For the second time Nixon tightens his hold on me, but this time he throws his leg over my knees.
“I’ll keep my girlfriend warm if she’s cold,” he whispers between kisses to my neck, sending a chill down my spine.
“Oh yeah? How do you plan on doing that exactly?” I ask, baiting him.
Instead of answering me, his hands begin to travel across my body. One slides upward and latches onto my cold breast, warming it almost instantly. The other drifts down to my hip then skims around the front of my thigh.
Just before his fingers can make it to the place I need them the most, the entire tent starts shaking, startling us both out of our lust filled haze.
“Come on you two, up and at ‘em. I know you had a sweaty, tiresome night of sexy times, but we want to hit the dirt at some point today without having to wait for you two to do it seven more times,” Harlow jokes, and then we can hear Ryan, Gunnar and Kyle laughing not too far away.
Nixon chuckles and I sigh when I realize she is right. We came out here to ride and that’s what I want to do, so I sit up and search for my clothes.
Nixon groans behind me before speaking. “God even your back is sexy. Are you sure we can’t just stay in the tent all day and let them go ride?”
I giggle and turn to look at him.
“Why did we drive ten hours into the desert just to have sex in a tent? We could have done that at home. Come on, get up and dressed so we can go explore Moab.”
He lets out a frustrated huff and stands up, all his naked glory on display. I swallow back the lump of disappointment at the thought of missing out on hours of sex with this gorgeous man and try to focus on the real reason we came out here.
We both get dressed in riding pants and boots, but Nixon wears a long sleeved riding shirt and I put on a hot pink tank top.
Stepping out of that tent was nothing short of a small miracle for me considering that all of our friends had heard us having sex last night.
“Good morning Scremmie,” Gunnar drawls in that sexy accent that makes me swoon.
“Morning Naked Gun,” I tease back with the nickname I gave him last year when he and I spent an entire weekend naked in a hotel room.
Nixon pokes me in the ribs lightly, reminding me who I am with now, and I turn my eyes to him and smile.
After Nixon and I grab a small breakfast, we all don our protective gear and mount our dirt bikes then set off to explore the awesome terrain of Moab.
Four hours, two red rock bowls ridden, and countless boulders jumped and driven over later, we all decide to head back to camp for lunch.
After a filling lunch of hamburgers and potato chips had been consumed, everyone starts mounting their bikes, but Nixon is purposely slowing his movements.
“You guys go ahead. Emmie and I will catch up to you in a bit,” he tells Kyle, causing the guys to pat him on the back and Harlow and Avery to roll their eyes.
Avery had been a bit distant today, probably upset that she didn’t get Nixon’s attention considering just how hard she was working for it last night around the fire.
At least she has her pick between Kyle, who I haven’t been with but have heard he’s got very talented fingers, and Gunnar, who I have extensive first-hand knowledge just how good he can be.
As soon as everyone rides off, I turn my attention back to Nixon and give him my sexiest smirk.
“So, now that you have me alone, what do you plan to do with me?” I tease, grabbing the hem of my tank top and lifting up to pull it off. Nixon puts his hands on mine to stall my movements and then pushes my shirt back down.
I give him a slightly hurt look, wondering why he told everyone to go on without us if he didn’t want to have sex.
He smiles that sexy smile at me and then gets close. “Oh, I’m going to do you, sugar, don’t you worry about that, but I didn’t want to do it here. I want to try something new and I couldn’t have all of our friends following us in order to do that.”
He hops on his bike, pounding his foot down on the kick starter and motioning with his hand for me to jump on the back of his bike instead of follow him with my own. I go along with it, excited to see what he has in mind.
We make a fifteen minute ride to the edge of a canyon, the other side housing the famous red rock arches, when Nixon parks the bike and kills the engine.
“It’s beautiful out here,” I whisper as I look around his shoulder to take in the view ahead of us.
“Switch spots with me so you can see it better,” he mumbles over his shoulder.
I dismount from the back of the bike and Nixon scoots back so that I can sling my leg in front of him and level my body on the seat. As soon as I am settled Nixon removes his helmet and riding gloves, dropping them next to our feet. I follow suit and drop my helmet next to his on the hard, red earth.
His hands wrap around my waist, pulling my tank top up high enough that he can put his hands on my bare skin.
“Fuck, your body is so sexy.”
Everything in my body reacts, tightening and humming all over. I drop my head back, resting it on his shoulder, and he uses his nose to move my low ponytail off my neck so he can place open mouthed kisses to the skin. I release a small moan at the tingles that are flowing through me when his hand travels up to grasp my breast.
“You like that sugar?” he asks as he tweaks my nipple.
“Yeah.”
“God I want to fuck you right now.”
“So fuck me,” I whisper back, turning my head in time for his to come down and our lips to crash into each other.
His hands tighten around me, one at my waist and another at my breast, before his mouth releases mine and moves his hands down to my riding pants and begins undoing them. Quickly.
Before I know it, Nixon is pulling my pants down past my ass and lifting his body off his bike so he can undo his own. That’s when it hits me how he wants to do this and I get turned on even more.
“Let’s move over there,” I suggest, pointing to a clearing about ten yards away that has just enough room between two rocks that the front tire of the bike will fit and then I can use the rocks to add height to myself.
Nixon understands my suggestion and backs the bike up a few steps, and then kick starts it to drive it to the spot, getting us there faster than walking it over.
The vibrations from the bike are doing delicious things to me as I lean my upper body forward and press my sex against the seat, pulling a moan from my mouth.
Nixon must have heard it because he guns the throttle a few times, adding to the thundering between my legs.
Once the bike is parked between the rocks and I can spread my legs wide enough, Nixon takes advantage and rubs his hard erection against me a few times to make sure that I’m wet enough for him to slide in.
When he sees that I’m dripping for him, he rams himself in, causing me to gasp.
“Oh fuck yeah,” he groans and then grabs tightly to my hips so he can pound into me.
The rapid pace at which Nixon is ramming into me coupled with the low vibrations of the bike’s engine I can feel rumbling through me sets me on the edge very quickly.
“Mmm, I love having my cock deep in this tight little pussy,” Nixon says to himself, but loud enough that I can hear it, and it shoves me over the edge of the orgasm cliff.
I gasp and release a small yell of approval while I close my eyes, trying to hold onto the feeling of everything in my body tightening.
A few seconds into my orgasm, I hear Nixon behind me mumble “yeah Emmie, squeeze the shit out of my cock. Grab it tight, baby.”
Then his movements become less rhythmic and more frantic.
About four thrusts later, his grip on my hips goes from tight to punishing and his pelvis stills against me as I feel him empt
y himself into me.
His hold on my hips loosens and his body slumps toward mine as he pants heavily while I struggle to hold the bike up myself.
“Jesus Emmie, how is it that every time I’m inside you I crave you more than I did the last time?”
I wiggle my hips a bit, reminding both of us that he’s still inside me, and giggle. I feel him plant a small kiss in the middle of my back and pull out of me.
We take turns righting ourselves while the other one holds the bike sturdy.
“That’s the first time I’ve done it on my bike,” Nixon tells me.
“Really?” is all I have to say because it wasn’t my first or even my second time doing it on a bike, but I don’t think he’ll like it all that much if I tell him that. He’s already had a hard enough time finding out that Gunnar and I have been together and he hasn’t even had any details.
I don’t think he’d like it if I told him that Gunnar was the one to pop my dirt bike sex cherry.
“Yeah really, but you can bet your ass that won’t be the last time. That was fucking hot babe,” he smiles at me. I smile back but keep my mouth shut.
After we stare out at the beautiful canyon for a few more minutes, we decide to head back to camp so that we can clean up and I can grab my bike.
Moab sure is awesome.
Chapter 22
Our Moab weekend was amazing. We got to enjoy some quiet time with a few good friends and, even though it was still a bit tense when Nixon and Gunnar shared the same air, we had a great time.
On our way back home Nixon either has his arm wrapped around my shoulder or his fingers linked with mine. He is acting like my boyfriend, not like we’re a secret that we can’t tell anyone else anymore, and I am a bit excited to let other people know about it as well.
Nixon drives straight to my house and, after helping me unload my bike and unpack all the camping gear into the garage, walks into the kitchen and starts sifting through the cupboards.
“Whatcha doing?” I sing song, wondering why he hasn’t jumped into his truck and started heading to his house to unload his own gear.
“Searching for something to make for dinner. Does anything sound good to you?” he asks, sounding like this is something he’s asked me ten thousand times.
I’m stunned silent for a moment. Is this what being in a relationship is like now?
My relationship with Eric was simple. We were in high school so I never really had to worry about sharing my space with him. I would see him at school or on the dirt track and I was only seventeen when we broke up, so wondering what it would be like to have him at home with me was never a concern.
Pete was a bit different. We’d committed to each other and were both out of our parents’ homes. I was living at the dorms on campus and he was at his fraternity, so we were in each other’s spaces every once in a while, but it was nothing like this.
This was my own home and Nixon was staking a claim on my space. This was something I wasn’t used to from other people, but I’d have to get used to it pretty fast if I wanted this relationship to work with him.
And for some reason I really wanted this to work.
“Uh, I’m good with whatever. I can make something or we can order something in if you want,” I tell him.
“How about spaghetti?” he holds a box of noodles in the air and gives them a shake.
“Sounds good to me. How about you go jump in the shower and I’ll get dinner started.”
He puts the noodles down on the island and starts toward me, licking his bottom lip before he stops in front of me and wraps his arms around my body.
“Why don’t we both go shower now and then we can make dinner together after.”
“Hmm,” I mutter as he uses his body wrapped around mine to steer us toward my master bathroom.
Before we can make it into the room, I hear my front door open and we both freeze.
“You expecting someone, babe?” Nixon whispers in my ear. I shake my head as a non verbal answer to his question.
“Who the fuck is here then?”
I turn my head and narrow my eyes at his accusing tone. He makes it sound like I have different people walking in and out of my house at all times.
“Emmie Lou,” I hear my dad shout from the living room and slowly let out the breath of air I was holding in.
“It’s my dad,” I mumble to Nixon and walk out of his grasp toward my father, hoping Nixon just goes to shower while I deal with him.
“Hey daddy what are you up to,” I say, trying to sound casual but probably failing when I see my dad’s head tilt to the side to examine me. He either buys my laid back tone or decides not to question me about it.
“I was just bringing Otis back home. You know I love that dog but he’s just too damn big. I run into him every time I move around my kitchen,” he jokes.
“Awe come on, Otis loves hanging out at grandpa’s house,” I tease and give Otis a small ear rub before he takes off toward my room, probably in search of Nixon.
Dad groans. “Please stop talking about the dog like he’s my grandchild. You can do that when you actually give me grandchildren Emmie Lou.”
I giggle and start walking toward my dad for a hug, but before I make it to him, his body turns statue still.
This can only mean one thing. The one thing I was hoping wouldn’t actually happen.
“Hello Sir,” I hear Nixon’s deep voice behind me and I turn slowly, confirming that he came out of my bedroom to meet my dad.
“Emmie?” dad says.
Crap, now I have to explain this. I was hoping to avoid Nixon meeting my dad for at least a year or two.
Not that I’m ashamed of my dad, it’s quite the opposite. My dad is just very protective of me and I didn’t want Nixon exposed to the ‘can you provide for my daughter’ talk that he gave to Pete. Talk about uncomfortable.
“Dad, this is Nixon King,” I say, pointing toward Nixon behind me. “Nixon, this is my dad Mark Black.”
“Very nice to finally meet you,” Nixon says and steps closer with his hand outstretched, which my dad immediately takes. By the way their fingers are both turning a ghostly shade of white, I’d say that one or both of these men are squeezing a bit too tight.
“Nice to meet you too, but I have to be honest, I never knew there was a ‘you’ to look forward to meeting,” my dad turns his eyes to me, a look of agitation in them for not telling him I was seeing someone.
“Sorry” I mouth to my dad.
“Well, now’s as good a time as any I guess,” Nixon smiles.
And, as with any situation such as this, things take a turn for the awkward.
Other than the sound of Otis panting slowly at our feet, silence has overtaken the room. Glances are cast everywhere but at each other and I’m sure Nixon and my dad have become ten times more uncomfortable than I am at this moment.
“Well,” I say loudly and clap my hands together “we were just getting ready to start some dinner. Would you like to join us dad? I’m gonna make spaghetti.”
I am almost positive that he’s going to want to get out of this awkward situation as quickly as possible, but when he looks at Nixon and says “I’d love to stay, baby girl”, I’m completely floored.
Shit.
I nod and make my way into the kitchen, both men trailing behind me silently. I roll my eyes, wondering what this is all about, but not liking it in the least.
After I’ve filled a pot with water and set it on the stove to boil I turn to the fridge and start gathering the things I’ll need to make a salad. I look from the fridge to the island to see that Nixon and my dad have both plopped into a chair but are not sitting next to each other. There is one seat separating them and there is no way in hell I’ll be sitting there.
I’d rather stand in the fiery pits of hell for the rest of my life than get between those two men.
After the salad has been made and tossed, my dad finally starts talking.
“So baby girl, how was your tri
p to Moab? Did you get some good riding in?”
I give him a small smile and a nod before I speak. “Yeah daddy we did. We rode a few bowls and found some awesome trails that were already carved out that led straight to some arches. It was beautiful.”
“Don’t forget about that canyon that we found, Em,” Nixon tells me. My eyes go wide at the memory and I can feel a slight blush creeping up my neck.
I’m going to kill him for reminding me of that while I’m sitting in front of my dad.
”You went too, Nixon?” my dad asks him, his tone tense.
“Yes Sir. We drove together.”
My dad’s eyes swing to me and narrow. I think he’s figured out that something big is going on between Nixon and I and he doesn’t seem to like that I haven’t told him about it yet. What was I supposed to tell him, though?
‘Hey dad, come meet the guy that is officially plowing your daughter’ didn’t sound like it would go over well.
Before yesterday Nixon and I were just fuck buddies and there is no way that I was going to tell my dad that.
He’d kill Nixon and bury him under my back porch.
“Who else was there?” dad asks, seeming like he’s trying to avoid talking about Nixon and I.
I tell him who was there with us. He grins when I tell him about Harlow because he’s known her as long as I have and has always liked her. Then when I say Gunnar was there, my dad’s eyes light up like its Christmas and he’s six years old.
“Gunnar Drake. He needs to come around more often. How is he?” dad asks through his grin.
He and I met Gunnar at the same time. Dad was with me at one of my many races and as I was making my way to the track before the race, Gunnar had bumped into me with the front tire of his bike. He apologized a thousand times and then sat next to my dad during my race to help cheer me on.
If dad knew what Gunnar did to my body later that night in my hotel room, he would probably be using a much different tone when asking about Gunnar Drake.
I look at Nixon before answering my dad to see that Nixon’s face has changed and he’s now barely containing his anger.
Down & Dirty Page 15