by Shen, L. J.
I picked up my ball cap, slipping it over my head. I hoisted my clutch over my shoulder again. “I need to think about it,” I said honestly, starting for the stairs.
He grabbed my wrist, stopping me. “Think about it tomorrow. Be with me tonight. Please.”
I glared at him.
He growled, shaking his head, exasperated with both of us.
“Look, I promi—” He stopped himself, clearing his throat. “I give you my word I’ll keep the cobwebs on your pussy intact. But you’re all dressed up, fucking smoking, and it’s probably the first night out you’ve had in a long time. Let’s get a little dirty.”
I looked at his tan fingers curled around my wrist. Big, but gentle. I couldn’t refuse him. I couldn’t refuse him if the world went up in flames—which, for me, it had.
I had no excuse for what I said next.
I knew I was reaching for the poison, taking a generous sip.
“I’ll give you tonight,” I said quietly, knowing he’d already taken much more than we both had bargained for.
We raced downstairs to the second floor. Other than our friends, everyone else had left.
Karlie was chatting up a cute frat boy with sandy hair and Nordic features named Miles by the beer station. Reign was flirting with Tess in the corner, even though her eyes darted past his shoulder, our way, as soon as we came into view.
Max was perched on his soap box, counting money, and Easton was messing around on his phone.
West went directly to Max while I tugged at Karlie’s dress, telling her I was going to split and hang out with West.
The smile Miles had put on Karlie’s face evaporated in supersonic record. “Whatever happened to just friends?” She frowned. “I was worried sick about you. I kept wondering if I imagined your thumbs-up or not.”
I shifted weight between my legs. “You didn’t imagine it. And I promise, it’s just casual, so …”
“You don’t do casual.”
“I can do casual. I’m not allergic to it. I just haven’t tried it before,” I argued.
“And what better person to do it with than the most infamous, popular man on campus, who happens to break noses for a living? I see no potential complications at all.” She gave me a skeptical look that was supposed to bring me back to my senses.
Clearly, I did a good job hiding how far gone I was for this guy.
“Karl, please.” I pulled her into a hug, trying to melt her reservations away. “It’s just fooling around. No feelings involved. Weren’t you the one who told me the ends justify the means?”
“I take it lover boy is no longer all about Tess,” she grumbled, patting my back without much enthusiasm but starting to come to terms with the idea. God bless Mrs. Contreras for creating this supreme human being. I didn’t think I could survive a second without Karlie in my life.
“We cleared that up.”
“Ah-ha. Is that what you kids call it these days?” She pulled away from me, giving me a stern, motherly once-over.
I laughed.
“I’m half-worried, half-morbidly curious. You better call me with all the details.”
I felt myself blushing.
West reappeared by my side, looking cold and apathetic. “Ready, Grace?” He tucked a thick stack of cash into his front pocket.
Grace. Not Texas or Tex. I nodded.
West jerked his chin toward Karlie, Miles, Reign, Tess, and Easton in goodbye.
“Where’re y’all headed to?” Tess called out, sticking her hip out.
“Giving Grace a ride home,” West flat-out lied.
“Wanna hang out afterwards?” Tess smiled brightly.
“I’m good.”
We crossed the road to the food truck silently. There was an unspoken agreement upon where we were going. It just felt right. That Taco Truck was our safe haven.
I unlocked the door and pushed it open, sneaking in first. West locked the door, leaning against it, his hands tucked behind his back, flashing me a rakish smirk.
“Oh, how the mighty have fallen.” I propped myself against the opposite wall of the trailer, smiling back. “And to think your famous first words were you were never going to touch me.”
“Well, Tex, I’m not sure I will be touching you,” he teased. “But you’re still going to come so hard you won’t be able to walk straight tomorrow.”
I slid down the wall. He slid down the door. We were facing each other, on opposite sides of the truck. Maybe not touching each other was a good idea. I was already in too deep.
“Nice panties,” he commented, his hungry gaze dipping teasingly between my legs. I flipped him the bird. My legs were pressed together, and I was hugging my knees.
“Nice try. You can’t see my panties.”
“Black cotton. A little white pearl at the center. Interesting symbolism.” He licked his lips, his eyes trained between my legs. I gasped, prying my knees open and leaning forward to check. I did remember wearing black panties, but not the pearl …
“Hey …” I felt myself frowning.
West burst out laughing. His throaty voice reverberated in the trailer, in my head, in my chest. “Figured you’d coordinate.”
“You owe me a peep show.” I looked back up at him, pushing my lower lip into a pout. My heart was pounding like a maniac.
“Your wish is my command.” He unbuttoned his jeans, his eyes trained on mine. He wanted to see if I would freak out. If I would kick him out of the truck. I did neither.
He shoved his jeans down his butt, but only enough that his gray briefs peeked out. I could see he was fully erect under the waistband. His penis was so thick, I could make out the individual veins snaking through its length.
He stroked himself through the fabric of his underwear.
“Your turn,” his voice was strained. “Trail your pussy lips with your finger for me, Tex.”
I momentarily stepped out of my anxiety, solely focused on the way his hands stroked his manhood. He had great hands. Large and rough.
Running my index over the seam of my sex through my panties, I panted. I dropped my head against the wall, letting it loll back and forth.
“Push a finger into yourself through the fabric,” he instructed, watching me intently. There was something potently hot in watching West watching me doing this to myself. I did as he asked. He grumbled, closing his eyes, now pulling and yanking at himself through his briefs.
“Take it out,” I said.
There was a pause.
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
He let his penis spring free from his boxers. It looked like a giant, raging leech pressing against his stomach. I’d forgotten what penises looked like. Not that I’d seen more than one in real life.
“Pull your panties to the side so I can see your pretty pussy.” He tugged at his own length harshly. I liked the way he said the word pussy. It sounded just dirty enough without being degrading somehow.
I bit my lip. “I’m not … camera-ready down there.”
He chuckled. “A little on the wild side, cowgirl?”
Lord.
“I wasn’t expectin’ a photo shoot.”
Why was I encouraging this metaphor to continue? His laughter danced inside my stomach, but his mirth didn’t stop him from growing even more swollen and hard inside his palm. His penis was way bigger than Tucker’s. Tess and co should be given some sort of a prize for accommodating it. Or maybe medical care. Possibly both.
“Hundred bucks says it’s gorgeous,” he murmured.
“How would you know?” My mouth practically hung open.
“It’s attached to you.”
“Genitals aren’t often described as gorgeous.”
“Your dirty talk game is weak, Tex. Less talking, more showing me your snatch.”
I nudged my panties aside, knowing full well what he was seeing wasn’t a porn-worthy vagina. There was a plume of fine, baby-blond hair covering my opening. It was trimmed, but not completely removed. I opene
d myself with my fingers, exposing my pink insides.
“Oh, fuck.” He closed his eyes, pumping harder before focusing on me again. “Rub your clit for me, baby.”
I didn’t have to be asked twice. Especially as it looked like he was liking what he was seeing. A lot. I flicked my clit in circles, watching a pearl of pre-cum gracing the crown of his penis. My tongue swiped my lower lip. Why was this the hottest thing I’d ever done with a guy, even though I’d gone all the way with Tucker?
Because you never wanted Tucker half as much you want West.
“Texas.” His voice was hoarse. Like he could barely contain all this. I knew exactly what he was feeling. My orgasm crept in on me like a giant wave rolling ashore.
“Hmm?”
“Can I scoot closer?”
“Yeah.”
He dragged his butt across the floor. We were now rubbing ourselves, his penis directed at me, our hands and arms brushing together with each shallow stroke, our knees bumping into one another. It was so dirty and fun. It was everything I should’ve been doing during my college years and missed out on.
West swiped his thumb over his pre-cum and used it to lubricate himself as he went even faster. His forehead dropped to mine. We were closer than ever before, and now my hand bumped into his penis every time I rubbed myself.
“Coming.” His lips moved over mine. The pleasure taking ahold of my body made me delirious. I shook all over.
“Me too.”
I watched as hot spurts of white cum shot from his penis, just when every muscle in my body tightened. We came together, but kept on rubbing, tugging, and moaning.
A full minute after, we still had our foreheads pressed together. Our lips on one another. Our arms hung on the floor like they’d fallen from our bodies. We grinned into each other’s mouths. Everything around us was sticky and damp and smelled of sex.
“That was …” I drew in a breath. “So far away from hygienic. Way worse than you working shirtless. If health and safety dropped by, they’d kick our asses.”
He toppled backwards, laughing his butt off.
“If Mrs. Contreras was here, she’d hang us in town square,” he agreed.
“We don’t have a town square,” I pointed out.
“She’d have made one.” He leaned back toward me. “Whatever, I had a good run.”
“Short one.”
“Not too short for me.” His eyes glittered.
I slid my gaze down, reached for his half-mast shaft, and swiped a finger over the crown. He shuddered and hissed at my touch. I stuck out my tongue, touched my cum-filled finger to it, giving it a thorough lick.
“Hmm.” I closed my eyes, covering my whole finger with my mouth.
He groaned, yanking me into his embrace. We hugged, my head tucked under his chin. He drew circles over my back with the tips of his fingers.
I had no idea what we were at this moment, but it was definitely more than friends. There was intimacy there, no matter how much he tried to deny it. But pushing him to do something he clearly wasn’t interested in wasn’t fair for him or me.
“Promise me you won’t regret this tomorrow morning,” he whispered.
I closed my eyes, feeling a fat, warm tear sliding out of my right eye.
“No promises.”
West
Stubborn rays of sun poured from the cracks of the food truck’s window, making my eyelids sting. I shielded my face from the sun and rolled over on the floor. When I didn’t bump into a small body, I opened my eyes.
No Texas.
I sat up straight. The Clorox scent around me told me everything I needed to know—Grace had wiped last night out of the trailer and scrubbed it clean while I was passed out. Question was—did she wipe it from her memory, too?
I couldn’t blame her if she had. I basically gave her my old no-strings-attached shtick. By scrolling all the way down my bullshit verbal contract and signing on the small print, she’d agreed to never ask for anything other than a dirty fuck. The tragic part was, I hadn’t even had the balls to fuck her. Even though, in all probability, I could have.
But I knew screwing her was going to mess with my resolve to leave her alone.
And I really, really needed to leave her alone.
My fascination with this chick had gone too far, and it was time to back away. Unless, of course, she’d agreed to do this casually, then fuck my logic and fuck my promises to myself. I was going to have her any way I could.
I got up from the floor, looking around me. The scent of steaming brewed coffee and freshly baked croissants filled my nostrils. I spotted them immediately on the counter, right next to a note.
I grabbed the note first—already a bad sign. Ninety-nine percent of men would reach for the food first.
I had to go take care of Grams (it’s the weekend and Marla is off).
Take care of yourself. I turned your phone alarm to half an hour before Karlie and Victor start their shift.
—Texas
I grinned to myself like an idiot. I had no indication that I looked like an idiot, but I sure felt like one.
Stuffing her note into my back pocket, I dug into the pastry and coffee on my way out of the trailer. I was glad I didn’t have a shift today. All I wanted was to take a shower, catch up on more sleep, and maybe hit Tex up later today, see if she wanted to hang out. I spent way too much money when we hung out, on stupid shit like designer ball caps and Frito pies, but it was always worth it. It recharged me. Made Fridays a little more bearable. Or should I say—a little less hellish.
Which reminded me—I needed to send a text message to everyone who worked at the Plaza, warning them Grace Shaw was banned for life from our fine institute. One less problem to worry about.
I whistled on my way to the Ducati and spent the ride home replaying the moment she licked my cum from her finger until my mental tape was stuck. My dick stirred against the hard leather seat, which was unfortunate and un-fucking-comfortable, but unthinking about it was a waste of a fucking good memory.
I was pretty sure even if I died at the ripe age of a hundred, reaping many memories along the way, this would still be the moment to flash before my eyes before I finally kicked the bucket.
I parked in front of the rundown house East and I had rented, taking off my helmet and striding toward the front porch. I stopped as soon as I saw her.
What the hell was she doing here?
My blood simmered in my veins, threatening to melt my whole damn body into a puddle of anger. My molars were a nanosecond from turning into dust, and I could feel my jaw squaring. I put an apple candy between my teeth, not bothering to take my sunglasses off. “Caroline.”
Normally, I’d call her Mother, but I was too pissed for that. She looked a mess. Her mom-jeans and outdated yellow blouse were wrinkled. Her hair was completely gray now, and she wasn’t even that old.
I walked past her. She darted up from the front stair of my porch, following me like a puppy. I hated myself for treating her this way. But I also hated her for putting me in this position.
“What brings you here?” I jingled the key in the keyhole, my back to her.
“You haven’t answered any of my calls recently.”
I could see her wringing her fingers in my periphery, looking down, like a punished kid. My mother was the world’s greatest hugger. Even more than Texas, who I noticed was into hugging her friend Karlie, and her grandmother, and hell-knows-who. Finding the strength not to hug her own son after five years must’ve killed her.
“Finally, your father told me I should get on a flight and check that you are okay. Your wellbeing is more important than money, obviously.”
“I’m okay. You can go now.” I pushed the door open with my shoulder. It creaked in protest. I walked in. She followed me hesitantly, knowing I wasn’t above kicking her out. She didn’t have a suitcase. Good. At least she wasn’t planning on staying long.
She looked around the room. There really wasn’t much to see. It was a t
wo-bedroom house, small and in desperate need of fixing. The living room consisted of a couch and a TV. The kitchen had a retro orange table with four plastic chairs. The gray-yellow wallpaper was peeling, torn at the edges. That was what you got for getting the cheapest place available in Sheridan. And that poor bastard East went along with me. He couldn’t see me doing this to myself without sticking by my side.
Speaking of …
I turned around and flashed my mother a scowl. She knew exactly what I was asking. She raised her palms up.
“Of course I tried to check if he is home. I guess he stayed out last night.”
Translation: East got tail and never bothered hauling his ass back home.
“Surprised you dragged your royal ass here. East keeps you up to date with my BS.”
I avoided my parents so often, East had resorted to calling them weekly, just to let them know I was still alive. He gave them a curated version of my activities, taking out the underground fights, dirty hookups, and public feuds with professors.
“I don’t want to bother him too much.” Mom reached to try to fix my collar.
I swatted her hand away.
“Shame you don’t extend this courtesy to me.”
I got into the kitchen and grabbed milk out from the fridge, drinking straight from the carton. Mom took a seat at the table, trying to shrink into herself and take as little space as possible.
“You haven’t been home since you started studying here.”
“You’re not telling me anything I don’t know.” I wiped my milk moustache with the back of my hand, shoving the carton back into the fridge and slamming it shut. I took a seat across from her. She wasn’t leaving before grilling my ass. Might as well get it over with.
Mom put her hands on the table, staring at them, not me. “How do you like it here?”
“I like it fine.”
“Very up-and-coming, isn’t it? Nice town.”
“Fucking lovely.”
“Think you want to stay here after you graduate?”
“I don’t think past what I want to have for dinner.”