by Gynger Fyer
She just refused to think with her body where Brett was concerned. It was a matter of necessity. If she was going to give out the milk, she at least wanted to know it was to someone who would eventually buy the cow. That’s why she’d only had two lovers up to this point.
When her last relationship crashed and burned amid lies, infidelity and a disease scare, she had decided to wait. That was a dark time in her life, nearly five years ago. If she crossed that line with Brett where would that lead them? She knew from experience that men said what you wanted to hear just to get into your pants. If she asked Brett to be her one-night stand, he would need to know that it would be just that, one night…okay, for the duration of the trip only.
Her conscience gave her a pat on the back for being upfront with herself. This was only a five day trip, so what would happen when they got home? Would she be his resident booty call? Hell, would he call her at all? With his history, the odds were not in her favor and she was a woman who lived by numbers and averages. She liked to deal with what was real. Deciding to sleep with Brett was not an easy decision for her to make. It would be a gamble, but it was a gamble she was willing to take, thanks to a midnight call to Tia, who had a pro to every con she had voiced about the decision.
She was not sure when she would make her move on him, but she knew timing would be critical. Perhaps she could give him hints and let him take the lead. He had promised to aid her in some of the more sensible items on her list and she honestly didn’t think he would have a problem helping her mark this particular item off her list.
Brett was walking back to the truck when a curvy brunette in painted-on jeans stopped him. Dang! Where in the hell did a white chick get a body and ass like that! She looked like she had been raised on a steady diet of fried chicken, fatback with collard greens, and ham hock-laden black-eyed peas. Grace’s eyes narrowed as ‘Miss Fat Booty’ pushed up against Brett.
“What in the hell…” she muttered. The taste in her mouth went sour as she watched him glance in the direction of the truck with a skeptical look on his face. ‘Miss Fat Booty’ did the same and then turned her back to the SUV. They were too far away to see her face but she scowled anyway. Her hand went to the door handle at the same time Brett backed away from the woman a few steps, effectively putting space between them. He crossed his arms over his chest and pulled at the hair under his bottom lips while glancing over at the truck.
“That’s right, Brett, get away from that tramp. You better let her ass know!” she continued, not realizing she was talking to an empty car. ‘Miss Fat Booty’ stepped towards him again. Grinning she grasped his arm and leaned into him to whisper. His arm seemed cradled in her double-Ds as she laughed and pressed something into his hand, Brett quickly gave it back with a shake of his head. He again looked in her direction and started to turn towards the SUV.
“YES! That’s what I’m talking about. Now, take your whole milk-drinking ass on somewhere else.”
Grace unconsciously adjusted her own twins in challenge, lifting them higher. ‘Miss Fat Booty’ wasn’t even trying to be secretive about her intent. She could see her lips move in a pout that would have made Angeline Jolie jealous. Then she said something to Brett’s back. Brett turned and nodded yes to whatever she said.
“Are you freaking kidding me?”
Brett stood in place and gave a slight smile as ‘Miss Fat Booty’ took his picture. Grace eased back a bit. He was still pretty well known so it was not unusual for him to pose for fan pics. She didn’t like the skanks who were drawn to him like moths to a flame but, she understood the business and how important the “Wolf” brand name was to him, so she tried to calm down.
She had seen better looking fans, but none were so stacked, and it had been a while since she had encountered one so bold. ‘Miss Fat Booty’ quickly forced her phone on an unsuspecting passerby who looked like she was in a hurry to get to the restroom. She wasted no time wrapping herself around Brett, placing her hand on his chest so they could take a picture together. Fan or no fan, this heifer had crossed the line.
Grace saw red; she reached over and blew the horn. In fact, she laid on it, startling the other people at the rest stop as well as herself.
Dammit! She didn’t know what made her do it. She had seen women flirt with him before. What in the hell had gotten into her? She slowly slid down a bit in the SUV trying not to look so obvious. The devil on her shoulder whispered to her: Miss collard greens and black-eyed peas was pushing up on your man and you didn’t like it.
“Shut up!” she muttered to herself. Brett swiftly disengaged from ‘Miss Fat Booty’ and was at the door hopping in.
“Sorry about…”
“Yeah, whatever, we are running late.” Her words were short, clipped. He looked at her with raised eyebrows for a moment before putting the sleek SUV in reverse and backing out of the parking spot. As he started driving, his shoulders began to shake. She had avoided looking at him since he got in the car, but now she had to give in and ask.
“What’s so funny?” she asked as she tried to be nonchalant.
“You, being jealous, that’s what.”
“I was not jealous of ‘Miss Fat Booty’…of that woman. Although you should know that it is impossible that her butt was real. White women don’t have asses like that naturally! It was probably butt injections or some other nonsense. Tia was just telling me about how popular they are now, especially among strippers.” He only laughed harder. She was not amused. Yes, she was taking it to the extreme but she was out on the ledge now so she was going all in.
“First of all, stop hating on white women with asses. I have met plenty of them with real asses and it’s no big deal especially since I’m a breast man.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her while leering at her chest. Her nipples got hard just from that look.
Grace had the sense to feel a bit of remorse for her words…but only a bit. His confession about being a breast man nearly banished all of her jealous indignation.
“Second of all, stop listening to everything Tia says, she’s certifiable. And lastly…you don’t have to feel threatened by any woman. You’ve got me, Grace. I’ve been yours for the last two years if you would even care to notice.”
He was looking at her with those piercing greenish brown eyes of his and her sex clenched painfully in response. What the hell was she supposed to say to that?
At that moment, his cell phone vibrated, breaking the spell. He fumbled in his pocket and pulled out the phone, but it had stopped ringing. He did not notice the tiny scrap of paper that had fallen out with his cell phone. Grace picked it up and scanned the words Call me any time, Misty. There was a heart over the “i.” She balled it up and threw it at the window.
“Hey, don’t litter in my ride,” Brett said with a laugh.
“Whatever,” she fumed as she pictured him sneaking on the phone to call ‘Miss Fat Booty’. She could tell the moment when he realized she was upset.
“Grace, what’s wrong?
“Were you going to call her?” She tried to steel her emotions from his answer.
“What?” So he was going to play that game. She would go along. It was better to hear it up front so she would know how to proceed.
“‘Miss Fat Booty’, the woman at the rest-stop? Don’t play with me, Brett.”
“What in the hell are you talking about? Why would I call her?”
She decided to lay it all out on the line. “Brett, you and I both know, you are not a one-woman man. That’s what I need. I can’t abide unfaithfulness. We’re friends and that’s enough for me.”
“How do you know what kind of man I am? You’ve never given me a chance. I’m a different person than I was five years ago, but that’s all you see, my past. “
She grabbed the paper, unfolded it and pushed it near his face so he could see it, then he started laughing again, only this time it was tinged with sarcasm.
“Let me guess, the rest stop skank slipped her number in my pocket and you think I ac
cepted it from her. What, Grace? Did you think I was going to sneak on the phone and call her? Was I going to hide like a bitch in the bathroom so I could set up a little suck and fuck date? Is that what you were thinking?”
Now he was going to make it seem like she was being silly.
“It was in your pocket, Brett, and if it was planted, why the hell are you yelling?”
“Because I am tired of having to prove shit to you, Grace. I have told you and showed you that I am serious about us, but it’s like you can’t see beyond my past to even give me a fair shot. I’ll be the first to admit, I was wild when we met, but damn, Grace, I am no longer that person. I think you want me to be that person, because if you admitted I’ve changed, you wouldn’t have any more reasons to keep me away. I know you are attracted to me.”
“Of course I am. What woman wouldn’t be? That still does not change the fact that I can’t trust you.”
She expected him to say more, argue his point, make his case, but instead he was silent. The silence stretched out uncomfortably until she couldn’t take it anymore.
“Say something!” she said, exasperated.
“What do you want me to say, Grace! I can’t win with you and I am not going to argue with you. I care too much about you to go there. I am a good man. You should already know that and if you don’t...”
His words trailed off and he stared ahead, continuing to drive.
Grace sat in her seat, feeling isolated and lonely. It had been over an hour and Brett still sat stiff, looking straight ahead. She again kicked herself for her off-the-wall response.
What was it about Brett that made her act so irrationally? Talk about acting like an ass. She had just gone temporarily crazy and Brett proved he was the one with sense by shutting her antics down. She’d never been more embarrassed in her life. She knew he wasn’t the gigolo she’d met several years ago; yet her mind did nothing but compel her to say things that would push him away. She wanted to examine her feelings, but the practical part of her said to let it be.
There was no reason to stir up a hornet’s nest. Right now he was angry, and yes, she was jealous of ‘Miss Fat Booty’; that jealously had caused her to pick a fight with Brett which she was now regretting. How could she chastise Brett when they were only friends? She tried to pull back from that rabbit’s hole because she knew she would not like the truths which it contained. However, her feelings could not be denied. She was in love with Brett. There, it was out in the open. She breathed a sigh of relief, noticing her world had not come to an end from her internal confession.
She’d messed up. She had allowed her insecurities to get the better of her. Even when her last boyfriend cheated on her, she didn’t let her emotions take over like she just had. She’d swallowed it down; not realizing it would come back up at some point, threatening to snuff out a good thing. Now, Brett was angry at her, and to be honest, he had every right to be.
She glanced at his profile. His strong jaw was tight with pent-up anger, and his brow was drawn low. The trip was ruined all because of her. She had to do something. She was torn between just telling him how she felt and keeping it to herself. At this point he was pissed at her, anyway. What good would it do?
Shit! He just said he was hers for the taking. A warmth and rightness bloomed in her chest as her heart picked up its pace. He seemed sincere. Men just didn’t say binding stuff like that to women they knew…right? Why would he lie? No, Brett was not the type to say something like that to her just to get in her pants. Grace rubbed her damp palms against the smooth fabric of her leather skirt, inhaled a calming breath and opened her mouth. Nothing came out. She cleared her throat and decided to try again. This time she picked imaginary lint off of the arm of her pink two-piece sweater set and tugged at the pearl pendant lying against her mock turtleneck.
Licking her lips, her mouth began to move and words came forth. Her brain quickly raced to keep up with what she was saying but it was as if there was a delay. She relaxed and hoped she didn’t botch it again.
“I apologize for what I said. You’re right, I was jealous of that woman. I let it get the better of me and I took it out on you.”
Brett remained silent, keeping his eyes firmly on the road. Grace was not sure if he was waiting for more or if he could care less. She decided to keep going, after all, in for a penny, in for a pound, as the old saying went.
“I do want you…that is, if you still want me to want you, because I still want you to want me.”
She felt like she was in some weird Marvin Gaye song. “Get it together, Grace,” she chided herself as she continued looking straight ahead at the white lines whizzing underneath their car. The Navigator ate up the road, bringing them closer to New Orleans. She was afraid to look at him, afraid to hear his answer.
The SUV began to pick up speed, and then, even more speed. She looked over at Brett in question as he weaved in front of a semi truck on the two lane highway. Her hands went to the door handle automatically as her body stiffened. His knuckles were yellow from gripping the wheel.
“Brett?” she questioned.
He didn’t say a word, only looked in his rear view mirror as he quickly veered over to the shoulder of the highway. The rough caution grooves on the shoulder made a loud grinding sound, warning them they had left the road. They were on the edge now, nearly off the highway surface. The land was flat where he stopped, half on the shoulder and half in the grass. Brett was out of the truck before she could form a question.
Whipping her head around, she watched him circle the back of the truck and come up next to her door, yanking it open. His features were focused and intent as he undid her seat belt.
Man, he was really pissed if he was putting her out. She was about to apologize again, but Brett pulled her face to his as his mouth landed on hers.
Their teeth clinked momentarily before his tongue swept into her mouth. He masterfully controlled the kiss. All she could do was hang on to his broad shoulders as he turned her body towards him and leaned her back. She was still seated, but now she was almost straddling him. Her leather skirt was pushed nearly to her waist as his big, warm hands glided up the sides of her legs, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.
His touch was firm and sure, and she started to come alive. Grace moaned as his hand traveled down her neck to her shoulders and then to her breasts, cupping their melon-like fullness. She felt a fire kindle inside of her body and gasped in awe as his touch heated her very blood.
Grace’s head was spinning as he devoured her lips and neck, causing her to shudder in ecstasy. She could feel her pussy pulse in near-climax just from the way his mouth worked her flesh. His hands were underneath her sweater. She didn’t know how they got there but she loved the rough feel of them. Slightly callused hands massaged, kneaded and plucked her into a frenzy of over-sensitized nerve endings.
“Brett! Ahhh,” she pleaded, needing more.
Her body wrestled control from her mind as it responded to his coarse handling like welcoming an old friend. Her mouth slanted against Brett’s, opening for her tongue to meld with his. He sucked it and nibbled her bottom lip as she groaned and rubbed her painfully hard nipples against his palm, trying to get some relief.
He had her reclined further now, his arm bracing her back from the console which divided the driver seat from the passenger seat. She wrapped her legs around his waist, trying to bring him closer than he already was.
Her calf-length boots stopped her from feeling all of him, but her sensitive inner thighs were being massaged by the material of his jeans. She was being consumed. Her breathing came out in harsh pants as his hand came down between her legs and his knuckles brushed her sex. She nearly came, just from the light contact. It wouldn’t take much to send her over the edge from his touches alone. It was positively illegal.
As if on cue, the blare of a police siren and tires driving on the grading behind them dragged her oversexed body from its hypnotic trance. The cool February air hitting her now-empty th
ighs and satin-clad pussy further sobered her. Brett had quickly pulled her bra up and her sweater down with a look of reluctance in his eyes.
“Sir, can you step away from the vehicle.” The firm voice of the female sheriff’s deputy could be heard over the traffic whizzing by.
“Is there a problem, sheriff?”
Grace sat up fully, pulling her skirt down to a respectable level and crossing her legs at the ankles. A pretty, black female sheriff was standing in front of Brett. Her shrewd eyes assessed the situation as her mouth kicked up on one side, or at least that’s what Grace thought she saw.
“License and registration, please.” The sheriff’s voice brooked no argument.
“It’s in the glove box. I would have to find it.”
Brett pulled his wallet from the back of his jeans pants. He opened it and handed his license to her. Grace watched her scan it, as Brett reached around her knees to pull out his registration. His eyes held humor and he winked at her. Passing the sheriff his registration she watched her assess it as well, waiting for some kind of hint that she knew who Brett was.
“Ma’am, step out of the vehicle and come with me. Mr. McAllister, you can have a seat right here in your vehicle.”
Grace was surprised at the request. Before she could say anything, Brett spoke up. The playfulness he’d exhibited earlier was gone, which made her tense.
“Is there a problem, sheriff?”
“Not that I am aware of, I just want to talk with the lady for a moment. Please wait with your vehicle, sir.”
The sheriff’s hand went to her weapon in a guarded motion. Shit! Was she serious? She could tell Brett was going to challenge her further and didn’t want things to get out of hand so she slipped down out of the SUV on wobbly legs and silently mouthed to Brett that she was fine.
The sheriff waited for her. When she was seated next to her in the squad car, she looked at Brett. He leaned against the seat watching them.
“May I see your I.D., miss?”
“Hughes. Grace Hughes. It’s in my purse in the car.”