My other hand grabbed at my breast. I squeezed and pushed it. My bra strap slipped off. I kneaded my breast and lifted it out of the bra cup, into the cooler night air. His lips, so strong, so firm, locked around my nipple and sucked as his tongue did to my hardening nipple what our hands did to my clit.
When his big, strong fingers slid inside me and pressed up, my thighs locked around his wrist and I began to shake. His fingers pressed and probed high at the walls just beneath the yearning spot that set the sensations inside me into a gushing cascade.
Under his merciless fingers and mouth I thrashed, helpless and howling on the bed until I was left, shaking, shuddering, and mewling. I felt the brush of his lips as he kissed my trembling tummy. The river of sleep took me under again.
When daylight stabbed my face the next morning, I had no idea how much I had dreamed and how much had actually passed between us under the cover of night. And when he stepped out of the shower, hardly wrapped in a thin towel, with his hair dripping onto his wet, glistening muscles, his face gave away nothing beyond his usual sarcastic sparkle.
The smug bastard.
Chapter Eleven
Ryan
OVER AND OVER I replayed the memory of how fresh and sweet her glistening skin tasted as her nipple hardened in my lips.
The roll of her lovely, soft stomach and the tremble in her quivering thighs as they clamped on my hand and she shook and moaned.
The look of an angel on her face, a hungry, needy angel, taking what she had to as her back arched and she spasmed. The desperate clawing of her fingers and the way her toes curled.
Whether I was right, whether I should have joined in with her or not, I couldn’t say. The sounds and the feelings of the night before played over in my head and it gave me happy memories for all of that day. For sure, I spent long enough lying there, listening to her sweet, smothered gasps and her soft, secret sounds of need and wet friction. For what seemed like hours, I listened as she held back breaths and sighs.
When I gave in and added my hand, my rhythm to hers, I had helped her from one plateau to the next. As I did, I followed her and the journey was one I knew I would always long to take again.
When I helped her to push herself up to that peak, I knew these were moments that I wouldn’t want to forget.
I held on to the images of her arousal as it swept through her body and across her beautiful face. The tightness of her eyes, the sounds she made when she bit her lip. The tides of heat as her hips bucked and she rose to crest.
I knew I would have to hear the sounds of her sighs and moans again, to drive her through a mounting set of explosive orgasms, taste her from inside her trembling pussy, from the base of her clit.
To feel her velvety walls grip and pull on my tongue. To hear and feel her breath shake as she moaned. Feel her shudder with my lips fastened to her mound.
Most of all, to taste her when she came. And to make her come and come until she burst and cascaded on my tongue.
This wasn’t just wanting a woman, when pretty much any beautiful woman would do. I wanted this one, and I wanted her so damned bad.
~~~~
All morning, my phone rang about every fifteen or twenty minutes. It was Gregor every time. Soon enough I was going to have to do something, and my range of somethings was pretty narrow, but I just was not ready to talk to him.
I took slave girl with Tynie to take a look at the Chevelle. The lock up where we kept it wasn’t too far from the motel. We collected the car and Tynie’s tools, left the van in the lock-up, and I drove us out to the old airfield. The military abandoned the place years ago. Now it was officially government property and off-limits, but everyone with a hot rod or a car that they were race tuning took it out to Gallager’s Field for time trials and testing.
We’d had this car nearly two years, Tynie and me. It was the same year, almost the same model, as Tynie’s dad’s Chevelle. The ’71. It was a real classic, Golden Age muscle car, and we were still a ways from a complete restoration, but the way Tynie had the charger amped up and the suspension tricked down, it could literally pour the power onto the tarmac, and we had fat, slick tires that sucked the road and held you through a drift or a fishtail. This was Tynie’s dream car, and we’d both loved it like it was our baby.
When I said we would take her out, immediately Tynie said we should leave Haley behind. Lock her in the garage, or some bullshit.
Tynie and me, we’d been close since high school, but this theme was really starting to get old. I understood. He hated change and he saw Haley as a threat. If I was being truthful, I’d have to say there was something I liked about that.
Not about Tynie being panicked and feeling threatened, obviously, but he would often spot something in a way that other people wouldn’t. I didn’t think there was any chance of Haley being a threat to anything, or even being around for more than a day or so. So I guess I found myself kind of hoping he was right.
As it often turned out, he was right, but in a way that I would have never expected. If I had seen how it would go, I wonder what I would have done differently.
Anyway, the three of us went in the Chevelle up to Gallager’s Field. Tynie knew where the gap was in the chain-link, and he rolled it back while I drove over the turf and in. As always, I let Tynie have the first drive. He was an absolutely genius driver, but the airfield was the only place he could get behind a wheel.
He could only drive where no one else was driving. He couldn’t deal with other people being unpredictable or breaking the rules or not driving in a way that was absolutely logical, at least as he saw it. He got his driver’s license, but the driver’s ed teacher told him on no account ever to use it. Not for anything other than identification.
As Tynie ran the car over the quarter-mile and half-mile sections, Haley helped me time him.
He kicked up a fuss when I took Haley in the car. Even more when I said I was going to show her some moves. She got fast starts easily and hard U-turns. She nearly lost it in a fishtail slide on a curve, but she recovered impressively. I told her she was a natural.
When she clambered out of the car, her face was flushed. Her hair was perfectly messed and the black dress had slipped off her shoulder. The soft top of her breast and her bare shoulder made my cock stiffen. It got so hard, I was sure she slowed and her eyes flickered wider.
Tynie scowled at her and made even more unfriendly remarks as he tweaked the engine. He saw how well she drove. That can’t have improved his view of her.
When we took the Chevelle back to the lock-up, he said something I didn’t catch. Haley was trying to be polite when she said that Tynie was shy. Which is one way to describe how he behaves. He practically stamped his foot when he said:
“I’m not shy. Ryan tell her I’m not shy.” He glowered at her. “I’m introspective and asocial. Tell her, Ryan.”
Then he glowered at the floor near her feet and he shouted, “And tell her I don’t like her.”
My head turned just a little toward him. “I think she knows that now, Tynie.” I kept my voice quiet and even. “Even if she didn’t know it before.” I flashed a grin at Haley. The look she gave me back hit me right in the stomach. I almost choked saying, “Yup, she pretty well knows it now.”
Tynie was quiet for a moment. Then he said to her, “I have to tell you that I’m sorry. Because saying that I don’t like you in that way might hurt your feelings. So I have to say sorry.”
“You’re not sorry, though,” she said. “Are you, Tynie?”
He looked down to the floor as he shook his head.
“I know you’re not sorry. You’re just saying what’s on your mind. You don’t need to say you’re sorry for saying it, if it’s what you feel, and you don’t need to apologize for feeling that way, either.”
Tynie’s jaw worked a little. His eyes flicked up at her, but they went straight back down again. “But people get upset when I say things like that. It hurts their feelings.” He looked to me. “Ryan told me
.”
I wasn’t going to intervene. Here was a chance for the two of them to get straight.
Maybe Tynie could begin to move out from inside the hard shell he hid in all the time. And maybe he might begin to accept her. Stupid ideas. Where could that ever go?
“Ryan’s right,” Haley said, “People will get upset at you saying things like that.” I waited for him to look up. Even for just a flicker. When he did, she said, “I’m not ‘people,’ Tynie.”
And then, after a moment, she said very calmly, “It hurts me, sure. But I’m not upset with you. You don’t know me yet, Tynie. You probably don’t even want to know me. Why would you?” She waited. After a second or two, his eyes came up to hers and then quickly flicked back down again.
“If you got to know me, though, Tynie, you’d see. I’m not ‘people.’ Maybe you’ll find out.”
Tynie looked at the floor for a long time. Then he went into the Chevelle and got out his gamepad. He held it out to her. He didn’t say anything.
Haley didn’t want his gamepad. That kind of a thing, with Tynie, you had no way of knowing whether he understood that or not. All the time I knew him, all I knew for sure was you couldn’t ever be sure. It was easy for her to see what it meant to him to offer it to her, though.
She stepped forward and took it from him. Then she said, “Thank you, Tynie. Thank you very much.”
His shoulders went down. He said, “Do you want me to show you how to unlock it?”
She said, “Only if you want to, Tynie.”
He shook his head rapidly.
She said, “That’s good.”
He looked up at her. “Because it’s true. It’s straight and it’s honest. That’s very important for some people, Tynie. I’m one, and I think you are, too.”
He looked back down. She said, “Maybe you will want to show me. Sometime. Perhaps later. Tell me if you do.”
He nodded.
She flipped the screen. She’d remembered how to make it show her a rolling newsfeed.
We locked the Chevelle back up and I drove us back to the motel. Haley and Tynie weren’t ever going to be best buddies, but he’d stopped picking at her, for the time being.
As we got nearer to the motel, every other car looked like a cop car. That was how I had felt the night before, driving back from the diner. One night in a strange place and I was seeing danger and potential capture everywhere.
Maybe Haley was right. Maybe I should find work that carried less risk. Could be that I would adapt to the life of a fugitive, but it didn’t look like it would come easily.
When Tynie and Haley got out, I said I would go get us some fresh clothes, pick up some things from my apartment. I asked Tynie if he wanted me to go to his place, knowing that he would never hand over the key. Haley wrote a couple of things on a list and I said I would get them for her.
As I drove I thought about her. The women I usually went for, it wasn’t ever a complicated thing. It was more or less, “Hey, baby.” Then a little dance of some sort, maybe a drink. Then a night of energetic fucking. There wasn’t always a whole lot more to it than that. Except when they came back for more.
Haley wasn’t like that. It was unfamiliar territory, and the fact that she could still be seen as my prisoner made it complicated.
Still, she could have said something about last night. “That was nice,” or a “thank you” wouldn’t have gone amiss.
A little set of orgasms like that, some fire in the night, you’d think she’d show some gratitude at least.
For me, giving pleasure was the hot part of the action. What would make her come? Figuring the triggers, the touch and the rhythm that would take her to the edge and over, again and again, louder, harder, and higher each time.
A muscled body that’s rock-hard, endless stamina, and a raging desire are great ingredients. And a cock like a tire iron often helps, I found.
Give her the pulse, the natural drumming that frees her to dance from the inside out. Liberate her, let her release the wisdom of her body, her unstoppable animal intelligence. Make her shout and cry and scream and let out the ancient wisdom of her soul. Her song of lust and need, her cry for the volcanic release.
Never before had I seen a woman in so great a need for the escape and the all-consuming pleasure of a series of well-orchestrated, rising, and finally explosive orgasms. And it was fabulous.
But damn, my balls ached.
They hurt so bad I had to haul up real early into the shower. I thought it would be good to take the shower and hold on to the energy. Conserve the pent-up force. Keep it unfinished. Maybe until I could finish it properly. With her.
But I couldn’t do it. Training the nozzle, running full-blast and stone cold, right onto my cock didn’t shrink that fucker. It would not go down even a tiny bit. It bobbed, long, fat, and painfully hard. It was huge and red and it ached from the strain.
For a while I kept my hands off and blasted it with cold water, but I had to give in. She’d made me need it so bad, it couldn’t be put off another moment. It took just a few seconds and the memory of her scent as her eyes pinched shut and I thought I was going to paint the whole damn bathroom. It seemed like it was never going to stop. Damn.
There was parking open on the street at the back of my building, so I parked the van there and headed in on foot. Down the ramp into the underground garage, I headed for the elevator in the center of the dark, dusty cement floor. Before I started up the four stone steps to the doors, a voice made me stop.
“So, this girl you stole with the car.” The voice was Gregor’s, “Were you planning on keeping her all to yourself?”
Chapter Twelve
Hayley
WHEN RYAN CAME BACK, I saw in his face that something wasn’t right. His eyes were harder. His look was more challenging and he was more closed. Almost evasive, and that wasn’t like him at all. Right away I knew that something was wrong.
The first clue I got was that his phone didn’t bother him so much. Gregor had stopped calling. That raised two possibilities, and only one of them seemed likely.
He had spoken to Gregor and come to an agreement. Really, I wanted to just shrug it off and think, Well, it’s your funeral, Jacker, but there were so many ways it could affect me.
At least, that’s what I told myself. That was my reasoning to stop thinking about how afraid I was for Ryan. I felt sure he’d made a dreadful mistake but there wasn’t anything I could do about it.
While Ryan had been away, Tynie and I pretty much avoided each other. I stayed in the room with the TV. When I went along the landing to get some ice, I saw him on his way down the stairs. I called and waved to him, and he gave me a quick nod.
Thinking back on that, I should have seen how much of an improvement that was. That and the moment of eye contact we shared when I gave him back his tablet. He was difficult to be around, but I was sure that it was much harder for him than it was for me or for anyone else.
The news, on the TV as well as on Tynie’s pad, had all moved on. The stolen car with the missing girl didn’t even get a line in the local news, and the only mention of the robbery was about the guard who was said to be “in a life-threatening condition and under police guard.”
When Ryan returned, his closed off manner said it all. I couldn’t help wondering what he had agreed to, but I didn’t ask. There would have been no point. He would tell me when he was ready. Or not.
It didn’t matter what I thought about what he said or did or the future or anything, though. The thing that rumbled from the back of my mind and drowned out almost everything was the thought of what happened in the room, in the dark. Last night. About how I shouldn’t have allowed any of that. How it was all my fault.
Dirty Driver: Dark Crime Romance Page 11