by Carian Cole
“How old is your sister now?”
“Uh... she’s nineteen.”
“How old are you?”
“Are we playing twenty questions?”
“Yes! I’m bored. Just go with it.”
“How old do you think I am?”
I slap his hand that he has resting on my stomach. “You can’t answer a question with a question! You have to wait your turn.” He grabs my hand and holds onto it. “I’m thirty. Now, how old are you?”
“I’m twenty-six.”
He lets out a whistle. “So you started dating your boyfriend when you were fourteen?”
“Yup.”
“That’s really frickin’ crazy.”
“No, it isn’t. It’s called commitment.”
His hand is big and warm. I slowly intertwine my fingers with his, the warmth flowing from him into me. He doesn’t pull away but starts to slowly rub his thumb along the top of mine. I feel tingly, and it’s probably wrong for us to be holding hands, but I don’t care right now. The warmth feels too good to let go.
“Is he the only guy you’ve ever been with?”
What? Did he seriously just ask me that?
“That’s a really rude question, Storm.”
“Why? It’s not rude. I’m just curious.”
“It’s very personal.”
“I’m going to take all this as the answer is yes, you’ve only fucked him.”
“So what, Storm? I’m not a slut. I don’t want to be sleeping with all sorts of men. I’ve never wanted that.”
“I know that. But don’t you ever just wonder what it would be like to be with another man?”
“A dick is a dick. I really don’t have a need for variety. It’s not what I’m into.”
“Variety is good, that’s all I’m saying.”
“Maybe for you, Storm, but I’m fine.”
“If you say so.”
“I don’t say so, I know so.”
“You don’t have to get all defensive. I’m not judging you, really.
He shifts beneath me a bit and leans his head against mine. Being so close to him feels both strange and exhilarating. Part of me wants to get as far away from him as possible, but then a seemingly bigger part of me wants to stay right where I am, enveloped in the warmth of him, and keep feeling the strange tingling that’s running through my body. It’s a welcome distraction right now to feel this instead of the fear that keeps creeping up on me. I begin to slowly glide my fingers up and down his, my small fingers sliding in between his large fingers, then slowly over the back of his hand.
His face is bent down beside mine, his mouth near my ear. “No one’s ever touched my hand like that before.” His voice is soft and raspy, just slightly above a whisper. I freeze, not moving, not breathing. Shit. What am I doing? “Don’t stop. Please.” His grip on my hand tightens a little, not wanting me to pull away, which I am definitely thinking of doing. Our hands begin a dance of silent caressing, our fingers tangling, traveling slowly up and down the length of each other’s—and honestly, I’ve never felt anything so sensual in my life.
I couldn’t stop if I wanted to.
He moves his leg slightly and my body moves with him. That’s when I feel his cock pressing against my ass. A tiny gasp escapes me, and I freeze for a moment, but he gently pushes against me, his head still bent down against mine, brushing his nose gently against my ear. He feels huge and hard against me, and I can’t stop myself from arching back slightly and rubbing against him. The faint erotic groan that comes from this massive muscular stranger behind me ignites something in me I don’t even recognize. His left hand moves slowly down my side and rests on my hip, gently pulling me against him as he grinds against me. I can’t lie. He feels incredible even through his jeans. I close my eyes and lean back further, my head resting on his right shoulder, the side of his face still buried in my hair. Our right hands are still clasped together. He slowly guides our hands between my legs to gently rub against my pussy through the thin material of my slacks. Holy damn shit. A surge of a thousand tiny lightning bolts races through my body.
He slowly moves his hand away from mine. “Touch yourself,” he whispers in my ear as he rests his right hand on my other hip, slowly pulling me back against his cock to meet his subtle thrusts against me. I am so turned on that I feel delirious and dizzy. I unbutton my slacks, pull the zipper down and slide my hand down under my panties. I begin to rub my clit in slow circles while arching my back against him and pressing his hard cock further against my ass. My mind goes blank as we grind against each other, my finger lost in the wet folds of my sex. I feel his lips on my ear, brushing a kiss against me, his breath becoming more ragged. I have never touched myself in front of someone before, but knowing he is watching actually turns me on rather than humiliates me.
“Come for me, Evie...”
His words send me over the edge, and within seconds, my entire body is shaking and quivering as I explode into orgasm, my free hand digging into his leg as I arch back against him, wanting to feel more of him. He moves his hand back over mine and cups both of our hands over my wet mound as he grinds harder, his cock wedged between my ass cheeks. I push my body slowly up and down his just a tiny bit, feeling the length of him. He finally shudders beneath me, his hands gripping me tighter, his breath hot and heavy against my ear.
We sit in silence in the dark, panting against each other. I have no idea what the hell just happened. I feel like I am slowly coming out of a trance. I try to sit up, but he pulls me back against him, his arm across my chest. “No.” His voice is still raspy. It’s sexy as hell. “Don’t move yet.”
As I come down from my orgasmic stupor, I am utterly ashamed of myself. How could I have done such a thing? It all happened so fast. Shit. I just dry humped a random stranger’s dick with my ass. I really need to get out of this truck fast and get away from this guy before he completely undoes me. I have never touched another man. There has only been Michael in every way. I feel completely sick to my stomach. I push his arm off me and sit up, disentangling myself from him as if he’s an octopus on fire. I move across the seat and button up my pants, not looking at him.
“Well, that was one way to keep you quiet and non-sarcastic,” he finally says.
“You’re a dick.”
“Ah, there’s my girl. I knew you’d come back.”
“This isn’t funny, Storm. I just cheated on my boyfriend.”
“I would not call that cheating. At all.”
I look at him like he’s nuts. “What? Are you crazy? Of course, it was.”
“I didn’t touch your tits or your pussy. We didn’t even fucking kiss.”
“Oh, so those are the body parts that constitute cheating? What about mental cheating?
“Mental cheating?” he repeats. “Okay... I wasn’t even thinking about you while we did that. I was thinking about pizza.”
“Pizza?” I repeat, annoyed.
“Hey, I’m trying to make you feel better here. If you were thinking about fucking me while we did that and I was thinking about pizza, then it’s not cheating. It takes two to cheat. See? Problem solved. No cheating happened.”
“We’re not talking about this anymore, Storm. Just leave me alone, please.”
He pulls out his cigarettes. There is a big wet spot on the front of his jeans that I try really hard not to look at. “We’re stuck in like a six foot box, Evie. I’m pretty sure I can’t leave you alone, babe. But, I am gonna take the dog out and grab a smoke and try to regroup a little. I’ll bring some food in, too.”
Relief comes as soon as he is out of the truck. His presence is so overpowering to me. It’s as if he seeps into my mind and skin. He both creeps me out and fascinates me, like a strange human train wreck who I want to get away from, but also want to peek at, take a taste of. It’s unnerving.
Chapter Three
I’ve never been afraid of silence or felt uncomfortable in the quiet. I’ve never been the type who needs to speak or ramble incessantly ju
st to fill the dead air. I’m okay with my own company. It’s so quiet now, both inside the truck and outside. There is literally no sound. No cars driving by, no airplanes flying overhead, no phones ringing, no birds chirping in the woods. I close my eyes for a moment and just listen to the nothingness. Sometimes, like now, I can control my panic and steer it away and turn it into a feeling of fascination rather than fear. The intense silence has the potential to be petrifying and set me off, but at the same time, the silence feels incredibly beautiful and peaceful. How often does a person really get to experience total silence?
Niko is curled up on the front seat, deep in a doggy nap. I’ve gotten used to him in the short time we’ve been trapped together. He’s a beautiful dog, all gray and tan and white with a mask around his eyes. I’m no dog expert, but I think he’s part husky or malamute or something like that.
My gaze wanders over to his master. Sasquatch is also napping, inked arms crossed. The blanket is stretched out between us, covering us both. Even though, he’s about two feet away, I can still feel his body heat. His dark hair is falling over his forehead, covering one of his eyes. I fight the urge to reach across the truck and gently brush it away from his face and feel the silkiness of it between my fingers. It’s sinful how beautiful and shiny his hair is. What a waste to have that on a man! I wonder what kind of conditioner he uses. Probably some kind of hot oil that smells like coconut.
One of his eyes pops open and stares right at me. “What are you looking at?”
“How did you know I was looking at you?” How embarrassing to be caught staring at a person while they’re sleeping.
“I could feel it.”
“I was looking at your hair if you must know.”
He sits up and cracks his neck to the side. “My hair? You are so friggin’ weird, ya know that?”
“Shut up. I was just thinking it looks really soft and shiny. Maybe it’s a wig?” Ha. Now wouldn’t that be funny?
“A wig? I don’t think so.” He takes a sip from his water bottle and then looks back over at me. “When you’re running your fingers through it screaming my name, you’ll know it’s real, baby.”
“Dude, that will never happen. Like ever.” I have never met anyone so arrogant in my life. Does he really think women are just so taken with him that they will just throw themselves all over him?
“Wanna bet?”
“No, I don’t want to bet. You’re sick and twisted, and obviously, completely in love with yourself.”
“Well, someone’s gotta be.”
I roll my eyes at him.
“What? You don’t think I’m lovable?” he asks.
“No, not really, Storm.”
“Niko loves me.” Niko’s ear quirks in our direction at the mention of his name, but he doesn’t lift his head.
“Yeah, I’m sure he does, because you feed him.”
Storm looks disturbed by this statement. “You think your cat loves you, Evelyn?”
“I know he does. He sleeps with me every night, and he follows me around and does rubbies all over my legs.
Storm pats Niko on the head and the dog’s big fuzzy tail starts to wag erratically. “I know he loves me. He’s my best friend. I saved his life.”
“Did you really?”
He nods, still caressing Niko’s ears.
“Will you tell me about it?” Any story would be good right now. Time is dragging in this truck, and I am legit losing my mind without any television or internet. There are so many Facebook statuses I could have made during this ordeal—they’d get like ninety-nine likes each.
“I’ll tell you, but only if you hold my hand again while I tell you.”
“What? I don’t think so.”
Grabbing my hand tightly in his, he pleads with his sexy green eyes. “Come on. I like how it feels. I’ll behave myself. I promise.”
Even though, he’s an annoying ass, he is kind of cute, so I have to grin at him for his efforts “Is that even possible? For you to behave?”
He winks at me. “I guess we’ll find out.”
I sigh. “Fine. But only because I’m bored, and I want to hear how you saved Niko’s life.”
“Someday, I’m going to tell our kids how I saved your life after you crashed your car off the side of the road because you couldn’t even listen to the GPS.”
“I think not. And the GPS is useless. It sent me in the wrong direction. Now, tell me about how you saved the dog.”
“All right. So a few years ago, I used to drive by this garage all the time. It was an old junky place just piled with like old cars and shit. And one day, I noticed this puppy tied up outside, and I thought he was cute because he was really fuzzy and had these crazy huge paws.”
I slowly rub his hand and make little circles on his palm with my finger while he talks.
“So a few weeks go by, and of course, the pup is growing and getting bigger and taller. And then a few more weeks go by, and now it’s like the middle of the summer and hot as hell, and this poor dog is just tied up to a fence on the side of the building with no shade or anything, and I don’t even see a water dish or food. So I park my car and I go check on him, and he’s all happy to have someone pet him. There was an old food dish off to the side, but it was empty. He didn’t have any toys or bones or anything. It was late so the guy who owned the place wasn’t there, so I drove over to the pet place and bought the little guy some new dishes and some toys and a few bones. I went back and gave him some water and he drank three fucking bowls, and then he woofed down two bowls of food. I felt really bad leaving him. I just had this bad gut feeling, ya know?” He unwraps a pack of gum with one hand as he talks. I can see he is upset talking about this. I give his hand a gentle squeeze.
He pops a piece of gum in his mouth and offers some to me. “No thanks,” I say wanting to hear the rest of the story.
“Anyway, I had to go out of town a few days after I gave the pup the stuff, and I was gone for like three months. To be honest, I kind of forgot about him. But then, I had to go over to that part of town again, and I drove by him. Evie, it was awful. I honestly think the last time he ate was what I gave him. He was nothing but skin and bones, too weak to even stand up. I could see all of his little ribs, and he had ticks all stuck to him, just sucking the blood out of him. I got out of my car and ran over to him, and at first, I thought he was dead. He was just lying there in the dirt with flies buzzing all around him. But when I kneeled down in front of him, his little tail wagged a tiny bit. I think he remembered me.”
Tears spring into my eyes at the thought of someone mistreating a puppy so badly. “My God, Storm, what happened?” He looks at me for a moment, a single tear is sliding down his cheek, and it grips at my heart.
“An old man came out of the little building and started yelling at me to get off his property. And I got up in his face and I yelled ‘what the fuck did you do to this puppy? He’s dying out here!’ and he was like, ‘mind your own business, you fucking punk, and get off my property.’ There was just no fucking way I was going to leave him there. So I pulled a wad of cash out of my pocket and I threw it at this scumbag, and I said ‘I just bought this dog, and I’m taking him out of here and if I ever fucking see you again, or see another dog here, I will fucking kill you.’ And that douchebag picked up the money and ran off with it. I scooped the pup up and took him to one of those emergency vet places. He had to stay there for a month before I could finally bring him home. He was dehydrated and starved almost to death, had two ear infections, worms—you fucking name it. I visited him every single day, and we’ve been together ever since.” Niko looked up as if he knew he was being talked about. “Right, buddy?” Storm says to him. I swear Niko looked like he was smiling.
“Wow... Storm. That’s an amazing story. You really did save his life.”
“Now he’s spoiled rotten just like he should be.”
“He’s beautiful, and so lucky that you found him, really. I guess you’re not so bad, after all.”
The man had a smile that could melt a glacier. Damn. I let go of his hand and break my gaze from his. “Can you throw me the crackers? I’m hungry.”
Reaching into the bag, he pulls out the box of crackers and hands them to me. “Why do you do that?” he asks.
“Do what?”
“You look away from me when I look at you.”
Ugh. Can he not just leave me alone?
I swallow my mouthful of cracker. “I don’t know. I didn’t realize I did it.”
“Are you afraid of me?”
“No... Not anymore. When we first met, I thought you were pretty scary, but now that I know you a little bit, no.”
He laughs. “You were pretty scared when I banged on your window. You jumped about a foot.”
“Ha ha.” I throw a cracker at him. “I wasn’t expecting anyone to be out there.”
“Are you afraid I’m going to see you? If you let me look at you?”
“Um? What does that mean? What do you see when you look at me?” So yeah, this is one of those times when you ask someone to tell you something and even though you really, really want to hear the answer, you’re afraid to hear it, too. Because it might be bad. Or, it might be really good. But usually, it’s bad.
He’s staring at me with this head tilted, his hair falling across his face. “I see a beautiful, cute woman who lives in fear.”
“Fear? What the hell, Storm. Fear of what?”
“Hey, calm down. I think you’re afraid of intimacy, of letting yourself feel. I think you hide in things that are comfortable to you, like with Michael.”
“Are you kidding me? And you think you know all this about me after spending a day and a half with me in the backseat of a truck?” My voice is loud. Way too loud for the small area we’re sitting in. But who the hell does he think he is? He doesn’t know me. At all. “And I’m not hiding in Michael, dumbass.” Hiding! What does that even mean? “What the hell are you hiding, Storm? Wearing goddamn eyeliner?”
He nods his head slowly at me. “Touché,” he says.
We’re quiet for a few moments, and I feel bad for yelling at him and making fun of his guyliner. I tend to do that when I get mad. I lash out at people and make them feel bad. Then I feel terrible afterward. Usually.