by Aubrey Cara
She shrugs, picking at the remaining food but no longer eating. “He’s everything to me. He’s all I’ve got. I can’t remember a time I wasn’t taking care of Dylan.”
There’s nothing I can say that won’t be inadequate. I’ve never had that kind of love for anyone, and I can’t promise to save the kid. My number-one priority is trying to keep her safe. I’d rather watch my guts get ripped out than to have anything happen to this girl. So, maybe I’m starting to understand how she feels about her brother, but there’s still jack I can do about it. And isn’t that the most frustrating shit of all.
I’ve never had a hero complex, but it seems I’m developing the condition. It’s like a damn rash.
I toss a twenty on the table, and we head out.
“Hank, where’s the bike?”
Funny. I was wondering the same fucking thing. I scan the parking lot, but I know that thing is long gone. Fuck. In my mind, I’m smashing my fist into the wall and blowing shit up, but I just roll my shoulders and will my jaw to loosen.
We’re in the middle of fucking nowhere, and my bike just got stolen.
No. Fucking. Problem.
“Oh, hey!” Candi’s striding across the lot, waving down a trucker, while she holds up her oversized pants with the other hand.
What the hell she’s doing?
“Howdy, there,” she twangs, putting extra country into her voice. “I was wondering if we could hitch a ride? Just to the next town or…somewhere.”
“You bet, I’ll give you a ride, sugar” he says, his insinuation clear. The trucker is indiscriminately aged and round in the middle. He wears a cap that says I’d rather be fishing, and from the sweat stains on his T-shirt, I’d guess he’s been driving for a while. That or he has a general disinterest in basic hygiene.
“Well, that would be great!” Candi is chipper as can be. She either doesn’t know this sleazy douche is hitting on her or she’s chosen to pointedly misunderstand. Knowing Candi, I’m guessing the latter.
“My boyfriend’s bike got stolen, and we’re stranded here.”
It kicks me when she calls me her boyfriend. I can’t remember the last time I was referred to as anyone’s boyfriend.
“Is that right?” The trucker hitches his pants up and scans his eyes over me. “And if I haul y’all to wherever, what I’m going to get out of it? I don’t haul nothing I don’t get compensated for, if you know what I mean?”
I’m clear as day on his meaning, and it’s taking everything in me not to smash this asshole’s face in and steal his truck. It would serve him the fuck right. I cross my arms over my chest to keep from punching him. “I can pay you for the ride.”
The trucker spits and jerks his head in Candi’s direction. “What about her?”
“She’s not for sale.”
We stare each other down, but it’s a pissing contest this asshole’s not about to win. He’s trying to get my measure. Spot a weakness. My jaw clenches and I harden my stare, making sure he knows I’d break him in a heartbeat and pick my teeth with his bones.
He knows it, too, because a second later he nods. “I’ll take y’all wherever, as long as I’m heading that way. No funny business.”
We’re settling into the cab of this guy’s semi when Candi asks, “Oh, is this your family?” There is a picture on the dashboard of a mean-looking woman, three scruffy kids, and two mangy dogs.
“Yep. That’s my wife, Jeni, and our boys Scout, Scooter, and Scotty. They’re my heart and soul.”
I roll my eyes and refrain from pointing out not two seconds ago he was trying bribe sex from the woman he’s now bragging about his family to.
“Ooh, you went with all Ss,” Candi gushes. “I love it when a family has theme names. My dad’s name is Ray and my older brothers are Ronnie and Robbie. It’s a wonder I wasn’t named Rachel and my other brother Rick or something. Was the S theme your idea or your wife’s?”
The trucker shrugs as we get on our way. “It just sorta happened. One boy’s named after my pappy, one after Jeni’s pappy. Then the last boy we named after the bloodhound I had when I was a boy.”
“I never had a dog,” Candi says sadly. “I always thought if I had one, I’d name him Butch…or Charlie.”
“Fine names. Damn fine names. I once had a one-eyed dog named Steve.”
17
HANK
It is an hour before we come across a hotel off the side of the freeway. It’s a Comfort Inn and Suites and not nearly as inconspicuous as I could have hoped for. A rundown motel would be better for lying low. We need the kind of place where everyone has secrets and no one looks at you twice, but if I don’t get out of this truck, I’m going to shoot myself.
“God bless you, Mr. Bernum,” Candi says as we’re exiting the cab.
I doubt she has any religious inclinations, but the girl is Southern. “The man upstairs is surely going to do you a solid for today’s good deed.” There are tears in Candi’s eyes, and she kisses the trucker’s cheek.
“Today’s good deed cost me a hundred and fifty bucks,” I can’t help but say.
Candi shoots me a glare.
“You’re as sweet as an angel. You take care of this girl, ya hear?” he calls out to me.
“Hell, Ernie.” I sling my arms over Candi’s shoulders and drawing her in close. “It’s a full-time job keeping this girl out of trouble.”
“Oh, you,” Candi says, but she adds an extra umph when she elbows me in the ribs. “Drive safe, and you make sure to get that lump checked out when you get back home. Your family wants you around a good long time, Ernest Bernum!”
Hand to God, Ernie wipes a tear. “Lordy, but I know you’re right. Take care, y’all.”
I slam the door to the truck, and Ernie honks the horn as he pulls out of the parking lot. It’s after eight at night and already dark out. I see a few people peeking out the windows of their hotel rooms, so I grab Candice by the arm and drag her toward the front door. She’s still waving until the truck is out of sight.
“You know, you could have been nicer,” she says as we make our way into a homey lobby, featuring a fireplace, couches and rocking chairs.
“He wanted to buy you. For sex. How am I the asshole?”
Candi pouts and looks away. “I’m sure the road gets awfully lonely sometimes.”
I don’t dignify that shit with a response as I go up to the counter. The clerk tells me all they have left is a deluxe suite. The parking lot isn’t that full, but I don’t argue. I have enough cash, but unfortunately have to hold the room with a credit card. Just another reason I should have waited to find a seedy motel.
Since I was supposed to be staying at the safe house until everything blew over, I wasn’t issued a dummy card. Didn’t even think to ask for one. It’s an oversight I’m kicking myself for as the check-in clerk hands me my personal, easily tracked, credit card back along with our set of room keys.
“Thank you, Mr. Buchannan.” I inwardly cringe at her use of my real name. “Breakfast is served from 6:00 a.m. to 9:00 a.m. in the lounge. I hope you both enjoy your stay.” The clerk’s smile is tight as she takes in Candi’s and my appearance. We probably don’t blend with the usual wholesome traveling families that roll through here on a regular basis.
Too bad, I’m all out of fucks.
Candi fits her hand in mine as if self conscious, and we make our way to the room. Her eyes don’t miss a thing. “This place is nice,” Candi whispers.
I don’t see it. The carpet is a busy pattern, and fake sconces light our way. Along almost every hallway we pass sits one slim good-for-nothing table with a big fake plant on it. I guess it’s okay. Slightly better than average. Way better than the motel we should be laying low in.
One glance at Candi’s repressed smile and I realize she’s impressed. Might even be excited to be staying here. I don’t know why, but that makes me feel like a fucking king.
“Here.” I hand her the keycard, once we’re in front of our door. “You do the honors.�
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“Really?”
“Go ahead.”
She bites her lip as she takes the card and puts it in the slot. It turns green, and she twists the handle. The big grin she casts me right before she walks into the room is blinding. I have to rub my chest, the force of it hits me so damn hard.
I flop down on the hard sofa, stretch my legs out and watch Candi zing around picking things up and pointing things out.
“Would you look at these coffee filters? They already have the coffee in them, like big ole tea bags!” And then from the bathroom. “Ooo, they have little soaps wrapped up like fancy chocolate. And they smell so good.”
“Where the hell kind of places have you been staying?”
Her dating dickwads like Cody is starting to make more sense. If she were my girl, I would show her some of the world and…my mind stutters as Candi walks out of the bathroom. Her long legs are already bare as she whips off the long-sleeved shirt. Fucking panties, sexy midriff and a white bra encasing her gorgeous breasts are exposed as her undershirt goes over her head.
“I’m going to take a shower,” she says. “I can’t remember the last time I felt so grimy.”
My mouth dries as the bra and cotton panties land on the floor next to the shirts. Naked as the day, Candi struts back into the bathroom. Ass swaying and tits bouncing.
“I’m feeling pretty dirty myself,” I hear myself say. I’m ripping my shirt off over my head and heel toeing out of my boots as I make my way to the bathroom door. My pants hang open on my hips, and my cock wants to spring out and play at the sight of her.
She’s all long limbs and curves. Her pussy peeks out at me when she leans in to test the water, and my dick twitches at the sight.
I stride in and catch her off guard grabbing her around the waist from behind. She gives a surprised squeak then yelps when I give her luscious ass a hard enough swat to leave a hand print. The glowing outline of my hand on her ass makes my cock twitch.
“What are you doing?” she gasps.
I whip her around, pressing her to the wall. “I’m here to help you get dirty.”
“Don’t you mean clean?”
“No.” My mouth crashes down on hers. Her lips surrender under my assault, opening in soft submission to my punishing kiss.
My claiming kiss.
This is my woman. Her moans when I kiss her. Her gasp when I palm her ass and lift her to rub my dick against her hot core. Her long legs wrapping around my waist. They’re all mine.
I know it’s not rational. This girl is trouble. The kind of trouble I’ve never wanted in my life. But there’s nothing rational about how she makes me feel. Rational took a hike the second I spanked this girl in the back room of a stupid party. I want to punish her, but I want to make her feel as crazy as she makes me.
I yank my wallet out of my back pocket, pulling out a condom. I let her legs slide to the floor then roll it on. The entire time she watches, panting, her cheeks flushed. Her arms are around my neck, her hands in my hair. I stretch her arms out over her head and keep her wrists pinned with one hand and guide myself to her hot cunt.
Her baby blues never leave mine as I push inside her, even when she bites her lip and whimpers. I haven’t prepared her. She’s not ready to take me as she ought to be, but she doesn’t stop me.
Keeping her wrists pinned, I grind my thumb to her clit. She whimpers and moans until her sweet cunt is pulsing and gushing on my cock. Then I thrust hard inside her. Just once, shoving her up the wall to be speared on my cock.
“Daddy shouldn’t let his naughty little girl come.” My voice is coarse, menacing, and her breathing is already ragged. I give her nipple a punishing pinch, making her flex around my cock.
She gasps, “Please,” squirming.
“You’ve been a naughty girl, haven’t you, princess?” When she doesn’t answer, I fist her hair at her nape and make her look up at me. “Haven’t you?” I growl.
“Yes, yes, sir.”
I get primal satisfaction when her reply comes out a moan. “Tell me one reason Daddy should let you come?”
“Hank,” she pleads.
“Wrong answer.” I grab a handful of towels from the rack next to us and toss them to the floor. Then I pull back and push her forward. “Present your ass for Daddy.”
She only hesitates for a second before easing down. Her gorgeous ass is in the air, her head resting on her forearms on the floor. She’s perfection, and I almost want to reward her for knowing just how to present herself. Almost.
My eyes land on barely noticeable scratches scoring her right ass cheek. I didn’t put those marks on her.
“How the hell did you get these?” I ask with deceptive calm, running a finger over the lines.
Biting her lip, she peeks back up at me, the picture of guilt. “Dom.” Her answer comes out so softly, I almost don’t hear it.
My blood boils and I wish I’d shot more than that fucker’s toe off. “Did you let him—did he fucking—” My mind stutters. I can’t go there. I’ll lose my shit.
“That was it,” she rushes. “I had to dance for him this afternoon, and he-he did that.”
I hate that she danced for him. That he saw any bit of her. She’s mine.
My hand cracks down on her upturned ass. My cock surges. The sting of my hand, her little cry, seeing my handprint marked on her is still not enough to soothe the torment clawing at my insides. “You could have prevented all of this had you been honest with me. Were you honest with me, princess?”
“No, no, Daddy.”
Fuck. That reply makes me want to slam my cock back inside her. Instead, I step out of my pants that have fallen to the floor before spanking her again and again.
She’s holding herself still, her muscles flexing and releasing with each stinging smack. Her body’s taut with her effort not to squirm away from me. Not until her gasps turn into moaning cries, her ass swollen and red, do I fall to my knees behind her and shove back inside her wet heat.
I pull her up by her hair until her back is to my front, and gently grip her throat. “Tell me, princess, would you rather strip for strangers, now?”
A whimper is her only response, and it pisses me off.
“Are you letting me touch you, fuck you, because you owe me money?”
“Hank, please,” she pants, grabbing my wrist at her throat like I’m choking her, which I’m not. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” The words tumble out like a chant, over and over. She pushes back and grinds her hot pussy down on my cock.
I grit my teeth. She feels like heaven. I knew her tight little cunt was going to ruin me for all other women.
I was right.
Doesn’t mean I still don’t want to punish her.
Bringing my hand down in a sharp slap to her clit draws a cry from her lips, and her body tightens. I do it again until tears of frustration run down her cheeks and her pussy starts to spasm. I yank out of her heat, her cry of incompletion music to my ears.
“Hank, please! I’m so close.”
“What makes you think Daddy’s going to let you come?”
With glazed eyes, and tear tracks still on her face, she looks back at me over her shoulder, hair in disarray. Saying nothing more, she eases back down, until her face is resting on the towels and her ass in the air.
The move is one of relinquishing control. She’s beautiful and oh so tempting. Her innocent act of submission has me plunging back into her tight heat.
I fall forward. Pushing her down, covering her. Holding her around the waist as I hammer into her. Her legs spread wider, until she’s completely open to my thrusts. I’m burning from the inside. All my heat spearing to my cock, and I’m surging inside her. A hoarse groan tears from me and I come long before I planned to.
Her delectable pussy ripples around me. She moans loudly, and I dimly realize I should pull out. I wasn’t planning on letting her come. Not this time. But I’m powerless to leave the gasping pulls of her sweet cunt.
My pulse roars
in my ears as I lie over her, catching my breath. She shifts uncomfortably under me, and I realize I’m crushing her. Sliding off, I flop onto my back on the cold tile. The shower still hammering away behind us.
The silence grows up between us, becoming uncomfortable. I know I should say something to break the barrier, but I’m out of my element. I’m not the words and feelings guy.
I glance over and find her watching me with her big blue eyes while she nibbles on her lip. She reaches out and runs lazy fingers over my beard.
“It wasn’t true,” she says softly.
“Hmm, what’s that?”
“When I said I let you touch me only because I owe you money.” A tear leaks from the corner of her eye, and her voice grows thick. “That wasn’t true. I trust you. And I like you way more than I should like a man who spanks me and calls himself Daddy.” The last part of her confession comes out in a scandalized whisper and makes me smile.
“Come here.” I hold out an arm.
Instead of curling up next to me, she climbs up and straddles me, her long limbs wrapping around me. Her delectable body plasters to mine.
My body’s reaction is instantaneous despite coming only minutes ago. It’s always ready to go with this girl. I fill my hands with her hot ass and pull her closer as she grinds down on me.
Jesus, she’s going to be the death of me.
I pull her down for a kiss until she’s moaning and trying to thrust her tongue down my throat. Then I pull her back by the hair and smack her ass to watch her eyes roll back. “We should shower before the water runs cold.”
She’s so fucking hot for it.
I get sadistic pleasure in her whimpering pout. Her mouth is all swollen and red from beard burn. Her skin is so delicate and easily marked, but that just makes me want to mark her all the more.
In the shower, I wash her hair while sipping at her lips and running soapy hands over her body. Her honey spills out over my hand as I reach between her legs. She’s sloppy wet, and I want to thrust back inside her.
I know there is shit we need to discuss. Things she needs to explain, and I still owe her a real punishment for the stunts she’s been pulling. But here and now, I can’t bring myself to care.