by Wolfe, Layla
I frowned. “Is he reading the meter or something?”
“I doubt it, because he’s leaning on a motorcycle. He’s got his arms crossed and he’s just staring intently at my house and garden. Like, it’s starting to make me uncomfortable. Bill’s not here, or I’d send him over to ask what’s up.”
I highly doubted that the effete little old lady Bill would confront any biker, but I was starting to get a creeping feeling, too. I tried peering through the dirty greenhouse windows, but the sprouting leaves of a willow got in the way, and I could see absolutely nothing. “What does he look like?”
“What’s going on?” asked Sabrina.
Anna crossed the threshold of the greenhouse in order to lower her voice, as though the guy could hear from that far away. “He’s handsome, Maddy. He looks like that picture you’ve got of Fidelia’s father.”
“Oh, crap,” I said automatically. I actually felt the blood drain from my face, and a wave of light-headedness overcame me.
Sabrina’s tinny voice came from the phone in my hand as I dropped it weakly to my side. “What’s she talking about, Maddy? Why is she talking about Fidelia’s father?”
Shoving past Anna, I jogged to a bare spot on the hill. I stood like a scarecrow losing its stuffing, almost too weak to stand. My blood pressure spiked, my heart raced, and all sense of reason evaporated from my head.
There was Ford, just as Anna had said, leaning against his Softail with his boots and arms tightly crossed. As she’d said, he was staring intently, unblinking, at the house, the garden.
And stupid, stupid me. My very first semi-rational thought was how nicely his biceps bulged under the black T-shirt. How nicely his package bulged between his muscular thighs.
I swear. Sometimes. I guess since all the blood had drained from my head, I was left with only hormones.
Then “fight or flight” took over. Before another hormonal thought could distract me, my feet were flying down the hill. Over cement steps, across flower beds that were just beginning to bloom, even between two thorny rose bushes. I flew.
I will never forget his face when he caught sight of me. It’s one of those images that are burned forever onto the backs of a person’s eyelids.
His jaw dropped. A fire lit up his beautiful root beer eyes. He half-rose from his leaning position. As it sunk in to him that I was really running downhill at breakneck speed, he started to step into the street that ran between us. He held up a hand against oncoming traffic without taking his eyes from me.
He actually just stepped right onto a street where people routinely went forty miles an hour, just to stop fucking traffic for me.
I wasn’t about to stop my panicked flight just for some car. Luckily, I see now in retrospect, there happened to be none coming at the moment. I made a beeline right into his arms.
He squeezed the ever-loving out of me. He squeezed me so hard he picked me right up off the asphalt. My face was squished against the side of his neck. He did smell ripe, as though he’d been riding for days, a combination of sweat, exhaust fumes, and fresh air.
I wrapped one tennis shoe around the back of his butt and held on for dear life. Most bikers don’t like anyone touching their cut, but Ford had never uttered a word of complaint whenever I had clutched his. No one said a thing for a long time until I whispered,
“You found me.”
He gave me a little shake. “Did you fucking think you could keep me away?”
My heart was literally being wrenched. I needed to breathe. The entire azure bowl of sky above me was spinning. I didn’t want to stop pressing my face into his mane of warm, glossy hair. I clutched the back of his skull, holding him to me, and one hot tear squeezed from the corner of my eye.
How did Ford know I was crying? He drew back a bit and licked the tear from my cheek. “Sugar cookie,” he murmured. “I love you so fucking much.”
I put both feet on the ground and touched the tip of his nose with mine. “How’d you find me? Speed doesn’t even know where I am.”
“Nurse’s board.” His sly little smile killed me.
The fucking nurse’s board! That asshole! I had to laugh, too. All my extreme efforts to remain undiscovered had all been pretty half-assed, once it occurred to Ford he could find me through the Board of Registered Nursing. Damn, he was good.
Carried away by the moment, I squeezed his hand. “Put your ride in the driveway by that bush. Don’t take that space, or Bill will kill you. Bill is Anna’s husband and a pretty big jerk.”
I ran halfway up the hill while Ford moved his bike into Anna’s driveway. She stood next to me while I waited on pins and needles.
“I take it you’re happy to see him?”
“Yes, I’m relieved,” I admitted. “I guess him not loving me is out of the equation now, and that’s a giant load off my shoulders. I think I’m ready to face his love.”
“Is it really that awful?”
“Oh, good Lord, you don’t know the half of it, Anna. His love hurts so bad, it’s good.”
“But he doesn’t know about Fidelia?”
“No. Can you take care of her for a few minutes? I’ll get around to it.”
Ford was now bounding up the hill looking like some fucking Roman god—the god of sex, beauty, and seduction. I could see him fresh now through Anna’s eyes. His forearms, corded with muscle, how he moved fluidly like a lion. His dark flashing eyes, quick with intelligence. Dr. Petrie, I know you think I’m some kind of masochist for loving Ford, but don’t you agree some things are just in your blood, in your heart, and you can’t stop or prevent them?
Besides, he’s Fidelia’s father. Oh, why am I justifying anything to you? This is my story!
Ford politely shook hands with Anna, and she politely asked him how far he’d just come.
“We were all on the Laughlin River Run,” he explained.
I’d heard of it. It was a giant annual biker rally where folks rode up and down the Colorado River, sometimes going into Lake Havasu City. “You told me you were going to do that this year.” I told Anna, “They’ve got motorcycle vendors, concerts, poker runs—”
“Right. So we were riding out to Kingman, but I just kept going. Something told me to keep riding, so I did. Around Amarillo something told me to take out my phone and google your name. Came up with the New York Nursing Board.”
Naturally, Anna looked a bit concerned. “And it showed you this address?”
Ford was the most adorable thing ever when he admitted, “Nope. That was a bit of trickery on Turk’s part. He’s a computer whiz.”
I no longer cared about any of the details. Just holding his hand close between my breasts wasn’t good enough, and I jerked him uphill, toward the greenhouse.
“I’ll go inside,” Anna called, waving.
In the greenhouse, I pushed Ford back against the potting table. Mounting his leather-clad knee, I put my forehead against his. “You big giant fucking goon,” I said, half-sad, half-ecstatic. “No one’s ever done anything like this for me, rode hellaway cross-country just to get to me.”
“I’d ride hellaway to the end of the planet to get to you, sugar cookie. And you’re making no excuses this time. You’re coming back with me. You’re taking that nursing job in P&E and you’re living in my house with me, and no one else.”
I didn’t answer, thinking about Fidelia. Instead, I drew back and slid his cut off his torso. He didn’t take his eyes off me as I placed it on top of a tray of irises, then yanked his tight black T-shirt over his head. I nearly swooned when his buff chest was revealed. He always knew the effect this had on me—and all women, no doubt—and usually he kicked back and waited, happy to be admired.
This time, though, I gave him no chance. I fell on him like a bitch in heat, snarling and gnawing at his flesh. I chewed his jawbone where the IED’s flash had burned his skin, his Adam’s apple, the luscious pit of his throat. I ran my hungry tongue across his silky clavicle, luxuriating in swirling the tip in the lovely pelt of hair
that covered his well-developed pecs. I chewed on his nipple, flicking the barbell that pierced it.
“Ah, God, Maddy,” he cried in a strangled voice. He sank his fingers deep into my hair and guided me lower. “You always know exactly what to do to drive me over the fucking edge.”
I chewed on the silken line of hair that arrowed down the center of those abs. My fingers were suddenly nimble beyond belief as they flew to unbuckle that Bare Bones buckle, the same one he’d had forever, changing it to different belts as they wore out. I left the chaps buckled, liking the tough, down-and-dirty look of them with his beautiful, fat cock jutting out. The shiny mushroom head was deeply purple, needing release, and I fell on it with a vengeance, not waiting to admire it.
A low, resonant growl came from the pit of his stomach as I sank his dick down my throat. I had never sucked a cock so voraciously, and as a teen I was very good at pretending. No, I suckled Ford’s long, pulsating prick as though my life depended on it. I lapped away at the bottom, worrying the sensitive underside until it throbbed with urgency. I laved the shiny, squeaky glans that was so tight it felt about to burst. Ford’s groans morphed into staccato grunts. I knew one tiny little trick and he’d explode in exquisite bliss.
Detaching my mouth for one brief second, I slathered spit all over my middle finger. Ford missed my mouth enough to grunt like a caveman and smash my face back into his crotch. I obliged, gulping down that beautiful limb of a cock while sliding my slimy finger up his asshole.
I went right for the jugular—or the prostate, I should say. That little nubbin of untold delights could be tickled in just the right spot to send men directly into the arms of Cloud Nine.
Indeed, Ford cried out as though a thousand thorns pierced his body. How delicious. I’ve hit the jackpot right away. He’s never going to forget me now.
I was shocked as hell when Ford tore me from him.
My mouth detached from his erection with a loud pop, and he drew me up to face him. He was lopsided, deranged with lust, just the way I loved him. “No,” he declared forcefully. “I’m not letting you get away with that, Maddy. I’m bending you over this fucking table and doing you the right way.”
And with that he tore my little sweater apart, right down the middle, and dove face-first into my cleavage.
I no longer wore the sexy push-up bras. I was actually wearing one of those nursing bras, but they were so cute nowadays, and Ford so frenzied, he didn’t seem to notice. He made short work of the clasp in front and my boobs popped out—larger, more pendulous than he’d last seen. He lapped up a nipple, masticating it between his incisors while I crawled up his thigh.
“Woman,” he snarled in between bites, “you drive me abso-fucking-lutely out of my mind.” He snarled and bit some more, then took a little break to pant against my breastbone, as though afraid he’d spontaneously come. “We need fucking protection. I didn’t bring any to Laughlin.”
“Don’t need it.” I panted too, squeezing his beautiful thigh between mine, my fist wrapped around his long, fat dick. “I tested myself. I’m not a Tay-Sachs carrier.”
Of course, I was assuming that was his only fear. It was hugely arrogant to assume he wasn’t more fearful of any pregnancy at all, period. But I’d played my cards right. He drew back from me, regarding me with eyes of wonder. His beautiful nostrils flared and his chest rose and fell with his panting, and he fixed me with those puppy dog eyes.
“That’s…that’s amazing, Maddy. That’s…excellent.”
I said pertly, “You might not even be a carrier. Just because both your parents were doesn’t mean you are. We can test you, too.”
We just stared stupidly at each other, lovestruck, with my hand around his throbbing cock. Then, just as suddenly as we’d stop, we leaped into action again.
Standing, Ford twirled me around like a clumsy ballerina. My palms slapped against the table, which was more of a rickety potting shelf that held trowels and stakes. He yanked my flimsy panties down to one tennis shoe, and I spread my feet apart to demonstrate my acceptance of his authority, his prowess, his virility. My pussy clenched in anticipation of his entrance, and he didn’t disappoint. He speared me smoothly, easily, uttering a groan of the utmost satisfaction that must have shaken him to his toes, his balls.
Arching my back, I felt around behind my head for him. “I’m wide open,” I assured him.
He pinched my clit between his fingertips, making me gasp as he seated himself deep inside me. “Ah God, Maddy. When you talk like that my balls ache for you.”
“Make me come, you asshole. I want you to feel me coming around your plump, juicy cock.” I wiggled my hips in that pole dancer’s way men are suckers for.
His fingers set to diddling my clit in earnest. I was so hot, so wide open for my big hunk of a man, within a minute I was teetering on the verge of climax. I hadn’t toyed with any BOB or shower head in recent months. Giving birth had put a kibosh on any self-love, and having a bedroom on the same floor as that odious Bill critic jerk put a kibosh on practically everything else.
So no, it didn’t take long, between Ford’s prick knocking at my womb and filling me completely, and his dexterous fingers tickling my clit like a butterfly’s wings. Sighing ever faster like the wind through a clipper’s sails, I toppled off that cliff and sank into the most gut-wrenching orgasm of my entire fucking life.
I mean, my internal clitoral arms wrenched the orgasm from my womb. I had not been torn like this since childbirth, and I had to hold my breath as my toes curled upward. A giant clenching fist seemed ready to break one of my internal organs. It was so intense I couldn’t even revel in the pleasure of Ford’s own orgasm, his prick jerking inside me as he splashed load after load of jism against my cervix.
I came forever. He didn’t let up with his diddling, holding his erupting cock up inside me with the power of his hips. We were locked together in one long silent spasm, our mouths frozen into Os.
Eventually, I guess, we had to breathe. Gasping for air like a beached fish, my torso flopped onto the table. My boobs were mashed into a pile of soil and some sharp objects like plant tags. My pussy clenched around Ford’s prick, milking it for the last drops of delicious semen. Those tiny clear bubbles floated before my eyes, I was so starved for air.
Ford’s cock still twitched. He hissed in air with every little twinge, as though he was being murdered. Slowly, like a man crawling onto a desert island, I dragged myself to a standing position with little zip ties and dirt raining from my tits. Ford was still almost fully erect inside of me, and nobody was in any rush to disengage.
Except maybe Bill. We both jumped when he pounded idiotically on the closed glass greenhouse door. “Get the fuck off my property, you god damned thug!” Of course Bill had heard a little bit about Ford over the past months. His name was brought up less and less, but apparently Bill had a memory like a steel trap. “I want that fucking heap of nuts and bolts out of my damned driveway too, or I’m calling the cops on you for trespassing!”
I looked over my shoulder at Ford. His face was frozen in surprise, but we both burst out laughing at the same time.
“No problem, fucktard,” Ford yelled back. “Just let me get my things together and I’m out of here.”
Meanwhile, Anna was pulling on Bill’s arm, her little feminine voice entreating him. “Leave them alone, Bill! Just let them talk.”
Bill stopped pounding on the door, but he yelled at Anna, “They’re not talking, that’s the god damned problem! I don’t want his filth all over my Venus flytraps!”
We giggled even harder, and Ford’s dick finally slipped out of me, releasing a gusher of warm jism down my inner thigh. Turning to face him, I clutched his biceps and planted a wet, warm one on his beautifully shaped lips. We noshed for a long time, during which Bill could still be heard rampaging down by the kitchen.
When we pulled apart, I licked his lower lip. “I love you, Ford Illuminati. Always have. Always will.”
“Oh God, Maddy.”
Ford buried his face in my hair. He whispered, “You’re coming with me. I can see if you don’t want to ride one up all the fucking way back to P&E, but I’m putting you on a plane. No fucking excuses.” Reaching for his cut, he fished around in one of the pockets with two fingers. “I didn’t suppose you still had your collar—”
“I do.”
“—so I brought you this.” Ford unfolded the PROPERTY OF patch and sheepishly handed it to me. “Better than a ring, though I could get you one of those, too, if you marry me.”
I had imagined in my wildest dreams Ford Illuminati asking me to marry him, but I never imagined that I’d cry. Yes, cry. Tears sprang into my eyes, stinging them, as I looked blurrily at the PROPERTY OF patch. His cock was still hanging out at half-mast, my panties were still down by my shoe, but we clung together like we were on a life raft and this PROPERTY OF patch was our golden ticket out of there.
It finally occurred to me I hadn’t responded to him. “Of course I’ll marry you, Ford. You’ve always been the only one for me.”
“Good. I’ll have you know, your family just got bigger, Maddy. Everyone’s waiting for you back in P&E. I’ve got the gavel now. Cropper’s gone.”
I knew that. I didn’t quite know how to acknowledge the unspoken truth that Ford had buried Cropper. “Yeah, I read a news article how he was found in the desert near Nogales. Poor Tall Peril.” It was an indication of the loathing and scorn I felt for Cropper that I acknowledged Tall Peril’s death and not his own. I’d barely said two words to Tall Peril.
“I can’t ride with you to P&E but not for the reason you think. Give me a few days to organize shit here, Ford. Come inside the house and you’ll see why.”
With that sublime look of bafflement on his face, Ford stuffed his cock back into his jeans and adjusted his chaps. I straightened myself and thought I looked fine, aside from a missing button between my tits.
“I don’t think your friend’s husband wants me inside his house, mija.”