by Anna Lewis
“Don’t worry about it, Cherise,” he said. “Listen, there’s something you need to know…”
Her eyes snapped up immediately, dark brown eyes full of concern. “What happened?” she asked.
“It’s your car,” Lynx said.
It turned out that fleeing the Olde Glory Inn on motorcycle was a good idea for their personal safety, but not such a great idea when it came to Cherise’s poor little car. According to Lynx, it had been smashed with baseball bats and then set on fire. The police had been out to the Olde Glory Inn, but the security cameras didn’t actually work and no one there claimed to have seen anything.
“Those assholes,” she growled, clenching her coffee cup so tightly that Lynx had to take it away from her to prevent her from crushing it and spilling hot liquid all over her fresh, business casual ensemble. “Of course, they didn’t see anything, because they were too busy actually setting my poor car on fire. Those fucks. I want to see it, Lynx.”
“You don’t want to see it, Cherise,” he told her, setting the coffees aside and pulling her into a fierce, protective hug.
“I need to file a police report,” she said, fighting to hold back tears. Her little SUV wasn’t fancy, but it was hers. It had gotten her through grad school and an internship, it had helped her move to San Francisco. She was heartbroken at its destruction.
“The cops have already been to the scene,” Lynx said. He’d reported the incident and gone to the police station to help the investigating officers fill out the report. “All you need to do, Cherise, is go down there and sign off on the report.”
“But what about my assignment?” Cherise realized. “Oh my god, I’m never going to make it to Omaha in time to meet with my guy.”
“You will if we drive really fast,” Lynx said.
“We?”
Lynx insisted on driving Cherise to the police station and held her hand as she signed off on the report. Then he loaded her onto his bike, shoved her overnight bag into one of his saddlebags and they hit the road.
Cherise had been on many road trips in her life, but none where she was straddling a Harley-Davidson motorcycle while desperately holding on to a big, burly biker with whom she was slowly falling in love.
As the wind of the highway whipped around them, Cherise thought that there was no better way to travel.
Finally, they arrived in Omaha and slowly tooled through the quiet streets of the large city.
“I’m supposed to meet my contact here, at the Magnolia Hotel,” Cherise yelled into Lynx’s ear, pointing at a large hotel on the corner in front of them. Lynx puttered his motorcycle over, helped Cherise off the bike and then wrapped her in an enormous bear hug.
“You can rent a car or get a flight home from Omaha,” he said, pulling back and looking down at her sadly.
“Wait, what?” Cherise said, incredulous. “Can’t you come with me and we could—”
Lynx shook his head. “This is as far as I can take you, lady. You can get home safely from here.”
“But—”
“No, Cherise, you don’t want anything more to do with me,” Lynx told her. “Last night was great—”
“Great?”
“Incredible,” he amended, finally smiling. “Last night was incredible, maybe the best of my entire life. Other than the, you know, fight with the biker gang.”
“Then stay in Omaha with me, we can have dinner after my interview, get to know each other a little better—”
“No. I’m sorry, but I’m not the kind of guy that you want to get to know better, Cherise,” Lynx said. “I’m trouble. And it would be better for you if you stay far, far away from me.”
With that, he pulled his helmet on and roared down the streets of Omaha, leaving Cherise standing alone on a street corner, heartbroken.
***
“And what inspired you to create this app?” Cherise asked her interview subject, trying to keep the boredom out of her voice. After the adventures of the previous night, there was no way she could even think about being interested in dating apps.
Daniel Traylor, her interview subject, beamed. He was a mousey little man—skinny, with a close cropped haircut and dark-framed glasses overwhelming his narrow face—and had probably never been in the spotlight before. This interview was likely the highlight of his entire life.
“Well, I have several little sisters,” Daniel said, the words gushing out of him like a broken faucet. “And they always end up dating these guys who seem nice at first, but there’s always some secret or shady past, you know?”
“Mmmm-hmmmm,” Cherise hummed politely, scribbling down a few pieces of information while her cell phone recorded their entire conversation so she could refer back to it later.
“And this app will do a background check instantly for any man you meet,” Daniel said. “It will dig up his deepest, darkest secrets. Well, any that are in the public domain of course: divorces, secret families, police records. All of those things in one handy app! You just type in his name and then—”
Cherise sat bolt upright. “Wait, did you say any man?”
Moments later, Cherise and Daniel were both staring, transfixed, at the screen of Daniel’s smartphone, gazing down at a mug shot of Alexander “Lynx” Andrews.
“He’s…a felon?” Cherise whispered.
Daniel nodded, then tapped another button on the app. “Looks like he was in for…oh no. Oh, that’s bad.”
“What?” Cherise did not like the tone of Daniels’ voice.
“He was incarcerated for aggravated assault and battery, Cherise.”
Assault and battery?
Daniel continued. “Do you know this guy, Cherise?”
Cherise nodded and then lied her face off. “I kinda know him,” she said. “I mean, distantly. A friend of a friend, you know, is interested in dating him.”
“Then you need to tell her to stay the hell away from this guy,” Daniel frowned, shaking his head. “See, this is exactly what this app is for. Keeping women informed about assholes like this guy. Seriously, Cherise, tell your friend to steer clear. He’s nothing but trouble.”
Those words—nothing but trouble—rang through Cherise’s head during the remainder of the interview, at the rental car place, and during her entire drive out of Omaha. She navigated the highway, retracing the path she’d taken with Lynx only a few short hours ago, and the picture of his mug shot seared her eyes.
He was a criminal, he was a felon, he was a liar.
Hot tears spilled down Cherise’s cheeks, burning her with sorrow and shame. She pushed them away with the back of one hand and smiled grimly, her sorrow suddenly replaced with white-hot anger. “We’re gonna get to the bottom of this, girl,” she said to her reflection in the rearview mirror. Her reflection looked stoically back at her. Cherise Clayton did not back down from a challenge, not now, not ever.
Cherise floored the rental car and sped down the highway toward Left Fork, Nebraska.
The sun was setting when Cherise reached the town and she whipped down main street, zooming past the Camelot Inn, past the police station, heading straight for the only place she could think of to find Lynx: the Olde Glory Inn.
She had no idea where Lynx lived or where to find him, but somebody at the Olde Glory Inn did, and Cherise intended to get that information through any means necessary. She couldn’t use force, but she had a few other tricks up her sleeve.
The barroom screeched to a halt once again when she walked in. If anything, the grizzled faces were even more shocked this night, considering what had happened the previous evening.
“What the hell do you want?” Zeke, the grizzled old bartender growled as Cherise stepped through the door. He grabbed a baseball bat from under the bar and started to come around to confront Cherise. “I told you to get the hell out of here nicely last night, and I’m not gonna be so polite today, girl.”
“I need to know where Lynx is,” she replied, reaching into her bag and plucking out a hundred dollar bill, ball
ing it up and tossing in in Zeke’s general direction.
“And what makes you think that anyone here is willing to give you that information?” J.P. stood at her shoulder, just as menacing now as he’d been the night before.
“Money,” Cherise said simply. “I’ve got cash on me and, if you help me find Lynx, I’ll go back to the motel, get my ATM card and withdraw one thousand dollars to anyone who can help me find him.”
“What if we just take the money now, and throw you in a fucking drainage ditch?” J.P. growled.
“Then you won’t be able to get the rest of your cash,” Cherise told him, trying to keep her voice from shaking. This plan had seemed like such a great idea when she’d come up with on the drive from Omaha but now that she was back at the Olde Glory Inn, back in the presence of the putrid J.P., Zeke, and their cronies, the plan was starting to look less solid.
J.P. snatched her purse and dumped it out of the floor. A couple of hundreds floated out, nothing more. J.P. nudged the bills with the steel-toe of his scuffed motorcycle boot and then grinned up at her. “This looks like enough to me,” he snarled. “I’d rather just take this and not help you, bitch. Plus, I think you still need to be taught a lesson.”
Cherise began backing toward the door. This was a terrible idea, she thought as her back collided into a solid mass of human being behind her. Another one of J.P.’s cronies, she lamented, then saw the twin expressions of fear spread over both J.P. and Zeke’s faces as they began to back away.
The telltale click of a revolver being cocked sounded in her ear. “You’re going to apologize to the lady,” Lynx’s rough voice said, a low growl right near her ear. “You’re going to put everything back in her purse, hand it to her and then lay down flat on the floor.”
“Like hell we will,” Zeke snapped, and Cherise felt Lynx tighten behind her.
“If you don’t do exactly what I tell you, I will shoot you in the face, do you understand me? I will shoot you.”
Both men nodded, the color draining out of their weathered skin.
“Good,” Lynx said. “Then get to it, assholes.
Within seconds, the contents of Cherie’s purse had been put back together and her handbag returned to her. Zeke and J.P. lowered themselves to the ground, eyes burning with rage at both Cherise and Lynx as they flattened themselves against the filthy barroom floor.
A low voice sounded in Cherise’s ear. “They’re not going to give us much time,” Lynx whispered. “The second we get out that door, run to your car as fast as you can, okay?”
Cherise nodded. “But what about you?”
“I’m gonna jump on my bike, try to lead them in the wrong direction,” he explained. “Don’t stop driving until you reach Green River, okay? It’s about forty miles to the west. Don’t stay in North Fork, don’t even slow down until you get at least twenty miles out of town.”
“But what about you?” Cherise asked as they slowly backed toward the door.
“I’ll find you,” Lynx promised.
“How?” Cherise whispered.
“I don’t know,” Lynx admitted. They were at the door. Lynx held the gun steady with one hand and reached for the doorknob with his other free hand. “But I’ve done a pretty good job of it so far, haven’t I? I promise I’ll find you, Cherise. Now…run!”
Cherise sprinted across the parking lot, dashing toward her tiny little rental car. She fumbled at the driver side door, wrenched it open and flung herself inside.
Across the parking lot, Lynx’s motorcycle roared to life and rubber squealed as he sped away from the Olde Glory Inn. Cherise aimed her car in the opposite direction, heading toward the interstate and, hopefully, safety.
In her rearview mirror, she saw a mass of bodies pour out of the bar, leap onto their own motorcycles, and zoom off in the direction Lynx had gone.
Cherise’s hands were shaking badly as she found her way onto the highway and pointed her rental in the direction of Green River.
Please let him find me, she prayed as she sped west, leaving North Fork behind her forever. Please let him find me and please let him be safe.
***
Every time a pair of headlights swept by her window, illuminating her room for the briefest of seconds, Cherise jumped out of her skin. She knew it wasn’t Lynx, it couldn’t be Lynx. Not that Cherise doubted that he’d be able to ditch the biker gang—he’d already proven that when he’d rescued her—but she didn’t truly believe that he would find her.
Lynx didn’t have her number and she didn’t have his. Hell, she didn’t even know if he had a phone, let alone a phone number. And Green River was a much larger city than North Fork. It had dozens if not hundreds of hotels within its sprawling city limits. There was no way that Lynx would be able to track her down to this particular La Quinta Inn, just one of many off the interstate.
A knock sounded at the door and Cherise, without giving her doubts a second thought, flew across the room and flung the door wide open. There, standing on the doorstep of her hotel room, was Lynx. He looked tired, he looked windswept, but he was there and he was whole.
Cherise flung herself at him, wrapping him in the fiercest bear hug her small arms could muster. She was laughing and crying with joy as Lynx peppered the top of her head with soft kisses.
Finally, she was able to tear herself away from him. “Oh my god, I thought I would never see you again,” she sobbed, tears streaming down her cheeks. “How did you know where I went?”
Lynx stepped inside the room, shutting the door behind him and locking the bolt. He looked at her, a smirk hiding in the corner of his mouth. “I may have taken a page out of your book,” he admitted.
“You…what?” Cherise frowned.
Lynx held up his phone—He does have a phone, Cherise thought wildly—and showed her a blinking blue dot on the map on the screen. “You were talking about apps and I realized that I, uh, I could track you.”
“You tracked me?” Cherise didn’t know if she should be angry, confused or very flattered.
“To be fair, I tracked your rental car,” he admitted. “I slipped a little tracker thing under your bumper before I went into the Olde Glory. Then, once I got away from those assholes, I opened up the app and…here you are.”
Cherise wanted to kiss him, she wanted to kill him, but she settled for dropping to her knees in front of him and working his fly open.
“What are you doing, Cherise?” he whispered, as she tugged his pants over his hips and letting them pool around his ankles.
Cherise shushed him. “You’re my hero, Lynx. And heroes generally get rewards. Now sit back and enjoy yours.”
Lynx obeyed orders instantly, sagging back against the door and letting the wood support the weight of his huge body. Cherise smiled up at him, her brown eyes twinkling, and he smiled back, shaky.
Ever so gently, Cherise eased the leaking head of his cock between her full lips, gently sucking him in and teasing until he was in as far as he could go, his tip pressing against the back of her throat.
“Oh, Cherise,” Lynx breathed. “Yes, that’s it. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
Cherise did not stop. Instead, she wrapped her hand around his shaft and began to jerk him as she guided the end of his cock between her full, wet lips. He was hard now, so hard, and Cherise shuddered in anticipation of what was to come next.
As much as she enjoyed sucking him off, pulling the length of him into her wet, waiting mouth, she needed him to fuck her again. After having him in her the night before, she was desperate to repeat the experience.
Lynx whimpered when she pulled her mouth off his cock with a wet pop, but she gently shushed him. “Don’t worry, baby, you’re going to be back inside of me in just a sec.” Lynx nodded, his eyes closed with pleasure. “Now come here.”
Cherise got off her knees and grabbed Lynx by the hand, tugging him toward her bed, this one much nicer than the shabby motel back in North Fork. She shed her clothing and pulled Lynx down on top of her, enjoy
ing the way his massive bulk pressed her into the mattress.
He was hard and naked on top of her and Cherise could feel the wet patch between her legs dampening with desire. Lynx grasped his cock with one large, strong hand and guided it toward her entrance.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
Cherise nodded. She was ready, she felt like she’d been ready forever. With one quick thrust, Lynx filled her, spreading her open beneath him with his girthy cock. She threw her head back with a cry and Lynx correctly took that as an encouragement, thrusting into her more enthusiastically. The thickness of him filled her beautifully, and she moaned with pleasure every time he thrust into her again, and again, and again.
Lynx was moaning now, low grunts every time he filled Cherise, and soft cries each time he pulled out. He was getting hungrier now, more desperate.
“Don’t stop, baby,” Cherise encouraged. “Don’t stop, please. Please don’t stop fucking me, Lynx.”
Lynx did not stop fucking her. He drove into her with wild abandon, his pace increasing as his orgasm drew near. “Cherise!” he cried out, his voice wild with need. “Cherise! Cherise! Cher—”
He came with a cry, filling Cherise with the heat of his release. Her own orgasm followed on the heels of his, her release exploding into white light behind her eyelids as she came, crying out his name as the waves of satisfaction swept over her body.
They were both trembling. Cherise didn’t know where she ended and Lynx began. This was so perfect, so divine. She didn’t think that anything could be better than the previous night, but she was wrong. She was so very wrong.
Cherise wondered if every time with Lynx would take them to new heights of pleasure and satisfaction. She didn’t know if her body and mind could take it. She desperately wanted to find out.
Lynx and Cherise held each other through the night, falling asleep in each other’s arms, tangled up in one another.
It wasn’t until the next morning, with sunlight streaming into the room that Cherise turned to Lynx, smiled sadly, and said, “We need to talk.”