by Joya Ryan
Your words hit a spot in my chest I didn’t know I had. The way you look at me, lean into me when you say that has me almost believing you. Almost feeling like a decent man. A capable man.
“I want you,” I admit. This isn’t new information, but I leave out the part I want to say. Which is, all the time.
I kiss you deep and you respond. Instantly opening your mouth for me. You even flick your tongue out as if you can’t wait to taste me. Greedy girl. I like it.
I turn you so your back is against my car and I’m between your legs. Your skin is dewy from the heat and you smell like fresh vanilla. Sunshine and spices. Like God himself forged you from a damn garden. I work your mouth with mine. Keep a steady pace so I can really feel every glide of your sweet tongue and scrape of your teeth. You’re trying to go faster, harder. I love that you’re wild for me, but I want every bit of you. To enjoy you. Just one session and you’re not so shy anymore, are you, baby?
You pull at my belt, my jeans. The adrenaline of wanting you and the speeding car ride have my blood pumping fire. I couldn’t go slow even if I wanted to. But I do want to go deep.
I yank your tank top down and latch onto your ripe nipple. You’re raspberries and cream. Always. And you’re my favorite kind of meal.
I get a hand in your shorts and rub hard at your clit, but you’re already wet. My driving got you excited, baby? Good. Because I’m ready to fuck you hard and—
“Shit,” I say and pull back. “I don’t have a condom.”
“It’s okay,” you say. “Just pull out.”
I meet your face. Your hands are cupping my neck, your thumbs running along my throat. Lovingly. Like I even know what that word means, but in that moment, that’s what I feel.
“I’d never put you at risk. I’m clean.”
“I know. I believe you.”
You’re a gift, Shay. Everything you are goes beyond what is seen. You’re trusting me. Wanting me. I won’t take that for granted.
I should think harder about this, but I can’t. Your mouth is back on mine and there’s not a damn place I’d rather it be.
Your tongue slides along mine. Mouths open, ravenous for each other. I love it. We’re animals and I’m going to fuck you. Plain and simple. Nothing pretty or sweet about it. And I’m going to enjoy feeling you raw. Just the thought has me rock hard.
You unfasten my belt while I pull my shirt over my head. My jeans scrape against my dick as you wedge them down. Your exposed skin sliding across mine, that little beaded nipple cutting my chest in the best way.
I rip open your shorts and shove them down and spin you around.
Your hands splay across the passenger window. I’ll see your fingerprints long after tonight, baby. And I’ll get hard every time I think of this moment, this perfect piece of flesh between your thighs right here…
I run my finger from your clit to your opening. Back and forth. Reaching from behind you and loving how your ass bounces whenever you gasp or squirm.
I kick your feet apart. The desert is dusting up with the motion and I can’t take my eyes off of you.
Back and forth…
Each sweep of my finger along your pussy slit makes your wetter. I linger at your tight entrance. You tense.
“You sure?” I ask. Why are you tensing on me?
“Yes…”
“What is it, Shay? You have to tell me whatever you’re thinking—whatever you want, or don’t want.”
“I just…I like what you’re doing. I want you inside of me and still feeling…” You move your hips, purposefully making my finger move along your weeping cunt again.
Ah, baby, say no more.
“You want everything, don’t you, greedy girl?”
“Yes,” you breathe.
I press you into the car until your nipple is against the cool glass of the window. You want to feel everything; I’ll make that happen. I wish I could have my hands, mouth, and cock all over you, in you, at the same time. I may not be able to do that, but I can get close.
I keep my finger on your clit and grip my hard cock in the other, positioning it at your opening.
“Jesus, you’re crying for me. This sweet little pussy wants to be fucked.”
“Only by you,” you say. And God damn it, no admission ever sounded better.
“Everything, all at once…you hold still, baby, and I’ll give it all to you,” I say.
You nod and spread your legs a little wider. That’s my girl. So eager.
I nudge the crown in, just enough for your hot sheath to grip me. Your breath catches. I pull out, the tip of my cock drenched from you. I run my hand up and with a wide-open hand, press against your lower stomach.
“Still,” I remind you. I hold you in place. “Keep these pretty thighs nice and wide for me.”
You nod.
I keep my free hand near the base of my cock and begin to run my aching, newly wet shaft between your folds. Your clit is a hot nub poking at my cock as I move up and down, massaging your sweet slit.
“Oh, my God,” you say. Your head lolls back, then you snap it up. Staying still like I said? Good girl.
“You want me inside you, but you like it when I pay attention to this sweet little spot right—here—”
I rock again, dragging my dick along you.
“You want both, don’t you?”
“Yes. God, yes, so much. Please, get inside of me.”
You’re close already just from this. Just wait until what comes next…
“I’m a man of my word,” I whisper in your ear then nip your lobe.
With my hand at the base, I shove my cock deep inside of you in one hard stroke.
You scream my name. Your hands slapping the car, trying to keep balance. Every time is better than the last and I forget how fucking hot and tight you are. A dream.
I thrust in and out. Hitting you deep a few strokes, then with a slight flick of my wrist, I pull out, and I’m back, fucking between your folds again, my dick running along your clit.
“Oh, my…I’m…I’m close.”
Oh, I know you are. Problem is, I’m deciding if I’ll let you come from your clit or your pussy. I love being inside you, feeling you milk me with your orgasm. And I am selfish, Shay. I’ve given your fair warning on this.
When you start to tremble, I shove back inside you. You scream again, your hips coming back to meet mine slapping your ass.
“Yes, oh, Coe…”
Nothing will ever sound better than my name on your lips when you come.
Your hot pussy grips me tightly, spasming and drenching me with every lash of your orgasm. That’s all it takes, baby. I’m a wreck with you. I can’t go all night at once because you make me come hard and fast. But I’m never spent. I want to fuck you again even as my current release climbs up my spine. I’m already thinking about the next time. Wanting it to be ten minutes from now. Or ten seconds from now.
“You’re getting harder…” you say.
That’s because I’m going to fucking blow and I’m glad you can feel it. Feel what you do to me.
I grip your hips and pump faster. Right when my dick ticks and balls tighten, I pull out and I’m back between your pretty folds, fucking along your clit as I come outside of you.
You’re slick with me. All over your lower stomach and thighs. I’m surrounding you, yet wishing I was still inside of you. But feeling you raw will haunt my dreams. When you leave me—here. I mean, when you leave here…I’ll think of your velvety cunt every night, trying to relive this moment that is already passing us by.
I shake my head, trying to dislodge the thought. Depression after sex is not attractive. And I don’t need to start thinking now. I kiss the top of your shoulder, then move away. I pull my pants up and grab my T-shirt off the ground. Dusting it off, I wipe up your thighs and pink pussy, cleaning whatever remnants of myself I left on you. I wish it could stay there forever. I wish I could stay in you forever.
I put your shorts on you, sliding them up your
long legs. I kiss your kneecap, then rise to stand as your shorts come to your hips and I button them.
I see your face in the dim car light.
“You’re smiling.”
“Yes, I’ve never been dressed before. I mean, as an adult.”
I glance down.
Your palm rests on my cheek. The warmth and kindness radiate straight from you. Like maybe I’m a better person just being lucky enough to be in your presence.
Another thing I can’t think too long about.
“I better get you home,” I say, and reach to open the passenger side door for you. You nod and slide in.
You don’t say anything to me, but you’re not mad. You’re quiet. But I don’t know what’s going on in that incredible mind of yours. Are you thinking of me? Will you think of me after I drop you—
“Right here is good,” you say and point to the corner an entire block from your house.
“Yeah,” I say and slow to the side. I hate this. How did I go from being inside of you to dropping you off near your house? Not at your house. Near. Because I can’t drop you in the driveway. I can’t be seen with you in any way that could raise eyebrows. Especially your grandmother’s eyebrows.
You look at me, your fingers on the door handle.
“Thanks for the ride,” you say. That’s all you. I want more. Tell me something, anything. Tell me one thing that will hold me over until tomorrow. One damn detail about you just so I can stay an extra second in your presence.
You smile softly, then get out of the car.
You didn’t slam the door, but the loud crash of it shutting jars me. I’m alone, watching you walk up the sidewalk to your house.
I turn my car around in the middle of the dark, quiet road. I look back in my rearview, the sight of you walking away from me makes my chest hurt. Like someone has a grip on my left lung and I can’t breathe right. Do you have any idea of the pull you have on me?
And do you know what I’d do to turn around and spend the night—or two—or several—with you?
Chapter 5
Five days.
It’s been five God damn days since I fucked you in the desert.
Five days since you’ve come on my cock.
Do you have any idea how many times I’ve jacked off in the past hundred-twenty hours? A-fucking-lot. You know why? Because I can’t get your smell or skin or fucking voice out of my mind. I think of your slick pussy welcoming me. Bare. Raw. Like diving into pure, uncut innocence and, Christ almighty, baby, it’s driving me to the brink.
I have no doubts that you’re my drug and I need another hit. Badly.
I’ve driven by your house.
I’ve checked in at Mic’s to see if you’re working.
I just want a glimpse of you and, instead, I’m worried I’m dangerously close to a stalker definition.
You’ve reduced me to this. What’s worse, is I keep playing your words over in my head. You said once that you wanted me. Said that your virginity would be given to me. Said you waited for me.
So maybe it’s fair that I’m waiting for you now.
I’ve cleaned my entire house today. Washed the sheets even. Well, I got the sheets in my car and I’m taking them to Mic’s later. She has the washer and dryer. I’ll likely get roped into watching some shit TV with her while I wait for my blue jersey sheets to tumble. I’m restless. Waiting for the race that could change my life coming up. Waiting for you to reach out to me. You know I can’t call you at your house. You’ve made it clear your grandma would not like that. Not that I’d call.
Now that I think about it, I don’t think I’ve ever called a woman. Even after being sober, I’d just show up to Mic’s bar and someone would be there wanting a good time. Wanting a quick fuck or offering me a backseat blowjob. I’d take it. Enjoy it even. Fucking and racing is what I’m good at, right? Didn’t you tell me so?
I grit my teeth. I don’t give two shits about chasing pussy at Mic’s. But I can’t be a damn hermit loner much longer. You’re messing with my brain, Shay.
I grab the vacuum out of the closet and plug it in. Before I kick the machine into gear, my phone rings. I dig it out of my pocket and answer.
“Hey, sis, what’s up?”
“Hi, I need your help,” Mic breathes hard into the phone. It sounds like she’s been running a marathon. Hair stands up on my neck.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, just running late. Can you go over to the bar? I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
I frown. “Running late from where? Anywhere in Mojave takes five minutes.”
“I’m not in Mojave,” she says quickly. “Can you cover or not?”
“Are you okay? If you’re not in Mojave, then where—”
“Why are you so nosy?”
I laugh. “Well, that’s the pot calling the kettle a pain the ass.”
“That’s not the saying. And, thank you. I’ll see you in about an hour.” Mic hangs up the phone and I look at it before shoving it back into my pocket. An hour, huh? The only thing an hour in any direction was desert, more desert, and the Air Force base.
I don’t pride myself on being “nosy” but I’d have to remember to talk to Mic, at least bust her balls a little. What the hell is she doing?
I grab my keys and run my hand through my hair. Jeans and black T-shirt is my current outfit and all that’s required for Mic’s dress code. Johnny should have covered the afternoon shift, but Mic always works happy hour into the evenings. So, the bar would be picking up here any minute.
I hustle out the door and get to the bar. Like I said, it only takes five minutes to get anywhere around here. At least working behind the counter will give me something to do. Maybe you’ll be there working today?
I walk in and nope, no sign of you. Because I’m not that lucky. But, like I figured, the bar was picking up. Heading into the weekend, people want their beer and a place to relax. Which was Mic’s.
“Where’s Mic?” Johnny said, wiping down the counter.
“Running late. I’m covering.”
“Thanks, man. I’d stay, but Gretta has a cough.”
I nod. Johnny is covered in tattoos and a big guy. His muscles always try to escape his shirt as if they could run back to the gym and continue their dream of body-builder status. The guy is massive and has the smallest, sweetest three-year-old daughter.
“Totally understand,” I say. I don’t. Not really. Maybe never. Because I don’t have kids. I don’t know what it’s like to want to leave to go home to someone. I have my car, my racing, my freedom. Which is enough. All I need.
A shot of pain slices my chest like a tack was just shoved through my ribs. Nothing is there. Just a figment of my imagination. A spot you’re spending a lot of time in lately.
“Tell Mic I’ll see her tomorrow.”
I shake Johnny’s hand quickly and he hustles out the door. There are about ten people scattered around. Five of them at the bar counter. Two trucks pull into the gravel parking lot. Another seven locals heading in. Yep, it’s getting busy quick.
I get behind the counter and check drinks. I see all the familiar faces and I glance up to get a gauge of how many are heading in…
“You,” I say across the bar when you walk in.
You stop dead in your tracks. Tight ripped jeans and black tank top hugging every curve you have.
“What are you doing here?” you ask, continuing your walk toward me.
“I’m filling in for Mic. So, looks like I’m your boss.” I shoot you a wink, trying so damn hard not to show how fucking elated I am to see you. Your red hair is up in a ponytail, your creamy skin glowing. I can’t take my eyes off of you, but I need to. Every other guy in here is looking at you and the crew coming in sits at the two tables near the pool table. Assholes did that so you will have to wait on them. Bend over to put their drinks down…
I pour a beer for Rusty down the bar and you duck under the counter and come to stand by me, looking over the counter.
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br /> “Any orders for me then, boss?” you ask. You look up at me and purposefully bat your lashes. You’re a sassy thing and joke’s on you because I’m hard and ready to give you the order to bend over this bar while I fuck you here and now.
I stare at you. For days, I’ve not seen you or heard you, and now I can smell you. You’re so close. I want to grab that adorable ponytail and demand to know why you haven’t reached out. Why you haven’t come to me in the past few days.
I can’t say any of that now.
“Hey, darlin’, we’ll be over here,” a local calls out from the tables. Like we’re fucking blind.
“Coming!” you say happily back. That word makes my eye tick.
“I heard you say the same thing the other night,” I whisper near your ear. “Only you were screaming it in my ear while calling my name.”
Your face flushes pink as you bite your lip and move away from the bar and toward the tables of customers.
“That was a good night,” you say over your shoulder, your pretty eyes hitting me. You’re being coy. You’ve missed me. I can tell by the way your gaze lingers on me. Rolls down my chest to my belt. You’re staring me down the way I love and I’ve got you thinking about the last time we were together.
I’ve got you thinking about coming.
With me.
And I’m thinking about it too as I watch your perfect ass strut away. Holding a small notepad and pen, you go to the far table and chat with the men there. Some men, two boys. Twenty-one-year-old boys. At least, they better be twenty-one. They look young. And they also look interested in you.
Shit.
They’re your age.
You smile. You have your back toward me but I can still tell that you’re smiling. Your ponytail sways back and forth. You bend over slightly, pad of paper and pen in hand as if you can’t hear the guy in the corner that well, then scribble his order down.
I like the view.
Your ass bent slightly makes me think of how good it’d look bent further over the end of my bed while I fuck you from behind.
You’re lingering. Talking to them. They’re talking to you. Are they telling you you’re beautiful? Asking you out? Giving you compliments and flirting?