Badass

by Linda Barlow

  That sense I’d gotten before of him liking to control the bedroom action got stronger. I didn’t think of myself as submissive, not at all, but something about his penchant for dominating me in the bedroom really got my wheels spinning.

  “Get on your hands and knees, babe.”

  The mattress seemed a little bouncy for that, but I started to do it when he gave me a slap on the ass. “On the floor.”

  I grinned at him. “If you are going to tell me to crawl around, forget it.”

  He laughed and slid to the edge of the bed. “Just kneel. Remember your ass is mine all the way to Cabo.”

  “Fine, Master,” I said, kneeling between his legs and going for his cock. I was pretty sure “suck my dick” was going to be the next command. “But my ass is sore from sitting on a goddamn motorcycle all day, so be gentle with me.”

  “Ha! Not a chance,” he said, fisting my hair and driving his cock into my open mouth. I wasn’t gentle either. I sucked him as well as I could and did a few fancy things with my tongue as he pumped in and out of me. Then I gave him just the tiniest hint of teeth, which made him hesitate. My turn to laugh.

  Looking up I could see the merriment in his eyes. It showed up there every now and then, confirming that the boy had a sense of humor buried somewhere. “You give great head, Cass, but seems you’ve got this tiny streak of aggression, doncha?”

  “You’ll get used to it.”

  “I like it fine,” he retorted, hauling me back up on the bed and pushing me down. A moment later he dived between my legs for some impressive tongue action. “You’re hotter than hell, girl,” he said, next time he took a breath.

  But I was already flying so high I had no words to answer him. He made my core ripple and burn. By the time he started fucking me again I was already tumbling headlong into erotic nirvana. He kept me right on the edge, though. I’m not even sure how he did it. He varied the rhythm just enough that I couldn’t come. “Not until I say you can,” he said, with an evil smile. My body should have ignored him, but for some reason it seemed to hang on his every word.

  “Dammit, I’m almost there,” I moaned.

  “Say my name.”

  Oh god, oh god. I wouldn’t. My body went stiff and I was in that almost-there area where the slightest thing can push you over the edge. But he slowed to a stop, leaving me hanging.

  “Say my name and I’ll let you come.”

  “Jackass!”

  I felt him chuckle. Just the movement of his laughter was enough—my entire body convulsed into something that could have won the Orgasm of the Year award.

  He didn’t seem to mind, and it didn’t take him long to follow me over that knife edge of pleasure.

  Afterward, we cuddled. It felt fine. I liked the way he could laugh during sex. Make me laugh, too. Maybe he wasn’t so awful, after all.

  Chapter 26—Shane

  Cassie’s head rested on my chest. I stared at her naked ass, still bruised from my hand clutching it. Her fingernails were tapping on my chest.

  “Shane, why’d you really become a SEAL?”

  Hell no, not again. I flipped her body off from me. “To kill people.”

  She didn’t flinch. “No seriously. The adventure? To prove something to yourself?”

  “Special Forces are still the only branch in the military where we don’t have to deal with women asking us stupid questions, like you’re doing now.”

  She snuggled up to me. “I get you, I do. It’s the ultimate challenge. So few make it. I respect your determination.”

  “I’m gonna take a walk. Rest your mouth because when I return it’s gonna be sucking on my cock.” I pulled on my shorts and walked out of the hotel room, desperate for some fresh air.

  I hated being psychoanalyzed. It was like when I came home from a fucking deployment and I had to be interrogated by the navy psychiatrists to make sure I wouldn’t run off and kill a bunch of schoolchildren. I fed the quacks what they wanted to hear—killing the enemy didn’t bother me, I slept well at night, I was able to relate and have functional relationships with partners, friends and families.

  Which was all bullshit. I was beyond fucked up. I had nightmares, brutal vicious nightmares starring the faces of the men I’d killed. The only people I could trust were my mom and my Teammates. I’d never trusted another woman, and I doubted I ever could. And despite how great Cassie made me feel, I doubted that she could ever love a killer.

  I dealt with stress my way. Casual sex being my favorite therapy. I’d rather put a bullet in my brain then discuss my feelings.

  Once outside, I sat on the sand in front of the hotel. I planned to stare at the ocean for a while, then pitch my tent and crash—alone. I felt a twang of guilt for expecting her to sleep solo. It was what it was.

  I heard footsteps behind me. Cassie emerged from the hotel. She didn’t even acknowledge me, and slowly stripped off her clothes. The moonlight illuminated her incredible body. I thought she was going to try to talk to me, but she just ran toward the water, her breasts bouncing, her heart-shaped ass leaving me behind.

  I took off my shorts and joined her, pulling her to the surf, wrapping her legs around me. This was more like it, no words, just raw sex, the rhythm of the waves guiding the cadence of our bodies.

  Chapter 27—Cassie

  After we’d fooled around in the surf and on the beach, I’d stumbled back into the little hotel room, taken another quick shower to get rid of the sand, and crawled into bed. I heard him come in a few minutes later and I heard the shower running as he, too, cleaned up. But I must have fallen asleep before he got into bed.

  Shane awakened me the next morning, pounding on the hotel room door. Why was he outside? I could tell it was around dawn, far before my usual rising time, but he’d said we had to get an early start because of the heat. The plan was to travel in the morning before the sun reached its zenith, then stop and rest in the shade for lunch before continuing on later in the afternoon, when it was a bit cooler.

  As I rose from the bed, I noticed his side hadn’t been slept in. At least, it didn’t look as if it had.

  “Why’re you outside?” I asked when I unlocked the door.

  He strolled in and headed for the bathroom. “Get packed up. We need to leave soon.”

  I saw his small tent set up in the sand a few feet outside our door. “Wait. Did you sleep in the tent?”

  “Yeah, I did. So?”

  I looked at the bed, puzzled. It wasn’t huge but it was big enough for two. “Was I snoring or something?”

  “I wouldn’t know.” His voice was cool and clipped. “I sleep alone.”

  I blinked. Was that why he had ordered me to bring my own tent? Holy shit. I thought he wanted an extra one to store all our gear when we were camping out.

  He was already in the bathroom, but I wasn’t about to let this go. I pounded on the bathroom door. “We have a perfectly good hotel room and you slept in a tent? What the fuck, Shane? Are you mad at me for some reason?” I remembered how pissy he’d gotten when I’d tried to probe a little, find out more about him, like why he’d decided to become a SEAL. He’d made it clear that he didn’t want to talk about anything too intimate.

  “It’s got nothing to do with you. Personal habit. I don’t share a bed.”

  “Not even with a lover?” I remembered how he’d kicked me out on our first night together. I hadn’t really wanted to stay with him that night. I’d been a little embarrassed about my reckless behavior, so I’d been glad to get out of there. And on Christmas Eve I’d been so afraid of getting caught that I’d wanted him to leave. But now…we were traveling together now.

  “I don’t have lovers. I fuck. That’s all this is, Cassie. Get packed.”

  Before I could say another word, the water in the shower came on.

  Well fuck you, too!

  But I had to brush a stupid tear out of my eye. We’d had fun yesterday. We were still bickering, yes, but it had such a sexy edge to it. And our lovemaking—er, our
fucking—had been so amazing. I’d thought we were connecting, even if it was mostly physical.

  When he held me and stroked my hair, his touch had seemed tender and caring. He listened to me when I chattered away, and he never sounded bored. But as soon as we stopped sexing for a little while, he pulled back and put up his walls.

  I’d hoped we could be friends, at least. I’d even started liking the jerk a bit. We were going to be stepbrother and stepsister. Didn’t we have to have some sort of relationship?

  I got dressed in my motorcycle duds, tied back my hair, and started rubbing sunscreen all over my face. By the time he got out of the bathroom, I had myself back under control. He wouldn’t see that I thought there was anything weird about his obsessive need for space and privacy. What did I care if we slept in the same bed? I could casual-fuck him all the way to Cabo and then wave goodbye without a qualm. I didn’t need a big, bulky SEAL in my nice little tent.

  But deep down inside, something felt almost scarily empty. I was not going to let myself feel anything for him, dammit. Attachments led to pain and the terror that I might lose someone. I’d never thought my Mom could get sick and die. She’d been completely healthy until, one day, she wasn’t. The cancer had taken her quickly, too. I’d never had the chance to get accustomed the idea, and, bam, she was gone.

  I wasn’t going to let myself get accustomed to Shane. That would only lead to heartbreak. Even if we ended up liking each other, we could never be together—our parents had made certain of that.

  I was outside with my stuff before Shane even got out of the bathroom. If he could be ready to leave at dawn, so could I.

  Chapter 28—Cassie

  Shane had warned me that the second day’s ride would be tough, and he wasn't kidding. First of all, I was stiff. I’d known my ass would be sore from sitting on the bike, but I was surprised to find my legs and knees hurting, too. So many hours in one position, I guess. I felt as if I’d spent the previous day horseback riding.

  Shane wanted to get to the Guerrero Negro area by nightfall, which was more than 200 miles. At first the road ran along the coast, passing through some small towns. In one of these villages, I saw a couple of guys on motorcycles blow by, leaving dust in their wake. They didn’t slow for the pedestrians; they weaved around them or just went full tilt, scattering people. One of them almost ran over a woman who was pushing a stroller, which caused several of the townsfolk to cry out and shake their fists at the bikers.

  Assholes, I thought. I was pretty sure they were the same two creepy bikers who had tried to chat me up just before the Mexican border. Those guys were bad news.

  After about an hour, just past El Rosario, the road turned inland. The mountainous landscape was barer, more like scrub desert, and not as developed as the former vineyard region had been.

  We had to stop for gas, but there were no gas stations. Instead we found a dude selling gasoline out of drums in the back of his truck. I felt far from home, yet charmed at the same time. We were really in Baja now.

  We didn't quite make it to Guerrero. I’m sure Shane could tell I was tired and hurting, although I was determined not to grouse about it. He decided to stop at a sorry-looking campsite on the outskirts of town. Since there was a cantina that actually looked as if it had a bathroom, I was happy to climb stiffly off the bike. Damn, I thought as I hobbled in search of bladder relief, why hadn’t I insisted we take my car?

  “So this is where we’re camping, huh?” When I got back from the john, I surveyed the sandy campgrounds with some dismay. It did boast a few scrubby trees, but it wasn’t exactly scenic.

  “Yup. It has everything we need.” As he said that, he looked at me as if he dared me to deny it. I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction.

  “Fine with me,” I said, trying to sound as cheerful as possible. “What do you want me to do?”

  “You can help me set up the tents.”

  Tents. Plural. So we were camping in a desolate campground and that’s how he wanted to play it? Okay. But I was going to have some input into this idiocy, too.

  I did everything he told me to do. When we got the tents erected, side by side, he unpacked the gear we needed, and ordered me to gather fuel for our campfire. It was getting cool, so I guess having a fire made sense. I gathered a bunch of sagebrush, twigs, and broken branches while he walked over to the cantina to fill our empty water bottles and get us some supper.

  I hadn’t made a campfire for a while, but I wanted to show him that I wasn’t a slouch when it came to camping out. I think I did okay. Other than suggesting that I dig the fire pit a little deeper next time because there was so much dry scrub around, he didn’t have much to criticize.

  I enjoyed my bean and cheese taco.

  “You can eat this, I hope? It isn’t meat or shellfish,” Shane said, and I nodded, happy he’d remembered.

  We had some great local fruits and veggies with our tacos and a couple of cold beers. Later he made coffee over the fire and we enjoyed that. It was simple, but everything tasted delicious.

  When darkness fell, the stars were amazing. So bright. You never see stars like this in Southern California, or back in Boston, either. No city lights out here to mar the view. “This is fun,” I said, lying back on the ground to trace the familiar constellations with my forefinger. “It’s been a while since I took a vacation, and an even longer while since I’ve been in the wilderness.”

  “The sky is beautiful, isn’t it?” He pointed out some of his favorite constellations. He was knowledgeable about the stars and we started chatting randomly about space and the possibilities of parallel universes and the unlikelihood of faster-than-light travel. He was well-informed and more scientifically literate than I had expected. I remembered him telling me he was self-taught. We talked about some books we had both read, and it began to get through to me that Shane was actually quite bright.

  I asked him about his mom, and he talked a bit about her. It sounded like they had a close relationship. He was proud of the guide business she had built up in Montana, and I told him I thought it was pretty cool, too.

  At some point, silence fell between us, but it felt comfortable. Then Shane rolled over and kissed me, nearly sabotaging the plan I’d come up with on the long and winding road.

  Oh God, this was going to be difficult, but I forced myself to pull away. No, no, my body screamed at me, but I ignored it.

  I don’t have lovers. I fuck.

  Okay, buddy. Let’s run a little test.

  I yawned and stretched, then I pushed myself up to my feet. I jerked my top back down, covering my breasts and adjusted my pants, trying to pretend my sex wasn’t already soaking wet and aching for him.

  “Hey. Where’re you going?”

  “To my sleeping bag, of course. Much more comfy. Plus I think a mosquito just bit me.” I opened the flap of my tent and crawled in. Shane apparently thought my words were an invitation, because he started to follow. Before he could fill my tent with his big body, I pulled the flap down right in his face. “Sorry, dude. I sleep alone.”

  There was a moment of explosive silence, then Shane pushed the flap aside. “You’re not sleeping yet.”

  “Oh, yes I am. I’m tired.”

  “Bullshit. Don’t play games with me.” He took my chin in his hand and pulled my face to his. He planted one on my lips. I sighed and kissed him back. Then I pushed him away.

  “I’ve decided separate beds make total sense, dude. After all, we’re about to be brother and sister, aren’t we? So be a good boy and go lie in your own tent.”

  “Cassie—“

  “Don’t worry. You’re right next door, so I’m sure you’ll be able to protect me from any dangers of the desert. Coyotes or jackals or snakes or whatever. I have complete faith in you.”

  “Quit foolin’ around, princess. I know you want exactly what I want. You’re wet for me, aren’t you? And I am hot and hard for you.”

  Damn. His voice was enough to make me melt. What I really wa
nted was to melt all over his fingers, all over his tongue, and most of all, all over his cock. “I don’t have lovers,” I said, quoting him. “But I don’t just go out and fuck a lot of guys, either. What I do do, you can still appreciate from your own tent. I’ll probably make quite a clamor.”

  “What the fuck, Cassie?”

  “I’m going to play with myself. Self-pleasure. Masturbate. Whatever you want to call it. You’re welcome to listen. You can even shout encouragement. Why don’t you jerk off in your own tent, too? Maybe we can time it so we come together.”

  He growled and burst through the flap of my tent, fell on top of me, and then rolled me over so I was straddling him. I started to laugh. He swatted my ass a couple of times and I laughed even harder. Then he was laughing, too.

  Then we fucked. Or maybe even made love, at least a little bit. When I fell asleep, he was still there, holding me tightly. I could feel his heartbeat, slow and steady against my chest.

  But next time I woke, he was gone.

  Sure enough, the jerk had left me and gone to sleep in his own tent.

  Wow. He was such a stubborn hardass. I wondered what had turned him into such a solitary man.

  Chapter 29—Shane

  I tossed and turned in my tent but I couldn’t fall asleep, even though I was tired as fuck. Long ride, marathon sex session, yet the sandman eluded me.

  I barreled out of my tent and patrolled the campsite. A few other tents, some smelly surfer looking dudes smoking weed by their filthy RV. This place blew—I hadn’t wanted to stop here, but I could tell Cassie was getting tired. I’d been heading toward this nice site in Guerrero Negro. Had a restaurant, wifi, and even whale-watching tours. I was even thinking of surprising her with an early dawn excursion. Maybe we could even still make it if we left at dawn.

  I wasn’t trying to be romantic, but I did want her to have a good time. She’d gone along with all my plans so far, so I’d wanted to do something nice for her.

  I knelt outside of Cassie’s tent—maybe if I snuck back in there and wrapped my arms around her tight little body I could drift off to sleep. Or better yet, she’d feel my rock hard cock pressing against her ass and we could go for another round. But she looked so peaceful, her chest slowly contracting, her body curled into a small ball, her hands tucked under her chin in some sort of prayer position. I wondered what she was dreaming about—could it be me?