by JC Szot
Her mother never gave a rat’s ass. Cara wondered if her mother even realized that she was gone. Her mind returned to something brighter, the way Mick’s hand had felt in hers, strong and stable, how their fingers fit as if tailor-made.
Mick had never really touched her much in all the years they’d been friends. Only a gesture of platonic affection during her times of frustration or on her birthday. Would she ever want more from him? She’d never considered it.
The only intimate experience she’d ever had hadn’t been pleasant. Before the evil image of that night came together, Cara directed her musings down another, more favorable road. As the notion formed, the physical ache that lingered in the pit of her belly slowly woke up, yawning and yearning. It was an ache that Cara could only ever nourish through fiction.
Down and Dirty. Tim and Erin.
Cara got up and rummaged in her pack, pulling out the tattered paperback. She didn’t know how long she had to read, but she settled back on the bed and dove in.
****
“Here?” Erin gasped as Tim’s hands roved over her body in the dark closet. The brush of coarse wool scratched over her skin, the hangers clinking on either side of them. Tim pushed back on the weighted garments, wanting more room.
“Oh, yeah,” Tim whispered. His breaths blew hot on her neck before searing teeth closed on her flesh. Dampness collected between her thighs.
They were attending his cousin’s wedding, the cake about to be wheeled out onto the floor.
“It’s the thrill of getting caught. It just makes it all the hotter,” Tim said, his tone gruff with need.
He pulled up her dress. Tim’s fingers trailed up her thigh, scoring through her as he impatiently yanked her thong out of his way.
“Spread your legs wider.” His fingers pressed on her hot folds, searching for her clit. As he rubbed his thumb over the sensitive nub, his cock nudged at her slick entrance. “Going in.” He huffed, thrusting his hips. A dull thud sounded as Tim slammed her body against the wall. He gripped her legs, hoisting her up. Her spine met the sheetrock, cooling the line of fire that’d ignited up her spine.
“Ah, God!” Tim growled. His chest rumbled against hers. Liquor-laced breaths hit her face as his stiff, stretched flesh knifed through her. He was painfully hard, sliding into her depths before her walls could accommodate him. “So good, tilt your hips a bit,” his request ground out between clenched teeth.
Erin tipped her hips, meeting the sleek underside of his cock as it reamed in and out of her pussy. Explosive jolts of pleasure shot through her belly. Her legs dangled around his hips like withering vines.
“Yeah, baby, right there … I’m coming, blowing a load that’s all for you.” His voice sounded hoarse, his chest heaving.
Erin swept the damp strands of hair out of Tim’s eyes, his gaze wide, his eyes glossed with gratification. Tim’s hand pushed between their bodies. His touch zeroed in on her clit. The pads of his fingers swirled over her sweet spot. A shrilling whine spilled from her mouth.
Tim’s mouth crushed into hers, silencing her cries as their bodies rocked, absorbing every contraction of a shared orgasm that raged.
****
A pounding thundered through her fictitious stage. Cara jumped off the bed, burying her book deep into the bottom of her pack, her heart fluttering between her ribs.
“Cara,” Mick called. “Burgers are getting cold.”
Chapter Seven
Mick reclined back on the bed, the TV muted. Cara slept soundly on the other bed, having dozed off shortly after a full, hot meal. He tried to distract himself, but his evil intruder continuously yanked him back, dousing him with the cold reality that his plan had some weak spots that he needed to tweak, and fast.
They needed more money. Mick knew where he wanted to eventually settle. He hadn’t discussed this with Cara. He didn’t want to overload her all at once. It was making it to their destination without living like they’d had to back home that kept him awake with worry. If he couldn’t make it better, then what was the point?
Mick wanted to plant roots in southern New Jersey. He wanted to be near the sea. He wanted to smell the damp, salty surf and gorge on all the summertime concessions that the boardwalk amusements would provide. He’d always loved the ocean, ever since his parents had taken him and his brother to Sea Isle City.
It was a fluke of a vacation. Someone his father worked with had offered them the house for free. How that transpired, Mick had been too young to recall. It was the one bright memory of his childhood and he’d never forgotten. That was before his brother excelled at basketball, expecting the family to build their lives around his dream.
They could get jobs and hopefully live in the same space, and maybe even share the same bed. Mick’s flesh tingled with the thought.
Cara looked so peaceful, sprawled across the width of the mattress. Her hair was loose, streaming across the pillow like golden grass. Her chest rose in deep, even breaths. The thin, putrid-green bedspread covered the curved lines of her supple body, flesh he wanted to put his hands and mouth on.
A whirl of heat began to spin in his groin like a relentless funnel cloud. Mick licked his lips, feeling his cock sprout in his pants. The things he wanted to do to her and show her. After years of an imagination running wild, being in such close quarters with her definitely tested him.
Mick crawled off the bed and grabbed his coat. He’d spotted several vending machines and an ice machine down at the end of corridor. He needed a cool-down, so he stepped out into the cold, night air, safely locking Cara inside.
He made his way down the open corridor. Lines of lights slowly snaked over the horizon, the interstate still busy. Mick glanced down into the parking lot, seeing a few cars parked, their trunks open.
“That’s fucking bullshit! I was counting on you. We’re supposed to open in five days.” Mick gave a curt nod as he passed by an aggravated stranger to gain access to the coffee machine. He dropped his change in and made his selection. The angry one-sided conversation carried through the dark night air as Mick waited for his coffee. He set the steaming cup down and got Cara a hot chocolate, her favorite beverage.
“For fuck’s sake!”
Mick turned, meeting a pair of gleaming eyes.
“Sorry.” The stranger raised his hand. “You can’t count on anybody these days,” he said through huffing breaths. He flipped his cell phone closed, shoving it into the top pocket of his shirt. “Nobody gives a shit, man.” He shook his head in disgust. He took a cigarette out of his pocket, lighting the end. Angry lines of smoke shot out of his nose, clouding the air between them.
Mick sipped his coffee, feeling awkward and unsure of how he should respond.
“Sounds like someone left you high and dry? I’m sorry…” Mick scrambled, now trying to assess the situation. His new acquaintance came to his aid.
“I’m opening up my own business in five fucking days, and this so-called friend of my brother’s was supposed to help me. Now I’m screwed. I need manpower.”
“Um … well, maybe I could give you a hand,” Mick said, treading cautiously. “I wasn’t planning on being here long, but if there’s a way I could make some extra cash, I’m willing to help.” This would give him the chance to recoup the funds he’d spent for Cara’s urgent care.
“No shit,” the man laughed. A shrewd grin tugged at his mouth, his facial expression now relaxing. “Name’s Barry Edgewater.”
“Mick Terrel.” Mick reached for his hand. After the brief exchange, Barry explained what he’d need Mick to do. Mick informed Barry that he was only staying in town for a day or two because the cost of the room would set him back. The idea was to make money, not lose more, but when Barry offered to pay the tab for Mick and Cara’s room, it appeared that Barry was desperate.
“I even booked a room here for that son-of-a-bitch. He kept bitching and moaning that he couldn’t stay at my place because of his allergies. I have two dogs… Damn asshole.” Barry sighed, shaking
his head. He turned his back, taking one last drag off his cigarette, tossing the butt into the night air. “I knew when I asked for him at the desk and they looked at me like I had ten heads that he’d screwed me over,” he told Mick, glancing back at him.
“I’m glad to help. Like I said, I could use the money. I just don’t have a car,” Mick said. A twinge of ineptness crept over him.
“No problem. I’ll swing by in the morning and pick you up. How’s seven sharp?” Barry asked, running a hand through a mop of tousled blonde hair. “Need to get an early start.”
“I’ll meet you right down there,” Mick told him, pointing to the front entrance down below.
“Great,” Barry smiled. “What a relief. What room are you in? I’ll go take care of the tab right now.”
“I’m in 209, and hey … thanks,” Mick smiled, savoring the relief that was now calming his previously tormented insides. “This cup of coffee tastes so much better now.”
The men laughed, shaking hands again. Mick returned to the room, a bit lighter on his feet.
****
Cara woke up to the flickering glow of a muted TV. She sat up, seeing Mick’s bed rumpled but vacant. She stood up, feeling a wave of uncertainty. Just then she heard the lock turn in the door.
A gust of cold air swooshed into the room as Mick balanced the two paper cups and closed the door, locking it behind him.
“What happened? Where were you?” Cara accepted the cup he held out to her.
“I just ventured out for some coffee, thought you’d want a hot chocolate,” he said, removing his coat and hat. “It looks like we’ll be holed up here for a few days. You okay with that?” Mick asked.
“Sure. I guess. Why, what’s going on?” Cara peeled the plastic lid back. “Is everything all right?” Her stomach tensed. They’d had enough setbacks so far.
“Oh yeah,” Mick smiled. “This is good. I got a job and our room’s paid for in full,” he told her, raising his cup in a toast.
Chapter Eight
“It is?” Cara sat back down on the bed, dumbfounded. She was trying to decipher the pleased look that had softened the often tight lines of Mick’s face.
“It’s the weirdest thing, but hey … shit happens for a reason,” he said, laughing as he sat down next to her. His scent swarmed around them. It was cool and crisp as the fresh, night air escaped from his clothes, the heat of the room seasoning him.
Mick ran through the series of events that transpired while getting their beverages.
“Wow, that’s great. Is there anything I can do to help out?” Cara asked.
“Yeah,” Mick grinned. “Maybe you could walk down and visit me during my lunch break or something. Barry mentioned that his new business isn’t far from here, some eatery or something.”
Mick’s eyes rested on hers, holding her gaze. Cara gripped her cup, feeling her breath still inside her lungs. His expression was peculiar, not one of the usual looks he often wore.
“Ah, okay.” Cara chuckled. “I’ll come down. I just wanted to try and help out with the medical expenses, that’s all,” she said. She suddenly felt nervous and wasn’t sure why. Mick’s gruff tone broke through.
“You’ll have plenty of time to work later. You have to let your arm heal,” he said, running a hand over his head. Mick’s hair was growing in, his scalp covered with a thin coating of dark growth. Cara wondered how long he would let it grow out before buying clippers. “I need a shower. Barry’s picking me up out front at about seven tomorrow morning, so…” His words stalled. Cara stood and claimed a chair at the small table.
“Okay, well, I’m taking one tomorrow. My hair’s starting to stink,” she told him, feeling her lips press together.
“I don’t smell anything on you that I shouldn’t.” Mick turned, his eyes pinning her again. Cara laughed, fussing with the lid of her hot chocolate, fighting a reserve that felt odd.
His feet scuffed across the carpeting as he strolled to the bathroom, closing the door. The fan kicked on, then the sounds of spraying water.
Cara sat back in the chair, trying to follow a TV show that’d been muted for the entire episode. The mere thought of Mick being behind that door, naked and washing his body under a torrent of soapy water, had her unable to concentrate on much else.
Flames of bashful heat filled her cheeks. Cara shook her head abruptly, attempting to shrug off the notion, but her imagination was unyielding.
Why am I thinking this? It’s ludicrous!
While Mick was in the bathroom, Cara quickly got changed. She laid her jeans and sweater over the chair and stepped into her sweatpants and t-shirt. It would certainly be different, living in such close quarters with him.
She was already distracted, conjuring up the possible visuals of Mick’s nakedness. The books in her backpack called, but there wasn’t enough time. Men didn’t loiter in the bathroom like women. As this thought was completed the bathroom door opened, force-feeding thoughts that’d been running wild.
A rolling cloud of steam spilled into the room. Cara turned. Her eyes caught the bare flesh of Mick’s muscular back. His shoulder blades shifted below his skin as he dried his head and proceeded to brush his teeth. Black sweatpants hung on his hips. The tight ripples of his sleek abdomen glittered with beads of residual moisture. His dark nipples were beaded as if pimpled from the cold. Deep lines formed a V, accentuating the male lines of his groin.
That same sensation Cara felt before came rushing back. Her stomach felt funny. Not quite queasy, but off balance. Mick’s eyes darted back to hers, catching her gaze in a mirrored image she wasn’t accustomed to seeing. Cara looked away and reached for the remote, tossing it on his bed.
Cara had brushed her teeth before Mick arrived with the hot chocolate. She really should brush them again, but the thought of standing that close to him and engaging in something so personal, side by side, had her pulling the spread back and diving beneath the covers.
A sleepy sigh expelled from her mouth. Cara wasn’t sure what this rush of internal upheaval was that she felt burning in her bones. It sometimes came with her erotic reading. The romantic scenarios seeped into her parched body, fueling a need that was often left neglected. Cara had only ever fed that need once.
Masturbation was something that felt nice while engaging, but left her feeling guilty and empty afterward.
Light dimmed behind her lids. The rustling of sheets filled the quiet room. Mick’s throaty voice filled the darkness.
“Goodnight.”
“Night.” Cara felt her mouth curl into a smile, hugging the covers around her a bit tighter.
****
Insomnia was becoming an issue. Mick couldn’t sleep. Cara’s breaths echoed in his ears like an oscillating sea. Mick’s eyes battled the darkness that draped over the room. A narrow strip of fluorescent light pushed through the crack in the curtains, lighting up her lithe form beneath the covers.
Cara’s face was still. His eyes traveled over the fine-boned structure of her face. She’d put her hair up. Gathered strands stemmed from her ponytail, trailing down her back. How long should he continue to wear this mask?
Mick knew that Cara hadn’t bothered with any guys, not that he knew of. His thoughts wandered, questioning if there was anything he didn’t know. Is she a virgin? His dick bucked inside his sweatpants. The notion of baptizing her with any type of physical affection and contact had his balls pruning with a searing heat. Christ, I need another shower, a cold one.
Chapter Nine
Cara heard the door click closed, the lock engaged. She rolled over and stretched. While Mick was gone, she’d take a shower. As she got out of bed, she saw his note on the small table.
Cara, Barry’s eatery is four blocks down on the right. Keep a watch out for a large black-and-red sign—Barry’s Morning Joe. See ya … Mick.
He’d left her ten dollars for breakfast, though the hotel provided a free continental breakfast.
A shower was in order. After slathering hersel
f with soap and shampoo and carefully washing her suture line, Cara dried off and applied a new dressing. The sutures looked good and her wound appeared to be healing quickly.
After walking down to a bustling lobby, Cara got juice, coffee, and two bran muffins. Once back in the room, she noted that she had about two hours before setting out to visit Mick.
She reclined back on the bed and dove into Down and Dirty.
****
“That was a great wedding,” Tim said, his laughter cynical.
“Sure was.” Erin grinned, sashaying toward him. “What’s on tap for this beautiful Saturday morning?” she asked, tugging at his towel. It fell from Tim’s waist, pooling on the floor between them. His eyes glittered as he slowly pet his cock. It lengthened under the workings of his own hand.
“Well, I know we’re going shopping,” he grinned. “It wouldn’t be Saturday without a shopping spree,” Tim said, his tone darkening with lust. “Before we cater to your needs, I’d sure like one of mine to be met.” He settled on the edge of the vanity, his legs spread, his feet swinging playfully. “Lose the towel, babe, bow before me and suck my cock,” he whispered. “You do it so good.” Tim tilted his hips with anticipation. His head fell back, preparing to absorb every wondrous sensation of Erin’s mouth.
Heavy breaths rasped through the air. The steam thinned, settling on their skin. Erin loved it when Tim got all dominant on her. She ripped the towel from her moist body and began to sway her hips, thrusting her breasts into his face. She cupped one and fed it to him as Tim opened his mouth, growling at her.
“Yeah, babe, so hot.” He licked her nipple, chewing on it briefly before Erin sank to the floor in front of him. She took his cock in her warm hand, running the leaky tip up and down her cheek, teasing him with what she knew was a wicked glint in her eyes. “Take me,” Tim gasped, thrusting his hips.