I groaned, knowing exactly what she meant. “Fuck, woman. I ain’t had anything but my own hand since you left, and even that didn’t feel right, till I talked to you. I’m on a hell of a hair trigger right now. And I need you. About to fuckin’ pop, if I don’t get inside you right the fuck now.”
She tugged my boots off. My socks. My jeans. Tossed them all in the truck. My underwear last, and then we were both naked in the sunset light, and she was cradling my shaft in her hands. Stroking me.
“Just let me do this, Crow. I want to. I need to. I’ve been fantasizing about this for weeks. If you’re really that close to coming already, then all the better—I can get you hard all over again and we can fuck until we pass out.”
I palmed her cheek. “Don’t wanna just fuck you, Charlie. Want to make love to you.”
“I want it to be both. Everything. I want to find out what it is. How many different ways it can be.” She twisted her fist around the head of my cock, gazing at it. “And right now, it’s going to be me making you come in my mouth.”
“Fuuuck,” I snarled. “Careful what you wish for, darlin’.”
“Oh, I think I know exactly what I’m wishing for.”
She suited words to action, taking me in her mouth, and as I watched my cock sink between those plump pink lips, felt her tongue on me, felt her mouth tight and wet around me, I knew I wasn’t going to last a fucking minute.
I also knew I was helpless. I wanted this.
“Fuck, Charlie,” I groaned again. “Don’t know what you’re doing to me.”
She made a wordless sound, an affirmation, and I was gone, just gone, watching her slide her mouth up, lick the tip, slide back down. Taking her time.
“I’d be…oh fuck. I’d be lying like a dog if I didn’t admit I’d jerked off more than a few times, imagining you doin’ this.”
She smiled around me, gazing up at me as she slid her lips down around me, tongue fluttering and licking. Palm around my sac, massaging, cradling. Her other hand moved around my base, gently stroking the root, pumping me.
She let me pop out of her mouth. “I watched videos on how to do this.”
I choked. “You—you what?”
“I watched porn video tutorials on how to give a really, really good blowjob.”
“You…” I lost my breath and my train of thought as she sank me into her mouth. “You really didn’t need lessons, babe. Did just fuckin’ fine the last time.”
But damn, did she put what she’d learned to good use—made me feel like I’d never felt in my life. Desperate. Brought me to the edge and stopped, did something else, until I was aching and pulsing and growling.
“Goddamn, Charlie, what the fuck are you tryin’ to do to me?”
She just shrugged, a lithe, sinuous movement that made her tits do incredible things, and then kept going.
All of a sudden, she stopped playing.
Her fist started pumping faster, and her mouth moved up and down relentlessly, and I rose to the edge, lifting on my toes, rocking back on my heels, snarling. An instant, and I was there.
Riding the ragged messy edge of climax.
“Charlie—shit, shit, shit, I’m gonna—oh fuck, right now, Charlie, I’m gonna fuckin’ come so goddamn hard…”
She went deeper, and I had my hands in her long thick hair, holding on to her braid, pulling, and she backed away, gasped for air, and then slid me down her throat again, pumping me hard and fast, and I was helpless to hold back now.
I exploded with a bellow, hips thrusting hard, and she used both hands on my shaft, pumping me until I lost my breath, cum detonating out of me and her mouth sucked hard around me and I heard her swallowing, gulping, gulping, and she didn’t stop, kept pumping me until there was nothing left and I was shaking, shuddering, weak in the knees.
Finally, she let my softening cock flop out of her mouth and I helped her stand up.
“Jesus, Charlie,” I gasped.
She grinned, wiped at the corner of her mouth. “Wow. Just…wow.”
“Yeah, I’d say wow is about right.”
She tugged me by the hand to the trailer, and opened the door. She looked around as she went in. “This is so cute, Crow.”
“I had it remodeled a few years ago, in case I ever wanted to use it. It was pretty dated.”
“I love it.” She shut the door behind me, glanced at the end of the trailer where the bed was. “I could see us living in this. I love it.” She backed toward the bed, pulling me with her. “Right now, though, I only care about one thing.”
“What’s that?”
She sank back on to the bed. Shimmied backward, reaching for me. Pulled my face to her thighs. “This. More of this. Make me come again, Crow.”
“Until you beg me to stop, baby.”
She shook her head as I buried my face against her. “No, just until you get hard again.”
“That’ll be in about thirty seconds, the way I feel about you.”
“The sooner, the better.” She gazed at me, her eyes fluttering as she rose to the cusp on my tongue. “I need you inside me.”
I made her come twice, and she went over the edge screaming my name.
She lifted up, after she’d recovered from the second one, and gazed at me, eyes raking down my body. “Nearly there,” she said, eying my hardening cock. “Maybe I can speed things along a little.”
She shoved me to my back, roughly, and straddled me. Slid down my body. Bent over me.
Her mouth brought me to full erection in seconds. “Condom?” she whispered.
I reached up, opened a drawer over my head, yanked a box out. She took it from me, ripped it open, tore a condom off the string, snagged it open with her teeth. Rolled the condom onto me with both hands, and then lifted up.
“I’ve been waiting for this,” she said. “I wanted to ride you like this the day we met. I just didn’t know it.”
I was going to say something, but all thoughts were blasted out of my head as she lifted up, guided me to her slit, and sat down on me. Took all of me, fast and hard, sinking down with a loud cry of ecstasy.
“Fuck, fuck yes,” she moaned, head dropping forward as she braced her hands on my chest. “Fuck yes. You feel so good inside my pussy, Crow.”
“The way you talk dirty makes me so fuckin’ hot, Charlie.”
She grinned, rolling her hips. “Yeah? You like it when I talk dirty?”
“You’re so sweet, so innocent. Make you come a couple times, and you’re a fuckin’ dirty, nasty little wildcat. I love it so fuckin’ much.”
“I can’t help it,” she murmured. “You woke up something inside me, and it won’t’ go back in.”
“Good,” I said. “Let it out. Go as fuckin’ wild as you can get. Show me how bad you want it, how much you like it.”
She leaned forward, hands braced on my chest, and circled her hips, moving nothing but her hips in slow rolling sensuous maddening circles. “I love your cock, Crow. I want to ride all night, all day. I want you to bend me over this bed and fuck me till my ass hurts from the way you pound into me.” She sank down, groaning. “I’ve come so many times, remembering how you fucked me over that sink.”
“Fuckin’ so good.”
“Can we get a mirror so I can watch us?” She raked her claws down my chest. “I want to watch us fuck. I want to watch myself ride your cock. I want to watch you fuck me from behind.”
She was moving faster, now, and I had no choice but to meet her there. Faster, harder. She braced one hand on my chest and used the other to finger her clit, helping herself get there faster, better.
Her tits shook, bounced with our movements, and I lifted up, latched onto one and suckled until she whimpered, and then she came, my cock deep inside her, my mouth on her tits, her fingers on her clit.
She came all over me, and I watched her come. “Crow, god, ohmygod, Crow!” She cried, screaming as she rode me through her orgasm. “Fuck, I love you so fucking much, Crow!”
When she stoppe
d coming, she slowed her hips. “You come yet?”
I shook my head. Lifted her off me. Rolled her to her knees. She fell forward, thrust her ass up, presenting herself to me. I pushed in, her fingers guiding me home. Drove deep.
“Talk to me, Crow. Talk to me while you fuck me.”
God her mouth, so dirty.
My hips slapped against her ass, and she cried out. I groaned, knowing this would be fast.
“Can’t fuckin’ stand it, like this. Too fuckin’ good, the way you feel.” I set a rhythm, and she shoved back into me, begging for more, begging for faster, for harder. “I fuckin’ love you, Charlie. You’re everything I never knew I needed and wanted, baby. I want to make love to you every single fuckin’ day of our lives till we’re a hundred and twenty.”
“Just once a day?” she teased. “Promise me at least twice a day.”
“As much as you can handle, love.”
“Everything you have, Crow. That’s what I can handle. Just love me. Just fucking love me forever.”
“Touch your clit, Charlie. Let me feel you come around my cock one more time.”
She obeyed, and started shaking and losing her rhythm within seconds.
And that was all I needed. I felt it rise like a volcanic eruption, and I didn’t try to stop it.
I pounded into her sweet sex, her ass shaking and jiggling as I drilled into her, like she’d begged me for.
I came, and she came with me. She called my name as she came, and she told me she loved me about a hundred times:
“I love you, Crow, Crow, Crow, I fucking—I fucking love you, Crow. I love you, Crow, oh god I’m coming so hard!”
I saw stars, felt faint. I came until I ached, and we collapsed together into a heap on the bed.
I cradled her in my arms.
She touched my cheek with her lips. “Is this our forever, Crow. Promise me it is. No matter what?”
“No matter what.” I turned my face to hers, captured a long, slow, deep kiss. “Forever love, Charlie-girl.”
“You going to make an honest woman out of me?”
I laughed. “That what you want?”
“I mean, every girl dreams of it.”
“You realize, in terms of our time together, we’ve known each other, like, a week?”
“It’s crazy, I know. Doesn’t have to be soon.” She laughed. “I just wanted to see if it would scare you off.”
“Nope.” I tapped my chin. “Matter of fact…”
I sat up, dislodging her from my chest. She sat up, watching me. I rummaged in a drawer over the bed, my junk drawer.
Not junk, just random stuff. The box I pulled out certainly wasn’t junk.
The box, a small wooden thing, made by River Dog, was smooth, made of walnut. No design, just the wood, the top lifting off. Within was a cushion of velvet. A small, old, delicate ring made of twisted gold.
“This was Mammy’s. She and River Dog were never married, you know. Not in the white culture sense. They were just… them. This is the ring River Dog gave her when he asked her to be his forever.” I showed it to her. “He made it. She wore it every day of her life. And when she passed, the day she knew she was going, she gave it to me. Didn’t say nothin’, but didn’t have to.”
“Crow…” she gasped. “I wasn’t asking you to—”
“I ain’t askin’ you to marry me. Maybe someday, if we decide that’s what we want. This is just me askin’ you to be mine.”
She took the ring from me, slid it onto her right hand ring finger. “I already was, Crow. But now I’ve got your ring on so everyone knows.”
I fell to the bed, taking her with me, holding her on my chest. “Love you, Charlie-girl. I love that you don’t hesitate to try the crazy shit. To wear my ring when we barely met each other.”
“Time is irrelevant, Crow. I know you. You know me. My heart knows how I feel about you. My body knows it’s meant for yours. My mind says this is a little crazy, a lot fast, but my brain is an idiot. My brain picked Glen because he was safe, and the good girl choice.”
“I sure as shit ain’t the good girl choice.”
“But you’re the right choice for me,” she said. “Now. Feed me, and make love to me again. This time, on a blanket outside. I’ve always wanted to have sex outside.” She giggled. “The blowjob doesn’t count as having sex outside. But it was hot.”
“Hot? Woman, you about killed me.”
She grinned. “I think I just might be a fan of giving you blowjobs.” She wiggled her eyebrows, silly, goofy, but hot as fuck. “This is good news for you.”
“Keep talkin’ about blowjobs, Charlie darlin’, and you won’t get food before we go again.”
“Oooh, baby, threaten me with a good time, why don’t you,” she purred, reaching for me, finding me nearly ready again. “God, how fast can you be ready again? It’s been what, ten minutes?”
I laughed. “Honey, it’s you. You do things to me.”
“Well, I like doing things to you.” She pulled at me. Drew me closer. Hauled me down over her and slid me home. “I can wait to eat.”
I groaned at the feel of her, bare. “I ain’t wearing a condom.”
“You’ll just have to pull out and come all over me, then, won’t you?”
I bent, laughing into her breasts. “You lost your damn mind, woman. You really want that?”
“I want everything, Crow. I want it dirty, and rough, and wild, and sweet, and messy.”
I made her come two times. Three? I lost track, so did she. And when she knew I was close, she pushed me so I pulled out, and her sweet soft quick hands stroked me slowly until I made a godawful mess all over her belly and breasts, and she traced designs in the mess, smiling at me.
“You made a mess,” she laughed.
“I’ll clean it up.” I fetched a paper towel from the kitchen, only to find her licking the finger she’d been dragging through the mess. “Damn, girl. What kinda tiger did I tie onto?”
She just laughed and let me clean her up. “I don’t know, honestly. We’re both finding out together.” Her eyes became serious, then. “And I’m loving every minute of it.”
“You sure do seem like a good girl on the surface, Charlie Goode. But get you naked and horny, and you ain’t so good after all, are you?”
“Only for you, Crow. You’re the only one who ever has and ever will get the not-so-good version of me.”
She kissed me, then, and we nearly didn’t make it out of the bed for dinner.
Forever with her suddenly seemed like an awful nice prospect.
* * *
THE END
Epilogue
Lexie
The box came about two months after Crow left for Alaska.
The tour was over, and Myles and I were playing house at his sprawling penthouse in Dallas.
It was a big wooden box, delivered by DHL. Postmarked Ketchikan, Alaska.
From River Dog Custom Guitars.
Myles used a claw hammer to open it. Inside was a hard-sided leather guitar case, with Myles’s initials monogrammed into the leather. He opened the case, and sank to his knees, speechless.
Holding the guitar as if it might explode, he cradled it in his hands. I saw him literally in tears.
“Myles?” I crouched beside him. “What is it?”
He traced the whorls in the wood. “This.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Crow. He finished it.”
“Finished what?”
He touched the strings—nylon. “River Dog and Crow were making this guitar together when River Dog died. Crow never finished it.”
“And that’s it? The guitar they were making?”
He nodded, then moved to sit on his butt, cradling the guitar against his chest. He strummed the strings with a thumb, delicately—the sound it made was honey and light with a soaring purity.
“It’s Spanish cedar. River Dog made a guitar and traded it to a tonewood exporter for a batch of this. It’s not just any w
ood. It was handpicked for the best quality, the best visual appeal and sound.” He strummed it again, and his fingers danced on the strings, picking a flamenco-type melody. “He said it was going to be the best guitar he ever made. He died before they could finish it, just the neck and strings were left. It’s the last pure River Dog guitar there will ever be. All Crow had to do was attach the neck, bridge, strings, all that. The real work of it, River Dog and Crow did together, years and years ago.”
I marveled at the pure sound of it. “It’s incredible.”
“Custom guitars are an art form. What River Dog could do? It was more than art. It was…it was holy. Sacred.” He shook his head, eyes closed, head turned to the side as he listened to a note quaver. “Hear that? The resonance? It sounds like it’s…like it’s resonating clear up to heaven and back to earth.”
“He finished it, and gave it to you,” I said. I stood up, glanced in the case, saw the note—gave it to Myles. “Here.”
He read it out loud. “‘Myles, brother. You firing me was the best thing ever happened to me.’” He cut off, laughing. “Poor bastard can’t spell for shit, though. ‘I’m reopening River Dog’s shop, but it’s going to be a real shop, here in Alaska. That there guitar is the first, and you know damn well which one it is. He wanted you to have it. He told me so himself, day he died.’” His voice shook, broke. “‘I never told you he meant that guitar for you, because I was too scared of failing to try and finish it. Well, I did, and I think it turned out pretty all right. Make some beautiful music on it. Love you, brother. I’ll miss the tour, but not the bus. That thing was a shithole.’”
I laughed, teary-eyed myself. “He’s funny.”
“Pretty all right,” he echoed. “It’s the most beautiful guitar ever made.”
“What’s the P.S.?” I asked.
“‘P.S.: Lexie, your momma and sisters miss you. Charlie ain’t told them shit, but they miss you something awful. Get your ass up here to see them, so they will quit bugging me to call Myles. He knows I don’t talk on the phone.’” He laughed. “He tried calling in a pizza one time, ended up cursing out the pizza guy on the other end and hanging up. He hates phones.”
Not So Goode Page 26