When James said Dix lived in a trailer, she didn’t know he meant a camper. He opened the door and ushered her in. Her parent’s house was maybe fifteen hundred square feet, and the apartment she and Leo lived in was perhaps nine hundred, but both those were palatial compared to Dix’s trailer. No wonder he didn’t cook or eat at home.

 

The front two-thirds of the trailer was one room composed of a seating area and kitchen. There was a wall that formed a short hall, then another room with a bed visible, and that was it. No television, no computer, no nothing. Unlike James’s cluttered house, Dix’s trailer was sparse without any personal touches. The only thing that seemed out of place was a thick book lying on the couch.

 

“It’s not much, but it’s home. Want a beer?”

 

“Thank you, no.”

 

“I’m going to grab a shower, then I’ll take you back to the motel. James will kill me if I get the inside of his truck greasy,” he said as he moved down the hall then turning into the bath. “Make yourself at home!” he called as the water started.

 

She looked around then flopped onto the couch and picked up the book from the Douglas Public Library. She frowned, then flipped through the book. It was an in-depth look into the design and construction of the Roman Aqueduct system. She scanned a few pages, but this was no grade school primer, the book full of technical discussions about the hydraulics involved in moving large amounts of water over vast distances. With no television or computer, this was obviously Dix’s preferred method of entertainment.

 

She heard the water stop, and watched as he stepped into the hall then his bedroom completely naked and totally unself-conscious. She only got a peek at his manhood before he turned away, but his ass and back were well-muscled and defined.

 

She was still watching when he stepped back into the hall, wearing pants but no shirt. She swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly going dry. He was no body-builder, but he was well muscled in the way of a man who was used to hard work. He ran his fingers though his hair as he stopped at the small refrigerator and pulled out a beer.

 

“You sure you don’t want one?” he asked offering her a bottle.

 

“May I have a sip of yours?”

 

He smiled and twisted the cap off, offering her the bottle as he sat down. “Oof,” he grunted. “I’m beat. Give me a minute then I’ll take you back to the motel.”

 

She took a swallow of beer then handed him the bottle. He accepted the bottle then took a generous pull from it before sitting it on the counter.

 

“You’re reading this?” she asked, holding the book up.

 

“Yeah. I love reading that stuff, how the during the Italian Renaissance, and the Roman’s, Greeks and Persians before them, built these massive structures before modern technology. It boggles my mind. What?” he asked as she continued to look at him.

 

“You aren’t like any biker I’ve known.”

 

“Why? Because I read a book?”

 

“Not reading a book, but reading this book. And you seem to care about something other than yourself and your club.”

 

“I care about the Cutthroats,” he protested.

 

“But you don’t care only about the Cutthroats. I can’t imagine Leo, or anyone from the Firechrome, doing any of the things you have done over the last couple of days.”

 

“I’m not Leo, and the Cutthroats are not the Firechrome,” he said firmly.

 

“No…no you’re not,” she said as she leaned in slightly.

 

She looked at him, her face tilted up, her lips slightly agape, inviting him to kiss her. He brought his lips to hers and kissed her slowly. She rose up slightly, breathing hard as she leaned in, her hands going to his face.

 

She pulled back from him and began to unbutton her shirt before he took her hands and stilled them. “You don’t have to do this,” he said, his hands still holding hers.

 

“I want to.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

She paused as she thought about it. “Yes,” she finally said softly. When he released her hands, she finished unbuttoning her shirt then unzipped his pants. He was already hard as she tugged his manhood out. She was bending to take him into her mouth when he stopped her.

 

“What?” she asked confused.

 

“Wait, not like this.” He rose to his feet, beer forgotten, and pulled her slowly to her feet. She began to crouch, but he pulled her up again. “Slow down,” he whispered.

 

“Don’t you want me to blow you?”

 

He felt ridiculous standing there with his cock hanging out, so he tucked himself away before slowly pulling her to his bedroom. The moment he turned to face her again, she began pulling at his pants. He allowed her to open them, but when she moved to crouch again, he again pulled her up again and into a kiss. She responded by kissing him savagely as her hand slithered into his pants and began to stroke his cock.

 

“What’s wrong?” she asked as he pulled her hand away again. “Don’t you want me?”

 

“Not like this.” Her vibe was all wrong, as if she were going through a script or performing a part for him.

 

She pulled back and looked at him, then looked down. “I’m sorry. I should go.” She began to turn away.

 

“Stay,” he said as he took her arm and turned her back to face him.

 

“I don’t know what you want.”

 

“I want you.”

 

“I…but…I tried to blow you, and give you a handy, but…isn’t that what you want? I don’t know what you expect!”

 

“No,” he said softly, pulling her back to him. “I want you, the real you, not this you, not the you where you think you have to do what I want or is expected. I want the you I kissed in front of the motel room last night.” He tipped her face up and kissed her softly.

 

She allowed him to kiss her but she didn’t know how to respond or what he wanted from her.

 

“Relax,” he said softly as he pulled back, his lips close to hers. “Let yourself go. Forget about what I want, give me what you want.”

 

She felt his breath on her lips as she stood, unsure of what to do. After a moment she pulled his lips to hers and kissed him slowly, her lips parting as she invited his tongue into her mouth. He responded, his kiss so warm and gentle, his hands coming to her face, holding her into the kiss but allowing her to set the pace and tone. She could feel desires, long buried, coming to life. She wanted more, his warm and gentle hands encouraging to let go, to let her passions soar. She leaned into it, not because he expected it but because she wanted it. A fervor she thought long extinguished roared to life. He held her face, making her feel wanted and desired, but secure in the knowledge she could easily pull away. As they kissed, slow and gentle, she didn’t want to pull away, she wanted more.

 

She broke away with a slow gasp as she pulled back and smiled at him. “This is the Daisy I want,” he whispered, his lips going to her neck as he slid the shirt from her shoulder. She reached for her pants, but he slowly pushed her hands away. “No…” he whispered into her neck. “I want to undress you.”

 

He gently steered her to the bed then spent the next twenty minutes exploring her body with his lips and fingertips as he slowly undressed her, caressing her in a way no man ever had. She was burning in desire, his fingers and lips traveling over her leaving behind a crackling erotic energy that made her feel alive in a way she’d never felt before.

 

“Please. I want to feel you next to me,” she breathed as she tugged at his pants again. She’d tried twice before to get him out of his pants, but he’d refused and pushed her hands gently away. This time he complied and removed his pants and underwear before settling onto the bed with her. As he did, she turned and pushed him to his back before she draped herself over him, not because it was expected, but because she wanted to please him, wanted him in her mouth so she could make him groan.

 

He pulled her legs over his head as she settled over him, pulling her down as he began to lick and kiss, his tongue flicking into her before pressing firmly in against her swollen button.

 

She liked how he pulled her firmly down, his arms wrapped around her hips as if to prevent her escape, making her feel desired in a way she hadn’t in a very long time.

 

Dix groaned softly as Daisy tormented him in the most delightful way possible. The girl had skills, that much was certain, and he focused on the task at hand, focusing on pleasing her to stand against the onslaught of pleasure as long as possible.

 

She could feel a tingling begin, as if millions of tiny shocks were lighting her up as they danced across her body, her muscles coiling up like springs, the tingles becoming more pronounced as they twisted her tight. She felt hot, burning from the inside, melting and exploding at the same time as she burned in erotic agony. As Dix’s tongue danced, she pulled him from her mouth, unable to breathe, unable to think, only feeling, everything forgotten except this moment, this one perfect tick in time. She groaned as her orgasm slammed into her, rolling over her and burying her in pleasure more profound than any she’d experienced before.

 

Her deep moan as she shuddered made him smile as he held her to his face and slowly massaged her clit with his tongue. She began to buck and jerk, gasping and whimpering, but he held her, his mouth busy until her twists and lunges became frantic and he let her go.

 

He finally released her and she pulled away, mewling softly as her orgasm washed out of her, leaving her feeling weak and out of sorts. She laid still wanting to cry but not knowing why as his lips found hers.

 

“What’s wrong?” he whispered as he pulled back, a tear rolling down her cheek. “Did I hurt you?”

 

“No,” she whispered in reply. “I came.”

 

“I know,” he chuckled, kissing her again.

 

She sniffed, the tears coming harder now, and she was unable to stop them. “I’ve never had an orgasm before.”

 

“Never?” he asked softly, kissing away the tears.

 

“No, I don’t think so.” She sniffed, finally gaining control of her reeling emotions. “Not like that.”

 

He lay down beside her and wrapped her up, holding her tight, thinking vile and evil thoughts about a man so selfish he expected his woman to please him, but he couldn’t give her an orgasm.

 

She lay in Dix’s arms a moment, trying to understand what was happening to her. He was exerting a powerful attraction on her. He was everything she wanted in a man and she could feel herself wanting to fall for him, but she reeled those feelings in. She’d only just met him and she knew it wasn’t true love, not the deep and meaningful love that would last a lifetime. It was because he was being kind to her she felt this way, and she knew it. She knew she’d have to be careful and not allow the gratitude she felt toward him be mistaken for something else.

 

Her equilibrium reestablished, she rose and kissed him slowly, erotically, luxuriating in the kiss like none before. “I want you,” she whispered.

 

He smiled as she breathed her desire. He was willing to take one for the team tonight, but was glad he wouldn’t have to. He rolled her over, hovering over her as he kissed her lips and neck before reaching for the condoms he kept in the small table.

 

“Are you clean?” she whispered, tugging gently at his arm. “I’m protected. I want to feel you.”

 

“I’m clean,” he murmured, kissing her again, “but are you sure?”

 

“I’m on the pill,” she breathed as she wrapped her legs around him and tried to steer him into her. “Please. I know you won’t hurt me. Please.” Not smart! she thought just as he entered her, but as her head tipped back in pleasure, she didn’t care.

 

He hesitated a moment, unsure of what to do, but as she tightened her legs around him, he sank into her, exhaling softly at his passage. It has been so long since he’d made love to a woman as nature intended. He dropped to his elbows, tucking his hands under her and holding her tight.

 

She wrapped him up, holding him, and he tightened his embrace, sensing her need. “Yes…” she breathed as he began to move slowly, thrusting into her in slow gentle strokes. She couldn’t believe how good it felt. She’d never felt like this, her pleasure rising with every slow thrust of his hips, his lips nuzzling her neck, his strong arms holding her tight and making her feel safe. “Faster,” she gasped, the tingles starting, far off and weak, but there.

 

He made love to her for many long moments, her soft gasps and sighs of pleasure, her occasional encouragements to give her more, to go harder and faster twisting him up. Knowing he’d given this woman her first orgasm excited him and pumped him up in a way he’d never felt. He wanted to give her another orgasm, then another, then another until she was exhausted and well satisfied.

 

“I’m going to come again,” she whispered, the tingles suddenly increasing in strength. “Please, Dix, please make me come. Make me come, please make me come,” she begged, wanting, needing, to feel the burning rush of pleasure again.

 

Her quiet begging was like putting match to gunpowder. He exploded into motion, driving into her hard and fast. “Come on, baby,” he growled. “Look at me. Open your eyes. I want you to look at me when you come.”

 

She opened her eyes, watching his eyes as her pleasure swelled within her. It took every ounce of will she possessed to keep her eyes open as her orgasm rolled over her, but at this moment she’d do anything for him he asked. As she watched, his face twisted in rapture as he grunted, and she smiled before pulling his lips to hers.

 

As he watched, her face twisted in erotic agony, her low moan of pleasure pushing him over the edge. He settled to her with a sigh and a smile, feeling warm and relaxed in a way he rarely did.

 

“Was it good?” she asked softly as their lips parted, her face showing her apprehension.

 

He smiled softly as he touched her face. “Very,” he whispered before bringing his lips to hers, and he felt the tension drain out of her.

 

“Good,” she sighed, grateful and relieved she’d been able to satisfy him.

 

He pulled out of her, kissing down her body as he did, then lay down beside her before tucking her in tight and warm. She wiggled a bit, getting comfortable, her head on his chest, an arm and leg thrown over him, then sighed. This is what love-making is supposed to be like! She knew it was just sex, but in her dreams she wished for a man to be gentle with her, a man that was interested in pleasing her and not simply use her for his own needs, a man that made her feel cherished and wanted, a man to make love to her and not just fuck her. She sighed again, smiling into the darkness, listening to the slow thudding of his heart as his breathing became slow, deep and regular. She was still smiling as she slid slowly into sleep.

 

***