Chapter 3
“You look like shit,” my sister, Mic, says to me. If one more of my siblings tells me I look like shit, I’m going to lose my mind. Once again, I look like shit because I saw you a few days ago, at your house, with your grandma leering at us. And you left me with one single word:
Understood.
No, Shay. No, I don’t understand. Are we something? Nothing? Whatever the hell our conversation led to still has me reeling, not sleeping, and thinking of you and the high you give me. So, yeah, I look like shit. Because I need another hit of you. Then maybe I could sleep. Focus on this race coming up at least. Focus on something other than fucking you.
I sit down on the barstool and Mic slides me a Coke. Do you have any idea how much I want a beer? Alcohol was never my problem. Drugs were. But it’s probably a slippery slope so when I went clean and sober, I meant it in every sense.
“Girl problems?” Mic asks and leans a hand on the bar top opposite me. She takes good care of her place. Her bar. Her show. She’s a tough woman and I love her deeply. I don’t worry about her. She’s stronger than Trade and I put together. She’s also the baby of the family. Still, she makes a good living with her bar and loves it here in Mojave.
“Why the hell would you ask me that? Do I ever have girl problems?” I say.
“No, which is why I’m asking. When a man starts looking to be the shape you’re in, it’s women or…”
I glance at my sister. She has similar features to Trade and I. Dark hair, olive skin. But she’s lovely in a way my brother and I can never be. She’s also a tiny thing. Trade and I got our father’s tall frame and physique. I alone inherited his addict predisposition.
She does have one thing just like Trade though, that worried look.
“I’m not having problems with anything,” I emphasize the last word. Because we both know anything means drugs.
When will people stop worrying about me? When will they trust I’m sober for good?
Maybe when I grow the fuck up and stop wanting you. Maybe when I get out of Mojave. Maybe when my “job” of dirt racing goes to the next level. Maybe this is all my own shit. I’m not unhappy, but I’m not happy either. I need to get it together. I need to focus on this big race coming up because that’s what qualifies me for Las Vegas in the fall and thus, that next fucking step of earning more money and being happier. Isn’t that what makes people happy? Money? I’m the wrong person to ask since—once upon a time—I was looking for happiness at the end of a straw up my nose.
“I’m fine, Mic. Just thinking about the future.”
“You’re going to do great at the race. You have a sponsor now. You’re rising up, Coe. You’re practically a star around here and you’re able to support yourself doing what you love. Stop looking so grumpy.”
She has a point. Mic did tend to speak bluntly and usually she had a positive spin on things. Too bad she doesn’t know my newly formed obsession with you. Because that is a problem. One I can’t talk about and one that even though I talked to you about it the other night, it’s still unclear. I wish I could say that I’m thinking about more than getting into your panties.
Does thinking about getting into your bed count?
What about thinking of your smile? Wondering when the last time you laughed was? Or what your dreams are after you finish college. Shit, what are you going to school for? I want to know all those things.
Doesn’t make me any less selfish, though, for wanting your body wrapped around mine. I want to hear you and know you, but I also want to make you beg. Scream.
A clack, clack, clack sound is coming from outside. And getting closer. I look toward the front door of the bar and, Jesus, were your ears burning? I can see you through the windows. You’re going to walk right in here…wearing that.
A black and gray pleated skirt, tight white shirt, and your hair up in a fiery red bun. Are you trying to make me come in my pants with this Catholic schoolgirl outfit you’re rocking?
I stand up and kick back my stool. “Be right back,” I say to Mic.
I can’t see you right now. Mic would see through me. I need to hide. You like what you’ve reduced me to, Shay? You have me fucking hiding from you out of fear that I’ll lay you across this bar and fuck you in your little skirt.
Mic’s eyes are on me, so I head to the back like I’m going to the bathroom. Only I duck into the corner so I can see you walk in, but you can’t see me. Mic didn’t notice my tactics and her attention is on you now. Thank God it’s slow so I can hear your conversation.
“Good afternoon, Michelle,” you say to Mic.
“You have to be twenty-one to be in my bar,” Mic says to you harshly. I know she doesn’t like you. It’s your last name. It’s your brother. I’m pretty sure you know that too. But I want to yell at Mic to stop being a bitch to you.
“I’m not drinking. I actually wanted to give you this.” You hand over a piece of paper. I can feel Mic’s scorn from here.
“Resume?”
You nod. Your smile lifting. “Yes, I was hoping to apply here. I saw your sign in the window that you need some part-time help.”
“No,” Mic says instantly.
Damn it, Mic. Knock it off.
“Oh, um, perhaps I could be a dishwasher or server? I don’t know the rules on being twenty-one and serving.”
“You can’t be a bartender; technically, you can be a waitress, dishwasher, whatever. But not work the bar itself.”
“That’s great! Well, um, I have experience in the restaurant business and have my food handling certification.” You point to your resume and it’s fucking adorable. So much that I hate myself more for wanting you.
“I’ll keep you on file,” Mic says with finality.
Your mouth opens, then closes. Whatever you were going to say, you don’t. I wish you would have. Because you’re fighting for a job, for money, for your education, and the lights in your damn house to stay on. And you got all dressed up to do it. Only to get rejected.
That word sticks to my skull.
Rejected.
You said once that I had rejected you.
I didn’t, but that’s what you think. I can see how it hurts you. I see it on your face, right here and now. I wonder what your face looked like when I let you walk away from my truck that night.
I’m sorry, Shay.
I’ll make it right.
I may not totally understand what the pull you have on me is, but I do understand what you need. I understand that expression you have. I’m going to come through for you. At the very least, for a short while.
“Thank you for your consideration,” you say softly and leave.
Mic shoves your resume behind the bar, the sound of crinkling echoes as I walk back to my seat.
“Why won’t you hire her?” I ask Mic.
She frowns at me. “Are you serious? She’s an O’Brien. Her brother is Randy O’Brien. Remember him? He got you wasted and high and addicted.”
“I did that to myself.”
Mic shakes her head. “Still. She doesn’t need to be around here. She’s young and—”
“And would be good for business. You know that.”
Mic rolls her eyes.
“She’s not her last name, Mic. You, of all people, should appreciate that.”
My sister bites her bottom lip and snarls. I got her on that one. We come from a shit family and hate being thought of as our last name. Not fair she’s holding that against you.
“Isn’t she leaving for school?” Mic asks. “I feel like everyone in town is talking about this girl. She’s legal, gorgeous, blah, blah, blah, but she’s—”
“Smart. I heard she got a scholarship to UN.”
Mic’s brows raise. She’s right, though. The town has been talking about you. We appreciate beauty and brains in Mojave. You haven’t gone unnoticed, Shay. Which is why I can get away with talking about you a little bit.
“She’s probably looking for some money before she leaves for Las Vegas. Why not? She’d be reliable.”
Mic shrugs. “Summer job.”
“That’s all you want to fill anyway, right? Give her a shot.”
Mic glares at me. “Stop pulling that big brother guilt voice.”
“Then stop acting like a spoiled baby sister.”
“Ugh! Fine. I’ll give her the job. But it’s a shitty job of running orders to tables and cleaning dishes in the back.”
“You don’t have to sell me. Call Shay. Maybe have her start ASAP because it looks like the mill just let out.”
I raise my chin toward the door and, sure enough, several guys are coming in, smelling like oil and dirty from work. It’s beer-thirty around Mojave and the night is just beginning. Which means it’s time for me to leave.
#
I’m sprinting harder, faster, the desert disappearing behind me and I’m coming up on my double-wide. A trailer in the desert, surrounded my makeshift racing track, my race car, and hot dry air, sounds like hell to some. I think it’s pretty great. Yeah, it’s a trailer, but it’s not a shithole. There’s not a lot of options around Mojave in terms of housing. It’s just me, anyway. Nice enough for a single guy. Clean. Big. I can’t complain.
I can race and have space anytime I need it. I bought the land, so there’s always room to grow. To build. Set roots. Not that I’m thinking that way.
With dusk on the horizon, I open my screen door and head straight to the shower, kicking my shorts and shoes off as I turn the water on. A long hot run, followed by a cold shower, should hopefully take the edge off of wanting you. Although, you in the skirt today will likely plague my fantasies tonight.
The cold water hits my chest, splattering up to smack my neck and chin. The smell of summer night air within the growing steam makes me grin. It’s a good smell. Clean, hot, cold, fresh. All of it wrapped up smells like home. Reminds me of you. You have a freshness to you. A cleanness.
I scrub and force myself to think of anything but you. I purposefully go fast and rough all over my skin with soap. I refuse to wonder what your hands would feel like…
Fuck this.
I’m in bad shape and distraction isn’t helping. I need to sleep this off. It’s barely nine and I’m ready for bed just to hope to kick this need…this high I’m craving. You.
Wrapping a towel around my waist, I walk to the kitchen and straight to the fridge. A tapping at the front door stops me. I glance out. There’s no headlights. Who the hell is here?
I walk to the front door, open it and…
“Shay?” Your name on my mouth feels good. Just like you on my mouth.
“Hey,” you say shyly. You’re still wearing that skirt and it’s all I can to do to keep from getting hard. You’d notice pretty quickly since I’m in nothing but a damn towel.
I hold the door open and stand there. You won’t look at me. Your eyes start to travel the length of my abs to my chest, then you glance away. Water is still dripping down my shoulders to my torso. You watching the water stream along my skin, sweet Shay? Is that why there’s a hint of pink in your cheeks?
“I just came to say thank you,” you whisper. “I know you got me the job at your sister’s bar.”
“You’re qualified and reliable. I put in a good word.”
Your eyes meet mine. Wide and innocent. Your full mouth opens slightly. “Thank you.”
I shake my head. You don’t have to thank me for a thing. You’re the one who works hard. The one who goes out and tries every day. I just have the same name as the bar owner. No big deal.
You look down at my chest again and this time I watch your eyes go a little further to the low-slung knot in my towel. I flex my abs for good measure and your breath catches. You counting them now, baby? I’m cut and defined and you seem to appreciate that.
“Like what you see?”
You nod, your gaze still fastened to my body. Jesus, it feels good to be looked at this way. Like you’re…fascinated.
Watching your perfect tits rise and fall on heavy breaths, your bright eyes eating up my skin inch by inch, I can’t hold back my own reaction. You make me hard. Just looking at you makes me crazy. But you looking at me? I’m fucking ready and there’s no hiding it.
You gasp and watch my dick thicken beneath the towel. I memorize your face. Take in every feature. Every expression.
“Have you ever had a man at your disposal, Shay?”
You meet my gaze again and frown. “What do you mean?”
I lean toward you, wrap my free hand around your waist, and pull you inside before I let the door slam shut. Finally, we’re under the same roof.
“I mean…” My face is close to yours. God damn, your hair smells amazing. That same fire and sweetness from the other night. “Have you ever had a man all to yourself? That you could look at, touch, do whatever you wanted to?”
You shake your head aggressively. “No. Never.”
“I’m going to touch you, Shay. Every inch of you. And not just with my hands. If that is something you don’t want, leave now.” It’s all I can get out because my resolve is leaving me. And like I said before, I’m selfish when it comes to what I want.
“I’m not leaving,” you say. “Can I…” You go to put your hand against my chest, then stop and look up at me. Asking if you can touch me, baby? You can do whatever you want.
I nod. Giving you time. Because, once we start, I’m going hard and deep, and right now you need to move however slow you need. I can tell by your eyes you’re taking in the sheer size of me. And you’re right, Shay. I’m bigger than you by a long shot. Every muscle I have will be used to fuck your perfect creamy body.
It’s natural to be nervous.
Your palm gently lands against my heart. You’re warm and soft. Your skin is like velvet and my pulse quickens, trying to beat out of my chest to reach your touch.
You trail it low. Moving along the ridges of my abs, down to my hips. You stop at the towel knot.
“Anything you want,” I breathe. I had no idea my breath had gotten ragged.
Your plump lower lip gets caught between your teeth and you tug on the towel, letting it fall to the ground. The cotton scrapes against my dick on its way down. I want your hands on me. Then I want your mouth. Then both. I’m hard and hot and so fucking ready I can barely stand it.
“Oh, my,” you say, your eyes fastened to my cock.
I can’t help but twitch and you gasp.
“Can I…touch it?”
I nod. I’m too worried to speak right now. If I do, I may just pounce on you like a fiend. Your tender fingertips trail along the crown. I’ve never been so hard. When your palm brushes the underside near my balls, a bead of pre-come escapes.
“You’re soft, but hard.”
Yes! For the love of Christ, yes, I’m hard. You lick your lips and I try not to grab a wad of your red hair and pull your sweet mouth down on me.
Instead, you slowly kneel. Your lips graze my abs.
Sweet God, this is too good, Shay. What am I going to do with you? Actually, I know the answer to that. I’m going to do all kinds of things to you. But I can’t decide which comes first because your mouth is on me, your breath hitting my cock but your lips inches above it while your soft hands fondle me.
Soft and slow and new.
This is new to me too, Shay. I’ve never been with a woman like this, and you and I haven’t even been together yet.
Tonight, that’s changing.
Your lips trail up my bottom set of abs, then back down. Your fingers continuing to play with my dick. The fleeting touches and teasing kisses are enough to drive me damn crazy.
“I’ve wanted to be with you for a long time,” you say, each word hitting my skin.
“You were a kid with a crush.”
“I’m not a kid and this isn’t a crush,” you say sharply. Your lips turn to teeth and you bite my hip. Goosebumps break up from your little bite. So, you’re feisty. I’ll be tapping into that and making you pay real soon.
“Why are you scowling?” you ask, blinking those beautiful eyes up at me.
I chuckle and honesty pours out of my mouth. “Because I’m trying to decide what to do to you first.”
You lick your lips.
I tilt my head and examine the perfection that’s kneeling before me. And therein lies my conundrum, Shay. I have you kneeling, kneeling before me. Your mouth is an inch from my cock and I want you to stay right there. The other part of me wants to yank you up, rip your clothes, and fuck you hard. I want to see your body. Kiss and tongue every square inch of you.
Decisions, decisions.
Your mouth hovers closer, your breath fanning over the tip…
I pull you to your feet and kiss you hard. Because if you start sucking my cock, I won’t get to all the things I want to do to your tight little cunt and edible tits.
You open your mouth and I drive my tongue in. I walk you backwards to the couch, unfastening your hair as we go. Your hands are all over my chest. Trying to hang on to me? Pull me close? Sorry, baby, not yet.
As soon as the back of your knees hit the couch, I push you down. You sit, the leather cushion squeaking from your ass smacking it. It’s my turn to fall to my knees. I grip your legs and spread them wide.
“Coe!” You shuffle, trying to adjust your skirt, but I see all of you. And those pretty white panties you’re hiding.
“Relax, baby.” I reach under your skirt and slide your panties off. I pull you forward until your ass is on the edge of the couch and you’re cradling me in your thighs, your hot cunt against my lower stomach.
I kiss you, softer this time, but still deep. Peeling your straps down your arms, I slip your tank top down to your waist. Your bra is white, matches your panties. Did you plan that? The cotton is simple, but your full tits are spilling out of it and it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. I’ve seen a lot of lace, silk, lingerie of all kinds. But you, with your simple, sweet cotton and perfect skin is all I want. The best sight of all the sights.
“You’re so beautiful.” I can’t stop looking at you.
You cup my face and kiss me. I start to trail my mouth down your jaw, nibbling at your ear. You wiggle and gasp. You like that, baby? I do it again. You thrust your hips out and your hot little pussy is getting wet. The slide of you along my stomach has my dick begging to bury itself right there.
If that gets you squirming, just wait for what’s next.
I trail my tongue along your throat and take a deep taste of your pulse. You don’t seem to notice that I unhooked the front clasp of your bra…
Your breath is coming faster. Your fingers thread through my hair. I move my mouth to your collarbone, then to the high cleavage right below it. I take the milky flesh between my teeth and suck. Then release with a “pop” sound.
“Oh, Coe…”
Your thighs are trembling, your back arching. You want more. Don’t worry, baby, I’ll give it to you.
Your ruby nipples are pouting hard, wanting to be sucked. I run my tongue along the little bead, making it even stiffer.
“Please…oh, Coe. Please, just…” You’re rocking and arching. You really want more. But you’ll thank me for this warm-up here in just a minute. Because I will be inside you very, very soon. And I want you good and wet for me. I’ll make it feel good for you, I promise. Besides, I’m loving my exploration of you. Watching you come apart from my little licks is the biggest fucking turn on. You’re so damn responsive.
I flick your nipple with the tip of my tongue. Fast. Goosebumps color your milky skin and I love watching your whole body flush.
The leather couch whines against your thrashing body. I’ve got you pinned around me, though. You can move, but every time you do, you just feel more of me. Rubbing that hot clit all over my stomach, getting yourself wetter and wetter while I suck and play with your tits.
I could do this all night, Shay.
I think I will.
I’m playing with you, making you really want what’s coming next. I feel like a snake, slithering around your perfect skin, making you blush and prick with anticipation. I’m fucked up, Shay, because I like the idea. The notion that I can get this kind of reaction from you. That you want me. Are ready to beg…
I flatten my tongue against your nipple and suck as much flesh as I can into my mouth.
“Oh, God, yes!” You squeeze your thighs against my sides, grip my hair harder.
I suck deeper. Flicking my tongue along your sensitive bud as I latch on. You like this. You’re extra sensitive here, are you baby? You’re sliding against me, getting hotter and wetter. Oh, yeah, you really like this. Has no one ever paid attention to these perfect tits before? Damn shame because your skin tastes like vanilla milk.
I move to the other side, lave and suck and bite. You’re rocking against me. Mimicking sex and working your hips. Is this how you’d move if I stuck my aching cock inside you right now?
We’re about to find out.
I reach for the small box on the side table and pull a condom out. My mouth doesn’t leave you. Sucking at your tit hard, I wrap myself up quickly. You don’t seem to notice. Your head is lolled back, body gyrating against me, eyes shut, moaning. You’re lost.
Do I warn you for what’s coming? I think you’d just tense up. But I need to be sure you still want this. For some reason, my consensus is extra loud today.
I kiss up your neck to your mouth and breathe against your panting lips.
“You still want me, baby?”
“Yes, yes, so much. Please, Coe.”
That’s all I need. With your pleasing mouth against mine, I cup your face in my hand and look into your beautiful blue eyes.
My dick is screaming, pounding hard, wanting to get inside of you. I nudge your opening. You’re right here…I’m so close to being in you…
“There’s no going back after this,” I whisper, and I can’t be sure if I said that to you or to myself.
I slide inside of you. One long, deep pump of my hips has me thrusting through hot, wet heat, all the way to the hilt.
“Ah—oh, Coe…”
You still.
I still.
I’m seated deep in you, your tight cunt clamping down on me. I force myself to give you a minute to adjust. But you don’t take a minute. You kiss me. Pressing your lips against my jaw, my cheek, my mouth. Surging your tongue, trying to drink me down. You rock your hips against mine. Up, down. Little movements, your sweet pussy coating me.
I can’t hold back anymore.
And you clearly want it. You’re ready for more.
“Shay.” Your name is the only word I get out before pulling back and thrusting forward. Your tits bounce, your breath stalls. I do it again. And again. Retreating from your body until just the tip is at your entrance, then pounding back all the way to the root.
No other woman has ever felt this good.
No other moment has ever had me on the brink of begging to come. To never come. I don’t want this to end. But my balls tighten and I’m close to coming sooner than I was hoping.
I reach between us with one hand and spread open your pussy lips so that your clit directly hits and rubs against my lower stomach.
Burying my cock deep, I rock against you. Your clit is swelling against me while your sheath is raining down. Jesus, you’re wet. I feel you tense, your inner walls flex and tighten.
“That’s it, baby. Let me feel you come all over me,” I say.
Then with sharp, deep pumps, I drop my head to suck your tit into my mouth. That does it. You scream my name and come hard. Your lithe little body spasming against me. Your cunt squeezes me, soaking me with your orgasm.
Fuck, you’re even tighter and feel better than anything.
Your fingernails rack across my back and I’m a goner.
My dick twitches and I come like a damn fire hose. I grip the back of the couch because I’m afraid I’d hurt you with how hard I’m hanging on. I thrust hard once, twice, then finally, as the last jet of come escapes me, I pump even deeper.
A haze surrounds my brain and the sting of your nails in my back has me wanting to stay right here and fuck you until I’m out of energy. Until I can’t see anything but your eyes.
It’s over. Tonight is over. Your virginity is over. But God damn it, I just want to stay inside you a little longer…