Chapter 4
My stock car is sounding good. Getting race ready. We still have several weeks, but there’s always something to tune up. I just picked her up from my brother in town after he tweaked a couple of things under the hood. I’m taking her out around my desert track to practice once I get through town. The loud muffler distracts me enough so that my thoughts aren’t strictly about you.
Sort of.
I’m still thinking of last night. Of how you came hard. How your skin smells. I already miss your long hair draped over my couch like flames. Every time you arched your back or swayed your head, those fiery strands flickered across the cream fabric.
So much for not thinking of you.
It’s a small town. I’m bound to see you. Of course, now that you’re all I think about, I feel like I see you more often. Like now. Walking down the street, a bag of groceries in your arms.
I pull alongside you, my window is down.
“Hey,” I call to you.
You smile but continuing looking forward and walking.
“Hi.”
Playing coy? Alright, I can play too. I keep pace with you. The strings of your cut-off shorts dance across your creamy thighs.
“You’re going to get sunburned, baby.”
Your smile widens, but still you don’t look at me. You like it when I call you, “baby.” Are you thinking about when I called you that last night while I was inside of you?
“I could use a little color,” you say.
The thought makes me shudder. You don’t need anything. You’re perfect. Your skin is perfect. You’re not the kind to lay out and tan or get your hair dyed. You’re natural, Shay. Pure.
“Why so smiley today?” I ask
With the bag of groceries hugged against your stomach, you shrug your shoulder. “Just wondering if everyone can tell.”
“Tell what?” I ask.
“That I’m not the same woman I was twenty-four hours ago. I feel it. I’m…” You sigh and finally look at me. “I’m happy. I feel good in my body. Even though it’s a little sore.”
I left you sore and you seem happy about it. So, I can’t be upset. I like the idea, actually. Does that make me a bastard, Shay? That I like that I’m still all over you. That we have our secret, but you can still feel me.
I can still feel you, you know. And I miss being inside you already. You feel far away right now after last night. And looking at your body in the light of day, knowing my hands have been all over it, I can’t be sorry. I will later. My judgment will sink in and I’ll realize that I’m still an asshole and you’re still young and pure. I’ve only dirtied you. But you look so fresh. So happy.
God, I want your skin around mine again.
Now.
“Can I give you a lift home?”
You stop and face me. “You can get me close.”
I know what you mean and you’re right. I can’t pull up to your house with your grandmother home and drop you off. She’d be pissed and I don’t want her to hate me more and have her start telling you to stay away from me. Even though she’d be right.
I don’t want to cause problems. But I’ll take what I can get.
“Deal,” I say and reach over to open the passenger side door. “But I want a few minutes of your time before I take you straight home.”
“What do you have in mind?” you ask, fastening your seatbelt and laying the bag of groceries at your feet.
“Something fast that’ll make you scream,” I promise and speed out of town toward the desert.
We pass the outskirts, go beyond any sign of human life, and straight to the open land I know well. The only thing you see for miles is the dusty desert floor, disturbed by my tire marks from previous practicing.
I stop and reach over to make sure your belt is fastened tightly.
“Ready?” I ask.
You smile wide. “Absolutely!”
I peel out and hit the gas hard. We blaze fast out into nothing. The dust kicking up and creating a brown cloud in my rearview. You smile, but we’re not even close to through. I hit the break and pull right. We tailspin out in the desert, flecks of dirt spraying up. That smattering sound, screeching tires, and your laugh in my ears is the best combination I’ve ever heard. That’s a sweet damn sound, Shay. You hang on to the handle above the door and scream with glee. I kick the car into low gear and pick up speed again. All my weight on the gas, I hit a hundred and your pretty mouth goes wide, your smile big and a little terrified. Something you need to get used to with me.
I slow it up and yank the wheel enough to take a tight turn, but not to kick out the rear.
You grab my arm and laugh.
You’re having fun. I’m giving you fun. I like providing that. Whatever it is I can provide—at least it’s something.
We’re truly in the middle of nowhere and I come to a stop. Dust still settling around the car.
“That was awesome!” you yell. You unbuckle yourself and hurry to get out of the car. “I want to see the tracks.”
I get out too and stay near you by the car. You look around at the ground. Light wind blows your hair around. You’re a desert goddess, you know that?
“What you can do is incredible, Coe.” You face me. “You could be a professional.”
“That’s the dream.” I mentally calculate how many sponsors it’d take to upgrade my racing car. I’m amateur, but it gets me by and I love the rush.
“You’re making your dream happen. You’re doing well. And your race coming up is another step in that direction.”
“How do you know about my race?”
“Everyone knows,” you say shyly.
I cup your hips and pull you closer.
“I think you can do anything in the world, Coe Anders. And I think you have so much talent and energy in you to get whatever you want.”
Your words hit a spot in my chest I didn’t know I had. The way you look at me, lean into me when you say that has me almost believing you. Almost feeling like a decent man. A capable man.
“I want you,” I admit. This isn’t new information, but I leave out the part I want to say. Which is, all the time.
I kiss you deep and you respond. Instantly opening your mouth for me. You even flick your tongue out as if you can’t wait to taste me. Greedy girl. I like it.
I turn you so your back is against my car and I’m between your legs. Your skin is dewy from the heat and you smell like fresh vanilla. Sunshine and spices. Like God himself forged you from a damn garden. I work your mouth with mine. Keep a steady pace so I can really feel every glide of your sweet tongue and scrape of your teeth. You’re trying to go faster, harder. I love that you’re wild for me, but I want every bit of you. To enjoy you. Just one session and you’re not so shy anymore, are you, baby?
You pull at my belt, my jeans. The adrenaline of wanting you and the speeding car ride have my blood pumping fire. I couldn’t go slow even if I wanted to. But I do want to go deep.
I yank your tank top down and latch onto your ripe nipple. You’re raspberries and cream. Always. And you’re my favorite kind of meal.
I get a hand in your shorts and rub hard at your clit, but you’re already wet. My driving got you excited, baby? Good. Because I’m ready to fuck you hard and—
“Shit,” I say and pull back. “I don’t have a condom.”
“It’s okay,” you say. “Just pull out.”
I meet your face. Your hands are cupping my neck, your thumbs running along my throat. Lovingly. Like I even know what that word means, but in that moment, that’s what I feel.
“I’d never put you at risk. I’m clean.”
“I know. I believe you.”
You’re a gift, Shay. Everything you are goes beyond what is seen. You’re trusting me. Wanting me. I won’t take that for granted.
I should think harder about this, but I can’t. Your mouth is back on mine and there’s not a damn place I’d rather it be.
Your tongue slides along mine. Mouths open, ravenous for each other. I love it. We’re animals and I’m going to fuck you. Plain and simple. Nothing pretty or sweet about it. And I’m going to enjoy feeling you raw. Just the thought has me rock hard.
You unfasten my belt while I pull my shirt over my head. My jeans scrape against my dick as you wedge them down. Your exposed skin sliding across mine, that little beaded nipple cutting my chest in the best way.
I rip open your shorts and shove them down and spin you around.
Your hands splay across the passenger window. I’ll see your fingerprints long after tonight, baby. And I’ll get hard every time I think of this moment, this perfect piece of flesh between your thighs right here…
I run my finger from your clit to your opening. Back and forth. Reaching from behind you and loving how your ass bounces whenever you gasp or squirm.
I kick your feet apart. The desert is dusting up with the motion and I can’t take my eyes off of you.
Back and forth…
Each sweep of my finger along your pussy slit makes your wetter. I linger at your tight entrance. You tense.
“You sure?” I ask. Why are you tensing on me?
“Yes…”
“What is it, Shay? You have to tell me whatever you’re thinking—whatever you want, or don’t want.”
“I just…I like what you’re doing. I want you inside of me and still feeling…” You move your hips, purposefully making my finger move along your weeping cunt again.
Ah, baby, say no more.
“You want everything, don’t you, greedy girl?”
“Yes,” you breathe.
I press you into the car until your nipple is against the cool glass of the window. You want to feel everything; I’ll make that happen. I wish I could have my hands, mouth, and cock all over you, in you, at the same time. I may not be able to do that, but I can get close.
I keep my finger on your clit and grip my hard cock in the other, positioning it at your opening.
“Jesus, you’re crying for me. This sweet little pussy wants to be fucked.”
“Only by you,” you say. And God damn it, no admission ever sounded better.
“Everything, all at once…you hold still, baby, and I’ll give it all to you,” I say.
You nod and spread your legs a little wider. That’s my girl. So eager.
I nudge the crown in, just enough for your hot sheath to grip me. Your breath catches. I pull out, the tip of my cock drenched from you. I run my hand up and with a wide-open hand, press against your lower stomach.
“Still,” I remind you. I hold you in place. “Keep these pretty thighs nice and wide for me.”
You nod.
I keep my free hand near the base of my cock and begin to run my aching, newly wet shaft between your folds. Your clit is a hot nub poking at my cock as I move up and down, massaging your sweet slit.
“Oh, my God,” you say. Your head lolls back, then you snap it up. Staying still like I said? Good girl.
“You want me inside you, but you like it when I pay attention to this sweet little spot right—here—”
I rock again, dragging my dick along you.
“You want both, don’t you?”
“Yes. God, yes, so much. Please, get inside of me.”
You’re close already just from this. Just wait until what comes next…
“I’m a man of my word,” I whisper in your ear then nip your lobe.
With my hand at the base, I shove my cock deep inside of you in one hard stroke.
You scream my name. Your hands slapping the car, trying to keep balance. Every time is better than the last and I forget how fucking hot and tight you are. A dream.
I thrust in and out. Hitting you deep a few strokes, then with a slight flick of my wrist, I pull out, and I’m back, fucking between your folds again, my dick running along your clit.
“Oh, my…I’m…I’m close.”
Oh, I know you are. Problem is, I’m deciding if I’ll let you come from your clit or your pussy. I love being inside you, feeling you milk me with your orgasm. And I am selfish, Shay. I’ve given your fair warning on this.
When you start to tremble, I shove back inside you. You scream again, your hips coming back to meet mine slapping your ass.
“Yes, oh, Coe…”
Nothing will ever sound better than my name on your lips when you come.
Your hot pussy grips me tightly, spasming and drenching me with every lash of your orgasm. That’s all it takes, baby. I’m a wreck with you. I can’t go all night at once because you make me come hard and fast. But I’m never spent. I want to fuck you again even as my current release climbs up my spine. I’m already thinking about the next time. Wanting it to be ten minutes from now. Or ten seconds from now.
“You’re getting harder…” you say.
That’s because I’m going to fucking blow and I’m glad you can feel it. Feel what you do to me.
I grip your hips and pump faster. Right when my dick ticks and balls tighten, I pull out and I’m back between your pretty folds, fucking along your clit as I come outside of you.
You’re slick with me. All over your lower stomach and thighs. I’m surrounding you, yet wishing I was still inside of you. But feeling you raw will haunt my dreams. When you leave me—here. I mean, when you leave here…I’ll think of your velvety cunt every night, trying to relive this moment that is already passing us by.
I shake my head, trying to dislodge the thought. Depression after sex is not attractive. And I don’t need to start thinking now. I kiss the top of your shoulder, then move away. I pull my pants up and grab my T-shirt off the ground. Dusting it off, I wipe up your thighs and pink pussy, cleaning whatever remnants of myself I left on you. I wish it could stay there forever. I wish I could stay in you forever.
I put your shorts on you, sliding them up your long legs. I kiss your kneecap, then rise to stand as your shorts come to your hips and I button them.
I see your face in the dim car light.
“You’re smiling.”
“Yes, I’ve never been dressed before. I mean, as an adult.”
I glance down.
Your palm rests on my cheek. The warmth and kindness radiate straight from you. Like maybe I’m a better person just being lucky enough to be in your presence.
Another thing I can’t think too long about.
“I better get you home,” I say, and reach to open the passenger side door for you. You nod and slide in.
You don’t say anything to me, but you’re not mad. You’re quiet. But I don’t know what’s going on in that incredible mind of yours. Are you thinking of me? Will you think of me after I drop you—
“Right here is good,” you say and point to the corner an entire block from your house.
“Yeah,” I say and slow to the side. I hate this. How did I go from being inside of you to dropping you off near your house? Not at your house. Near. Because I can’t drop you in the driveway. I can’t be seen with you in any way that could raise eyebrows. Especially your grandmother’s eyebrows.
You look at me, your fingers on the door handle.
“Thanks for the ride,” you say. That’s all you. I want more. Tell me something, anything. Tell me one thing that will hold me over until tomorrow. One damn detail about you just so I can stay an extra second in your presence.
You smile softly, then get out of the car.
You didn’t slam the door, but the loud crash of it shutting jars me. I’m alone, watching you walk up the sidewalk to your house.
I turn my car around in the middle of the dark, quiet road. I look back in my rearview, the sight of you walking away from me makes my chest hurt. Like someone has a grip on my left lung and I can’t breathe right. Do you have any idea of the pull you have on me?
And do you know what I’d do to turn around and spend the night—or two—or several—with you?