Hattie Mae
“Ahh… Slow down, Zane!” I am screeching as Zane is whipping us right into a puddle of mud as he guns the gas on the four-wheeler. Why in the hell did I agree to get onto this deathtrap with him? Oh yeah, it was those dang eyes and his tempting lips. My right arm is beating on his back while my left is snaked around his waist, holding on for dear life. And the only response I get is the jerk laughing at me. Mud splashes all over the two of us. I am pretty sure a bug just went down my throat as I was screaming. I cough and wheeze, trying to clear my throat.
He continues to laugh and go faster.
Jerk.
But then it happens. He gets hit in the forehead with a big bug and I lose it as he cusses under his breath.
“You didn’t see that damn thing. I will probably have a bruise. If anyone asks I was defending you against a wild animal.” He chuckles, and I shake my head.
We continue to zip through the mud and the trees. I have to admit I am having the most fun out here with Zane. Justin never wanted to do anything like this. He cared more about going to art galleries or hanging out with his friends playing Xbox. Zane is definitely a good ol’ boy and I like that about him. He is so fun and carefree. I lose track of time and myself when I am with him. I become completely engrossed with him. He enamors me with his wit and charm.
The death on wheels comes to a stop and Zane twists his neck around and smiles at me. “We are out of gas. I didn’t think to check before we left.” I smear mud across his smug cheek. “Oh, darlin’, you have no idea what you just got yourself into.” He has an amused, all-knowing, wicked grin on his muddy but perfect face.
I scoot back from him slightly. Throwing his leg over the side to climb off he steps into a deep mud hole while snickering.
His piercing blue eyes narrow on me with a mischievous glint.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” I shift my eyes, looking for an escape from whatever he is planning. On either side, no matter which direction I go, I will be ankle deep in mud.
“Come on.” He stretches his hand out to me and I shake my head no.
“I’ll carry you to safety,” he offers, and I am not sure if I should trust him.
“You promise no funny business?” I eye him with caution as he steps beside where I am perched. My choices here are limited. A—I sink down in the mud. B—I sit here while he goes to get gas. Or C—I trust Zane not to be a dick and do anything funny.
“Arms hooked around my neck and legs around my waist, Hattie Mae. I’ll give you a piggyback ride.”
“You just want to feel my boobs pressed against your back,” I tease.
“If I wanted your breasts smashed up against me…I wouldn’t have to ask. And you wouldn’t be covered in mud darlin’, you’d be slick with dirty sex sweat.”
At his words, my mind instantly flashes to exactly that…Zane pressing down on my naked body, both of us drenched in sweat from having the hottest sex ever. My cheeks flame, because I know without a doubt, that sex with this man must be amazing.
“Come on, the gnats are starting to circle.”
I really don’t have many options so when he turns his back to me I do as he said. My boobs are smashed against his hard back and my face is buried in the back of his sweaty neck. He smells like pure man and the woods—so fucking sexy.
With my extra weight, he sinks down deeper in the mud and I become self-conscious of whether he is able to carry me. I’m not on the skinny side. He doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest. We make it a few feet from where we got stuck and he drops to his knees and falls back on me planting me flat in the mud. Oh my God, the jerk!
“You weren’t muddy enough.” He chuckles as I shove at him angrily.
“Get off me, you big lug!”
“Mud is a good look for you,” he says, flopping down beside of me.
“Yeah, well, shit brown is a perfect look for you because you are a shithead.”
He laughs surprised by my insult. “I have been called many names by a woman before, but I don’t think shithead has ever been on the list.”
“I find that very hard to believe.”
“Why is that?” He asks, turning serious.
“Well…you do have quite the reputation.”
“And that means what?” His eyes have gone dark and I am afraid I have hurt his feelings.
I didn’t mean…well, actually I did but, I didn’t expect it to hurt him. Zane doesn’t exactly hide the fact that he is a womanizing whore. I need to fix this. He is looking off and I feel a coldness between us.
I dig my fingers down in the mud and smack him over the face with a clump. He smashes a handful on the top of my head. The two of us are rolling around happy as two pigs wallowing in shit. He has my arms pinned over my head now and leaning down over me. My God, he is just so beautiful to look at. I swear he could be a mud model if there was such a thing. Hell, there probably is. People have weird fetishes. The mud actually feels good on my skin. Maybe I am a mud weirdo, because this shit feels good.
Zane looks like he is thinking hard about something. It would be easy to lean up and kiss him right now, but I know I won’t. I’m not drunk today. My cheeks flush as the night before forces its way to the front and center of my thoughts.
Me falling out of his truck when he got me home. Licking his neck as he picked me up and carried me inside. I can still taste his salty sweat from where we were dancing. The way he smelled, like sex and liquor, lingers in my nose. How sexy he looked when he tucked me in. He was a pure gentleman. He even kissed my forehead, telling me he would be on the couch in case I were to get sick and need something. And then I was a big jerk, stripped down to my under clothes and asked him to do me.
I snap back to the present and I swear he knows why my cheeks are red. He smears mud on my nose and rolls away from me. My breathing is labored. My feelings are mixed all over the place.
I’m torn between my promise to myself and what my body knows my heart wants.
I want to kiss him.
Even if I know it’s wrong and will lead me down a road I shouldn’t travel, I crave the feel of this man.