Ford

 

I woke with a start. “Huh?” I asked, looking around, my naked body immediately on edge.

 

My eyes finally focused on Micah in the dim, cool light of the fresh morning, looking just as beautiful as the first time I'd seen her. She was already fully dressed and slipping back into the hotel room as quietly as she could.

 

“Morning, sleepyhead,” she chirped, climbing onto the bed.

 

I wiped a hand down my face. “What time is it?” I asked as I propped myself up in bed on one elbow.

 

“A little before eight,” she said, her hand resting on top of the covers, just over my thigh.

 

I immediately felt a stirring below at her hand's pressure, but I pushed the thought away. As intense at last night had been, we had things to do today, like get Micah back to her pimp. Last night hadn't changed a damn thing.

 

I wasn't sure whether to believe her about the money in the safe. Maybe it was there, maybe it wasn't. Perhaps she knew how to get into it, and perhaps she didn't. Neither mattered to me, because neither was a guaranteed payday. Her sweet little ass going back to Daddy Williams, though? That sure as fuck was.

 

And, from her performance last night, I could see precisely why. She was like a fucking banshee between the sheets, a regular little hellion that could push back just as hard as she took it. No, a woman like Micah didn't just drop into your lap every day. No, sir. She was lightning in a bottle; that was damn sure.

 

My only regret in this whole thing was that I was going to have to give her up.

 

“Ready for breakfast?” she asked, her smile wide and cheery. “We can go to John's, that little place next town over?”

 

I shook my head and blinked my eyes. “Micah, I ain't got that kind of cash. Why do you think I wanna try and knock over Daddy Williams?”

 

She laughed, throwing her head back. “Don't worry, the neighbors are paying. I told them we're newlyweds and you left your wallet back at the chapel. They gave us enough cash to pay for gas to get there.”

 

I laughed and shook my head again, this time in complete disbelief. “You conned that poor couple out of money?”

 

“Geez, Ford,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “It's not like I stole a hundred bucks or something from them. Just a fifty. No big deal.”

 

I sighed. “Fine, lemme just get some pants on, okay? Then we'll get some food and figure out how we're going to get your friend out.”

 

A few minutes later, we were out the door. We waved goodbye from the car to the nice couple who'd unknowingly fed us breakfast, then pulled out and headed to John's in the next town over. There, we got inside and grabbed a booth near the back. Hopefully we'd be able to lay low here, and not have any of the usual suspects spot us.

 

Unfortunately, I hadn't really figured on Micah's way of drawing attention to herself. She could just sit there and eat her pancakes and draw a fucking crowd. I was used to going out to eat by myself, where everyone was too terrified to make eye contact with me, lest I beat them into the ground for their having disturbed me.

 

It wasn't the case, of course. I'd never do that. But I certainly wouldn't have flashed them that star-powered smile of Micah's, that was for damn sure.

 

As we sat there sipping on our coffee and orange juice, waiting on our sausage, eggs, and pancakes, a man in his early forties came over to our table, his eyes practically fastened to Micah. He'd been staring the whole time, and I was worried he might have recognized her, or me, from some place less than savory.

 

“Excuse me, miss?” he asked as he approached, his baseball cap held in front of him with both hands. “Would you happen to have been in the film After the Day?”

 

Micah laughed and shook her head, those beautiful lips of hers parting just slightly so you could see her perfect, pearly whites. “No, I'm sorry, I wasn't.”

 

“Well, shucks,” he said, snapping his fingers. “Guess I lost that bet with the wife. You know, you really should think of acting. You've really got the face for it.”

 

She blushed a little and looked away with a little false modesty. “Well, thank you for the compliment! It's always been a dream of mine to be an actress, and it's always nice to hear encouragement from strangers. I sure appreciate it.”

 

“Well, I'm sure you'll make it big, miss,” he gushed. “You really are just a striking woman.”

 

She shrugged and smiled. “Thank you again,” she said, before he turned around and went to rejoin his wife at their table.

 

“Told you she wasn't famous,” I heard the wife say.

 

“Swear she looked like that woman, Matilda. Swear it!”

 

“Get that a lot?” I asked as the waiter delivered our food. I noticed Micah had an extra pancake, free of charge, on her stack.

 

“Get what a lot?” she asked as she put butter on her pancakes, a little slice in between each perfectly round cake.

 

“Don't play stupid,” I replied as I began putting butter on my own. “You know what I mean.”

 

“What? People coming up to me like that?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Kind of,” she said, getting to the maple syrup first and drizzling it all over the cakes. “It is my dream, though.”

 

“What? To be an actress?”

 

“Of course,” she said, cutting a piece of pancake from the big stack and stabbing it delicately with the tines of her fork. “Who wouldn't want to star in films? Get to travel all over the world, go to fancy parties?”

 

“Well, I couldn't ever do it. Doesn't feel like real work to me.”

 

“What do you mean it isn't real work?” she asked with a smile. “Actors and actresses get up earlier than my grandpa used to, and he was a farmer. Most films start going at five, maybe six in the morning, and you work till eight or nine most nights. Sometimes later, with barely a day off during the shoot. What about that doesn't sound like work?”

 

I laughed. “Well, you're not sweating or having to do anything strenuous.”

 

“You saying lawyers aren't working? Or doctors? They work hard, don't they?”

 

“Fine, fine,” I said, still laughing. “Guess you made your point. It's real work, all right?”

 

She stabbed another piece of pancake with her fork, but paused with it halfway to her mouth. “Ford,” she said, the bit of pancake hovering in the air just in front of her suddenly serious face for a moment before she set it back down on the plate, “I grew up in the middle of nowhere, born to a bunch of nobodies. And now I'm here, and I almost ended up doing what I ended up doing, you know? If I don't dream, if I don't try for it, what's the point? Want me to marry some banker, then worry about how I could've been a star when I'm on my deathbed?”

 

I smiled and nodded. I understood. I'd taken my shot and tried to be a fighter. It just didn't happen for me, though. I didn't have the draw for the crowds, or the star power. Not like this beauty did. Micah could walk into a dump like this and shake it to its foundations just by glancing around and giving everyone one of her perfect smiles.

 

“You know what?” I asked, a slow grin growing on my face. “You're right. I think you could do it, too.”

 

“You think so?” she asked, her mood changing like it was going from night to day. She beamed at me.

 

“Yep, I really do.”

 

She got up from her side of the booth and came around next to me. “Scooch,” she said, bumping me with her shapely hip.

 

I laughed and slid over while she repositioned her breakfast plates in front of the new spot. I couldn't remember the last time I'd laughed this much, or the last time I'd been able to forget all my problems. It had taken a near-prostitute to get me shaken from my funk, but she'd done it.

 

She picked up her fork with her left hand and began to eat, then put her right on my thigh.

 

“What're you—”

 

“Shhhhh,” she said, smiling and turning to me. “Just enjoy it.” She had my zipper down and my length fished out of my boxer briefs in no time, her agile, soft fingers dancing up and down my cock.

 

I looked around frantically. I was into some rough stuff, kinky, even, but in public like this? Admittedly, something about it was incredibly erotic, like getting a blowjob or a handy while driving down the road. But this was a restaurant! “You can't—”

 

She silenced me with her thumb, swirling it around my head.

 

Pleasure lanced through my body, and I groaned low as she kept up the action.

 

“I like sausage with my breakfast,” she idly said, her voice low and daring, that little smirk still on her lips.

 

My breath came faster as she worked her hand up and down my now turgid member, her grasp firm but smooth, and most importantly, soft.

 

“You like that, don't you?” she murmured in between bites. “Having some naughty woman playing with you beneath the table where anyone might see?”

 

I nodded silently, only a groan escaping my throat.

 

“You don't have to hold back, Ford,” she whispered, her eyebrows waggling up and down, the tip of her tongue snaking out and licking her lips. “I love feeling your hard meat sliding in my hand. It's like holding a piece of fire when you're all into it.”

 

The cum was building in my sack; I could feel it. The way her hand, slick from my precum, felt was just fucking wonderful, magical, even. I moved my hips a little, the booth bench creaking with each subtle thrust from my hips. I braced myself on the table with both hands, my breath coming faster and faster. “I'm close,” I growled under my voice.

 

“Then cum for me, handsome,” she said, her lips turned up at the corner, her eyes laughing darkly, but still filled with so much lust. “I wanna get you ready to bend me over as soon as we're back at the hotel. I want you to last forever while you're slamming that cock into me from behind.”

 

That was it. That was exactly what I needed. I groaned low, grunting as I clamped my eyes shut and thrust hard into her fist. Pleasure seemed to blossom in me, filling my whole body with warmth as I came in her hand.

 

I could feel all eyes in the restaurant on me as I panted, my cum flowing over her hand and down my cock, even though I knew no one was paying me any attention.

 

“You liked that, didn't you?” she purred just before leaning forward and taking another bite of pancake.

 

This woman was a little fucking hellion! I'd never had anything that hot or unexpected happen to me, and I'd been around the block more than a few times. I nodded, still breathless, and gathered some napkins from the dispenser. She took her hand from me as I reached below and began to clean myself up with the napkins.

 

“Hey, Ford,” she whispered, getting my attention. “Can you hand me a napkin, too?”

 

I smiled a little. “Clean it up yourself.”

 

She smiled wickedly, biting her lower lip as she shook her head a little.

 

“Go ahead,” I whispered. “You all of a sudden some kind of prim little princess? Do it.”

 

She brought a finger up, giving me a little wink. She closed her lips around it and shut her eyes as she sucked me from it with a little moan. She showed me her newly cleaned, now wet digit. “Can I have a napkin, now?” she asked with a giggle.

 

“Good girl,” I said, handing her one.

 

Yep. She was a hellion, all right. I realized I was getting hard again already, thoughts of her naked body bent over the little table in my room, of her riding me hard, my hands crushing those beautiful breasts, of us holding each other tight afterward, whispering our dreams and secrets from our past to each other.

 

Wait. What was that last part?

 

Shit.

 

I couldn't give her back to Daddy Williams now, could I?

 

We finished our breakfast with her pressed against my side and my arm around her shoulder.

 

Sure, I could, I figured. Why not? It had been her choice that had gotten her into this in the first place, right?