ANOTHER CITY DOWN, another rung up the points ladder. I’m having a great season, but I dare not give it any more thought than necessary. Murphy’s Law will come and take it all away from me with an injury or something. My body feels good, and Doc was right— the yoga is helping. I didn’t feel near as stiff this weekend during my rides as my ass bounced on the back of the one-ton beasts.

The fifth wheel raises, and I slide in the king pin to hold it in place. Another week done, another long drive. Milwaukee here we come.

I open the door to the camper to see if Noa is ready to go, but she’s nowhere in sight. Her bedroom door is slightly ajar, but I can’t see inside. I do hear something though; is she on the phone? I stop at the threshold of the kitchen and the bathroom door to listen. Or is she softly snoring?

I tiptoe down the hallway, not wanting to scare her and stop dead in my tracks. The most sensual moan I’ve ever heard escapes from her throat. I take two more mini steps and grab for her door handle to close it, but in my haste, I just miss it, and the door pushes further open.

She releases another broken, guttural moan and my dick goes hard just hearing it. Fuck me, no wonder she’s so sensitive about this problem. It’s low and faint, but it turns me on.

Images flash in my mind of her bouncing on my dick, reverse cowgirl style, while I grip her hair in my hands and kiss her creamy, white shoulders. The pressure of my fully erect dick pressing on the seam of my zipper hurts and brings me back from my dirty thoughts.

Doc’s right again. I’d have had a very hard time sleeping through that, no pun intended. I inch forward to grab the handle again and look at her sleeping on the bed. Her hair is sprawled across the bed haphazardly, while her breasts rise and fall gently filling out her tank top perfectly. Her arm moves ever so slightly and raises the hem of her shirt up just a little to show a tiny mole on the left side of her belly button.

I suddenly have the urge to run my tongue over her skin to see if it’s as warm to the touch as it looks. My dick jumps in my jeans at that thought, prodding me to finish closing the door.  I grab a cold bottle of water from the fridge before jumping in Colossus and moving on. The images of Noa in my mind replay over and over until I drive myself half crazy with wanting her. It’s a good thing I’ve got the open road to distract me for the next eight hours.

An hour into the drive, Rowan’s face lights up my cell phone screen.  “Hey, Buddy. How’s your week been?”

“It’s been good. Can I come stay with you for a week when school gets out? Please?”

“Sure, as long as it’s okay with your mother. Have you asked her or are you feeling me out first?”

“You know I have to make sure it’s okay with you first. I want to ride a bull just like you rode After Midnight.  You owned him, Dad. Were you scared?”

“So you saw the show, huh? Nah, I wasn’t scared while riding him. That comes after, on Sunday — when I talk to my boy and find out he was watching me test the brassiness of a beast and might want to follow in my footsteps.” 

“Don’t worry. I don’t want to be a professional bull rider like you are. I just want to do it once to say I did it just like you.”

“Ah, I see. You know, you can do anything you want to, Rowan. Don’t let anyone put limits on your future, not even yourself.”

“Good. I wanna be a doctor and help sick people like mama get better.” My chest tightens with pride at his words. He’s such a great kid. His big heart and compassion are going to heal his patients, I know it.

“Dad, tell me how it felt to ride After Midnight last night?”

“The adrenaline pumps through you as soon as you sit down on his back and the thrill of the moment takes over. You can’t be scared because you’ve come too far for that now. You slip your palm under the handle, pull the bull rope as tight as you can to the bull, and then wrap the loose end around your hand just once, mind you. You need to be able to let go if he bucks you. Then you scoot forward onto the bull’s shoulders until the handle is between your thighs. Edge your spurs into the bull’s flank with your feet in front of the rope. Raise your dominant hand in the air, nod to the chute keeper and ride the devil for eight seconds with a blank mind. That’s all you need for the ride of your life. Still, want to ride like your old man?”

“Hell, yes.”

“Hey, watch your mouth, Rowan. Cursing is a sign of a weak man. It’s okay to think it, but use better vocabulary when speaking out loud.”

“Sorry, Dad. I didn’t know hell was a bad word. Grandpa says it at the beginning of almost every sentence.”

“I remember that about him, but be a better man than that. You have better words to express yourself.”

“Yes, Sir. I have to go now. I have to finish my homework before bed.”

“Okay, Buddy. I love you. Call me if you need me, or we’ll talk on Sunday.”

“Oh, I almost forgot. I’m not in school on Wednesday. Mom has court, and I have to go.”

“Court? For what?”

“For that day a few weeks back. She got in trouble for that.”

“Shit. I didn’t know that. I’m sorry, Rowan. That’s the last thing I wanted when I called for help.”

“Hey, Dad. Cursing is a sign of weakness. You know better words than that. And I know you didn’t get her in trouble. She found her own trouble.  All she can do is face it, and take her punishment. Drugs are bad, and she knows it.”

“I love you, Rowan. Be safe out there. I’ll check on you Wednesday night, okay?”

“Okay, Dad. I love you too.”

That boy. I sigh heavily. I’m not even sure he’s still a little boy if we’re going to have heartfelt conversations like that.  He should be playing video games and watching endless YouTube videos, not monitoring the drug habits of his mother. It makes me sad and angry.

I should be there, damn it. I beat my fist on the steering wheel, causing us to go out of our driving lane. The car next to me honks his horn and throws his hands up in the air at me. I gently correct us and mouth “sorry” to him, to which he flips me his middle finger.

“Unforgiving fuckhead.” Rowan’s right— I have better words for assholes like him, but I’ll save them for now.

I can’t get the fact out of my mind that Julie has court on Wednesday. I should be there for moral support. I open my phone and pull up Trent’s number.

“Hey, Braxton. What’s up? I caught last night’s ride. Amazing, man. Congratulations on first place.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it. Hey, umm, Rowan tells me that Julie has court on Wednesday for that little fiasco a few weeks back. I thought that would be low key. Do you know what’s going on?”

“I’m sorry, Brax. We filed it as a medical emergency, and sent an ambulance for assistance because she was passed out. The ambulance company filed their reports, but that’s customary for every ride they provide. That’s all I know, but I’ll ask around and let you know what I find out.”

“Alright. I appreciate your help, as always. I wish I didn’t need you so much, but I’m grateful for when I do.”

“No worries, man. I’m crossing all of my fingers that she gets clean for her and Rowan’s sake. Maybe this one will be her wake-up call.”

“You and me both. I can only pray for it. Thanks again, Trent.” I press the red dot and end the call. I guess I’m going to have to call her mom and dad, but before I can my phone rings with Noa’s name appearing on my screen.

“Hey, sleepy head.”

“Hey. I’m sorry for falling asleep. I was worn out from checking on one of the bareback rider’s concussion all night and then working the show today.  Do you need me to drive?”

“Not now. You can take over after we stop here in a bit.”

“Don’t you need to call your son?”

I’m deeply moved that she remembers that. His own mother can’t remember him half the time. “We spoke a little while ago. I’ll pull over at the next stop and let you come up front for a change in scenery. Besides, I owe you a whooping in Slug Bug.”

“You’re on, my friend. Challenge accepted.”

I pull over within the next ten miles at a gas station and walk about for a few minutes stretching my legs. Noa still hasn’t come out of the camper, so I peek my head inside. As soon as my nose crosses over the threshold, I smell her perfume. My eyes close, and I inhale her in. She smells like miles and miles of roses on a warm summer day.

I open my eyes to see her walking toward me, and quickly adjust my cock, so its rigid state isn’t so obvious.  “Hey, since we’ll be traveling until just about midnight, do you want some snacks for the road?”

She looks out the kitchen window at the bright lights of the grungy gas station. Lord only knows what her brain is thinking, but it can’t be good with the way her eyebrows are knitted so closely together. “No, thanks. I’ll grab some things from in here, and we’ll have a cab picnic.”

All I can do is smile. This woman will find the silver lining in a world full of thunderclouds.

“Okay. A cab picnic sounds fun.” I stand in awkward silence watching her bend and reach inside the cabinets, pulling bags and boxes out of every nook and cranny this little kitchen has.  Her tank top is tucked into the back of her jeans and the way it stretches and pulls taut as she bends, emphasizing the womanly flare of her hips and perfect roundness of her ass, has my cock needing another adjustment.

She comes down from her tiptoes, not being able to reach something and throws a bright ‘would you mind’ smile my way, catching me off guard. The light catches the shimmer in the make-up on her cheek, and I stumble in the door to get to her. Those gray eyes keep drawing me in.  “Could you get those for me, please?”

I step forward to reach the box of Craisins she can’t quite get her fingertips on and my arm brushes against the side of her breast. The heat of her body sends a bolt of electricity down my spine to my dick. It’s so hard now; it’s going to be pointing north for the rest of the trip.

How am I going to survive five more hours next to her?

“Is there anything you wanted in particular to eat?” she asks with the innocence of a child. All my dirty mind can think of is her, spread open wide across my table. Her legs bent back with sexy, high heels on her feet. My mouth waters in anticipation of the taste of her skin. How I’d love to feast on her like the starving man that I am.

“Brax. Hello.” She snaps her fingers twice in front of my nose. “What snacks do you want?”

“Oh, umm. Just grab the cheese crackers and the peanut butter pretzel nuggets, and you’d be great. I mean, I’d be great. No, that’d be great.”

She turns her head to the side and looks at me with one eyebrow raised. She mutters something that I can’t quite hear, but it sounds like, “I bet you’d be.” I turn away and walk back to the bathroom, hiding my now raging hard-on from her.

Shit. What the hell was that? I’m never tongue-tied. I run the cold water until it feels like ice in my hands, then splash it on my face. I unzip my pants and hold my cold fingers to my cock and think of Alaska in the winter. The mental image of forty below winds blowing on me makes my dick go soft in seconds.

Don’t think about her or you’ll get hard again. I repeat over and over in my mind while tucking my shirt back in and buckling my belt.  I wash my hands, and throw an extra splash of cold water on my face for good measure before stepping back into the kitchen.

She’s shuffling her feet into her flip-flops with the canvas grocery bag of snacks hanging on her arm. I avert my eyes, not wanting to notice anything particularly sexy about her, like the arch of her foot or that deep purple polish on her toes. Fuck. I’m going to have to close my eyes to get out of here.

“Ready to go?” I ask, stopping to check the handle on the back door to make sure it’s locked.

“Yes, Sir.”

I mentally let that comment slide before the picture of her down on her knees at eye level to my crotch creeps in. I’ve got to move her from my ‘want’ mindset to a ‘absolutely cannot have’ mindset. I just can’t seem to make the transition.

“C’mon, Doc. We’re burning daylight.” I shuffle her out the door with two of my fingertips on the indent of her lower back for no other reason than to touch her. I know my brain says to back off, but my body is fighting every natural instinct I have on that subject.

Within an hour and a half, she starts eyeballing the bag of snacks that sit on the floorboard at her feet. She’s flipped the straps a few times, taking peeks inside and deciding what to grab first, but she’s yet to pull anything out. She’s hungry and is being as mischievous as a child about it. She’s probably bored too because we’ve yet to see one Beetle on the highway since we set out.

We are just outside of LaCrosse, Wisconsin when the sky begins to light up with its pink, yellow and orange tones of light. Long streaks of blue and purple stretch out across the highway behind us in the rearview mirror.

I pull over at a rest stop. “C’mon, Doc. It’s time for that cab picnic before you starve to death.” Right then, her stomach decides to growl.

She chuckles at my statement and pushes on her belly. “I was trying to not be obvious, but I guess that gave me away. Sorry.”

I lift up the armrest on her captain’s chair and show her how to pull the bottom lever to turn the chair sideways. I do the same with mine. Then I fold the back of the rear seat flat to create a table.

“Well, will you look at that? I’m impressed.” Her ash-colored eyes turn glassy and soften at the coziness of how her cab picnic idea turned out. She starts pulling crackers and pretzels out of the bag, serving us both on small, dessert paper plates. I twist the cap off both of our waters, “Cheers,” I say, and tilt my bottle to touch hers.

Good food, a gorgeous sunset, miles of open road, and the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen all within eyesight. Life doesn’t get much better than this.