Chapter 8

Home is where I can stand in the kitchen, naked while eating peanut butter, and rapping an old-school Ludacris song and not be judged.

-Text from Naomi to Sean

Naomi

“I didn’t realize that you lived in a trailer,” I murmured as I walked in the door of Sean’s RV after running by my house for an overnight bag.

Well, if that was what one would call it.

“It’s an Airstream,” he informed me. “What’s cool about it is that it’s made out of old jet materials.”

“What?”

“During World War Two, the government forced the manufacturer of the Airstream to shut down production because the aluminum that was being used to make them was in such high demand. Hence the ‘jet materials’ comment,” he explained as he started flipping on lights.

I didn’t know what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t what I saw.

“It looks like a mini apartment on wheels,” I breathed. “This is beautiful.”

Sean dropped his keys onto the table that was poking out of the corner of the room, and I followed suit with my own purse and keys.

The interior of the trailer was pleasant. Almost as if it were done with the intent to sell it. The easiest and most pleasant to appeal to both men and women.

“Did you redo this?” I asked.

I eyed the dome shaped walls and roof that were lined with aluminum. The couches were nice. A nice warm brown leather that looked like they’d accept me as a part of it if I sat down right now.

Then there was the sink. A full farmhouse sink took up what minimal countertop that there was, with one of the largest faucets I’d ever seen.

The stainless-steel countertops were even cooler, rounding out the whole industrial look perfectly.

The sight of Sean’s bed, though…that was where I wanted to be.

I wanted to lie down on that white down comforter, bury my head under his pillows, and never get back up again.

“Take a shower first,” Sean said, practically reading my mind. “Wash the dirt of the road off your skin. I like my bed clean.”

I turned and stuck my tongue out at him.

“You’re an ass,” I said, but sat down on the kitchen chair that was one of two next to a postage stamp sized dining room table. “But I like you anyway.”

Sean moved to the kitchen sink, washed his hands, and then dried it on a towel that said ‘I like Big Tits.’

“Nice towel,” I observed dryly. “Where can I get one for myself?”

He grinned. “My best friend from high school got it for me. He has a quirky sense of humor.”

I could imagine.

Though, I really did like the towel. I had a few shirts that were vulgar.

Like the one I brought to change into.

“What’s for dinner?” I asked as I slipped my first boot off.

He opened the fridge and grabbed a beer, twisting the top off of and tossing the lid in the sink. All the while he kept his eyes on the fridge as he examined its contents.

“I can grill some chicken. Fry some chicken. Or we can have sandwiches.”

Fried chicken sounded amazing.

“What do you feel like doing?” I questioned.

He looked at me.

“I don’t care, to be honest,” he admitted. “The easiest thing is sandwiches, but I’m starving, and I’d have to have four at this point to fill me up.”

My mouth twitched.

“Chicken.”

He rolled his eyes and sighed. “I knew you were going to pick that. Knew it!”

I shrugged. “I’m hungry. And honestly, I had a sandwich for breakfast.”

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll help you cut the fat off the chicken if we can have mashed potatoes.”

He smiled that smile that could bring me to my knees. “I can do that.”

I took a quick shower, changed into clean clothes, and we worked in his tiny kitchen, brushing up against each other as we moved about.

By the time dinner was on the small kitchen table, my heart was pounding, my cheeks were flushed, my panties were drenched, and I wondered if I could go where this was going.

I hadn’t had sex for a long time. At least two years, if not more.

But that wasn’t even the scariest part.

My body wasn’t the same as it used to be. I wasn’t just a girl who was insecure about her body. Now I was an insecure woman who knew with certainty that her body wasn’t attractive.

I mean, who would find a colostomy bag attractive? I wouldn’t…

“Hey,” Sean’s deep voice broke into my thoughts. “What’s that look on your face for?”

Like I would tell him the truth.

Oh, nothing much. I want to fuck you, but I’m not sure how you’ll react to having my poop bag squished between us while we’re doing the dirty.

Instead I said, “I’m starving.”

“Then why aren’t you eating?” he challenged.

I picked up my fork and knife and cut it all into bite sized pieces before I started to dig in.

It wasn’t until I was four moans into my fourth bite when I realized that Sean wasn’t eating.

I looked up at him, fork suspended in the air, and raised my brows at him.

“What?” I asked, taking in the strange look on his face.

“Good?” he sounded slightly strangled.

I nodded, not answering.

He carefully picked up his fork, speared a bite, and then popped it into his mouth.

He didn’t moan, and I wondered if he had enough gravy. I eyed his plate, seeing his large knife resting against the side of the plate, and returned my attention to Sean’s eyes.

“I think you need more gravy.”

He looked at me like I was just on this side of crazy.

“I have a lot of gravy,” he pointed to the overflowing gravy that was on his mashed potatoes.

“But you have none on your fried chicken. It’s sacrilege.”

I indicated this by showing him my plate. What I had resembled soup with globs of mashed potatoes and chunks of fried chicken rather than a plate of food dressed with some gravy.

He curled his lip up at me.

“I think I’m good,” his lips twitched.

I shrugged and continued to scoop the food into my mouth, wondering if I looked like a fat ass with how much I was eating and how fast I was shoveling it in.

Then I decided not to care.

If he couldn’t handle this about me, then we’d never work together. I was a girl who liked to eat. Tacos, fried chicken, gravy, rolls and macaroni and cheese were my all-time favorites. If those five things were in the same room as me, they were going to be eaten. I couldn’t help myself.

I was nearly to the end of my meal when I realized, once again, that Sean hadn’t eaten nearly as much as I had.

I took one last fork full of food and pushed the plate slightly away.

I would’ve pushed it further away if there was room to do that, but if I pushed it much more, it would move Sean’s plate closer to him. And with the way he was looking at me, I wasn’t sure what was wrong with him.

Not wanting to set him off, I watched him staring at me.

It took him a few long minutes, but he finally said something.

“I like that you like my food.”

I blinked, surprised by that.

“Okay,” I said. “It was really good.”

He grinned. “I got that by all the moaning and groaning you were doing. It’s like you were having sex…with the food I cooked you,” he hesitated. “I want to hear those same sounds coming out of your mouth while my cock is inside of you.”

Should I tell him that I wanted that, too? Should I tell him that I’m scared shitless that he’ll see me as disgusting when I take my shirt off? Would he notice if I left my shirt on? Or maybe he could take me from behind.

“When you go quiet like this, it drives me fucking insane. I want to know what you’re thinking.”

His rumbled words had me bringing my eyes—eyes that I hadn’t even realized that I’d dropped away from his—back up his assessing gaze.

I chose to run into the bathroom and close the door, composing my thoughts.

Once I’d checked my bag, and washed up, I headed back out to the bedroom where I found him staring at me expectantly.

“You scare me,” I informed him. “I want you to like me. I want you to want me. I want you to swear to me that you’ll never hurt me. But most of all, I want you to take me with that promise in your eyes that I’ll enjoy the shit out of it and you won’t let me down.”

I wasn’t immediately aware of how much of an invitation it sounded like until I was being hauled up by my armpits and then shoved onto the bed.

My back hit the white duvet cover, I bounced and then I found myself without pants.

My shoes had come off with the force of my pants leaving my body, and before I could do anything, even scream, I found myself flipped over onto my belly, my hips brought to the edge of the bed, and my panties following the same direction as my pants had taken only moments before.

I gasped, and went up on my elbows as I tried to brace myself, but I forgot how to breathe when I felt his lips on the inside of my thighs.

“I’ve wanted to fuck you since I saw you the first day you were on shift with me,” he growled. “Wanted to taste you. Touch you. Have you. Now I’ve got you in my bed, and I can’t figure out what I want to do first.”

I breathed out shakily.

“To smell your sweet scent with my mouth only inches from your hot,” he ran his tongue up the inside of my thigh. “Sweet,” the other thigh. “Pussy.”

He ran his tongue through the seam of my sex, and I moaned, reaching forward to grab the pillow that was at the top of the bed.

The minute I had it in my hand, I buried my face into it, wondering if I was too loud and if someone would hear.

But then he licked me again, and I felt the rasp of his beard on the inside of my thighs, and I forgot everything but what I was feeling.

The experience of him licking my most private place was almost surreal.

I couldn’t believe this big, broad, sexy beast of a man with the most amazing beard I’d ever seen in my life actually wanted me.

ME! The woman who was always second best. The woman who was often cheated on, who was never really wanted by anyone in the first place.

But when he growled into my pussy, pressing his face even deeper into me while he licked me from behind, I realized something.

This man wanted me, really wanted me.

He wanted my pussy.

And I was giving it to him.

I might regret it in the morning, or might not, but for right now—this man was mine.

And I wanted his cock inside of me.

“Inside, please. I need you inside. Your cock.”

My words were broken and stilted, but it was because I couldn’t figure out how to speak clearly. My brain was mush.

He laughed.

But did he give me what I asked? No. Not exactly.

What he did give me was his fingers along with his mouth.

One hand went to one ass cheek and pulled it, allowing himself more room while the other hand snaked up the outside of my thigh and moved in, one blunt finger trailing along the lips of my sex.

The moment he was poised at my entrance, I shivered in anticipation.

“You want this?”

I nodded, my hair coming loose from my messy bun.

“Yes,” I pleaded. “Please.”

He pressed that finger to my entrance and breached me. Pressing so slowly inside that I had to fight not to push back against him.

But when I tried to do just that, his hand on my ass tightened and he said, “Don’t move. I’m playing.”

I wanted to cry out in frustration, but he didn’t give me the chance.

Why?

Because he went from teasing me to rapid thrusts in a matter of moments.

No longer were his movements slow and taunting.

Now they were fast, hard, amazing.

It was exactly what I needed.

I opened my mouth and bit the pillow I was holding on to, crying out when his tongue went back to my clit.

I cursed and pushed back despite his orders, and bit the pillow to keep my cries of ecstasy inside.

He exhaled over my clit, and it was then I realized that he’d shifted so that now his head was now underneath me, and my hips were pulled away slightly from the bed to allow him room.

When had he done that?

Quickly, he recaptured my attention as he sucked my clit softly into his mouth, giving it a tentatively soft lick.

“Oh, fuck,” I moaned.

His hand on my ass pushed up slightly, telling me without words that he wanted me to lift said leg.

And when I did, I was rewarded by his fingers sinking deeper inside of me.

Then they curled, tapping against my G-spot, and I lost all rational thoughts as an orgasm suddenly tore through me so freakin’ fast that I hadn’t even had time to brace.

Stars danced behind my closed eyelids, as wave after wave of elation poured through me.

I grunted as his fingers made one last thrust into me and then collapsed onto the bed, and incidentally onto his face.

It took me a few long seconds to realize what I’d done, but by the time I figured it out he was already wiggling out from under me.

“Oh, God,” I moaned, looking at him over my shoulder as he came to a standing position behind me. “I’m so sorry.”

His grin was one that clearly said he didn’t care that I’d fallen onto his face at the peak of my passion. “Don’t worry,” he said as he ripped his shirt off over his shoulders and dropped it to the floor. “I didn’t mind.”

I continued to watch him, bringing my knees further up underneath me, and went to sit up onto my shins.

He stopped me with one huge hand on the small of my back. “Stay.”

I did, waiting for what he would do next.

And what he did next was enough to send a shiver of fear through my body.

“Holy cow,” I breathed as he ripped his pants open, one button at a time, and then shoved them and his underwear down to his knees.

I licked my lips as I got my first good look at his cock, and I wondered if it was possible to take something that large into an orifice so small.

Surely his cock wasn’t as big as it seemed.

Something sounded in the yard beyond the trailer, and my eyes widened as I realized what I was hearing.

“Is that your dad?”

An hour or so before when we’d arrived, I was surprised to find that behind the house we’d been in earlier was a trailer. In the driveway. It was right next to where the men parked their bikes when we’d arrived back home.

But now, I could hear a motorcycle starting up right outside the window.

Son. Of. A. Bitch.

“No idea,” the man that was running his work-roughened hand down the ridge of my spine murmured.

Then I felt what resembled a steel pole covered in flesh bump up against the inside of my thigh, and stiffened.

“Sean,” I pleaded. “We can’t.”

Then he pressed that hard cock of his up against my entrance, started to push inside, and then cursed and backed away.

I looked behind me as he stomped away, stopping in front of a cabinet that was just to the right of the kitchen area.

He pulled the cabinet open, yanked down a box that was clearly a package of condoms—one, might I add, that had a layer of dust on it—and viciously ripped into it.

The way he was tearing into it actually made me smile, but the moment he turned and I got another look at his big cock, nerves started to ripple in my belly.

“Have you ever permanently scarred a woman when you were taking her?” I asked as he made his way back to me, a condom in his hand.

He didn’t answer, instead held the package with his teeth and pulled out the contraceptive, and then tossed the wrapper in the vicinity of the sink.

My eyes went to his hands as I watched in fascination while he slicked it down his cock.

“It’s red,” I murmured.

“And ribbed,” he agreed.

I opened my mouth to say something more, and then shut it when I heard the motorcycle rev up, and then descend down the driveway.

Relief must’ve shown on my face, because Sean grinned.

“Been doing this for five years now, darlin’,” he informed me. “Dad knows better by now.”

I didn’t believe him.

“You can’t be positive.”

He came back up behind me and I dropped my head back down to my pillow, squeezing my eyes shut tightly as I waited for him to enter me.

“If the trailer’s rockin’,” he rumbled. “Dad doesn’t come a’ knockin’.”

With that he pushed into me, spearing me with his big, hard cock.

I screamed.

Both in a good and a bad way.

I’d never, not once, felt so full as I did right then.

I’d had five sexual partners in my life and none of them had been as big, or as thick, as Sean was.

He touched me in places that I never knew were even there to be touched, and kept touching.

As more and more of him filled me, I felt his hips hitting the back of my legs, and I was fairly certain that if I died today, I would die a very happy, fulfilled woman.

He hadn’t even started to really move yet, and I was already on the verge of coming again.

His hands clenched on my hips, as I breathed in through my nose and out through my mouth in an effort to gain control of the situation.

But Sean didn’t want me in control. He didn’t want me to be anything but aware of him. Which I was.

Very much so.

“Sean,” I whimpered. “Please.”

I didn’t even know what I was asking for at this point. To fuck me? Pull out? Rub my clit?

He was obviously aware of what I needed, though, because he withdrew and then slowly filled me back up.

He did this over and over while I tried to catch my breath.

It took me a few long moments of pulling air into my lungs to realize that it was futile.

I wasn’t going to catch my breath.

Not with Sean’s magnificent cock inside of me, and sure as hell not while his hands were clenching so tightly on my hips that it was almost painful.

He never let up, he just kept stroking into me, over and over again, as I tried not to scream so loud that Sean’s ears would hurt.

“You want my hand, baby?” Sean asked as he paused in his ministrations.

I moaned into my pillow, and bucked back against him, wondering if he was going to smack my ass for participating.

“Sit still,” he ordered, not with a smack to my ass, but with two hard squeezes on my hips that told me to stay exactly as he had me positioned.

I would have bruises the shape of his fingertips on my hips in the morning.

I didn’t care, though.

Nope, not one single bit.

What I did care about was coming, and I knew that I would if I just got him to speed up…or thrust harder.

“Please,” I repeated my earlier plea. “I’m so close.”

Sean’s mouth moved to my shoulder blade, and one hand went into my hair at the base of my neck.

“Sit up,” he ordered. “Now.”

I did, wondering what he would do if I refused.

And I found out because, apparently, I didn’t hustle quickly enough at his command.

Mostly because he fisted his hand into my hair and pulled me up, causing me to pause for a second as a shiver of anticipation skated up my spine.

“Sean,” I breathed out shakily. “You’re driving me crazy.”

He laughed in my ear, letting his mouth run along the delicate skin of my neck.

“I drive you crazy?” he asked. “How do you think I feel?” He bit down lightly on the skin at the base of my neck. “I tried to take this slow, but your pussy is so fucking tight, and you’re squeezing those muscles every few seconds, trying my patience and my sanity.”

I squeezed involuntarily, and he groaned into my ear.

“I’ve wanted you for weeks. Then, today, you rode on the back of my bike, wrapped around me, for hours, sometimes with your hand in my lap, laying right over my goddamned cock. And you wonder why I have no fucking patience?”

I didn’t wonder at all, actually.

What I was thinking about, however, was the way this new position made him feel inside of me.

I felt him everywhere.

“Touch yourself,” he ordered.

My eyes fell closed, and I moved my hand down to come to a rest on my pubic bone. My fingers were curled lightly around the lips of my sex, and I moved one lone finger through the folds, amazed by how wet I was down there.

Then I came into contact where his cock was moving inside of me, and my heart started to pick up.

I was so stretched, that it felt like my entrance was straining to accommodate him. I knew if he wasn’t careful, he really could hurt me.

But I didn’t need to worry.

The man knew what he was doing, that was for sure.

Especially when he started to lift me, his large hand around my waist. Moving me up and down the length of his shaft, filling me over and over in smooth, calculated thrusts.

“Goddamn, you feel like fuckin’ heaven,” he rumbled, his beard tickling my shoulder. “I keep thinking I’m going to be able to hold on for you to come, and then I get to thinking about how good you feel and forget I’m supposed to wait.”

I curled my arm up and around his neck, holding his head to me as I turned my own and pressed a soft, wet kiss on his lips.

He growled into my mouth, and suddenly I found myself empty, crying out, and flipping to my back.

He was on me before I could comment on his abruptness, filling me back up with his length, and hitting new and even more exciting spots inside of me.

The breath left me once again, the third, fourth, or whoever knew how many times, and I struggled not to pass out from the pleasure he was inflicting on me.

I lifted my feet, curling them around his big body, and held on as he took me roughly.

“Fuckin’ get there,” he growled. “Or I’ll go without you.” He sounded tortured, but I didn’t argue with his terse words.

Instead, I moved my hand back in place, and slowly started to circle my clit, being careful not to touch where we were joined again.

Because despite what most women said, I did want to get off. I wanted to come with him inside of me, and it did matter if he came and I didn’t.

In the end it didn’t matter, because all it took was eight circles of my fingers, combined with his precise thrusts hitting that special spot inside of me that no one else had ever hit before in my life, and I was coming.

Hard.

I clamped down so hard on him that I knew the instant he knew I was coming.

His eyes changed, his jaw clenched, and he stared into my eyes as he let go, too.

We came together.

Him only seconds behind me.

And it. Was. Glorious.

At least until he collapsed beside me, his large, muscular arm going over my chest, and his thick, strong thigh pinning down one leg.

“Ughhh!” I groaned. “You weigh a freakin’ ton, Sean.”

He didn’t move.

“Seanshine!”

He got up on one elbow and narrowed his eyes at me. “Don’t call me that.”

My lips twitched, but my eyes, I hoped, remained innocent.

“Why not?” I asked joyfully, running my bare foot up and down the length of his thigh. “I think it’s cute.”

He bent down and bit my lip lightly.

“Because I asked you not to,” he tried.

I shook my head, grinned, and said, “Not good enough.”

He growled and pulled back, his cock sliding out of me.

Then his fingers were there, touching me and feeling me, and I blushed.

“What are you doing?” I demanded, sitting up.

He let his fingers slide through my folds to my entrance, and probed softly.

“Just making sure I didn’t do any irreparable damage,” he teased.

I picked up the pillow I’d screamed in the entire time, and hit him upside the head with it.

“Shut up.” I pushed him away and stood up, walking carefully to the bathroom.

I was sore, but it was a good kind of sore. One where I would be feeling him tomorrow while I was at work. And remembering how good he felt inside of me the entire time, counting down the hours until we could do it again.

He whistled softly behind me, making me toss him a smile over my shoulder.

“Excuse me, while I clean up,” I told him as I walked into his bathroom and closed the door.

I felt him moving about the RV, likely discarding the used condom, and looked at myself in the mirror.

I didn’t look any different.

Sure, my neck was beard burned, and my face was awash with color, but it wasn’t that different than my usual.

And the funny thing was, was that I felt good.

Definitely not nervous like I thought I’d be, or embarrassed.

I didn’t once think about my colostomy bag until I sat on the toilet to clean myself.

During when he had me up on my knees, my back to his front, he had to have felt it. It was nearly impossible not to notice.

But he hadn’t said a word. He didn’t make a big deal of it, and he didn’t seem to really even care.

And that made me…happy. Exceptionally happy.

I liked that he didn’t make a big fuss about it. At least not the way my brother had when he’d first seen it.

The icing on the cake, though? That was knowing that the man I’d slowly been falling for the last few weeks had the hots for me just like I had the hots for him.

Yes, it was good to be Naomi Beth Salazar. Very, very good.