By: Ashlee Price

 

Chapter One—Linc

I already had the start of a headache going when I stepped into the second bar of the night; Tulane’s had had last call about an hour before, and I’d finished off my beer there before moving on to Foster’s, which I knew would be open until four. I wasn’t even really drunk—I’d paced myself a bit—but I could walk home from Foster’s if I had to, without breaking too much of a sweat, and the owner there didn’t care if I left my car in the lot overnight.

Whoever had grabbed control of the jukebox at Foster’s was on some god-awful country music jag, and I walked up to the bar with my ears full of Hank Williams, Jr. and my brain full of Lisa’s most recent bullshit. Mandy, the woman working the bar, knew me, and by the time I took one of the seats at the bar, she was finishing up my first drink: Jameson with a PBR beer back. I looked around the place, trying to figure out if it would be worth it to find someone to chat up and take back to the motel on the other end of the block for a few hours. My new tenant was supposed to be coming in a day or so—and I knew I should probably at least do the normal checking around the unit before she got there—but after the news I’d gotten that day, all I wanted to do was go mindless for a while.

“You look like a wreck, Linc,” Mandy said as she set my shot and beer in front of me. I took my wallet out and handed her a twenty.

“That good, eh?” I gave her a quick smile and knocked back the shot, cracking the PBR as the whiskey burned down my throat and catching the first sip of it. “Same old shit. You know how it is.” Mandy and I had had more than a few talks about the shit-fest my life had become in the past few years; she was one of maybe three women I trusted, including my divorce lawyer, Carol.

“Not so bad that you couldn’t catch a willing woman if you wanted,” Mandy said, giving me a quick once-over. “Of course, most of the willing women here are three sheets already.” I laughed.

“I dunno,” I told her, taking another, longer sip of my beer. “I’m supposed to meet with someone tomorrow, early morning.” It was the first slot that Carol had had open when I’d called that afternoon after being served the paperwork. The envelope with the thick sheaf of paper in it was still in my car; I’d looked at it when I’d parked, thinking about whether or not to just call it a night.

“When has that ever stopped you?” Mandy flashed me another grin and took my twenty off the bar, taking it with her to the register while she checked on the handful of other people sitting there. She brought back my change while I occupied myself looking around. Two girls who were probably only just old enough to be in Foster’s in the first place, a couple of tourists who had delusions of being hikers—Birkenstock sandals, “rugged” cut jeans, crop tops—and a handful of regulars. Foster’s would really fill up in about another hour, after most of the other bars had closed down for the night, and I’d have a better selection to choose from.

Someone else—thank god—took over the jukebox, and the stream of country tunes gave way to some late Beatles music. It was at least an improvement, and I knew I’d miss it once the kids from the college dragged in. I thought about shoving a few bucks in the machine and putting on some Rage Against the Machine, or maybe Audioslave, something good and gritty and hard, but it was like I was nailed to the stool.

A few more people came in, and I spotted the one I’d take to the motel up the street: she was petite, with blonde hair in a sharp bob cut, long legs that looked like she might actually hike on a regular basis, tanned skin. She was in a skirt and blouse, showing off enough skin to tell whoever was looking hard enough that she was available without putting the goods completely on display. She’d do. I waved Mandy over when I saw she was free.

“What’s she having?” I gestured to the blonde.

“Beers, mostly,” Mandy said. “Stella. Had a couple of shots of Patron silver when she came in, with the other chick.” I nodded.

“Get her another Patron, and the friend too, from me,” I told her. Mandy rolled her eyes with a grin but nodded and took my money, handing me another Jameson as she did. I thought I might switch to water for the next round—I didn’t want to get too drunk to enjoy things with the blonde if it came to that, just pleasantly buzzed. Enough to fuzz the edges of the simmering rage I felt at my ex-wife.

Just as I expected, the blonde and her friend—a slightly chubby-looking brunette, a few inches taller, with her face made up and a sundress showing off a sunburn from that afternoon—came up to me as soon as they’d finished their shots. I smiled at them both; the brunette was more confident than the blonde, and I knew immediately that she thought the shots had been for her. “Well, well, well, what have we here?”

“Linc Hayes,” I said, holding out my hand to shake. “And you two lovely ladies?”

“Jess,” the brunette said, shaking my hand. “Ooh—you’re strong, aren’t you?” She gave me a flirty look and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at her.

“And you?” The blonde looked shy, but she was definitely interested. Her bright blue eyes had been on me from the moment Mandy had called them to the bar with the shots.

“Katie,” she said, barely squeezing my hand. Up close she was even more worth looking at than she’d been halfway across the room: little freckles on her cheeks, and her tits pushed up against the loose fabric of her bra.

“Pleased to meet you both,” I said, keeping my manners as polite as possible—for the moment, at least. I went through the usual, asking about their jobs, about who they were; I didn’t really care, but if years of hookups at base bars around the world had taught me anything, it was that nothing turns a woman on more than a guy who seems interested in who they are. Katie was an aspiring blogger, worked at some call center during the day, and Jess worked at a family business back in their mutual hometown of Arnette, Texas. They’d gotten some kind of deal from a travel agent friend to come to Colorado, and the guy who owned the apartment they were staying in—an Airbnb situation—had recommended Foster’s to them.

After a while, someone else at the bar started to chat up the brunette, leaving me with Katie, just as I wanted. “So, you got a boyfriend back home, Katie?”

She shrugged. “Someone I’m seeing off and on.” She gave me a shy little smile. “Right now we’re off.”

“Is that so? How lucky you’re in a brand-new town, and completely single.” I’d been slowly moving closer to her, drawing her in, getting past that little reserve of shyness she had.

“I thought so,” Katie said, tilting her head a bit. Her lips and eyes were practically begging me to kiss her. I held back—giving her what she wanted right away was a good way to give her control over the situation—and sipped the water I’d switched to about halfway through our conversation.

“Katie,” her friend called out, coming back to us. I groaned inwardly. Jess came to her friend’s side and half-covered Katie’s face with her hand to whisper something in her ear.

“Go ahead,” Katie said. “I can catch an Uber, worst case.” I raised an eyebrow at that. Jess gave her friend a peck on the cheek and a promise to check in, and then she was gone, headed for the door with one of the guys I’d seen sitting at the bar.

“Where’s she headed?”

Katie shrugged. “Guy she just left with apparently lives nearby.”

“Shame on her, abandoning you like that,” I told her, shaking my head, pretending I didn’t approve.

“I have a code to make her pay for the Uber,” Katie said with a little grin.

“Smart girl,” I said. “Hey—feel like leaving? This place is getting loud.” Katie gave me a quick look and I thought she’d turn me down, but the next moment she knocked back the last of her beer and put the empty down on the bar.

“Let’s go,” she said.

Rico, the night manager of the Motel 69 a block away from Foster’s, looked up as soon as I walked through the door. He raised one eyebrow a fraction of an inch and turned to grab the key to room 142—my room—before I even got to the desk. “You know this guy?” Katie’s voice took on a suspicious note.

“He’s a bud,” I said, brushing off the question. Rico had become a friend after I started bringing girls to his motel, but Katie didn’t need to know that. I wasn’t about to bring her back to my place, even though it was only a bit farther away; I didn’t need a one-night stand knowing where I lived. Don’t shit where you eat. It had been my old man’s advice, and I’d held onto it my whole life. I’d never hooked up with any of the guys in my SEAL team, no matter how desperate I’d gotten on deployments, and I’d never even hooked up with a Navy chick while I’d been in. Nowadays I never brought a girl back to my place, always either her place or this motel.

“Room for the night, man?” Rico put the key on the counter, and I nodded to him. “You can leave your check on the bed stand when you head out,” he said, holding out his hand. I shook it. I gave Rico a bit of extra cash to keep my room open for me; he knew that it would be taken at least once or twice a week, and I didn’t have to pay tourist rates, no matter the time of year. It worked out well for both of us. If the owner of the place knew he was doing it, he might lose his job, but in the meantime he made some extra scratch just by not booking it till last.

I finally made my move on Katie when we got to the room. I pushed her up against the locked door and tilted her face up to kiss her, starting out slow but steady and then sliding my tongue past her lips, letting my hands drop down to her waist. I pressed her body against mine and deepened the kiss, nibbling until she moaned into my mouth, already beginning to squirm. I pulled back and found the key in my pocket where I’d left it. “Let’s go inside before we start attracting attention,” I told the girl.

I got the door open and pushed Katie through it ahead of me. I was already hard as a rock, and any thought about my bitch of an ex-wife was a million miles away. All I cared about was what this girl felt like, what she tasted like. “You come here often?” I closed the door behind me and tossed the key onto the dresser.

“Shh,” I said, kicking off my shoes and walking towards her. She’d gone nervous on me again; I needed to keep her occupied, clearly. I kissed her again and took the plunge, bringing my hands up to cup her tits through her blouse. They felt just as heavy, just as full as I’d thought they would—Katie obviously didn’t stuff her bra—and by her moaning against my lips, I knew the girl wasn’t even thinking about being nervous anymore. I had her shirt off and my hands on her bra clasp before she could even think of slowing me down, and I felt her tugging at my tee shirt, trying to get it up and over my head. I lifted the girl up and she hooked her legs around my waist. Her ass was firm against my arms as I carried her over to the bed and sat down, keeping her on my lap.

I could feel the heat of her through her panties and my jeans; it felt like I had hot liquid metal pooling along my groin, and my cock was like a hunk of iron in my pants. I kissed her again and then dipped down to her neck, working my way to her tits. Katie squirmed on top of me, rubbing against the ridge at the front of my jeans, and it was like torture to have to hold back at all. I cupped her tits and brought them up to my mouth, claiming one and then the other with my lips and tongue, sucking like a starving baby and flicking my tongue against each hard little nub, making the girl gasp and moan like a whore.

I teased her for a little while, and then I couldn’t stand it anymore; I needed some relief. I pulled back and looked Katie in her bright blue eyes. “Think you can do me a favor?” I guided her hand down to my crotch and raised an eyebrow.

“As long as you promise—promise this won’t be it,” Katie said. I laughed.

“Babe, I can go all night, trust me. Even if you get me off by accident I’ll be recharged in five.” She climbed off of my lap and I stood up just enough to undo my fly and push my jeans and jockeys down over my hips, freeing my rock-hard cock. Katie’s eyes widened at the sight of it, and she looked up at me for a second, like she had no idea what she was doing. Either she’s impressed or she really doesn’t know what she’s doing, I thought. I almost told her to get up, that we’d just get to the main event; but I figured I could stand the amateur thing for at least a little while. Besides, her lips were thick enough that even if she’d never gone down on a guy before, there was no way it wouldn’t feel good to be inside her mouth.

Katie reached out and took the base of my dick in her hand, and then her lips closed around the tip of my erection and any worries I might have had about her being an amateur were gone. I groaned as she sucked and slurped, her tongue working the tip while she took me deeper into her mouth. I let my hands rest on her head, not pulling, and steadily pushed my hips up until I felt the little spasm, heard her gag on me—telling me she couldn’t take any more. I worked her mouth steadily, loving the feeling of her lips around me, her tongue swirling all over me, her moans vibrating everywhere. If she was this good with her mouth, I had to think she would be even better in the main event.

When I thought I was maybe five minutes away from coming, I pushed Katie off of me as gently as I could. She looked up at me from the floor at my feet, her lips still shiny from spit and pre-cum. “Something wrong?”

“Just that I want you on top of me right now,” I said, grinning at her. I reached down and pulled her up, steadying her on her feet.

“Hold on—let me get my skirt,” she told me, as I reached up from underneath to get at her panties.

“Leave it on,” I suggested. I buried my face against her tits and hooked my fingers into the waistband of her panties to tug them down. I kicked my jeans the rest of the way off and lay back on the bed, pulling the girl with me, positioning her over my hips. Katie rubbed herself against me, and I groaned again at how hot and wet she was—practically dripping on me, and even without being able to see, I could tell she was completely smooth.

I held onto her hips and pushed down slightly, and Katie sank down onto me, her soaking wet pussy wrapping around my cock inch by inch. I knew I should have grabbed a condom out of my jeans, but I was already committed; besides, I told myself as Katie started moving on top of me, rising and falling, twisting her hips like an eager whore who loved her work, she had mentioned being on the pill at the bar, and she and her friend had joked about an STD scare the friend had had that prompted Katie to get tested ahead of schedule.

It took me a minute or two to get a good rhythm going, but once I did, Katie’s body was squeezing me every time she pulled her hips up, and I started pushing harder and faster, slamming deeper and deeper inside of her. I heard her shout my name, and I reached down between us to start playing with her clit as she rode me, rubbing it in little circles that made her gasp and shiver.

I felt her muscles clench around me as she came, moaning and shouting, and kept going, hammering into her as she rode through her climax. I slowed down just enough to let her recover, enjoying the sight of her tits bouncing in my face, and kissed her again and again, nibbling at her lips, her neck, until I was sure she was ready for more.

Just when I was right on the edge—maybe two minutes from coming—I heard my phone ring. And it wasn’t just any ring, something I could ignore; it was the ringtone I’d set for Lisa, my ex-wife. There was no way I could just let the call go. “Fuck.”

“What? Did I hurt you?” I shook my head at Katie’s stupid question and lifted her off of me, letting her fall to the bed. I looked around for my jeans, and saw the girl looking up at me, startled and worried.

“It’s my ex-wife,” I told her.

“Come on. Really?” Katie was going from worried to annoyed.

“Yes, really,” I said. I found my pants and dug in the pocket for my phone. “It’s probably about my daughter.”

“You have a daughter?” I gave Katie a look and she apparently decided the question wasn’t that important. Of course she calls me now, I thought grimly as I tapped ‘accept’ on my phone.

“Lisa, what is it?” Every muscle in my body was tense, and my erection was starting to deflate already. “Did Jazmin want to talk to me or something?”

“I wanted to make sure you got the paperwork.” I clenched my teeth. The process server had come to my place that afternoon; there was no way Lisa didn’t know that I’d gotten the paperwork. She was just trying to rub salt in the wound.

“I did,” I said, taking a slow, steady breath. “Is that all you wanted to know?”

“Yep, just wanted to make sure you knew you had to be in Family Court,” Lisa said cheerfully. I could almost hear the venom in her voice.

“I know about it,” I told her. “Tell Jazmin her Daddy loves her.” I ended the call and turned to Katie. “Sorry, babe. I’m done for the night.”

Katie pouted. “But you said you could go all night.”

I scowled at her. “That was before my ex-wife interrupted us,” I said. “Come on, I’ll get you a cab.”

“I can get an Uber from here,” Katie said, sitting up on the bed. “I’m here another couple of days—maybe we can hook up again, finish what we started?”

I shrugged. “I’m going to be busy the next few days,” I told her. “But we’ll see.” I took her number while she got dressed, but I didn’t save it in my phone. In fifteen minutes she was out of the room, and I was headed to the lobby to give the key back to Rico. I walked back towards my place, thinking that at least I wouldn’t be hung over when I met with Carol.