Chasing Storm (9 page)

I’m falling, headed for that orgasm when his cock slips out of me, flicking up between us. The void is so empty, the shock so great that the feeling ebbs away.

No, not now. Christ.

“You never wanted me anyway,” the band sings in unison.

I’m about to turn and dig my nails into him when I feel his hand cup the space between my legs, his fingers digging for my moisture. Suitably covered, he drags his hand up between the cleft of my bum, coating the puckered orifice there.

You’ve got to be fuckin–

My eyes open wide when I feel the head of him there, pressing at the ring of my anus, half of its mushroom tip already inside.

I’ve never been fucked in the ass before, never even had a finger there – nothing.

“You never cared for me the way they did,” the singer cries out.

Storm grabs my legs tight, reaches up to my waist and brings me back onto his cock. He pushes forward at the same time and I feel the resistance there, my muscles balled up and tight. I relax and he pushes in, stretching and burning with a sense of such taboo, such shame, that my pussy drips anew just below.

He grunts when the base of his cock tickles the dimpled, sweaty mound of my ass cheeks. He begins to slide out, then in, in and out, in and out and it’s such an unusual, erotic feeling that another orgasm rises.

The band is winding up, drawing to that cliché crescendo I know so well.

The crowd’s clapping along. I steady for balance as the excitement floods over those around us. They scream, cry out and I join them, wailing with all my lungs into the air as this Storm fills my ass for the very first time.

I don’t know whether it’s the fact it’s so taboo, or simply the anticipation, but it feels amazing.

As soon as his fingers touch my clit I come with such speed I fall into some kind of fit, my sphincter spasming so hard he has to push against me to stay inside.

As stars fill my eyes he thrusts one final time, further than ever before. I feel the heat there, his cum pumping into my ass.

Another crash of the cymbal and the band is met with rapturous applause.

“Thankyou! We’re the Pig Phuckers. Goodnight!”

I turn, my skirt falling back into place and we kiss.

Storm envelops me, pulling me tight against his hard body as the cheers continue and the concert marches on.

His cock jerks between us.

I’m breathless. “I can’t believe
that
just happened.”

He smiles. “Believe it.”

“How did you even know I’d be here?”

He plays coy.

“That bitch.”

“Hey, that’s no way to talk about your best friend.”

“How did she even get your number?”

“She’s friends with the drummer in our band.”

“Oh.”

“And how to do you know the Pig Phuckers?”

“Facebook, an hour ago.”

“You’ve got a Facebook page?”

He tries to stuff his cock back into his pants. “Sure. I’m not a complete hermit, you know. We do have the internet out here.”

Social media, hey. Another day, another surprise.

He looks worried. “You’re not glad I came?”

I run my hand down his chest, still a little fuzzy as to how he managed to materialize right here before me.

“I’m sorry about before,” I start. “I overreacted. You were right. I should trust you.”

He smiles. “Yeah, you should.”

I push him away. “Bastard.”

He pulls me back, kissing me deeply. “I’ve been called worse.”

Jemma remains absent, sending me a text later to confirm she’ll be leaving with her friends.

How convenient.

Storm offers to accompany me home.

“What about your bike?” I protest.

“Caught the bus here.”

“The bus? But how were you planning to get home?”

He raises an eyebrow.

“Oh, really? You were that confident.”

“Yes.”

“Fine, come on then.”

But we never make it. Before we know it I’ve missed the turn off to Rosie, the hand on my leg guiding me towards dangerous waters.

I pull into Storm’s driveway and we spill out of the car giggling and struggling not to strip each other down right there in the dirt and mud.

*

I wake tangled in sheets and Storm, hair matted on my face as morning sun slants through the windows.

Back again.

The night comes back to me, our bodies locked together.

I look over his prone body. He might be a hard man of the road, I muse, but he sleeps like a baby.

I stroke his cheek, the hard lines that run down to his neck and shoulders. He stirs but doesn’t wake.

I stand, wrapping the sheets around myself and look around his room.

It’s sparse, more or less empty but for a shelf of trinkets. There are a couple of toy cars and bikes, concert tickets, an old gramophone.

There’s a picture frame, two boys together, but when I look closer I step back in shock.

No.

Hands come around my hips and I jump again, screaming.

“What is it?” he asks.

I point with a shaking figure at the photo. “Who’s that, in that picture?”

His hands grip me tighter. “My twin brother, Tim.”

I start to gather my clothes, tears forming in my eyes and my head a cloudy mix of conflicting emotions. All this time. If I had of known…

“Come on, Alice,” he pleads. “Tell me what’s wrong?”

“I can’t,” I stammer, hunting for my panties on the floor.

There are sounds outside, cars.

Storm pulls the curtain aside and looks through the window. “Shit.”

I scream again as the front door bursts open and shouts of “Police! Search warrant!” ring through the house.

I pull the sheet against myself again as police officers storm into the room with guns raised.

I almost drop the sheet in fright, Storm cold as ice behind me, slowly raising his hands as two officers move to handcuff him. He’s still naked, cock swinging between his legs.

“Dan?”

My cheeks burn as Dan enters from the back. “For god’s sake,” he says, “let him put some pants on.”

“Why, jealous?” Storm taunts.

“Take this scumbag away.”

One of the officers grabs jeans from a drawer and together with his friend they lead Storm out. He doesn’t make a fuss. He just goes calmly. It’s like he expected this all along.

Dan bends over and with the tip of his gun picks up my panties from the floor. He dangles them between us as more officers swarm in and start ripping the place up.

“How dare you!” I start, embarrassment turning to fury.

“Hey,” says Dan, letting the panties fall to the carpet, “I’m just doing my job. We had a tip your man here’s hiding a stash. It’s my job to follow that up.”

“You came looking for me, didn’t you?”

“Your parents rang, concerned. I said I’d look into it.”

“God.” I reach for a shirt, my jeans. “He hasn’t done anything wrong.”

Dan steps closer. “How do you know? You’ve been here all of a few days and you think you know what these Millertown kind are like? Let me tell you, you don’t know nothing.”

“Sherriff.” An officer’s holding a white baggie by the door.

Dan grins. “Bingo. Okay, boys. Wrap it up.”

The officers start to leave and Dan gives me one final look. “He’s no good for you, Alice. You deserve better. Remember that.”

I watch through the window as they load Storm into a patrol car, the whole spectacle wheeling away in a dusty procession.

My heart beats hard.
What the hell just happened?

*

You want to pay his bail, that low-life?

The deputy on the front desk doesn’t seem to get the idea.

“Yes, how much is it?”

He takes his time pulling up the records, fingers tapping on the desk. “Hmm, five large, little sis.”

I hand over a bag of bills, deducting the amount. “That should cover it.”

It’s practically all the savings I have. I still don’t know why I’m doing it.

The deputy eyes me with suspicion. “You sure about this?”

“Yes,” I conclude, not entirely confident.

“Your funeral,” and the deputy is off. He arrives with Storm a few minutes later.

Storm struts over, still without a shirt, feeling his wrists, which are ringed red from the cuffs. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Was it yours, the drugs?”

The looks past me when he answers.

“No.”

“Are you saying they planted it?”

“Yes.”

“What’s going to happen?”

He starts walking out of the station. “Not a damn thing, like always.”

“You can’t just let them get away with it?”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not right!”

He laughs. “Not right? Nothing’s right around here, Alice. Haven’t you figured that out yet?”

I stop. “Let me help. I can talk to Dan.”

‘Won’t do any good.”

“Please.”

“No, and what the hell happened before? With the picture?”

“Tim and I dated, in school. I freaked out. It’s just too weird.”

“You were there, weren’t you, when he died?”

“Yes.”

He rakes his hands through his hair. “This is too much to take in.”

“I know, but we can talk about it. I can help you. Let me.” I realize I’m pleading now.

He places his hand on my chest, holding me back. “No. Just let me go. It’s better this way, trust me.”

I do, helpless. I watch him walk down the road until he becomes a speck on the horizon.

The next day an envelope with $5000 in it arrives for me in the letterbox. There’s no questioning who it’s from.

Dad’s been on my case all morning. “You really shouldn’t go hanging around Millertown, baby girl. It’s just not safe.”

“It’s my job, Dad. Safe does not make for interesting reading.”

“I know it’s all exciting and fun in New York, but it’s different out here, love. People lead simple lives, harsh lives, and it’s been bad over there, real bad, for a long time. Who was that guy you were with, this Storm character, the drug dealer.”

I roll my eyes. “He’s not a drug dealer. He actually does a lot of…” but I let it go. It’s not worth it. I’m tired. I’m sore. I want to get back into bed and forget all about it.

There’s a knock on the door. Without thinking, I step up to answer it and come face to face with Dan.

I go to shut the door right in his face, but he holds it open. “I just want to talk.”

“I don’t have anything to say to you.”

“Look, I didn’t mean to barge in on you like that. I apologize.”

“Apology accepted. Now leave.”

He keeps holding the door open. “I just wanted to tell you, there’s been a development.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m afraid one of my men was paid off by the local MC crew looking to put heat on your boy. It was one of my own officers who planted that baggie, I’m sorry to say.”

He looks embarrassed.

Good.

“They confessed?”

“Not exactly, but we pieced it together. As such, and because I am an honest man, I’m afraid I owe you both a debt of apology. I’m headed over that way right now to put it right.”

“Well… that’s considerate of you.”

“Can I see you again, Alice? Please.”

“I don’t think that’s a very good idea.”

He smiles, and something crosses me. Maybe I’m wrong? “Well, that’s your decision and I will respect it, but if you ever change your mind.”

“Goodbye, Dan.”

“Goodbye, Alice.”

I close the door softly and Dad pretends to go back to his paper. “Great man, that sheriff.”

I roll my eyes again and swat his paper as I walk past. “Really, Dad?”

*

I meet Jemma for coffee at the diner.

“Three times in one night! Alice, you
are
a little slut. You’ve been holding out on me all this time.”

I hold the mug in two hands, blowing on the fiery bowl. “It wasn’t like that. He’s… different.”

She makes out the shape of a penis with her hands. “You mean he’s loaded, like this?”

I laugh. “He’s… a good size, yes.”

Jemma sits back, running her hands through her hair. “Wow. Amazing.”

“Don’t act like you had no part in this. I know you made sure he was at that concert.”

She shrugs. “I can neither confirm, nor deny, but I am enjoying these juicy details. I have to live vicariously through you now. No one’s going to want to touch a pregnant heifer.”

“You’re going to be even more beautiful with that baby bump, trust me.”

She prods her belly. “I just have no idea how two of them are going to fit in there, you know?”

“Or come out.”

“My poor vagina will be like an aircraft hangar after
that
.”

I almost spit my coffee out. “Jemma! They do have these things called Caesarians now, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah, but you’re avoiding the big issue. Are you going to see him again?”

“Who?”

“You know damn well who!”

I recall the way he walked away from the police station. “I don’t think he wants to see me. He’s being all ‘high and mighty, sacrifice myself’.

Jemma leans closer. “Hey, hey, I won’t have that attitude here. You really like this guy, huh, the mysterious brooding biker rocker boy?”

“You make him sound like a cardboard cut-out. He’s not a cliché.”

“No, could have fooled me, not that there’s anything wrong with that.”

“He’s Tim’s twin brother,” I blurt out.

Jemma’s face twists up. “What?”

“There was a photo of them together on his shelf. It was him. No doubt about it. He even said so.”

“Whoa. What are the chances?”

I’ve asked myself the same question. Here I am screwing my first love’s brother. What would Tim think if he was here? Maybe that was the attraction in the first place, that I see Tim in Storm.

Jemma places her hand on mine. “It’s crazy, but you can’t think like this. Tim’s been gone a long time now. You should move on.”

“With his brother?”

“Perhaps, if it’s right.”

“I just got out of one dangerous relationship and you want me to jump into another?”

“It’s very different and you know it.”

“It’s still dangerous.”

“I guess the question is then, is he worth it? Are you? Only you know the answer to that one.”

*

I find myself driving back to his place. I don’t know why. I’m a mess.

You just want to talk. That’s all.

Just like my first trip out to Millertown, the clouds close in overhead and the radio squeaks out warnings about coming storm cells and adverse weather. I turn it up, happy for anything to drown out the conflict that’s started up between my temples.

I find him in the garage, under a car, just like the first time, a complete sense of déjà vu pervading the whole strange scenario. What is it with this place?

“Can you pass me that spanner?” comes his voice from below.

“The what?”

The long one with the hook thing at the end.

I pick up something that vaguely matches the description and pass it under the car.

“That’ll do.”

He hits something hard three times, curses and slides out on his back, cleaning his hands with a rag.

I can’t take the silence. “Is this how you make a living, cleaning these cars up?”

He stands. “It’s more of a hobby, really.”

“How do you survive then? What do you do for a job?”

“Don’t have a job.”

I’m getting frustrated by his short answers. “What do you mean? I know that money came from you. Where did you get it?”

He opens a tool chest on the table and I see it’s stuffed with cash.

I take a step back, a pit of dread opening up in my stomach. “So, you
are
a drug dealer.”

He laughs. “Afraid not, as glamourous as Breaking Bad makes it out to be. I’m just good with money, the stock market. Numbers make sense to me. He tosses the spanner onto the table. A hell of a lot more sense than people.”

He sees my questioning face. “You don’t believe me?”

I don’t know what to believe.

He walks to the corner of the workshop and uses the rag to clean two frames on the wall. I walk closer. They’re college degrees.

“They’re yours?”

“That’s my name, isn’t it?”

It’s right there clear as day. I look at him with an increasing sense of wonder.

“Cummings? That’s your last name. Oh, that’s perfect.” I can’t help but laugh.

He’s actually smiling as he stands beside me. “Yeah, the old man preferred Black. Sounds a lot harder.

“But how, I mean, college…”

“Monica,” he fills me in. “Like I said, she helped me get through school, then college, helped me get this house back from the bank.”

“It’s you, isn’t it, the anonymous donor?”

He nods.

“And your dad’s dirty money?”

“Invested it years ago. Apart from what you see here it’s all safely tucked away in accounts only I have access to.”

“How much?”

“A lot.”

“But why don’t you move away? You could live anywhere, do anything.”

“But I choose to live here, and help these people,
my
people. They need me.”

“Millertown?”

“Yes.”

His altruism is almost too much, too perfect. “You’re full of surprises.”

He nods. “I won’t deny it, but not many people know about this, you hear. I’m making a special consideration for you simply out of the fact you’re drop dead gorgeous and I don’t know any better. You’re really screwing me up, you know? I trust you.”

I step towards him, snaking an arm around his neck, pulling myself closer to his heat, unable to resist him. “You think I’m gorgeous?”

He answers with a kiss, our mouths meeting.

We don’t make it to the bedroom.

He places me down in the middle of the kitchen and for a moment we just stare at each other, breathing deeply in the darkness.

The longing between my legs is so strong I cannot wait another second. I make the first move, looping my fingers into the straps of my dress and pulling them away.

My dress falls to the floor and puddles around my feet. I step out of it feeling powerful, sex incarnate as I pad towards him in my underwear.

We embrace. I’m caged in by his scent, the hot vapor of his breath sweet against my cheek as I draw in deep breaths. Things flitter and float around in my stomach, pangs of sensation running up and down my spine as his hand molds itself to a breast.

I hold his head in my hands and guide it down. I let him taste the beaded sweat that has broken out in the soft down that runs between my cleavage. He finds a nipple and draws it out until it’s a tight twig in his mouth, letting it snap back into place. His head rises and our tongues meet. I can taste my own perspiration on his lips. An intensity builds inside me greater than any I have known.

His hands dip to my buttocks, working under the thin cloth of my panties. He takes them in two hands and pulls them from my body, tearing them at the sides and letting them float to the floor in tatters.

You’ll have no panties left at this rate.

I hold my breath, shocked at this overt display of power but determined not to let him get the upper hand.

He doesn’t let me.

He lifts me under the bum. I wrap my legs around him as he staggers forward, letting me down on the corner of the kitchen bench as a glass rolls off to clank onto the floor.

My ass settles against the marble. He lays me flat with one hand spread on my breastbone, his tongue whipping around my chest, testing the resistance of my flesh.

I grip onto the sides of the bench, my nipples stiffening to fleshy diamonds in the semi-darkness.

It’s dim, but I can clearly make out Storm’s swollen hardness pressing against the front of his jeans. My lips quiver around his tongue moving deep inside my mouth.

All the while my head is warning me away.
This one’s trouble, Alice. Steer clear.

Wonderland – It’s what Jemma and I used to call Rosie, pretending the smokestacks of the mill were castle turrets and the statue in the middle of the town square was really a sorcerer waiting to be awakened from a century-old curse.

But now I realize, Wonderland has been right here. Storm is my escape.

I don’t care about the consequences, where he’s from or what my parents think.

In some ways I want to be bad. I need to live on the edge a little.

There’s the faintest tickle from the stubble on his chin as he moves down over the flat of my abdomen. He leaves wet rings with his lips until finally his tongue cleaves into my cunt and all I can do is convulse and thrash below him.

He runs his tongue up and down my slit, pulling my swollen clit into his mouth, licking and sucking at my juices. His tongue flickers, probing, seeking out pleasure I haven’t known since that fateful day with Tim.

It comes back to me, the memory too strong. A tear slides down my face as I bury my hands in his hair and pull, pressing my hips forward to meet his ravenous mouth.

Softly, he drifts away from my pussy and then returns, teasing me to near death. I sob and spasm, eventually forced to press his head away from me, his chin wet with my desire.

I push him back and slide off the bench, kneeling before him on the cold linoleum to undo his belt and buckle. I pull his pants and underwear down in a bundle to his knees. His cock flips out, much larger than I remember.

I hold the back of his legs, bring my head up and drop my mouth down upon the head of his penis. I’m surprised when his shaft twitches and tightens in my mouth. I pull my lips tight around it, sucking and then bobbing down deeper, taking him right into the tight confines of my throat until I’m forced to come up for air.

This is bad. This is naughty. This is nothing like the good girl I’ve been raised to be.

He moans with approval, hands on top of my head as my lips break from the flushed helmet of his cock with an audible
pop
. I make sure he knows I’m watching, eyes fixed to his as I run the tip of my tongue around his glans, licking away the alkaline substance that has gathered in his slit like a lost pearl.