First Ride (10 page)

There’s a soft hue to the wooden floor of the hallway at the top of the landing and I spot a little plastic bulb thing plugged in; some type of nightlight. The dim light casts funny shadows on the walls as I walk past. Sasha’s door is open and I see another light, identical to the one I just saw, plugged in near her bed. I peek in and watch her pink pajamas rise and fall as she breathes steadily, fast asleep.

Smiling to myself, glad she’s settled in, I close her door just a bit before working my arms out of my cut as I head to my own room. The door is shut, but I see a bright white outline around the edges, the light from inside peeking out.

My eyes adjust to the harshness of the bright bulbs once I enter, causing me to squint and do a double take when I find Angel sitting on the floor surrounded by stacks of paper.

“Hey. I’ll get this cleaned up.” Her fingers quickly go to work scooping up the rustling multicolored pages into thick handfuls.

“You always stay up this late?” I’m practically nocturnal myself, but I think most people still up this time of night are either getting wasted or screwing. Not doing paperwork.

Angel drops the collection of documents into a nearby box and closes the lid, pushing the square cardboard container deep into the open closet that’s hers by default.

“I’m not a big sleeper. Usually get stuff done while Sasha’s out like a light. Things I never get to do while she’s running around.” The closet’s closed, sealing up whatever she was working on.

Once the distraction of her project is finished, we both begin to feel the awkwardness of the situation. Might as well get it all over with. My cut’s left to hang on the doorknob to my own closet; it’s small compared to what’s now hers, but I don’t need much space.

Jeans, shirts, hoodies and my gun safe; that’s all I need room for.

I pull my shirt overhead, still smelling the remnants of the cigarettes in the cotton, and toss it over into the hamper bin. I can feel her eyes on me and I go out of my way to give her a little show, flexing and tensing muscles to emphasize my best parts as I undress and throw my jeans atop the pile.

“Everything quiet around here while I was out?” Stepping out of my boxers, I feel myself hang low while I search through the top bureau drawer for some clean sweats.

Her voice hitches as she begins to answer, catching an intended glimpse of my cock before it disappears beneath the soft material. “Uh—pretty much. Lana hung around for a bit. Then I took Sasha to get some ice cream after dinner. There’s a cute little place that let her make her own sundae. She made a mess.”

I know this town well, born and raised in Riverdale. I’m trying to place what ice cream joint she’s describing. “You talkin’ about the
Ice Box
? Over on Madison?”

The plush carpet spreads between my toes as I cross the room to the master bath, leaning in to do a quick brush and mouth rinse. I can hear her rustling behind me, see her fidgeting with the now-full dirty laundry basket, pushing the smoky clothes down to close the lid.

“I think that’s it. Small place. Kind of a high school hangout.” Next, she reaches into another box and withdraws a hairbrush, running it through her blonde waves a couple of times before climbing into bed.

I spit the minty flavored blue shit into the sink and kill the inside light. “That’s gotta be three miles away. Lana drive?”

“We went after Lana left. It’s a pretty walk. Lots of flowers along the way. I mean, I’d have driven but my car is kind of …
missing
at the moment.”

I arch my brow, laughing to myself. “It’s a hell of a lot more than missing. By now it’s a cube of scrap metal, smaller than a microwave. There’s a set of hooks inside the pantry door. Keys to the cars. You can use the Jeep.”

Pulling the bedspread down, the sheets make a crisp rustling sound and I see her jump from it.

“H—how does this work, exactly?” Her curious eyes watch as I begin to climb in, my body exhausted from a long, stressful day.

I prop up the pillow behind me, leaning against it. “A bed? Pretty sure you just lay on it. Some people actually sleep on it.”

Angel shifts on her feet nervously. “Smart ass. That’s not what I mean.”

Lifting my hand, I let it drop until it thuds against the tightly made bed on her side, signaling for her to take a load off. “It’s not like I got a handbook for this shit, Angel.” She climbs in carefully, taking a great deal of time getting comfortable as if it will somehow give us some time to find answers.

“Lana thinks I’m crazy,” she turns to me, lying on her side, her hair spilling out over the pillow. Her hands fold together and slip up under the plush pillow.

My voice strains as I stretch to reach over and turn the little dial on the bedside lamp, cocooning us in darkness. “There’s a healthy bit of crazy in all of us, Angel. If there wasn’t, life would be damn boring.”

I hear her hiss a bit as she tries to wriggle deeper under the covers for warmth.

“Come here,” I pull her into my side, rubbing the exposed, goosebump-sprinkled skin of her arm.

Her warm breath against my neck returns the favor, ridding me of whatever chill the late night brings with it.

“Something tells me your life is
anything
but boring.” I chuckle at her words. She has no idea.

Once the skin of her arm is smooth again, all traces of shivering gone, I mindlessly tickle my fingers up and down, lulling myself dangerously close to sleep as I listen to her breathing.

“I got some business to take care of tomorrow. Be gone most of the day. You and Baby will take care of things at the club.” I lay out my plans.

Her thigh shifts, covering part of my leg, lending to my own outbreak of goosebumps. My eyes are closed, lazily awaiting sleep, but I feel them roll back from the intimate caress of her leg on mine.

She yawns. “After I drop Sasha off with Trixie I’m gonna go visit my mom in the hospital. See if they’ve made any headway on the insurance.”

“Those the papers you were looking through when I got home?” I thought I saw some type of upside-down billing statement from where I was standing.

I can feel her head nod against my shoulder. “I think I’ve finally gotten a handle over it.”

Even though I’m bone tired, my dick seems to have a mind of its own. Every little movement she makes pressed up against me only serves to torture me. I try to take my mind off of it, knowing she’s got to be just as tired as I am. Plus, she’s gotta still be a little sore form last night.

“I got an insurance guy who handles stuff for the club. He can help.” Thinking of business right now might be just what I need to kill the hard-on that’s starting to pulse two inches from her knee.

She pulls away quickly. “You gotta stop this, Dawson. Really. I’m not completely incapable of handling my own shit, you know?”

“Never said you were.” I keep my voice calm and steady even though she’s getting agitated.

She breathes out in exasperation. “Then why are you trying to control
every
little thing? I’m not the kind of girl to just sit shotgun while someone else drives the bus.”

“Does it ever get old?” I ask, point blank.

I see her silhouette, her outline against the moonlight through the windows behind her. I can see her head shake, shrugging off the question. “Does
what
ever get old?”

“Trying so hard to prove you don’t need anyone.” I fire off.

She’s taken aback. “I
don’t
need anyone.”

“Really?” I pull her down, rolling to cover her, hovering just above. “You sure about that?”

She gulps hard enough for me to hear. “I—I don’t … need--”

Moving my body, I glide myself up and down, creating just the right amount of friction between our hips. My solid erection now delivers just the perfect amount of persuasion to illicit the answer I want, pressed tight against the cotton patch of material that veils her pussy.

I let my lips rest on hers as our bodies rock together, dry humping slowly, deliberately. I feel her mouth twitch, feel her take her lower lip between her teeth and bite to relieve some of the torment that’s building.

Her breathing quickens and her thighs squeeze my hips, urging them on.

“You sure you don’t
need
anything, Angel?” I thrust hard, rubbing
just
the right place at
just
the right angle to make her moan.

I feel the crotch of my sweatpants tightening over my growing bulge as I torture myself just as much as I do her. Her fingernails find my back, digging and biting into my flesh, giving an unspoken voice to the want mounting deep within her.

Her lips part, her neck arches, positioning herself perfectly to be taken in a deep kiss.

I don’t give it to her though.

“You want my lips, baby?” I thrust again and she whimpers, her body betraying her and revealing what she’s trying so hard to hide. “You want my cock?”

There’s a rush of air as the head of my fully elongated dick is now peeking through the waistband of my sleep pants, inching its way forward as I rub it against the outside of her pajama concealed clit with every push of my body over hers.

I know I’m right on top of my target by the way her breath catches every time I drive my hips forward.

She’s so close I feel her trembling. She nods her head frantically. That’s not good enough.

“Then you
tell
me you need it.” My terms are clear.

Three short little breaths hitch together. “I need it.”

Victory.

My lips crash into hers just in time to feel her moan deeply into my throat as she comes hard from the teenage-style teasing I’m inflicting on her pussy through the soaked cotton barrier.

Tender aftershocks rack her frame as I hold her tight, basking in triumph.

“You-- you play dirty,” she pants, catching her breath.

I laugh. “All the fucking time, Angel. But, I got you to admit that you actually need something.”

“Moment of weakness.” She tries to downplay the admission.

Using my thumb, I trace the bottom of her quivering lip. “One day. One day you’re gonna tell me you need me. I’ll play as dirty as I need to for that.”

“Is that what
you
need? To hear me say that?” Her voice returns to normal, the orgasm that made my dick jealous fades from her body.

Holding her tight, I roll over, pulling her with me until she’s straddling me. “I
need,
” I lick her lips, “to feel those sweet fucking lips on my cock, Angel. That’s the only thing I need right now.”

She seems to like the position of control, of being on top. Her hips begin to move in waves, sliding down my legs until she’s perched right above my groin, intentionally blowing cool air onto the very sensitive skin deep below my navel.

My eyelids flutter and I hiss through gritted teeth as she follows with the warm trailing of her hot tongue down further, shimmying my sweats down over my hips.

I feel my cock spring up, instantly freed, and she catches it in her waiting mouth. My toes curl under and I clench my ass muscles hard as I feel her glorious mouth take me in, inch by inch, and suck hard enough to make me lose my breath.

Fuck!

I lift my neck to see as best as I can when moves along my shaft, up and down the length. My hands plunge deep into her thick hair arranging the pile of waves to the side so that I get a glimpse of her shiny lips and teasing tongue while she fucks me with her mouth.

I don’t know what’s turning me on more; her tight little mouth holding on for dear life? Or the enthusiasm, the way she seems to enjoy it. I throw my head back, crashing into the pillow and raise my hips to meet her, gliding my dick deeper down her throat.

She doesn’t push my hands away as they find a way to control the rhythm, each wrapped in a tightly wound handle of blonde hair. Her hand works me just as well as her mouth does, twisting and rubbing the thick flesh as it enters and exits her scorching mouth.

My chest begins to feel tight, like I can’t seem to swallow enough air. I know that feeling. It’s a teasing little hint for what’s to come as my body begins to act on it’s own in a primal way.

Angel seems to pick up on the signs and works with me, sucking harder, moving faster, deeper, until there’s no deeper place to go. She holds herself still as I spill into her, claiming the one place I didn’t get to last night … her throat.

It seems like forever; lying frozen, unable to move, unable to breathe, as I wait for the wave of adrenaline to kick-start my lungs, gasping.

Holy mother of God
.

I swear I just died a little.

I find the energy to reach down and lift her up, pulling her to me, higher on the bed until she’s back in the little nook she fits so well. Between the two of us, we’re able to somehow coerce my sweats back over my hips.

“I knew Angel was the right name for you, baby.” I whisper out, exhausted.

Her chin nuzzles into my chest. “Yeah? Why’s that?”