Wrangler (9 page)

“Nice roses.”  I back out of the door and move toward the front of the truck, stepping backwards so I can keep my eyes on her face.

Her plump lips curve upward and I imagine for the millionth time since I set eyes on her what they would feel like around my cock.  They are soft and natural with a little shine that makes me desperate to taste them.

I want to do things to her I’ve never thought about before.  This little dove on the side of the road with a question in her eye and her defenses up has awakened the beast in me.

“Yeah, some weird customer at work gave them to me.  Must have been a mistake I think.”  She kicks at the dirt with her cute as hell baby-blue shoe and chews the inside of her cheek, my cock ready to tear through my jeans.

My mind is filled with thoughts of her flavor and how wet she will be when I make her cum with my mouth the first time. I have to shake my head to get back into the moment. 

With a heavy sigh, I march around to the front of the truck, reach under the edge of the hood and unlatch it, raising the faded red steel and setting the prop-bar in place to hold it high.

“Nope.  It was no mistake.”  I catch her eye, then look down at the engine.  I see the problem immediately and it’s an easy fix.

Fate brought me to that bar tonight and it’s fate that’s given me another shot at redemption by putting her here, walking down the side of a dirt road in the middle of the night.  I don’t need a brick to the head, so she’s not slipping away again.  She’s making me hurt down into my bones, a desire like I’ve never felt before hums inside of me and I know better than to let this opportunity go.

I step to Roger’s window, speaking to him with my voice low, then walk around to the back of the Rover where I open the back window. A second later I’ve got his tool box in hand and I slap the back of the car as I walk back her way.

Without another word, Roger backs up, turns around in the road and pulls down into the dark.

“Where’s he going?”  Dove sounds scared.

“I see what’s wrong but it’s going to take a little bit to fix it.” I look back over my shoulder. “He had someplace to be.”  I say a quick prayer for the lie to be forgiven.  “We’ll be fine, I’ll get you up and running here.”

I set the toolbox down into the gravel at the front of the truck, flip it open and play around inside until I find a flashlight and a wrench.  The wrench is just a prop, but the flashlight I click on so I can keep an eye on her.  I want to see every blink of her eyes, every twitch of her cheek, every time that dimple appears.

“But, how will you get home?”  She scans the road up and down rubbing her lips together, reaching into her purse on the seat inside the truck.  She brings a ChapStick to her lips and rubs it around and around, and I swear I almost lose my mind. 

Then, like she has no fucking idea what she’s doing to me, she looks at me like nothing is going on here.

I shrug.  I no longer know how to form words into sentences, so I just smile at her.

I lean my shoulders and head under the hood.  Her alternator cap is loose, nothing more serious than that, I don’t need a tool to fix it, but I pretend I’m fiddling around and knock the wrench against a few things for effect while I try to calm my heart from smacking around inside my chest. 

Each time her feet move along the dirt, I take note and I knock around under the hood for another minute debating my next move.  The only words going through my head right now are
don’t fuck up.  Do. Not. Fuck. This. Up. 

“Hop in, try it now.”  I poke my head to the side and she climbs in behind the wheel.  She seems to shine with a light of her own. I’ve never seen anything so perfect and I want to throw her over my shoulder right now.  She may kick and scream a bit, but I don’t give a shit.  She may not understand yet who she belongs to, but she will very soon.

“Okay.”  She turns the ignition and sure enough it starts right up, but I’m not letting her go.

“Shut it down, I see something else,” I lie, again, hoping Jesus understands. 

I wipe my hands on my pants even though I’ve done nothing to get them dirty. 

With an exaggerated show, I shift back from the front of the truck, stand straight and come around to the open driver’s door.  She’s sitting there side saddle, her feet hanging out the open door, hands folded in the soft fabric of her skirt.

“What’s wrong?” I see the sparkle in her eyes and the hint of a smile that ignites her dimple and drops of cum soak a spot in my boxers.

“Not one thing.”  I reach in and capture her hand from her lap, feeling the warmth of her skin between my fingers as I entwine mine with hers.

“What are you doing?” 

“Holding your hand.”

She gives me that mouse-ready-to-bolt look again but she doesn’t pull away.

I continue. “It was no mistake.”  I look over her shoulder toward the roses.  “Those are all for you.”

“But I thought you were there with a date.  So, that’s kind of a dick move to give me more flowers than your girlfriend.”

I look down, fighting my chuckle.  The muscles in my back are tight just trying to keep me from launching forward and covering her with my body.

She’s digging for information and it sits just fine with me.  The thing I notice is she hasn’t said anything about a boyfriend or a husband wondering why she’s coming home with a basket full of roses.

“No date, Dove.  Those were friends of Roger’s.”  I gesture with my head toward where the Rover disappeared a minute ago.  “I’m as single as they come.  Haven’t even been on a date in longer than I can remember.  Guess I was waiting for the right girl to come along.”

“Why do you keep calling me that?
Dove
.”  I pull her hand toward me, examining it in the moonlight, coaxing her to lean forward.

What is it about her that lights my fuse like this?  Every time I meet her eyes it’s like a current zaps me.

“Because.  You remind me of a dove.  Pure and innocent with a look in her eye like she wants to fly away somewhere.”

She pulls her knees together as my thumb rubs back and forth on the side of her hand.  I give her a little tug, grabbing her attention and holding it with my eyes.

“Your name tag at the bar said ‘Lori,’ but you don’t look like a ‘Lori’ to me, you look like a dove.”

“Rachel.”  She blurts it out.  “Lori’s a fake name. I don’t like using my real name there.”

“Well,
Dove
.” I emphasize the word, because it means so much more already than a simple white bird.  It takes on a life of its own.  “I can get your truck going here, but I’m wondering if you plan to thank me for the roses
and
for fixing it.”  My voice is playful, but I need things from her and I want her to need them from me too.

Her eyes go wide and my gentle tug on her hand becomes a pull.  She slips down off the seat giving in to me and my entire body comes alive.

Her feet hit the ground in front of me and I want to hold onto this moment.  She is all woman, her tits bountiful. That top is cut too low and then some, but there’s no better view in all the world.

“Thank you?”  She mutters, unsure, and I like that she’s unsure.

I grin. “Hmm.”  I snap my lips together.  “Not quite sure that’s good enough.” I lead her along behind me to the back of the truck.  I’m in heat and she’s giving me a wide-eyed, innocent look, but I see that twinkle in her eye, and the fuse she lit is burning down fast.

“Well, maybe that’s all I have.”

“Oh no, Dove, that is not all you have.”  The beast she’s awakened comes roaring to life, but I choke him back. 

I am teetering between the urge to throw her down in the dirt and take what’s mine with all the fury of a caveman, and the civilized part of me that wants break her in gently.  She’s a fragile bird, I feel that, but this moment has once in a lifetime written all over it.

“I have a boyfriend.”  She blasts me with both barrels with a direct hit to my heart.  But, just as quickly, my sixth sense kicks in, and I hear the slightest hesitation in her voice. 

She’s lying.

My steps toward the dark rear of the truck stay even and steady with her soft steps behind me. I took note of the feed sacks stacked two high and I’m a country boy. That is going to make a comfortable place for me to lay her back while I decide just how far this is going to go.  My instincts tell me I need to give her just a taste, not push too hard, no matter how much my dick would like to argue his case and go for the home run.

“What’s his name?”  I take my free hand and unhitch the tailgate, settling it down before turning toward her. And for the first time since I got home I take off my ball cap, set it down on the open gate and rake my hand through my shoulder length hair. I only wish I was more presentable.

For her.

Her mouth is agape as I push back the hair that keeps falling forward, my other hand still bound to hers.

“Jimmy,” she mutters, but it sounds more like a question than an answer. “His name’s Jimmy.”

“Uh huh.  Well, Jimmy’s a fool for leaving you at that bar all alone.  If you were my girlfriend, I’d never let you out of my sight at a place like that.  And I sure as shit wouldn’t let you drive home alone.  He doesn’t sound like he knows what he’s got.”

I look down to drink her in, the moonlight highlighting just the right spots and I see her tuck her toes together.  I love that shy, little girl air about her.  It’s not a game either, it’s her and she’s digging farther and farther into me with each moment.

She tugs her lips to the side as I stare down her little white lie.  She’s lost her smile and I hate that, so I give her an out.

“There’s no Jimmy.  You and I both know it, so I’ll let that one go.  Don’t lie to me again.” 

“You’re awfully bossy.  Who says there will be an ‘again?’” 

“I do. I say.”  My eyes don’t let hers go for a second.  “Just setting the ground rules so in the future you won’t make the same mistake.”  I’m as sure we have a future as I am that gravity will hold my feet in place. 

My lips turn up as a spark of sass lights those doe brown eyes.

“You say?  Were you dropped on your head as a child?  I don’t even know your name and you’re talking about a future?”  She can’t fight the smile that simmers then explodes in the cool late summer night. 

Her dimple is on full display, making my balls quiver like a scared little girl. But no way. If anyone is cumming tonight, it’s her.  My greedy ass dick will have to cool his heels; this filly is always going to come first. 

“I know I served you ice water all night, but maybe you sipped on your grandad’s jar of white lightnin’ when I wasn’t looking.”

I may be jumping the gun, I get it.  What I know about her could fit inside a thimble. I know her first name, I’ve managed to hold her hand, get my fingers on the softest skin I’ve ever felt, but even with so little, it’s so much.  I’ve gone from a man who hasn’t given a woman a righteous second glance for far too long, to one that takes a leap from holding a hand to thoughts of carrying her over the threshold and a desire to secure her in my life by any means necessary.

I lower both hands to entwine our fingers.  The way her soft skin contrasts with my calloused hands is beautiful.

“I did feel drunk back there, I’ll admit that.  And I was drinking something. Only I was using my eyes not my mouth.”

As soon as the words leave my lips, my chest constricts at the thought of my mouth between her legs, drinking her, and I have to swallow hard and let go of her hand.

I drop our hands, grip her waist and feel her press her back toward the open tailgate at my touch. “One, two, three, okay?”

“What?”  She crinkles her nose when she says it and I like how she doesn’t know what to do with her hands, but she’s also not pushing mine away.

I nod at the open truck bed and secure my fingers at the nip of her waist. 

“Ready?  On three.”  I nod, dig my fingers into the softness. Her eyes are on mine, looking like the most delicious melted chocolate.  “One, two, three.”

She gives this little bunny hop and it makes her as light as a Saturday evening breeze. It takes no effort to lift her, and a moment later I’ve got her where I need her, facing me, ready to lay her back and show her just how I intend to worship her.

She goes to adjust herself, scooting back and tugging at the hem of the soft fabric of her skirt and I move in, pressing my body between her knees.

“There.”  I lick my lips trying not to drool. “Now, have you decided how to thank me?” 

I can’t help it, my fingers toy with a stray hair that dangles over her forehead.  An intensity is growing inside of me that could quickly turn dangerous.  I want her in a way that scares me, like I didn’t even know what wanting was before, and I don’t know anything about her, but I intend to have it all.

“Thank you.  I said thank you.  Do you want some money?”  The words come out in a whisper, like she’s not quite sure what’s about to happen.  Her eyes teeter between twinkling excitement and more than a healthy hint of fear.

“No.  I don’t want money, Dove.”  I inch forward, spreading her legs with my hips, and I fucking swear I catch the scent of her pussy on the air and I just about lose my mind.

I want to flip her skirt up and see what’s under there.  I’m hoping soft cotton, white maybe with the day of the week embroidered on them.  She’s not a thong girl, and that’s only right.  Something about her makes me want her to be innocent so I’ll be the first to be here.

Only me. But a beauty like this, she’s surely had dicks after her for a long time. I’m sure one of them has been where I want to be right now and just the thought has my jaw tight. 

“I...I have some tip money I could give—” I cut her off when I settle my hands above each knee, gripping the softness there. 

“I told you, I don’t want your money.  I want your thanks.  Those are very different things.”

“I don’t know—” Her eyelids flutter shut as I press my hands a bit farther up her thighs, my fingers finding the skin just under the hem of her skirt. The warmth is radiating straight onto the erection pushing for dear life against my zipper.  “I shouldn’t...I mean...I don’t even know...”