Take Me Hard: Arizona Heat 3

by Douglas, Katie

  “Yes.” She looked at the floor like a slightly sullen teenager. I grabbed her chin and tipped her face to mine.

  “You’re not allowed to let yourself be taken advantage of. You’re not allowed to be sad, or scared, or hungry. If you don’t call when you need me, and I find out about it, I’ll put you over my knee and spank you so hard you won’t sit down for a month.”

  She caught her breath and I knew her will was slipping. She was wavering. I moved a little closer, knowing I shouldn’t. This was wrong. I had to let her go.

  Fire crackled between us. The air was charged with electricity like nothing I’d ever felt before. My skin felt too tight. She gazed up into my eyes, a beautiful, innocent doe. I might have pulled away, might have resisted, but her lips parted, and her little pink tongue darted out to wet them.

  I kissed her. My lips crushed hers, my tongue scraping against her teeth before I plundered her mouth and reminded her of everything she was leaving behind. I seized her hair, controlling her head, never letting her do anything I didn’t want her to do, and wishing there was some real-life way of making her mine.

  The kiss went on forever. She made little hm-hmm-hmmm noises in the back of her throat, and my cock was so hard I thought it might tear my jeans.

  When we broke apart, she looked up at me with tears in her eyes.

  “Please will you take me hard, one last time?”

  “No. I’ll never fuck you for the last time. You’re gonna be mine one day. ‘Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow...’ I forget the rest of the quote.”

  She laughed. “Casablanca.”

  “You don’t have to get on the plane.”

  “I’m already in the air. But I want to remember you.”

  The girl I was falling for was throwing herself at me. My dick ached to be inside her. But I couldn’t do this. No goodbye sex.

  No goodbye.

  I made the rules, and I decided she didn’t ever get to say goodbye to me.

  “You can remember me without us having sex.” Refusing her was the hardest thing I’d ever done. But I knew it was right. “Call me if you need anything and I’ll be over here like a shot. An eight-hours-away kind of shot, but still.”

  She looked crushed that I wouldn’t go there under these circumstances, but I couldn’t make this more complicated than it already was.

  “Next time I fuck you,” I told her, “you’ll be mine.”

  I kissed her on the forehead, a thousand times more chastely than I yearned, and walked back to my truck. I’d find another motel to spend the night before I made the long drive back to Snake Eye.

  * * *

  Kinsley

  He... he said no. And he left me here. What kind of a man says no to sex with a woman he’s attracted to? He’d have to be in a coma to not feel that chemistry sizzling between us. Yet, he’d gone.

  He’d left me by myself in a clean and tidy motel room in Los Angeles. Just like I’d wanted. I’d gotten to my destination and everything was falling into place. But I already felt like I’d made the biggest mistake of my life.

  No. I wouldn’t let myself do this. I had to move forward and make a life for myself. I couldn’t get distracted by a man. Not even the sort of man who made my knees weak and my panties drop at the sight of him. And we’d slept together. Of course, we had. I’d never really understood all that third-date nonsense. Truth be told, I wasn’t sure I’d ever actually dated. It all seemed so slow and old-fashioned. I hadn’t wanted to eat dinner with him in public. I’d wanted his cock stuffed deep in my pussy and...

  Oh boy, I needed to do something about this.

  Did that thing about taking a cold shower work?

  I bolted the door and began undressing, because right now I needed to clear my mind. I took my hair down and let it tumble past my shoulders. I ached for him. This wasn’t going to help me concentrate and I needed to search for auditions as soon as possible.

  Once I was unclothed, I turned on the shower. The first droplets of water touched the bottom of the tub and I took a deep breath, stepping in quickly before I changed my mind.

  The cold water doused me with a sudden shock of sensation. Jets of spray stung against my nipples. My pussy throbbed.

  The cold shower only served to heighten my arousal, and it made me realize I was never going to be happy without him. I was a submissive. I was his submissive. And I needed him to tear me to pieces then put me back together again.

  Desire turned to frustration and regret. I turned the water off, sat in the bottom of the tub and cried. Why couldn’t life be simple?

  * * *

  Kinsley

  I knew I didn’t really stand a chance at getting cast in some high-concept indie drama, but seriously, what sort of acting did anyone need to get a job in a commercial? Most of those people just had to eat candy or clutch their stomach while a narrator listed the side effects of Lyme Disease tablets, or whatever.

  Yet, all the ads I saw online wanted a résume, a Z-card (whatever that was), a union card and some sort of experience.

  The thing that really surprised me was the amount of ads demanding basically classical Shakespearean-level training to even audition for a thirty second commercial or to get a walk-on part.

  And the physical requirements were unexpected, too. No dyed hair. Natural blondes only. No HD brows. No short hair. No hair extensions. No tattoos.

  “Acting is a harsher master than Clay ever was,” I mused, feeling like the whole industry demanded total submission, humiliation, and that I subject myself to scrutiny of every detail of my existence just to be considered for a part. And I had to do it all with a smile on my face and asking no questions at all.

  Did I have it in me to submit to random casting directors like this? I’d never realized acting would be this way.

  I found an audition ad which I fit. Someone wanted a brunette woman aged 18-24 with good hair for a shampoo commercial. I could do that. Open casting was today at nine a.m., so I scribbled down the address and set off to make sense of the public transportation system.

  * * *

  Kinsley

  I arrived at 8:45, thinking I’d be in good time to make a positive first impression, and I walked to the building. I stopped dead when I saw the line. It came all the way out of the door and down the street.

  “Excuse me,” I asked someone at the door.

  “Back of the line, some of us have been here since five,” the woman said, pointing at the bastion of people behind her.

  All these people were here for a shampoo commercial? This was crazy! Why were so many people here? As I walked down the line, I was more surprised about how many of them didn’t even fit the part. Some of them weren’t brunette, or were clearly too old, or in the case of a couple of probably-twelve-year-olds, too young.

  Was I the only person who had thought about whether I was right for the part? And now I had to wait behind them all? How long would it take for the casting director to get through everyone here? I wished I’d brought some food. Or water. The day began to heat up and I wondered if sunburn would affect my chances of getting picked.

  As hours passed, I felt drained, hot and irritable. I wouldn’t have to wait so long if everyone had read the ad correctly. And surely the casting director could just come out, walk down the line and send people home who were obviously not suitable, to save everyone’s time? Nothing about this situation made any sense to me and I was tired.

  By two p.m., I was almost at the door. I’d been fantasizing about getting indoors and in the shade when a huge guy came out, pushed the woman in front of me straight out of the door, and closed the door.

  “Fucksake,” she grumbled.

  “What, that’s it?” I asked, staring at the door.

  “You new? Yeah, that’s it. They won’t see anyone outside the door. We got here too late.”

  I felt so deflated. After waiting so many hours, I couldn’t stand the idea of just leaving.

  “What do we do now?” I asked.

>   “Find another line to stand in, tomorrow.” She shrugged and walked off. The crowd behind me were dissipating, too, and I sighed from the bottom of my shoes.

  This hadn’t turned out at all the way I’d planned.

  Clay texted me that evening.

  Back on Lemon Tree Ranch. Things going well?

  I didn’t want to disappoint him or admit that this had been a ridiculous day, so I kept my tone bright and cheery.

  Great. Auditioned for a hair commercial today. Well, it was almost the truth. I’d showed up for the audition. It wasn’t my fault I hadn’t actually gotten inside the building. I went to the nearest McDonald’s and ordered a cold salad with the biggest soft drink they had. My head ached from being out in the sun and it was hard to think straight.

  Back at the motel, I searched far and wide on the internet to find any auditions that I was a good fit for. It was difficult because some of them required travel, and I didn’t have a car, while others required skills I’d never even heard of.

  What, exactly, was parkour?

  A few hours later I was starting to feel a little disheartened. There were no shortage of opportunities, but I didn’t fit most of them. A lot of them only wanted actors in the Screen Actors Guild, but when I checked how to get the membership, it said I had to be employed already.

  My mind boggled at how to navigate this minefield. I just wanted to act. Why was it all so complicated?

  And how long would it be before the next opportunity came up?

  I went to bed feeling like I’d let myself down. If I’d just gotten to the hair audition earlier, I would have been inside the building when they sent everyone else home.

  What if that was my only chance to land a role? This industry seemed so fickle and unpredictable, and I’d only been here a day.

  * * *

  Kinsley

  By the third day, I got a part as a walk on in a movie needing so many background actors that they didn’t ask any questions. I’d never heard of any of the lead actors which was fine because this was my first real acting job. My day began at five a.m. and I was rushed through simple hair and makeup while I was still putting on the cheap dress I’d brought with me.

  It was a nightclub scene. Standing in a bar so early in the morning felt surreal, especially when a props guy handed me a glass of what was supposed to be some kind of cocktail.

  The director glanced over us all and pointed, picking people at random.

  “Everyone I’ve chosen, go to the back of the room,” he said.

  “He was clearly pointing to me,” the girl beside me said, grabbing my arm when I began moving. Shocked, I let her go past me, and I stood in the crowd not sure where I was supposed to be. Should I have argued the point? I didn’t want to be disagreeable but I was almost certain he’d chosen me.

  I pressed my lips together and said nothing. No one around seemed to have even noticed what had happened.

  As the day went on, however, the group that got hand-picked in the morning got all the screen time, at the front of every shot, while the rest of us were simply standing around and talking. I got bored listening to the man beside me droning on about every cactus he ever owned. And worst of all, I didn’t feel like I was acting.

  By nine p.m., I’d been on my feet for sixteen hours. I was ready for the payment at the end of the day. We stood in line and each got a small brown envelope. I opened it and peered inside.

  After all that work and effort, all I had was a twenty-dollar bill. I should have checked what this job paid before I took it, but I’d been so set on finally finding a job that accepted unqualified, inexperienced actors that I hadn’t even thought about it. Per hour, I was pretty sure I’d make more money getting a fast food job. The money I’d been paid wouldn’t cover my travel and dinner, even if I only went to McDonald’s again.

  Back at my motel room, I flopped on the bed and eyed the cheap ceiling tiles. This wasn’t what I’d expected at all, and after years of waiting for this moment, the disappointment was bitter.

  I took the next day away from searching for acting jobs because I couldn’t stand another day like that one. I felt out of sorts and irritable with the whole world, so I took a long walk on Venice Beach trying to get my thoughts in order.

  It all came down to one truth. This wasn’t what I wanted. I was miserable after just one day of acting, and I didn’t think I had the patience with that whole crazy industry to keep trying to break in.

  More than that, though, there was something else in my heart, now. It had grown until it supplanted my desire to be an actress, and it was the only thing I cared about. Clay.

  I sat down on some concrete and got out my phone. After staring at the black screen for several minutes, trying to figure out what to say, I finally decided to just send a message.

  Can you come get me, please? I want to come back—if you’ll still have me.

  I bit my lip and sent it, my stomach flip-flopping fearfully while I waited for a reply. It came about thirty seconds later.

  Sure. I’ll be there tonight. Everything okay?

  Warmth filled my body and suddenly I began to cry. No one paid any attention. Maybe it wasn’t so unusual, in a city where everyone was trying to be something other than what they were. I was just so relieved that Clay still wanted me.

  * * *

  Clay

  It didn’t take Kinsley as long as I thought to decide she was done with Los Angeles. When I got her message, I wasn’t surprised, although I didn’t relish another eight-hour drive along a desert road.

  “Barrett, can you and Jake handle things here until tomorrow?” I asked. I knew we were already short-handed without Lawson, and I didn’t want to just abandon the ranch but Kinsley was my priority.

  “Sure thing, boss. You got girl trouble?” Barrett’s tone was teasing. I playfully punched him in the arm.

  “I got a girl. That’s enough trouble for me,” I replied. “Sorry to bail, but Kinsley’s coming home.”

  “Not sure why you let her go in the first place.”

  “Some people don’t kidnap women when they find them attractive,” I retorted, teasing him about the way he’d made Harper stay on the ranch after he first met her, until Lawson and I set him straight about how to treat a woman. He was such a caveman, sometimes, I had no idea why Harper had stayed around, but she clearly saw something in him that I didn’t.

  “I never kidnapped Harper. She got herself stuck here by parking her van where she couldn’t get it back onto the road.”

  “I didn’t see you lining up to tow her van that day,” I chuckled.

  “That’s the truth.”

  I finished up my share of the work we were doing, and immediately got into my truck, setting off for California again.

  * * *

  Clay

  I reached Kinsley’s motel very late at night, but there was still a light on in her room. I guessed she was waiting up for me. Careful not to wake anyone else, I tapped quietly on the door.

  She opened it and pulled me inside. After hiding her face to fumble with the deadbolt, she turned and I saw her. My heart leaped at the familiar sight of my girl, but my joy was cut short. It was obvious she’d been crying.

  “I couldn’t do it. It’s not going to work,” she sniffled, throwing herself at me and wrapping her arms around my waist while she buried her face in my chest.

  “What happened? Tell me everything,” I murmured, hating to see her cry.

  A mass of information poured out of her as she related what had happened at the hair commercial and the movie set. Listening, I felt so sad for her, because she’d been confronted with the reality of something she thought she wanted, and it hadn’t matched up to her expectations.

  “Don’t think about that, none, for tonight. It’s been a long drive so I can’t take you back until tomorrow, but we’re gonna get into bed and I’ll hold you. You’re not alone, Kinsley, and I hope you see that, soon.”

  She squeezed her arms tighter around me and
I knew she was finally ready to let me into her heart. True to my word, I took her to bed and just lay there, with my arms wrapped around her, feeling her shoulders raise and fall as I drifted off to sleep.

  In the morning, I didn’t want to move. She was so beautiful, laying in my arms with her chestnut hair spread out between us. Watching her sleep was peaceful, although I missed seeing her pretty eyes and hearing her voice.

  My cock was getting hard but I didn’t want to disturb her. I was doing just fine at ignoring the pressure in my balls, until she stirred slightly and wiggled her ass against me.

  My hands moved to her breasts of their own accord, finding the nipples through the thin T-shirt she wore. She sighed quietly, and then I was undone.

  “Please fuck me,” she breathed, but she didn’t need to. I took one hand off her breast and stretched like a contortionist to reach a condom on the nightstand. Ripped it open, slid it onto my shaft. I lined up my cock, dimly noticing she wasn’t wearing any panties. My fingers found liquid; she was wet for me already. I thrust in, and she let out a guttural moan of deep satisfaction.

  I gripped her breasts harder, squeezing them through her T-shirt, and fucked her sideways. She ground backwards against me, taking me deeper.

  “You’re mine,” I growled. “Forever. You’re coming back to my ranch and I’m never letting you go.”

  Her pussy spasmed around my aching cock, squeezing it almost to the point of pain. I fucked her harder. She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t have to. I knew what she wanted.

  Her body stiffened and her fingers tangled in the bedsheet as she pushed herself against me. She cried out, while my fingers stroked the hard nubs of her nipples which poked against the thin T-shirt. Her pussy clamped down harder, dragging me over the edge with her, and suddenly we were both coming, bound together in the one moment while our souls demanded we never separate.

  * * *

  Clay

  After sex, there was breakfast. We packed Kinsley’s meager belongings and took them with us, so we didn’t need to return. The motel’s offering was in a greasy dining area that looked like it had been built in the seventies to look like a country kitchen, but instead it just looked dated with cheap plywood veneer glued everywhere and a vinyl floor covering to match.