The Jezebel

by Dylan Allen

  Bailey leans forward bypassing her mother’s glare and looks at me.

  “I’m gay. Eric is, too. We had a baby together because we’re just friends. I’m sorry my mother accosted you. She’s going to leave you alone, now.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m used to it. Congratulations on the baby.” I smile with empathy. Then, I pop my earbuds in. If it’s rude. Oh well, these people are giving me a damn headache.

  Traffic slows to a crawl as we approach San Lucas and my eyes drift closed.

  I’m roused by the squeaking of brakes and the jostling of the vehicle moving off the main road “I thought this was a direct shuttle.” I say to the driver.

  He laughs boisterously. “Direct shuttle doesn’t exist, and we always stop for the ladies,” he says and waggles his eyebrows at me through the rearview mirror.

  I glance toward the stop. Two women stand one facing us, the other with her back turned. The sea breeze pulls the floral-patterned sundress she’s wearing snug and I can’t help but notice the very nice ass she’s sporting. I give her an appreciative once over. She’s wearing a huge hat on top of a long dark, curling mane of hair that moves with the wind. I get a flash of Deja vu. But it’s gone as quickly as it came and next to me Carol fidgets. “It’s full already,”

  I’m glad she said it so I’m not the one who sounds like an asshole. The driver ignores her.

  He flings the door open and jogs down the short staircase. “Buenos noches, Señoritas. You were told about our occupancy issue, correct?” His voice is booming, and theatrical.

  “Yes, we know. It’s fine,” one of the women responds in a much more subdued tone. I pick up a hint of a French accent in her English.

  He claps and jogs back up the upstairs, calling to the women over his shoulder, “Thenclimb aboard and pick a lap. You will find several willing. Am I right?” The four men on board, including the previously mute Eric, all give their fervent agreement. His chuckle is diabolical as he takes his seat again.

  I’m glad they’re so eager.

  The last thing I need is to have a sweaty stranger’s ass on my lap. No matter how nice it looks in her very pretty sundress.

  The odds of escape aren’t in my favor.

  I’m the biggest man on the cart, and closest to the door. One of them could sit down before the four eager beavers even get to make their offer.

  Recoiling in dread, I pull my hat down over my eyes and slump in my seat as they climb up the short staircase. I hold my breath and pray they walk past me.

  “Thank you for stopping,” the other woman, who’s accent is one of those that is free of identifying inflections. Not Southern, not east coast, not cali, not midwest. Just… perfect diction. The likes of which I’ve only encountered once before.

  My heart skips a beat, and everything freezes.

  I haven’t heard it in fifteen years, but I know, as sure as I breathe that voice belongs to Regan Wilde.

  And there’s no way in hell she’s sitting on anyone’s lap but mine. I straighten lift my cap up and put an arm out to stop her just as she’s about to pass me. “You can sit with me.” I use my arm as a barrier that keeps her from going any further.

  I peer at her from under the rim of my hat, her full lips her flat, but with her eyes obscured by her sunglasses, it’s impossible to tell what she’s thinking.

  Until she huffs in annoyance and turns toward the driver. Her husky voice, pained voice full of dismay. “The dispatch said one of us would have to sit on each other’s lap. Not a total stranger’s.”

  “No offense,” she adds with an apologetic smile in our general direction. “Could you send another shuttle for us? We’ll wait. We don’t want to inconvenience you all. ”

  “This is the last shuttle. You can get you a taxi,” the driver says.

  The seconds that pass before she answers feel like hours. I hold my breath and try to decide what I’ll do if she gets off. I think I’ll get off, too.

  Her friend groans, behind her. “Oh, come on, Reggie. It’s fine, it’s late and we’re all going to the same place. I’m exhausted and I don’t want to try to find a cab right now.”

  Regan bites her lip and looks around the shuttle.

  She glances back out at the street and then sighs in resignation. “Fine.” She draws her back and turns to face me. “Thank you for offering your lap. It’s very kind,” she says with all the dignity of a duchess.

  “No problem. Make yourself comfortable.” I pitch my voice an octave lower than my normal baritone. I don’t know why I’m disguising it. It’s not like she’s heard my voice before. At least, not this version of it.

  The brush of fabric against my bare knees and a muffled curse are the only warning I have before a body with distinctly soft feminine swells lands in my lap

  My hands instinctively come up to grab her hips. The force of her fall pushes me back into my seat. Her thick cascade of hair covers my face like a pillow. I’m assailed by the smell of lemon and ginger scones and the memories this smell is attached to - our bakery in Rivers Wilde.

  Nostalgia hits with a one-two punch to my gut and my groin.

  My heart starts to race, and it takes all my willpower to stop myself from grasping her by that cute chin of hers and forcing her face around to tell her who I am.

  Her back is pressed to my chest, her ass to my groin and her soft thighs rest against the hard muscles of mine

  “Is everyone okay? Can I get back on the road?” The driver calls.

  “Everything is great.” This jovial declaration comes from the man directly across from us, who is providing a seat to her friend.

  “Which building on the resort, please?” the driver asks.

  “We’re going to the main hall,” Regan answers.

  “Your wish is my command,” the driver says. He closes the doors and the overhead lights go off, plunging us into semi-darkness as the shuttle eases back into traffic.

  “I’m so sorry for landing on you like that, I’m not used to wearing flat shoes and I’ve been tripping since I put these on,” she says.

  “It’s okay,” I say but it comes out like a groan because I can feel my body starting to respond to hers. I shift my hips back to hide my hardening dick but find that I’m as far back as the seat will allow.

  She shimmies and mutters to herself, starts to lift her leg and stops suddenly, groaning under her breath.

  “Is everything okay?” I ask.

  “Yes. God, this is ridiculous,” she mutters, without turning back to look at me. She rests one hand on the small plexiglass shield between the driver and us. The thin gold band on her ring finger draws my eye.

  “My ankle bracelet is caught on the lace of your shoes.”

  She bends over, pushing her soft ass even deeper into my groin and my dick does the unforgivable and starts to get hard. She’s moving back and forth, and even though I know she doesn’t mean to, it’s like giving me a lap dance.

  Her fingers flex on the plexiglass, and I imagine that hand on my headboard, her hair pushed aside so I can see her back while I drive into her soft, wet, heat. Lemon must be an aphrodisiac. It has to be. I’ve got more self-control than this.“Almost… got it…” she croons shifts her weight back.

  I push my hips far back as they’ll go, but I can’t do anything to stop her from feeling the heavy hard length between my thighs.

  She stiffens and I stop breathing, braced for her to turn around and slap me.

  I lean in to speak close to her ear to avoid the possibility of anyone hearing me. “It’ll go away if you stop moving,”

  Then, to my mortification, I realize I’m still holding her hips in a tight grasp, essentially holding her in place. I let go, abruptly. But instead of sitting still or moving away, she rolls hips

  My sharp exhale of breath disturbs a lock of her dark loosely spiraling hair on her shoulder and a shiver, subtle and short, runs through her.

  I glance at Carol. She’s turned away, talking to her husband.

  I lo
ok back at the unexpected seductress on my lap and then roll my hips up, just slightly, too. I move my hand slowly inch by inch until it’s back on her hip and dig my thumb into the soft flesh there.

  Her body relaxes against me and she moves her hips in a seductive circle that brings the head of my dick in contact with her pliant but stiff clit. But for the subtle rocking of her pelvis she doesn’t move.

  I don’t either. I close my eyes, let my head loll back to the window while the gently swaying vehicle sets a slow rhythm.

  “So, where are you from, dear?” Carol asks and I freeze.

  But Regan doesn’t. “Texas,” she says, her voice a little breathless but otherwise, normal.

  “Oh, that’s nice. We’re from Oklahoma. We come here every year. It’s gorgeous, but you have to be careful in that surf. If you get too far in…” Carol warns in a grave voice.

  “You mean, at the resort?” Regan asks in a voice that is slightly breathless but otherwise normal.

  “Yes, dear, we heard the most awful story on our first day here…” Carol starts to drone on.

  I ease a hand off Regan’s hip to tap my AirPods on. Just My Imagination by the Temptations starts to play. I chuckle to myself. She used to sing this all the time. In fact, I only know this song because of her. It’s almost enough to make me believe in fate again.

  I grip her hip again and squeeze the supple flesh hard.

  Maybe it’s because I’m living one of my many teenage wet dreams, but she feels damn incredible. My palms itch to slide up and cup her breast. I imagine her nipples hardening against them. I wonder if they’re hard already. If she likes them pinched or sucked. If they’re pierced.

  I tighten my hold on her hip to stop myself from throwing caution into the wind to find out.

  She reaches up to pull her hair over one shoulder, exposing the side of her neck and her shoulder. I want to sink my teeth into that smooth fragrant skin and suck.

  Her thighs spread, making just enough room for me to sink into the plush heat at their apex.

  I lift my hips and rock them, slowly, up.

  Her legs quiver and her hand grips my thigh briefly, her fingernails dig into my skin and bite my lip to hold in a groan.

  God, I can smell her.

  Then, she turns and looks over her shoulder at me Her eyes are hidden by the dark opacity of her sunglasses. But I know what’s behind them.

  Almond shaped, wide set, thick lashed eyes that are as dark, deep, and unknowable as a moonless, starless, midnight sky.

  Her lips part, as if she’s about to speak. Instead, she bites the plump flesh at the same time that she rolls her hips, slowly but deliberately. Her moan is soundless, but her back arches and her lip slips from the greedy grip of her teeth as she mouths “coming” before she faces forward again.

  But for her thighs trembling on top of mine, and the shallow, sharp breaths that lift her shoulders, I wouldn’t know anything was happening to her.

  By the time the driver pulls into the resort and turns on the overhead lights, I’m rock hard, my balls ache, my mind on the edge of fevered. I want to roar for everyone to get the fuck off so I can pull my dick out and fuck her senseless.

  But, neither of us move, not even to breathe, as Carol and her crew climb off.

  What happens now? Do I tell her who I am?

  And then what? Apologize?

  “Reggie, are you asleep?” My eyes fly open at the sound of her friend’s voice. She’s sitting across from us, smirking. “You can stop using that man like a throne. There are plenty of seats.”

  “Oh, god, sorry,” Regan says as she looks around the now empty carriage. She scoots forward so that she can stand.

  I let go of her and grab my hat off my head and drop it over my erection.

  My hair is the only thing about me that hasn’t changed since the last time I saw her, but it’s cut so low that none of the natural waves are visible.

  I tense as she looks me over and I wait for her to gasp in recognition. It doesn’t come and I’m disappointed rather than relieved.

  “Thank you,” she says and there’s a stiffness in her voice and in the set of her insanely voluptuous mouth as she sits next to her friend.

  “I’m glad you got your bracelet free,” I say with as much equilibrium as I can manage. I nod toward her foot.

  Only the tips of her toes are visible beneath the flood of her dress, now, but I’ll never forget the feel of her legs against mine. I can’t believe what we just did.

  “Your bracelet got loose?” Her friend probes.

  “Yeah,” she laughs and wiggles her delicate foot, wriggling her pretty light pink painted toes. “My anklet... It got caught on his laces, but I freed it.”

  She crosses her arms over her chest, and leans her head against the shuttle window, effectively dismissing both of us.

  “We’re pulling away, one stop left,” the driver informs as he closes the doors and sends us back into darkness. The bright overhead lights are on and I glance over to find the driver watching me through the rearview. with a knowing look on his face before he turns his eyes back to the road.

  Shit. Did he see?

  Well, as long as his mind was the only thing recording it, I don’t care.

  My eyes drift closed as we ride along. The warm wind is a soft caress that carries the scent of flowers and the ocean as we zipped along the winding path cut into the side of this cliff. But I can still smell her citrus on me.

  With my eyes closed, I could almost imagine that I’m back in that bakery.

  Almost.

  She’s got a hint of her flavor, but the woman sitting across from now is not the girl I spent six months falling in love with when I was ten.

  I'm not the boy who was willing to plunge his knife into someone’s back to save her.

  For more than one reason, she’s totally off limits. I should be praying I never see her again, not willing the shuttle to go slower.

  When we reach the stop where we’re all getting off, her friend is on her feet before we come to a complete stop. She’s standing at the door and rushes off the shuttle as soon as the doors open.

  “No rushing at Pueblo Bonito,” the driver admonishes her rapidly retreating back

  Regan doesn’t move. With her sunglasses on, I can’t tell if she’s asleep or just lost in thought.

  The high-pitched peel of my alarm startles us both and she lets out a small cry and turns her head sharply toward me.

  I hold my phone up, “It’s just my alarm, sorry,” I say quickly.

  It takes one blink to replace the dazed weariness in her expression with indignant affront. “Oh,” she relaxes slightly and drops her arms to her side.

  My phone chimes again and I grimace as I turn it on silent.

  She gives me an awkward nod and then she’s up and heading off the shuttle, too. It’s impossible not to notice the way her shapely ass moves for just a fraction of a second after she’s stopped walking. Would it do that if I slapped it?

  My dick stirs again. Which will not do. It’s one thing to keep my hat on my lap on the shuttle, I can’t walk around the resort like that.

  So, I drop my eyes to the part of her dress that brushes the ground.

  “Señor,” the driver calls when I’m halfway down the shuttle steps.

  I turn back to him.

  “Te perdiste tu parada” You missed your stop,” His grin is pure mischief.

  I give him a good natured, slightly abashed smile. “Lo sé” I know.

  He nods in Regan’s direction, his expression teasing still, with a touch of wistfulness. “No te culpo” I don’t blame you.

  I wish him goodnight and head in the direction of the red brick paved terrace that leads to the reservation desk.

  Regan is a few steps ahead of me and I keep a respectable distance between us. I don’t know why I’m following her or what I’ll do when I catch up, but I can’t just let her walk away.

  I can still smell her on me. I turn my head to draw in
a breath and catch a sweet flowery scent mingled with the tart citrus and spicy ginger. It’s intoxicating.

  “Are you following me?” She comes to an abrupt stop and pivots on her heel to face me.

  “Yes.”

  She whips her sunglasses off and even though it’s dark, this walkway is well lit, and I can see that her eyes are red rimmed, like she’s been crying.

  Guilt curdles in my gut. “Oh shit, I’m sorry, I thought—”

  “About what happened --”

  We speak at the same time.

  “Ladies first. Please.” I insist when she bites her lip

  “I’ve never done anything like that…” she says in a halting voice.

  I step closer to her, close enough that I can smell her again.

  It makes my mouth water.

  “Did you like it?” I ask.

  “Yes,” she replies in a husky voice. She bites that sweet lower lip and my eyes drop to her mouth. She lets go of it and clears her throat. I drag my gaze back to her eyes. Her gaze is dark and inscrutable, but the energy between us is frantic and charged.

  I reach for her slowly, to give her a chance to step away. When she doesn’t, I brush a lock of hair off her shoulder and run the tip of my forefinger down her arm.

  “Are your panties wet?” I ask.

  She draws in a sharp breath and shifts her stance; her lips part and she licks them quickly before nods.

  “Go in there, take 'em off and bring them to me.” I demand, nodding at her pelvis.

  She cocks her head at me, her wary eyes heavy lidded with arousal. “Have you… done something like…that before?” Her voice is full of anticipation, and when I shake my head no, she seems to relax a little.

  “Good, you’re my first, too.”

  Lord, how I wish that was true. She can’t hear the thundering of my raging pulse, but when a small smile tugs up the concerns of her mouth, I would almost swear she knows that I’m unraveling on the inside.

  “Reggie, come on already, they need your credit card to change it,” her friend yells from the door. Her eyes widen in alarm and she slips her sunglasses on before she turns pivots in a smooth circle and turns her back to me.

  I want to call after her, I don’t know what else I’d say.