by Echo Slater
“Bat your big blue eyes and say, ‘Oh, Mad Dog, your dick is too much for me. Please instruct me how to tame the ferocious beast.’ I’m sure he’ll love knowing his dick has ruined you for other men.”
“He’ll definitely test my bajingo’s ability to stretch.”
“At first, but I hear they adjust. Like the first baby makes a woman nearly die, but the second one is easier. My aunt’s fourth kid just fell right out of her when she farted too hard.”
“No,” I say as usual when she gets anatomy painfully wrong.
“Don’t ‘no’ me. I know what I’m talking about. She was very proud of her fart delivery.”
“What about the poor baby who fell out?”
“He landed on a mattress. Apparently, farting hard is part of the foreplay she was wielding against my uncle’s magic dick.”
“Just no.”
Hagan snorts and says with her mouth full, “Stop judging. My aunt and uncle are like your parents. Despite their lame outer shells, they’re stone-cold freaks in the bedrooms.”
“I don’t know how to make you stop talking.”
“You never have.”
Grinning, I ask, “Should I give him a handjob at the end of the movie date as an appetizer for this weekend?”
“Um, I don’t know. Won’t you be riding his Harley? How does one stealthily jack a guy off while on a motorcycle? I know you’re coordinated, but there’s a definite size differential between his dick and your hand. Seems like that’s enough trouble. Then, you factor in the Harley, and I see an accident waiting to happen,” Hagan says and bursts into laughter. “Can you imagine your parents’ reaction if they have to pick you up from the ER after a handjob gone wrong?”
Rolling my eyes at her vivid description of my failed handy, I mutter, “You could have said no.”
“Yeah, but you never listen when I keep shit simple. You require a picture drawn.”
“Well, you’re not wrong. I totally thought the handjob thing was a good idea until the ER part.”
“And sliding your hand in his pants at the movies won’t be easy since he wears tight jeans. I also suspect there’s a lot of dick to work with.”
“Okay, so maybe I can just fondle him over the jeans. I’ll save the real stuff for his place this weekend. That way, I can avoid injuries.”
“Maybe wear protective gear, too. A helmet and knee pads wouldn’t hurt.”
Though I adore Hagan’s playful banter, she paints a picture of Mad Dog being more than I can handle. I’ve blown a few guys, gave a couple handjobs. Nothing super sexy. Those guys nutted quickly. Easy-peasy and only a little sleazy. I seriously doubt Mad Dog will jizz after a minute of sucking.
Later, while waiting in front of my house, I’m sent into panic mode at the sight of him climbing off his black Harley. No way can I handle a man of his size and power. I haven’t even graduated high school yet. I’m still a moron child, and he’s packing mature heat capable of burning me up.
I’m ready to flee into the house and call things off. Mad Dog won’t be alone long. Oh, yeah, I’m making a run for safety!
Well, until he flashes me a smile, and my brain instantly forgets all those pesky worries. I’ll learn to satisfy him. Though I’m a terrible student at school, I pick up new things fine in other places, um, like Mad Dog’s bedroom.
“You look sweet as candy,” he murmurs, and I feel a goofy smile warm my face.
“I missed you.”
Mad Dog’s cocky grin shifts. His dark eyes quickly hold a different emotion. My words stir up a vulnerability in him. I can’t believe I’m the first woman to say she missed Mad Dog.
“I missed you, too,” he says in a raw tone I don’t expect.
His lips cover mine, and I feel silly for wanting to flee earlier. If I’m uncertain about satisfying this large, rough man, I’ll just ask him for help. Mad Dog has a big heart. He won’t mock me or get angry if I’m nervous.
I already trust both him and our addictive, wholly unexpected relationship.
MAD DOG—NO ONE LIKE YOU
Since I left Cameo at the restaurant, I’ve been dying to get back to her. All day, my brain is lost in fantasies about the hot brunette. At breakfast and lunch, I barely hear what anyone says. She remains in my thoughts when I run my club errands. Now, I’m finally at her house, enjoying her sweet smile as she walks toward my bike.
My gaze immediately notices how Cameo’s pink polo clings to her curvy tits. I rub my fingers against my jeans to avoid reaching out to touch those mounds of flesh. I feel them pressed against the back of me as we ride to the theater.
When she climbs off my Harley, Cameo reaches up to fix her windblown hair. I notice her rock-hard nipples poking through the fabric. My dick thickens until I might need to rub one out in the restroom just to think straight.
“I like this shirt,” Cameo says as I sit on the silent Harley and try to get my dick to settle the fuck down. Her fingers slide across my chest. “Do you like whiskey?”
“Huh?” I ask before realizing I’m wearing my dark blue Jack Daniel’s shirt.
“You got me wound up, and I can’t think straight.”
Cameo steps closer and stares into my eyes with her baby blues. “I’m obsessed with you, Mad Dog. I guess that makes us somewhat even.”
“Why only somewhat?”
“You’ve gotten wound up on plenty of girls, but you’re my first obsession.”
“No one,” I say and take her hand in mine, “has ever whipped me into a frenzy like you have.”
“How come?”
“You’re my kryptonite, making me weak.”
“That feels like a line you’ve told girls before.”
“Baby, I don’t need to seduce women. I look like this,” I say and wink. “And I drive this,” I add while patting the Harley.
“So, I’m the first one you’ve told your kryptonite line to?” she asks, stroking my face with her free hand. “How fortunate for you that it worked.”
“Liked it, huh?”
“When I was little, my dad and I watched those old Superman movies. Kryptonite made a godlike creature crumble. Seems sexy knowing we’re each other’s weakness.”
My fingers find a hole in her pale blue jeans and caress the bare flesh. “Don’t let the woody I’m sporting distract you from the movie. My interest goes way beyond how damn beautiful you are. However, my dick gives zero fucks about how fast my heart is beating. It only wants us naked somewhere.”
Cameo’s breath catches as she says, “This weekend, we’ll find relief.”
“Are you hurting, baby?” I murmur and kiss her cheek before stroking her throat with my lips.
“I feel you on my skin, even when I haven’t seen you in hours. So, yeah, I have needs.”
I’m tempted to talk Cameo into ditching the movie and heading over to my place for some hot fun. Yeah, my dick’s a huge fucking fan of this plan. But my heart screams I’m building something real with Cameo. If I treat her like a hookup, she’ll view what we have as temporary.
I think back to how Grizz was with Raqui. He hunkered down to make his woman see nothing beyond him. That’s why Raqui will follow around an older, gruff man. She isn’t suffering from desperation like my mom did with my dad. None of that “no other option” bullshit, either. Falling so hard for Grizz, Raqui willingly lives on a secluded property with many annoying bikers.
If I want Cameo to nest long-term with me, I can’t blow off this movie. Instead, I’ll view sitting through the entire thing as a test of my devotion. Hell, I won’t even whack off during the trailers. Instead, I’ll sit next to my girl and show I’m worthy of her devotion.
After a few long kisses rattle my resolve, we finally chill out and walk hand in hand to the theater.
Once inside, I’m a little surprised by the concession stand lines. My movie nights are at the Ranch. The Wet Dicks normally watch flicks we’ve seen too many times, all while heckling the characters. But for the young adults in Barrow, the theate
r is apparently a regular hangout. Makes sense. There isn’t much to do around here, and partying on a weekday is probably frowned upon by the smarter kids. Though based on our weed and moonshine sales, plenty of locals view every single day as an opportunity to get wasted.
Reaching the line, Cameo tightens her grip on my hand. Though she’s clearly edgy, her expression is unreadable.
I scan the people around us. A few guys are wearing varsity jackets. I assume they know Cameo since they’re jocks and she’s the hottest cheerleader.
Earlier, I considered whether to wear my club vest. I’m never embarrassed by the Wet Dicks. Those men are my family, and I fucking love my life.
But I didn’t want Cameo affected by the locals’ stupid views of the club. I got no issue with the townies’ long-term dislike of me, though. When I struggled as a child around here, none of these people gave a shit about me. Only the Dicks offered me a damn thing.
That’s why I wear my vest tonight, despite worrying some asshole will throw shade at Cameo for being seen with me. I refuse to hide who I am. Not even for my sweet girl still eyeballing the popcorn combinations.
In the line next to ours, one of the varsity shits works up the nerve to start trouble.
“Slumming it, Cameo?” he asks, sneering at her.
I don’t immediately step in, only because I sense this bullshit is high school-related, and I graduated long ago.
“Oh, poor Brayden,” Cameo murmurs, giving him a sympathetic look. “You keep asking for another chance, and I keep telling you no. Just give it up already.”
“I don’t want you,” he spits out while his date takes turns glaring at him and then Cameo.
“If that were true, you wouldn’t be giving off such small-dick energy right now.”
“You wanted me.”
“If I’m the stalker, why are you acting like a fool on a date in front of Kaylee? Not cool, especially after she dumped Cody for you.”
“Shut up, bitch.”
While Cameo holds her own just fine against the jock, I can’t stand by once he directs that particular word at my girl. “Brayden, is it?”
“Yes, his name is Brayden Grover,” Cameo says helpfully.
“Does he live in Barrow?”
“On Paisley Lane.”
“Ooh, classy area. Which of those big fancy houses is his?” I ask, and Brayden’s eyes widen, and his friends stop snickering.
“The one with the willow tree and a ‘C’ on the front gate.”
“Are you threatening me?” Brayden asks in a voice aiming for tough and landing on terrified.
“I don’t threaten children. If there’s an issue, I’ll take it up with your parents.”
Brayden pushes back his shoulders, tries to seem bigger, and hits me with his attempt at a gotcha moment. “If I’m a child, what does that say about you and your girlfriend?”
“On the calendar, you two might be the same age. But you’re acting like I did when I was twelve. Since I really shouldn’t punch someone with the mentality of a sixth-grader, I’ll stop by your house and talk up your parents.”
“Stay away from my family,” he says, trying to growl at me.
“Stay away from my woman,” I successfully growl in response. Brayden shrinks a few inches. Finding my smile, I gesture at his frowning date. “This chick seems nice. Focus on her.”
“Yeah!” Kaylee cries and shoves Brayden before storming off to the bathroom with her gal pals in pursuit.
“Slick,” Cameo tells the jock before noticing the line has moved up, and we’ll order soon.
I smirk at Brayden, who gets shit from his friends now pissed over their dates freaking out. Though I like the idea of ruining their night, I’m mostly amused by Brayden’s fear over my showing up at his house. The little shit really thinks I’ll rat him out to Mommy and Daddy. As if those rich fucks would care.
No, if I have to deal with Brayden, I’ll do something far less legal than playing snitch to Mister and Missus Richie Rich.
CAMEO—I’M ON FIRE
During the entire boring movie, I hear the jock losers talking trash from their spot a few rows below us. Yet, none of those distractions change how good I feel cuddled against Mad Dog for a few hours. Our tongue tango provides a great distraction. More than once, my hands slide up his shirt, drawn to his hot skin, hard muscles, and thick chest hair.
Mad Dog knows exactly what he does to me, too. His fingers casually slide along my inner thigh. I’m so tempted to go somewhere, so he can press them against my wet pussy and help me find relief. Of course, his dick also likely wants help. But once we get started, no way will handjobs be enough.
“I’m sorry about the drama,” I say when Mad Dog drops me off. Though I hate telling him goodnight, I have barely any time left before my curfew. “You probably think we’re a bunch of dumb kids.”
Wearing an impossibly inviting smirk, he shrugs. “Them? Sure. You? No way. You handled the varsity simp like a lady.”
I stand next to the motorcycle and press my body against his. Mad Dog wraps an arm around my waist and plants a kiss on my waiting lips. I don’t care about my parents or neighbors watching. No doubt Hagan is taking notes. Despite feeling the audience, I can’t focus on anything beyond the heat coming off this powerful man.
Mad Dog pops his lips free and sighs deep in his wide chest. “We’ll be even, drama-wise, this weekend when you come over.”
“How come?”
His dark gaze watches me under the streetlights. “Raqui is gunning to get more gal pals at the Ranch. She’ll talk your ear off.”
“Rocky?”
“Raqui is short for Raquel. Grizz’s woman.”
“Oh, yeah.”
“She’s pregnant, though. If you need to run, she can’t really chase you.”
Stroking his neatly bearded jaw, I grin at the picture he paints. “She’s not what I’m afraid of this weekend.”
“What’s got you stressed, then?”
“Your girth, us having a fight, me embarrassing myself in front of your friends, you and I not clicking in bed like we do right now.”
“Do you think your parents click in bed?”
“Yes. That’s why they’re always fucking.”
“Really?” he asks, still not buying they’re horndogs. “Well, they click in real life, like for the day-to-day stuff. Makes sense they’d work hard to click in bed. It’s not always natural.”
“How do you know?”
“I don’t. It’s just something I heard, and it sounded good.”
Grinning at his wink, I ask, “So, if you and I don’t click in bed, it’ll be okay?”
“Sure. We’ll just practice a whole bunch.”
My lips find his, tasting what I’m addicted to. I know we’ll be hot in bed. That’s not my real fear. I’m scared about what happens when the heat and newness wear off, and I’m not special anymore.
But I don’t share these specific worries with Mad Dog. He’s been with plenty of women. This weekend doesn’t hold as much weight for him. If I make too big a deal out of my fears, he might feel suffocated. Though I’m no guy expert, I know they hate when girls smother them.
Later, after getting into bed, my mind remains on Mad Dog and this weekend.
“I could love him,” I tell Hagan, who goofs around in her bed. “He’s magic.”
“I want to say something disapproving right now. It’s my nature and all. But then, I imagine every other guy in town. You won’t do better than the dirty bastard. Seriously. I did an actual Barrow inventory, and he’s your best option. You best stick the landing, Cam.”
“How?”
“Start with a truly salacious blowjob and end by offering your cherry with a bow on top.”
Hagan’s sexual experience isn’t any more illustrious than mine. But her two-step plan seems solid. Plus, she said the words with confidence, and I’m easily swayed by bravado. That’s one reason Mad Dog hits me right in the heart. He never seems the least bit unsure, even whe
n he’s spewing bullshit. I like having someone solid running the show. I’m not a mindless sheep, of course, but I’ll never be a leader.
Arriving at the Ranch days later, I’m wearing the best fuck-me cropped top I could get past my parents. My jeans aren’t overly tight since my mom has an obsession with boys checking out my ass. I kept my makeup casual, like going to the movies with Hagan rather than getting my cherry plucked by a biker.
“What if his friends laugh at me?” I ask, feeling overly nervous.
Cocking one of her thick brows, she asks, “For what?”
“I don’t know.”
“Like, are you planning to trip or piss yourself or something?”
“I might.”
“Cry,” Hagan says before following Bane out of the room. “If anyone messes with you or makes you uncomfortable, just cry. That puts the baggage on them.”
I know she’s right. Crying is a solid go-to move when I’m in over my head. It works on teachers, coaches, and, of course, my parents.
Having gotten out all my emotional fuckery with Hagan earlier, I’m super relaxed when I climb out of my SUV at the Ranch. Nearby, Mad Dog leans against a fence railing, just watching me. I love how his face shifts when our eyes meet. He goes from lovesick puppy to cocky beast. Oh, he definitely knows what’s happening tonight.
The evening air is filled with Lynyrd Skynyrd and the scent of barbecue. A breeze swirls around me, messing up my perfectly brushed hair. Though I’m probably underdressed for the cooling evening, I wanted to be sexy for my big night.
“How long have you been standing out here?” I ask, walking over to him.
“I woke up thinking about you,” he says, strutting toward me. “And I spent the entire damn day waiting for a taste.”
Mad Dog lifts me off the ground, kissing me like a man unhinged. My arms wrap around his neck while my legs trap his body against mine.
If we went straight to his bed right now, I wouldn’t complain one bit. Mad Dog is all I can see, taste, and feel. He’s everything. Chatting with his friends seems like a distraction from the prize.
