Sex, Vows & Babies: Surviving Harley (Kindle Worlds Novella)

by K. Webster

  “Do you have food in the back?” I whisper. “I’m hungry.”

  He squeezes my thigh. “Let me find us a safe place to stop. Then I’ll feed you, beautiful.”

  His words warm me. Everything around us is in chaos, yet Harley keeps my heart from exploding. I feel as though, with him, I’ll be okay. His promise to protect me is thick in the air. I’ve spent every year since I was fourteen protecting myself. It’s nice to share that burden with him.

  I trust him.

  The thought hits me like a ton of bricks. A couple of months ago, I promised him that the moment I held trust for him, I’d tell him a dark part of myself. A part I’d kept hidden deep inside—from everyone. That day when he pulled me into the pantry and made my body light up with fire for him, I’d been tempted to finally speak about what had upset me. I’d gotten news of a certain foster parent that had gone to prison. And sad part is, I felt responsible for those he harmed. Even though my chest aches, I refuse to harbor this secret alone any longer. I trust Harley. He deserves all of the parts of me—even the not-so-pretty ones.

  “My parents died when I was fourteen,” I tell him abruptly. “The system is hard for a small, innocent teen.” Tears prickle my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. “Many of the foster homes I was dropped into weren’t any safer than being alone on the street. There were so many predators out there.”

  He stiffens as he slows down. “Predators are still out there.”

  “Trust me, I know.”

  “Did anyone…you know….” he trails off and winces. “Abuse you?”

  I swallow and lift my chin as he turns down a secluded tree-lined road. “They were all bad. I always had to stay on alert. Lock my bedroom door. Sleep with one eye open. One of the foster homes I’d gone to was the worst though. A couple. Corbin and Mary. Corbin was nice actually. It was Mary who’d just slap you for no reason. I always liked when she’d go to the store or go to play bingo. The other kids in the home were much smaller than me. I’d play with the little ones and Corbin wouldn’t yell at us.”

  I close my eyes as Harley rolls to a stop on a gravel road. It’s quiet out here. He shuts the truck off and unbuckles my seatbelt. Then, he pulls me into his lap so I’m straddling him. His brown eyes have darkened. I can tell he doesn’t want to hear the rest of my story. Truth is, he needs to hear it. I’ve never told a soul, but I want to tell him.

  “Mary was out late and the kids had long gone to bed. Corbin peeked into the bedroom and said he needed help with something. Being the naïve girl I was, I followed him into his room. His back always hurt him, which is why he didn’t work. He said since Mary wasn’t there, he needed me to massage some cream onto him. I’d felt nervous. Corbin was wearing nothing but a pair of basketball shorts and I was just in my flimsy nightgown.”

  Harley growls and his grip on my hips tighten.

  I swallow before continuing. “I didn’t want to get into trouble so I crawled into his bed and straddled his hips. He was face down on the mattress so I didn’t feel too threatened. Corbin had always been nice to me. He was hurting and I felt bad for him. So I massaged his back as best I could. There were knots all over the place and I tried to work them out.” I close my eyes and shudder. Harley strokes my hair in a comforting way. “He made sounds of pleasure. Told me I was doing a good job. Then he asked if I could do his chest too. He said the pain sometimes wrapped around his front.”

  “Jesus…” Harley snarls, but doesn’t say anything else so I continue.

  “I was just fifteen at the time. My parents had died the year before. Nobody loved me. Sure, the kids at that home seemed to. But then, I felt a connection with Corbin. Like maybe he wanted to love me.” A tear streaks down my cheek. I’m embarrassed at how desperate for love I’d been. “I could feel his… I could feel his erection between my legs. I ignored it because I liked how he gently rubbed my bare thighs. Love shone in his eyes as I massaged his sore chest. But then….”

  Harley growls and mutters out a string of curse words.

  “Then he touched me. By accident at first, maybe. I’d jolted in shock, but then our eyes locked. The next time was on purpose.” Shame coats my voice and a choked sob escapes me. “I liked it, Harley. It felt good.”

  “You were a fucking child. He had no right,” he seethes. “You didn’t know any better and he used you.”

  Corbin had greying hair. A pot belly. Always smelled of marijuana. And yet… I felt something for him.

  “He was gentle when he pulled me against his chest. Then, he rolled us so I was beneath him. Panic had seized me, but then his fingers stroked my cheek. I just wanted him to hold me and love me.” More tears leak out. “He sat up and pulled my panties from my body. I remember being scared when he pushed his shorts down and his penis flopped out. I’d never seen one before. It seemed big and ugly. I didn’t even fully understand what he wanted to do with it.”

  Harley is shaking with rage. I can’t look him in his sad eyes any longer so I bury my face against his neck.

  “It was hard. I remember crying when he pulled my thighs apart. He kissed me softly between my legs. As long as I closed my eyes and just gave into the sensations, everything was okay. He kissed me with his tongue on my sensitive nub until I was no longer in control of my body. A foreign sensation came over me and I shuddered out of control. Then, he pressed his hard penis against a place only I’d ever touched before him. His lips that reeked of marijuana mixed with a hint of me, covered mine and the scream that was to come when he fully shoved himself inside of me.”

  Harley hugs me so tight I think I’ll break. I start crying so hard I can’t finish my story. But I have to. I need to. It’s never felt safe to tell anyone until now.

  “H-He didn’t last long. And…and…then he pulled out, made a grunt, and his heat splashed my stomach. Blood was smeared along his penis. Fear had flashed in his eyes. He begged me not to tell anyone, especially Mary. Said he was afraid she’d hurt me for seducing him. Or worse yet, that she’d hurt one of the kids to get me back. I let him carry me into the bathroom where he ran me a hot bath. He washed me while I cried. Begged me to forgive him. Made me promise to keep the secret. Once I was safe again inside my bed, I vowed I would never tell a soul. I was too ashamed.”

  Harley grips my cheeks and pulls me to where he can look at me. “He raped you, babe. That motherfucker raped an underage girl. Jesus fucking Christ.”

  I sniffle and lean forward. I want him to kiss away the memory, but he speaks again.

  “Please tell me you told on him.”

  Cringing, I shake my head. “I accidentally ‘seduced’ him eleven more times, Harley. He’d come into my room at night asking if he could hug me goodnight. It’s like he knew I craved the affection. His hug would turn into a kiss. The kiss would turn into his hand in my panties. And that would turn into him inside of me. I grew to like it. After several nights, I slept without clothes to make it easier for him. He told me he loved me and that I was his secret girl. That we could love like that in the dark and we’d both be happy.”

  Harley starts kissing me hard against my lips as though he is trying to keep the words from coming out. His wiry beard scratches me raw and I like it. I let out a moan of pleasure when his hand slips under my hoodie and he digs his fingers into the flesh of my back. I want him everywhere touching me, scratching me, biting me. When his lips find my neck and he suckles my tender skin, I cry out.

  “I wasn’t happy though…” I mutter, hell bent on getting the rest of my story out.

  He lets out a pained moan and bites my neck. “Babe, you don’t have to do this.”

  “I fell into a depression. When Corbin wasn’t in my bed at night, he ignored me. He watched without emotion when Mary would hit me or shove me. Our secret remained just that… a secret. Until child services came knocking on our door. One of the other kids had bruises on their arms and they ratted out Mary’s abuse to a school counselor. They were there to take us away. When we went to pack our things, Corb
in came into my bedroom. He wasn’t my secret lover. No, he was scary. I stumbled backwards until my back hit the wall. He got right in my face and said if I told a soul, he’d find a way to smother me in my sleep. And that nobody would believe some whore girl who has a crush on her foster dad. It was the last I’d ever seen of Mary and Corbin. A couple of months ago, I’d looked them up. Mary had died from complications of diabetes. But Corbin was in prison. Multiple counts of rape of a minor.” The guilt that holds me victim tightens its grip on my heart. “If I’d told someone, those other kids wouldn’t have had to deal with that.”

  Harley shakes his head and stares intently into my eyes. “You. Were. A. Child. That fucker was going to hurt people no matter what. You were lucky to have gotten out before things escalated, like him getting you pregnant or hurting you worse. Don’t ever place that blame on yourself. You’re a good person who was taken advantage of. I swear to God, nobody will ever take advantage of you again.” His vow hangs thick around us. I want to pull it from the air and wrap it around me like a warm blanket.

  “That day,” I tell him with a sigh, “in the pantry. I’d just found out he’d gone to prison for all of this. I wanted to tell you then, but I was embarrassed.”

  “You never have to be embarrassed around me,” he murmurs. “We’re on the same team.”

  “Thank you,” I whisper.

  He strokes my hair and smiles at me. “Thank you for telling me your story. Let’s get some food into you, beautiful. We still have a long drive.”

  My body is alive and needy for his, but his words fill up all the holes I’d revealed to him. Harley was right. For some strange reason, I want him to see the real me. Not the plastic version I’d created for the world. Just me.

  Because the real me has been hiding. She’s been waiting for the right person to love her. Not some animal who takes advantage of a girl in distress. No, someone real. Someone genuine.

  Mostly, she just wants to love someone back.

  It’s well past midnight when Harley declares we’ll stop again for the night. We’ve taken turns driving since we left the city around seven this morning and only stopped briefly to eat, fill the tank up, and pee. Thankfully he had the foresight to bring toilet paper. I was actually quite shocked at how much he’d accumulated in a short amount of time. The back of the truck is filled with all sorts of things. When he’d showed me the guns, I’d freaked out a little and refused to hold one for fear of shooting myself or him by accident. He’d simply laughed at me and told me he’d make a country girl out of me yet.

  The drive has been long and thankfully uneventful. We’ve avoided major cities and not stopped off on any populated roads. Mostly, we’ve passed scared looking families out on the road. I know we’re somewhere in Wisconsin and Harley deemed it safe enough to stop for the night. He drives and drives down a winding, dark road using only the moonlight to guide him. When I asked why, he’d told me it was so nobody would see us. I know he’s not deliberately trying to instill fear in me, but I’m terrified. Terrified mostly of the unknown. Like the day I was called to the principal’s office where they told me my parents had been in a fatal accident. I had no idea where I’d end up. They were the only family I had. I was scared out of my mind. I’ve been scared ever since.

  “This looks like a good spot. The road doesn’t seem well traveled. We’ll pull off into those trees.” He points through the windshield into the darkness.

  “Do you think a bear will get us?” I murmur.

  He chuckles. “The only bear getting you tonight is me.”

  Warmth pools in the pit of my belly. I’m exhausted and stressed, but just the idea of having him again is enough to lift my spirits. He parks the truck and pulls out the tent from the back. With the patience of a saint, he shows me how to put it up. Like he’s told this to a million people before. I remember on his information sheet when we were matched he’d said he was a survivalist. I didn’t really understand what it meant.

  “You’ve gone through this spiel a time or two haven’t you?” I question as I gather some limbs for firewood like he’d instructed.

  He laughs and it echoes in the silent forest. “It was my job.”

  “To show people how to pitch a tent?”

  “Among other things. How to start a fire. How to hunt. How to purify water from about any source. What sort of leaves are edible. Which ones that aren’t. How to administer first aid to a multitude of injuries.” He says it all as if it is no big deal. Considering I know nothing about any of it, I feel like it’s a huge deal.

  “So you were a survival instructor? Was there really a market for that?” I ask in astonishment.

  He bends to pick up a heavy limb. “You’d be surprised how many people saw this collapse of the world coming. People want to be ready if shit hits the fan. Not everyone, like those AAA assholes insinuated, was addicted to technology. They think the US will drop to its knees without electricity. It will. But some of us are ready. Some of us can protect what’s ours.” His shadowed face turns to regard me and I shiver. Why does it feel good to feel as though I belong to him?

  “You’re going to teach me?”

  He walks back over to where our tent is and drops his wood. I toss mine onto the pile. Then, he pulls me into his arms. His warm breath heats my chilled flesh. “I’m going to teach you a whole lot, pixie.”

  I laugh. “Forest fairy, huh?”

  His eyes twinkle with delight. “You look in your element here. I can’t wait to get you in that tent and your clothes off.” I tremble at his words. I can’t wait either. “But first,” he grumbles. “We need to eat and lock up the truck. I also want this fire going so when I get you naked, you won’t freeze.”

  I’ve never been so eager to learn how to build a fire in my entire life.

  Dinner wasn’t bad. We’d eaten some perishable stuff he’d snagged from the condo that were in a cooler. Harley isn’t some dumb redneck like I’d originally thought. He can pick out sounds animals make and tell me not only what they are, but what they’re doing. The man explains things about the wilderness that seem exciting and a lot less scary. By the time he pulls out a flask from his jacket pocket, I’m ready to attack him. But despite his hard exterior, I can sense the unease beneath the surface. Clearly, with the the alcohol, he wants to take the bite of reality away.

  He takes a swig before passing it to me. As soon as I taste it, I gag.

  “You don’t like whiskey?” he probes, his teeth appearing from beneath his facial hair as he grins.

  I roll my eyes and take another long pull, trying desperately hard not to wince at the disgusting taste. “I prefer my pinot grigio, but this will do.”

  It doesn’t take long before my body warms from the inside out. I reach for more, but he puts the cap on it and tucks it away.

  “I wasn’t done,” I say with a pout.

  He chuckles and stands. “I want you aware of everything I do to you tonight.”

  My body is no longer warm, but hot instead for this big, hairy man. “You have your work cut out for you,” I tease. “Last night, I got fucked pretty good. It’ll be hard topping that. We even had voyeurs,” I say and cover my mouth as if it’s taboo and we did it on purpose.

  “Get in the tent, nasty girl. Last night was just the prologue. I’m about to give you the whole damn story.”

  I squeal when he slaps my ass. “Is this a children’s story?”

  “It’s an erotic thriller.”

  We both crawl into the small tent and sit on the soft sleeping bags he’s rolled out. Moments before we were all laughs, but now I feel a twinge of awkwardness as he just stares at me. Neither of us have showered in nearly twenty-four hours. My makeup is still caked on from where they applied it in the wee hours of the morning. And I’m suddenly feeling inadequate.

  “I don’t like that look in your eyes,” he murmurs, his voice so low I feel it more than I hear it.

  “What look?”

  He places his palm on my thigh and begin
s rubbing up and down over my jeans in a teasing manner. “The look that says you aren’t good enough. Aren’t made up enough. Aren’t pretty enough.” He scowls. “The look you make when you’re trying to make yourself presentable for them.”

  I swallow. How does he read me so well? “Who’s them?”

  “America. Douchebag Dec. The network.”

  His finger grazes along the seam of my jeans just above my pussy causing me to gasp in surprise.

  “I don’t like that look. I think you’re beautiful and I want you no matter what you look like. In fact,” he says with a tender smile. His hand abandons my thigh and cups my cheek. “I think you’re much prettier without all of this.” His thumb strokes my cheek just under my heavy eye makeup that still remains. “I like when I can see the real you. Your sexy freckles. Your innocent smile. Your shining green eyes.”

  I melt at his words. “You do?”

  He smirks as he peels his sweatshirt from his body. My gaze falls to his tattooed, sculpted chest. I want to spend hours inspecting each piece of art.

  “I want to see all of you,” he growls.

  His fingers find the bottom of my hoodie and I let out an eager gasp when he pulls it and my T-shirt up over my head. I help him out by undoing my bra. We sit side by side with our shirts off. I’m dying to feel his skin pressed up against mine.

  “Take off your pants. Show me your wet cunt.”

  I laugh at his bold words. “No shame with you, huh?”

  He shrugs his shoulders as he shimmies out of his own jeans. His cock, thick and eager, bounces out. Harley is most definitely a Benjamin. His dick is practically a monster when compared to Declan’s six-inch Ken doll penis. The thought of them standing side by side throws me into a fit of giggles.

  I scored big with this guy.

  Way big.

  My giggles turn into snorts. Harley doesn’t help the matters by tickling me. We’re making all kinds of racket, but soon my pants are off and we fall quiet. His intense brown eyes are searing into me as he lies on his side next to me. My body quivers from anticipation, not the cold. I’m naked and exposed. Why do I feel more raw and on display than ever before? Even more than when the entire country was viewing us?