by Evie Bennet
I knew we’d get there someday. He had to know just from looking in my eyes that I wasn’t really drunk. Even if he didn’t, I was giddy and almost silly with excitement.
Reed wanted to take care of me.
Any of the other patrons upstairs would’ve volunteered to help me to my car, but we’d made it clear that I was here for him and him only.
His to hold, I mused, brushing my thumb over his knuckles.
We got outside where he paused, rewrapping his arm around my waist. Sidewinders had never smelled particularly great, but pressed up against Reed, I had to actively prevent myself from just nosing into his undershirt and breathing deep for leather and sweat.
“Where’s your car? I didn’t see it in the lot.”
Was he looking for it earlier?
I blinked, studying him as he surveyed the land, trying to puzzle out how I got to the bar without him knowing. People tended to underestimate what I was capable of.
“We’re not taking your bike?”
His mouth quirked up in a smile. “No. We can’t leave a classic car like yours around here, now can we? I’ll drive you home.”
“But then how will you…”
Maybe he wasn’t planning on coming back right away for his bike. Maybe he’d stay.
“Okay,” I corrected myself, leaning heavily into his side in the hopes the tipsy cover story allowed for it.
His hand slid further up my waist like it was meant to be there. “Your car, Betty?”
I smiled, pointing to the trees just yonder. “There’s a spot over there.”
Unfortunately, it appeared he preferred to hold hands when he walked instead of sliding them along the expanse of my body where I wanted them.
“Why are you hiding?” He squinted in the dark, not quite looking at me.
“I don’t know. It seemed like a good idea just in case someone lost at pool and got mad or something. It’s not like they could scratch my car.”
“Huh. That’s smart.”
“I like to think so.” I smiled, maybe a little too shyly for someone who wasn’t supposed to be a hundred percent sober, but his presence warmed me in ways that made me feel like throwing up rainbows and tears.
We stopped by the hood of the car almost like we were going to pop the hood. Instead, Reed frowned contemplatively at me. “So why hide from me, Betty? Were you afraid I’d get angry at you?”
“No, not angry. It could be embarrassing,” I admitted, toeing his linked diamonds in the dirt.
“For me or for you?”
An incredulous stress-laugh escaped before I could siphon it. “Both, maybe. I mean, technically, you didn’t invite me. Milo was joking when he talked about karaoke. You guys might make fun of me for wanting to be here, for feeling better just because I was part of something.”
“The Rattlers?”
I shook my head. As easy as it would be to claim an interest in joining a biker gang, I needed him to feel me. “As nice as they may be to tolerate me and my pool playing, I came here to see you.”
There it was: my partial confession.
Unfortunately, Reed’s expression was mostly unreadable. I’d hoped that after our successful dates that he’d be receptive to what I’d assumed was obvious, even if maybe it wasn’t as obvious as haunting his local bar in the hopes we’d cross paths to some extent.
“I don’t expect anything,” I hurried on, gaze dipping to his scuffed jeans. “I just…”
“You’ve been drinking.”
Shocked, my head jerked up. My cheeks felt warm like cherry syrup left in the microwave and I couldn’t say I hadn’t, because then he’d call me a liar. He wouldn’t drive me, let alone want to be with me. But I hated lying. I glanced nervously at the steering wheel, feeling his gaze move with me.
“I want you sober, Betty.”
“I’m sorry, Reed,” I whispered, unsure from the hard edge to his voice if he meant he wanted me or he didn’t like the idea of me being tipsy. His arms were crossed, and his hands were tucked under his leather like a restraint. My skin felt bare and cold and raw. “You can punish me.”
Mouth parted, Reed’s eyes went incrementally wider, the tension in his shoulders sliding away. “I don’t... you shouldn’t be punished.”
“It’ll sober me up,” I promised. “Please. It just… it needs to come out of me. Whatever you’re holding back, maybe it needs to come out of you, too. You won’t—you won’t really hurt me. I trust you.”
His lips rolled inward in contemplation. “How many drinks did you have, Betty?”
“N–three,” I covered, rubbing the raised flesh of my arm. Everything felt tingly in anticipation.
“Brace yourself on the car hood.”
Reed whipped his jacket off and tossed it inside the car on the driver’s side, revealing his toned muscles and thin shirt. A good sign. My palms flexed happily on the armor of my car.
“I’m going to strike you once for every drink. You’re going to tell me how hard you need it.”
“Yes, Reed.” I looked at him over my shoulder, hoping his view was as alluring to him as mine was to me. He was circling me like he might appreciate a sculpture in a museum. He’d make me a work of art with his hands, with his love.
Closing my eyes, I turned to face the windshield and bent over.
“Hey.” His breath warmed my neck as his fist worked firmly down my ponytail, knuckles grinding down my spine in a massage. “I want your eyes open. I need to see you coming back to me.” With a shallow inhale, I felt myself floating, my eyes connecting with his, so dark like the midnight sky, so open and full of possibility.
I’d always come back to him.
“Good. You’re already sobering.” He smirked, tugging playfully on my hair.
With a bashful smile, I wiggled my hips back into his jeans. “Maybe.”
The first swat surprised me into gasping. I didn’t even realize we had started. It hit more of the side of my thigh than my ass, but that was probably because of the way we were pressed together, nearly grinding. He fingered the fringe on the edge of my shorts, teasing me.
“Legs wider, Betty.”
Trying to savor the sting, I spread my thighs and leaked whatever heat he’d put in me. We breathed together. One hand bracing my waist, he rubbed from my thigh across to the back pocket of my jeans. “You look so sweet. You wanted to look this good and not even come over so I could see you?”
“N–no.”
“What were you doing? Working up the nerve by drinking?”
He smacked me again, this one more full on the cheek. Although the denim dulled the sting, it still sent me squeaking forward a centimeter on the car hood.
Even the car was marked by my crazy.
It felt good. I watched him from over my shoulder, relishing the way his eyes lit up, full of this, full of me.
“I like watching,” I breathed the words, relishing the way his hand knotted in my hair.
“But you don’t want to be seen? You don’t want to feel me?” He kneaded my ass, sending me half-kneeling onto the hood of my car. My breasts kissed the armor for mercy.
“I do, Reed. Please.” Reaching back, I fisted his shirt, wishing I could rip it over his head and have him fuck me against the car. Or hold me. He let me hang onto him, patiently stroking my back with his thumb.
“Show me.”
My brain went numb.
What did he really want from me? Could I give him everything?
I couldn’t make sense of my head – so critical – and my heart – so full – so I went with my hands and let go of his shirt to unbutton my shorts. The air felt so much cooler as he stepped away.
He didn’t want me.
“Reed?”
When I turned to look at him, he was wiping his face, hand lingering on his lips while he warily glanced from me back to Sidewinders with an obvious bulge in his jeans. Panic tightened in my chest.
“I don’t want them to see me. I don’t want anyone else…”
“I know. We’re safe here, but just keep them on, for now.”
Not forever.
“Okay.” I sniffed, not bothering to button my shorts back together, not drawing them down my hips, either. “One more, please?”
“You’re so good,” he bemoaned, surprising me with the back of his hand. At my whimper, he pulled me flush against him. It felt so good to feel his chest against my back. “You were bad, though, to lie to me about your drinks, and for that you get one extra smack.”
“Reed.” Craving his touch, I tried to turn my head. His lips were so close. I could feel his breath on my neck. My whole body trembled as I burrowed back into him. We ground into one another, his hand mapping across my body, my stomach, thumb brushing the underside of my breasts.
I needed him to hold me.
We stayed together in an embrace.
He loved me, maybe. It was more than I expected.
As we melded together, I wound my hand back in his hair and hooked the other into the belt loop of his jeans. I could see our reflection in the windshield, the way his chin kept digging close to my neck as if to forage a space there just for him.
He had already filled every crack of my heart. My thoughts were running away with me again, but it was hard to pace myself when loving him felt like a natural instinct.
With a peck to my shoulder, Reed urged me forward for a firm pat that almost couldn’t be considered a smack. “Get in the car,” he said, wiping his mouth and avoiding eye contact. Thankfully, by the way he grabbed his jacket and slid into the driver’s seat, it was clear he was still down for a ride.
I was just hoping it would be inside of me, at some point.
For the first time, I slid into the passenger’s seat of my car and found it comfortable, enjoying the easy way he took the wheel. I never dreamed I’d find someone to trust with my baby, but after the way he caressed his bike, the way he tended to me, my faith was complete. The car rumbled to life.
“Let’s get you home. Where to?” He scanned the road as if there would be traffic in West Ridge on a weeknight.
I gave him my address, not sure if he needed anything else like intersections or directions. Although normally I wouldn’t have minded driving around for a while, I was still swirling with the excitement of having his hands on my skin, his body pressed to mine. Everything felt right.
I fiddled with the radio, asking what he liked, when his hand closed over mine and drew it down to the bench between us. “Let’s just talk, instead.”
It was said with such finality that it actually silenced me before I could regain my conversational skills. I watched him openly, blatantly. The shadows of West Ridge passed like whispers in the night. Plucking my hair with my free hand, I wondered if I should play with myself instead of leaning over the seats and trying to crawl right inside of him.
God, I was such a slut.
No, I remembered, looking out the window into the vague, blotted landscape.
I wasn’t.
5
Embrace
Standing just inside my house while Reed hesitated at the doorframe made my lungs crawl, desperate for air. “Come in for a coffee. You should let Milo enjoy his darts,” I pleaded, rubbing our joined hands against the frayed edge of my shorts, just the side. I didn’t want to seem desperate.
“I can’t.” The bulge in his throat and the dilation of his eyes said he might be convinced otherwise.
Maybe he wanted to take things slowly?
“I can even make you one of those dinners for two as a thank you for driving me.”
“You don't know how much I can eat.”
A watery sheen coated his eyes when he smiled, and it seemed he tried to swallow against some indecipherable feeling.
Maybe he was scared of what could happen. I was scared, too.
But we were worth it. I was worth love. We could be so good together.
My voice faded. “Stay.” His gaze flickered to my lips. “Please? You should stay.”
Looking pained, Reed shifted into the doorway, slowly moving towards me.
We were still safe.
Without reason or preamble, we shifted into an embrace. I cupped the back of his neck while he pushed at the seam between my shirt and shorts so he could touch my bare skin.
“I just want to...” He trailed off, murmuring into my hair.
“It’s okay. You can touch me.” I kissed his jaw in encouragement, needing to make him happy. “I want you to touch me.”
Still in each other’s arms, his chest flush against mine, we closed and locked the door, swaying softly to the rhythm of our song. It wasn’t playing. But I heard it, nonetheless.
His hands started moving, absently pushing my clothes off as he rubbed my skin. I moaned happily into his neck, pressing my smile into his skin.
He wanted me.
“God, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t—” His eyes squeezed shut, but he didn’t stop touching me. It was like if he couldn’t see it, he thought he could stop himself.
“Hey. Hey, it’s just me, Reedsy. You’re not gonna hurt me, right?”
His eyes flashed open and he nearly pushed me with his intensity. “I could hurt you, Betts. That’s the problem.”
“I’m not even a little worried about that possibility.”
“Maybe you should be. Being with me—it might not just be me, it’s my whole fucking life. This town. The Rattlers. The… madness that follows me.”
“I want to know everything,” I insisted, gripping the hands that ran over my hips, so needy. “You think I don’t have my own brand of crazy? Maybe our needs are complementary,” I teased, grateful for the little laugh that escaped him, making his whole expression warm and sweet.
“That’s what I’m thinking.” As he kneaded his thumb into my flesh, everything seemed to come together by design, his loving prints on my bones. He pressed his forehead against mine and the rest of the world faded.
Maybe we were both freaks.
“You’re just...” A little purr deep in my chest made me lean into him, put myself under his studious gaze, hoping he felt the reverence for me that I did for him. “New. There’s just a lot going on. I’m worried that this infatuation will fade for you. Or end really badly for me, as most things tend to do. I just don’t want you to have any regrets.”
Infatuation? Regrets?
I blinked, leaning back, feeling like he’d stolen the air right out of my lungs. “What?”
Did he know? Was I that obvious?
Groaning, he squeezed my body flush against him. “You know what I mean. I’m sorry. I just... this has never happened before. You’re beautiful.” He kissed my brow. “And smart.” His lips grazed the apples of my cheeks, lids growing heavy with want as he tried to drag his gaze from my mouth to my eyes. “But I’m not sure we know the extent of what we’re capable of—what this is capable of, with or without boundaries,” he murmured, rocking our bodies together.
“I just... I really like you.”
I didn’t want to cry. His palm smoothed my cheek, willing my tears not to fall. The beautiful, compassionate man against me made my heart beat hard, like it was being squeezed and twisted just so I could be closer to him.
“You’re the only person in town who I’ve met and felt like I needed to know everything about. I want all of you, Reed. Tonight.” Forever, if he’d let me.
I licked my lips, desperate for something else to say, but his focus seemed to crack, desperation leaking out.
“Betty…”
He pressed forward, his mouth sealing the wetness and words into silence.
I couldn’t get a grip on my thoughts, so I clung tighter to the man in my embrace.
It was tense at first, mostly jamming our hips together, his jaw flexing with every kiss. When I moaned, he loosened, gathering me up in a way that made me want him to fist my hair. I clung to the back of his jacket, jumping up and wrapping my legs around his waist. Fevered kisses lit up every nerve ending on my body. My back hit the wa
ll and my mouth opened on impact.
Before I could even breathe, he pulled my tongue into his mouth and sucked until I felt sparks under my skin. Our pace picked up quickly, grinding, his hands up my shirt and claiming every inch of skin he could reach. He tapped my thighs to release his waist and I landed with a nervous thump on the ground. In the process of trying to pull my shirt off, my bandana slid back, loose.
Reed paused, licking his lips, fevered by the sight of it. “You look like you really do belong with me.’
“I can keep it on,” I offered. “Trade?” I pushed at his jacket, swarmed in another kiss as his shoulders moved back to help slide the sleeves off. For a moment, I thought he was going to fling it to the ground, but he seemed to hesitate, throwing it with my cardigans and coats on a nearby rack.
“If you keep taking my clothes off, I’m going to fuck you right in this damn hallway without taking any more of them off. Is that what you want?” He panted, eyes bright and mouth parted. I knew what those perfect lips tasted like.
What if he just wanted to fuck around?
Exertion painted his cheeks a pretty pink. He pulled his bandana off his head and twisted it around his wrist, leaving behind a stunning head of hair that made my mouth water and palms burn.
Without answering, I took my shirt off, flushing with pride and confidence at the way his whole body coiled like an animal ready to spring. His shoulders rolled, muscles deliciously on display without that coat or a thick sweater to hide them.
My nails needed to plant my love into his back.
As I reached forward, he surprised me by taking my wrists and pulling them to his chest. “Looks like you need some help letting me take the lead,” he teased, kissing my cheek and neck before wrapping my wrists together with my bandana. We matched. His bandana on his right hand, mine bound together loosely with mine.
“This good, Betty?” he asked, kissing my jaw before pulling back to check on me. “This helping?”
“Yes.” I nodded, trying not to show how overcome I was. “Yes. Please.”
