by Rye Hart
I started moving my hips as I ran my hands up and down over the length of my body. I swished to the rhythm of a song I'd never heard before in my life because country music had never been my thing. But, truth be told, it had a nice, poppy beat to it. I had to admit, it wasn't what I usually thought country music to be – they didn't mention a single thing about pickup trucks or cheating wives, so that was a plus.
Dancing was always something I enjoyed, no matter the music. It had been too long since I'd gone out dancing with friends, and honestly, I missed it. As the music filled me, I closed my eyes, turning on the dance floor and felt the beat moving through me. I didn't care who saw me or what Chase thought of me, I just danced for myself. Danced for finding my freedom again. At last.
When the song ended, a slower, older country song came on. Something that would need a partner. I turned toward Chase and contemplated asking him. His brown eyes were locked on me and he was leaning his back against the bar, his legs spread, and my eyes moved down his chest until it locked on his crotch.
A visible erection was almost too obvious for me to deny, and color rushed into my cheeks as I saw that he bulged against his tight blue jeans while he watched me. It was a large bulge at that – one that made me feel woozy even thinking about.
I joined him at the bar again, trying my best not to look at what he was packing in his jeans – and failing miserably. When I finally tore my eyes away and looked up at him, I felt the heat flushing my cheeks seeing the wide smile on his face. He'd finished his second whiskey and Patsy had another drink waiting for me. I drank about half of it down in one gulp, dying of thirst from just the little bit of dancing I'd done. Sweat dripped from my brow and I wiped it away, hoping it explained the color in my face.
“Have fun out there?” he asked, a sleepy grin on his face.
“It would have been more fun if you'd joined me,” I teased.
“Sorry,” he said and shrugged. “Like I said, I don't dance.”
“Party pooper,” I said, playfully punching him in the arm.
The alcohol was hitting me, but only a bit, and only in the right ways. It was loosening me up more and more, and I was feeling good. Maybe even more like my real self. I no longer felt awkward or intimidated by Chase and, judging by the way he looked at me, he could see it too. I noticed that some of that sadness I'd seen in him earlier had vanished from his eyes.
Seeing that made me feel good. Like, maybe, him coming out with me tonight was good for him too.
I didn't know what got into me, maybe it was the booze, but I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his. A playful peck and nothing more. Or, so I thought, anyway. As I pulled away, a smile on my face, Chase grabbed the back of my head and pulled me into him. He pressed his mouth to mine, his tongue pushing its way past my teeth.
My entire body relaxed into him.
“Chase,” I muttered against his lips.
I was so taken aback by his kiss, but I couldn't deny that it felt good, that it felt right. Electricity coursed through my body, and I felt lightheaded. I wanted to keep kissing him, so I did. I grabbed onto his beard and pulled him back to me, my hands trailing along his jaw line and down to his chiseled chest. The muscles worked under his shirt, tightening as I ran my fingers over them.
God, he was so strong and good and kind – everything Paul hadn't been. Chase was a good man, a decent man, and I wanted him so badly. I wanted to experience something, anything with him. Another celebratory act of freedom from my abuser. Another step to reclaiming my life and myself. I wanted Chase then, right there in the bar, and part of me didn't care who knew.
From the way his mouth fed on mine, the heat and passion in his kiss, I could tell that he obviously wanted me too. I took his hand, and he knew what I wanted. He stood up and, together, we walked toward the back of the bar. He led the way into one of the single stall restrooms, and as soon as the door was closed behind us, he had me pressed up against the wall, pinning me to it with his hard, toned body.
“Fuck, I have been trying to resist you so hard,” he growled, his lips pressing against my neck.
His beard scratched against my skin as he kissed his way down my neck, trailing his lips down to my collarbone. At the same time, his hands moved up my thighs. The very pronounced bulge in his jeans pressed into my belly, hard and demanding.
I whimpered as he pushed himself into me, lifting me up as if I weighed nothing. Chase held me up, my feet dangling above the floor. I wrapped my legs around his waist as my hands reached for his buckle. Nothing else mattered in that moment except our bodies. The heat between us. The fire burning between my thighs.
I needed him inside of me right that goddamn minute.
I slipped a bit, and Chase grabbed onto my ass, holding me in place against the grimy brick wall. When we struggled to get his pants down, he carried me over to the sink and sat me down on the lip of it, taking a small step back. I slipped my hands down his pants and felt him for the first time, which made that hunger inside of me explode to life.
With wide eyes, I stared back at him, a smile curling my lips upward.
He was thick and long, and every bit as magnificent as I imagined him to be after seeing him at the bar, hard and ready for me earlier. Feeling him in my hand was an entirely different experience though, and I gripped him tight, stroking him a few times. As I jacked him off, he let out a soft moan and his eyes rolled back in his head.
My hand glided across his smooth skin, moving up and down his thick shaft. I watched the look of absolute pleasure roll across his face and just seeing that raw hunger in his eyes got me even wetter.
“Fuck me,” he growled.
“Yes, please,” I teased.
His eyes flew open and stared at me for a long second, his eyes burning with desire. There was so much heat in those deep, brown eyes of his, that it made the room around us feel even warmer. Sweat continued to build along my brow as he looked me up and down, drinking me in with his eyes. The pure lust I saw in his face made me quiver and weak in the knees. There was no doubt in my mind what he wanted to do with me – and I welcomed it wholeheartedly.
With his pants slipped down to his hips, he stepped toward the sink and pressed himself into me. His hard cock pressed against the warm wet center of me, fueling my own need. My panties kept him from entering me, but that was it. His hard cock pushed against the silky material, nearly slipping into me anyway. He groaned, a sound of ragged desperation rolling through his body. He kissed me long and hard as he reached down and slipped my panties aside. Then, with one, deep thrust, he parted my lips and buried himself into my warm, wet folds.
I cried out as he filled me up, a mix of pleasure and pain as he stretched me wide open and filled me up with his rigid cock. As the sensations rolled through my body, I let my head fall forward, resting it on his shoulder as my body got used to his size. He paused, giving us both a moment to adjust; a moment both of us spent enjoying the sensation of our bodies being united. When I looked into his eyes, he gave me a small grin and started rocking back and forth. Slowly, he slid from my depths, his cock sliding out almost completely, before he pumped his hips and pounded that stiff prick back into me, making the sink vanity shake like we were having an earthquake.
I wrapped my arms around Chase's neck, and my legs around his waist. I held on for dear life as he fucked me right there on the sink, pounding himself into me over and over again. My body adjusted to his in no time, taking his length and girth with ease, and soon enough, we were going at it hard and fast.
I bit down on his shoulder to drown out the screams that were building inside of me. It was probably unnecessary, given that my cries would probably be drowned out by the loud country music playing in the bar outside the bathroom door. Still, I wasn't going to take any chances. I shuddered hard, tightening my grip around his body, feeling utterly lost in the moment and controlled by the pleasure coursing through me. As he moved inside of me, it felt like me every nerve ending was on fire.
&nbs
p; “Yes, Chase, oh God,” I muttered, lifting my head and nibbling along his neck.
The scruff of his beard rubbed against my face, and I closed my eyes, breathing in his musky scent, feeling the passion exploding in me like bombs going off. His breathing was heavy and ragged as he continued fucking me with such precision and yet, such desperation. He grunted and groaned, a deep, rumbling sound in his throat, and I knew he was close.
As was I.
My pussy tightened around him as my climax hit me hard, making me push myself forward against him, taking that hard, glorious cock even deeper inside of me. Chase's lips met mine and I poured all my screams and cries of ecstasy into his mouth. He continued pumping his hips, making my legs quiver with the shockwaves of sensations moving through me.
Chase was also starting to tremble and there was a fevered, almost frantic look in his eyes. He held my hips down against the vanity with his large, calloused hands, as he thrust into me one last time. His mouth pulled away from mine, and I looked him in the eye as he grimaced and groaned.
“Oh, fuck yes,” he croaked. “Fuck yes, Abby.”
I knew there was no turning back. I felt his cock stiffen even more, a moment before it began to throb and pulse. He exploded inside of me, filling me with his hot, sticky seed. Together, we rode out the waves of pleasure consuming us, coming hard and loud, not even caring if anyone outside the bathroom heard us or not. All that mattered was the feeling. The sensation. The pleasure.
My body was still shaking when he slipped out of me, a warm rush of fluid following him, and his cock going flaccid against his body. He pulled up his pants and barely looked at me, seeming almost embarrassed or shy. But, when he did finally look at me, his eyes were wide and filled with both shock and fear.
“I'm sorry, Abby,” he said. “I shouldn't have – ”
I reached out to him, taking his cheek in my hand. “Chase, it's fine,” I said. “I wanted it. You have nothing to be sorry about.”
“We – we shouldn't have done that,” he growled.
“Why not?” I said, slipping down from the sink.
My panties slipped back into place as I moved, thankfully, catching more of his warm seed as it slid out of me. It felt so nice, and yet, I hated seeing Chase all torn up about what had happened. Hated seeing the regret in his eyes.
“If you're worried I'm going to tie you down or expect too much, you don't have to worry,” I say. “I'm actually not looking for a boyfriend.”
He shook his head, muttering under his breath. “I'm sorry,” he said. “I just can't.”
“Chase,” I said, stepping in front of him before he could leave the restroom. “Chill out. It's okay. We had sex. Big deal. There's nothing wrong with two people letting loose and having a little fun. There's nothing wrong with two grown, consenting adults enjoying one another's bodies. God knows, we could apparently both use it.”
His face softened as he stared down into my eyes, but it was gone a moment later. Gone, like it had never been. He shook his head again, wiping his hand across his face, making a dry, scratchy sound against his beard. The sadness I'd seen in him before was back. Worse than that, it seemed to have tripled in its intensity. He was distant, so far away from here, and I had no idea how to bring him back to me.
“Chase, please, let's talk.”
“There's nothing to talk about, Abby. I'm going for a walk,” he said.
He pushed past me and headed for the door, but paused before going through it.
“I'm sorry,” he muttered, his back still to me, before walking out and letting the door close behind him.
CHAPTER FIVE
CHASE
“Patsy, can you do me a favor?” I asked, stopping at the bar.
“Sure, doll. Anything for you,” she said as she grabbed a rag and started wiping down the counter.
“I'm a little too drunk to drive,” I said. “Think you can give Abby a ride home? Or maybe just call somebody to come get her for me?”
“Sure,” she said, speaking slowly, her eyes darting behind me. “Think we should ask your friend first?”
I turned on my heels and found Abby standing there, staring at me. Her lower lip trembled, and her eyes were filled with pain. I hated hurting her. Hated seeing the pain in her eyes. I shouldn't have let myself lose control with her. I should have been better about resisting my urges. She didn't deserve to be used like that and I couldn't feel like a bigger asshole than I did at that moment.
My heart ached as she stared back at me with those deep, blue eyes, and I knew I needed to stay away from her. For her sake, not mine. She didn't deserve to be saddled with somebody as fucked up as I was.
“Patsy is going to drive you home,” I said, making sure my voice was low and calm. I couldn't meet her eyes anymore though. “I'm going to walk home. I've had too much to drink and need to clear my head.”
“I'll walk with you,” she countered.
“It's fine,” I said. “I'd actually rather be alone for a bit, anyway.”
She didn't argue after that – and for that, I was grateful. I left her in Patsy's care, knowing that Patsy would make sure she got home okay. I'd know that woman for as long as I'd lived in Lynnwood. She was a good woman. Kind. Generous. Caring. She was the closest thing I had to a mother, and one of the few people I'd let inside the high, thick walls I used to keep myself safe – even if it was just the tiniest bit. I exited the bar, throwing open the door and stepped out into the night, grateful for the dry, hot air that hit my face. I took a deep breath and exhaled, forcing my shoulders to relax. Part of me wanted to turn around, go back into the bar, and go after Abby. That part of me wanted to grab her, pull her to me, and kiss her again.
God, her lips tasted so damn good, and her tight little body did things to me I never knew possible. Then again, it had been far too long since I'd been with a woman. Especially a woman I actually liked the way I like her. Which was why she was better off if I let her be. The last thing I wanted was to bring her any more pain or ruin her life.
It might hurt for now, but she was better for it. I had no doubt about that. She might not see it now, but she would see it eventually.
As I walked through the parking lot, my head filled with a million different thoughts, all disjointed and fragmented, I noticed an unfamiliar car parked outside. Though the windows were dark and tinted, I could see one man sitting inside the car behind the wheel. He caught me staring, so I looked away quickly, not wanting him to think I was someone he should start a conversation with. The mystery car was a blue Toyota Camry that was bearing California plates. Huh. Didn't see a lot of those in these parts. Must be passing through. Of course, Lynnwood was a strange place to be passing through, but not my business. I didn't give the car a second glance though, as I continued walking through the parking lot. My boots hit the hard top and it felt good to be outside, to be breathing in the fresh night air, and to be walking, instead of driving. Especially after everything that had just happened. I needed to clear my head.
Abby was a good, sweet girl, and I hated what I did to her. I'd enjoyed the hell out of it but hated that she was hurting because of it. Because of me. But, she'd get over it. She'd get over it a lot better than if I had strung her along and made her believe there could be something between us. That would have been cruel and unfair. I was an asshole, but I was not that big of an asshole.
I knew that fucking her in the first place, was wrong. I just couldn't help myself. Seeing her dancing, that smile on her face, the way she moved her hips – it was too damn hot. It was more than I could bear. She was the type of girl I knew I could get attached to, if I let myself. Which was about the furthest thing from what I needed. She might not realize it just yet, but it wasn't what she needed either.
I wasn’t what anyone needed. Hell, if Cody had been alive, he'd have told me to enjoy myself anyway. Not knowing somebody shouldn't have been reason enough to not fuck them, he would have said. She was a pretty, young thing and wasn't looking to settle down. He'
d have told me I was being a fool if I passed that up. Yet, where was Cody now? Gone. Dead. His life taken by his own hand.
He wasn't the first person in my life that I'd lost, but he would be the last. I was on a mission to guarantee that. People around me had a way of dying, and I was tired of it. Call it a curse. Call it bad luck. Hell, I don't know what to call it exactly, other than fucked up.
Whatever it was though, it seemed like everyone who got close to me ended up dead. My parents. My best friend. Cody. All of them gruesome, unnatural deaths too. Like I attracted danger, wherever I went. Like I had the Grim Reaper on speed dial or something. Nobody ever seemed safe when I was around.
I wasn't about to pull Abby into my mess.
The walk home was peaceful and gave me a lot of time to think and get shit in my head squared away. I knew the way home by heart, and this wasn't the first time I'd walked home from the bar by myself after dark. The fact that Abby lived in his old house – the first person to do so since Cody's death – brought out a lot of baggage I wasn't prepared to deal with. I hated driving down that road to her house, remembering all those drunken nights Cody and I sat on his porch, drinking a few, and shooting the shit together.
My buddy was gone. One of many. I'd lost more than my fair share of others in the war, including my best friend, Jason. It never got any easier.
Which was why I'd made a promise to myself – never let anyone else in again. Not ever. That way I'd never have to go through the pain of losing them.
~ooo000ooo~
Two days had passed since I'd fucked her in the bathroom at the bar, and while part of me expected to see Abby's little blonde head bouncing around my property, she never showed up. Honestly, I figured that was a good thing. Probably for the best. I figured, she realized what a mistake it'd been for us to have sex in the first place, and that she thought it best that we go our separate ways.
However, on that second day, I kept looking for her. Every time I was out in the field – even while I was riding Phoenix – I kept checking for her walking along the road. She'd have to go into town again sometime soon, right? I wouldn't want her walking alone. There was a part of me that didn't want to see her again, just in case she wanted to talk about the other night at the bar. But, I was also growing worried about her.
