by Erin Noelle
Squealing ensues as Emmy Sue leaps out of her seat and bounces over to Dakota, rambling on and on about how awesome the next two weeks are going to be and how this is the next best thing to the honeymoon she’s having to postpone. There’s no way in hell she’ll be able to deny Emmy Sue now, unless for some reason she truly can’t go.
Most importantly, Gabe is pushed off to the side and forced to strike up conversation with Meghan—who is now giving me the evil eye. Once Emmy Sue returns to her chair, I stare straight ahead, waiting for Dakota’s response.
Our eyes meet and hers flicker with amusement. You’re a bully, Hulk.
I take what I want. My arrogant smirk speaks for itself.
And you want my hands?
Shaking my head, my lids fall heavy at the mere thought of everything I want from her. I want every single inch, Sunshine.
She pats her napkin around her mouth then lays it across her plate before standing up. Excusing herself to everyone else, she turns to walk away, but not before catching my gaze one last time.
I’ll bring extra massage oil.
SUNDAY, JUNE 17
I’VE GOT TO GET OUT of here . . . I’ve got to get out of here . . . I’ve got to get out of here . . .
I continue to repeat the mantra in my head as I excuse myself from the morning-after breakfast, hurrying to gather my stuff from the room and leave the hotel as quickly as possible. I’m desperate to put some real estate between me and Levi, a breather from the intense reaction he causes inside me.
The control he has over my body, over my thoughts, is alarming. The constant desire to either slap or kiss the permanent smirk off his ruggedly handsome face consumes me when I’m around him. The push-and-pull between us comes way too easy, and to be quite honest, it unnerves me.
Unfortunately, I don’t make it to my parents’ house before I get a text from Emilia.
Emilia: Meet me in front of Valley Girl Boutique at 3:00. I need to pick up a few things before I pack tonight. I’ll give you a quick rundown of what to expect on the trip.
With the bus leaving tomorrow morning, I don’t have a lot of time to make a decision about whether I’m actually going to go. Truth is, I do want to go. With classes on break for the next three weeks, I have no binding plans or responsibilities other than hanging out with my family a bit. The thought of a road trip to New Orleans with an old friend, her sweet husband, and a hot-as-fuck motocross rider who promises big things in bed sounds like my kind of party.
My only concern is that Levi and I may kill each other before the two weeks is up, either fucking ourselves into a coma or one of us throwing the other out of the moving bus. I can see both as a real possibility. Something tells me that two fiery personalities like ours may burst into uncontrollable flames if we’re cooped up in a bus together for an extended period of time.
But I’ve never been one to shy away from a risky adventure, especially if the upside involves mind-blowing orgasms. And as the image from the night before of massaging Levi’s bare shoulders and back while feeling the tight muscles of his ass under my naked pussy fills my mind, my decision is made for me.
The last thing I ever want to feel is regret for not doing something I had the opportunity to experience. Worst-case scenario, it’s two weeks of hell, but at the very least, I get to visit some places I’ve never been before. Best-case, the sky’s the limit.
Me: Sounds good. See you then.
“Why didn’t you tell me when you came back to the reception that Levi had invited you to go on the road trip with us? Were you not sure if you wanted to go? You know this is a big-ass deal, right?” The moment Emilia releases me from a welcoming embrace out in front of the trendy Main Street boutique, she wastes no time beginning her inquisition.
I don’t answer right away as I follow her into the shop, the bell on the door noisily announcing our entrance to the staff and other shoppers. Everyone briefly looks up at where we stand then refocus on whatever they were doing, leaving us on our own to browse the racks.
“So?” She nudges my shoulder, grinning mischievously over at me. “Are you going to tell me what happened in his room to make the elusive James ’501’ Levi invite a chick to go on a two week trip with him, when he usually doesn’t let anyone spend the night? Do you know some secret vagina voodoo magic or something?”
Shrugging, I thumb through a row of sheer black tops, trying my best not to overanalyze her words ‘elusive’ and ‘doesn’t let anyone spend the night’. “Honestly, I didn’t think he’d remember that he asked. I was giving him a massage and he was half-asleep, mumbling, so I assumed it was the meds talking. At the time, I didn’t think he was serious.”
Her jaw falls open as her big brown eyes grow even bigger. “You were giving him a massage? Like rubbing your hands all over his skin?”
“Yeah, why?” My forehead crinkles with confusion. “What’s the big deal? It’s what I’m going to school for, and I used some oils that helped him relax and—”
Holding her hand up to stop me, she shakes her head with a sharp laugh. “I didn’t mean anything by my comments; it’s just that Levi is usually kinda funny about people touching him. Like in the year or so that I’ve known him, he’s only ever hugged me and Gunner. Even girls he hooks up with, the exchange is typically very . . . purposeful. No displays of affection or false pretenses. He’s there to bust a nut—and once he’s done, he moves on.”
“Wow, what a gentleman,” I grumble, moving over to a group of rompers, the bright yellow one covered in orange pineapples catching my eye.
“That’s the thing. He’s totally not a gentleman, but he never pretends to be anything but himself.” Wandering over to some denim shorts, she picks up a pair of the frayed ass-huggers and holds them up in front of her then does the same thing with a stonewashed pair. Back and forth, she alternates them in front of the mirror before tossing them both down with a sigh. “Like I told you when I introduced you to him at Ember, he’s an unapologetic cocky asshole, but when you get past his hard outer layers, he’s really an incredible guy.”
After I add a couple of shirts to the pile of clothes already folded over my forearm, I sidle up next to her and snatch the first pair of shorts she’d chosen, thrusting them into her hands with a wink. “Emilia, I’m super stoked about the trip. I think at first I was a little overwhelmed, but now I’m just excited. However, I want you to know I’m going simply to have a good time . . . to party . . . to live like I’m twenty-two. I don’t do serious shit, and the only layers of James Levi’s I plan on peeling back are his clothes. Now, tell me what all I need to pack for this summer getaway.”
Thankfully, she chills out with the interrogation and we fall right back into the easygoing friendship we shared back in our teenage years. While we try on everything from bikinis to cocktail dresses, Emilia talks about how the first time she saw Gunner was at a party in Vail and thought he was the strangest guy she’d ever met. She shakes her head in disbelief. “ . . . and now I’m married to the guy! What can I say? He’s quite persuasive.” She nudges me with her shoulder as she whispers the last part.
That conversation naturally leads to Levi’s place in their life, her fondness of him shining through on her warm, heart-shaped face. “He’s the only real family Gunner’s ever had. They’re more like brothers than cousins, meaning they bicker and talk shit nonstop, but they’re fiercely protective and would kill for each other. Spending the last year on tour with the two of them, we all got really . . . close.”
She stops talking to retrieve a credit card from her wallet to pay for her purchases, but not before I pick up on a roguish gleam in her tawny eyes. Parting my lips to ask about her peculiar expression, I wisely close them before any words slip through. It’s none of my business what relationship or feelings she may or may not share with Levi.
Two weeks of fun. That’s it.
I manage to stuff my things into a full-sized suitcase and one rather large duffel bag. Narrowing down what clothes and shoes make th
e final cut is a tough, lengthy process, but eventually, at one-thirty in the morning, I close the last zipper, turn the lights out, and face-plant onto Hudson’s bed. Thank God my sister never stays at home anymore.
Sleep claims me before I can finish my standard nightly prayer, and after what seems like only five minutes, the alarm on my phone is shrilling in my ear, yelling that it’s time to wake up. Pushing the covers to the side, I pop out of bed and head straight to the shower, eager to get on the road and see what the next fifteen days of my life will be like.
After scrubbing and shaving every inch of my five-foot-nothing body, I let my hair dry naturally, long and wavy, then apply a light coat of mascara to my blond lashes. A healthy layer of shimmery coconut gloss on my lips pairs perfectly with the pineapple-scented lotion and body spray I’m addicted to. Living where subzero temperatures and blizzards are the norm, I infuse as much tropical beach vacation as I can into my life.
Cutoff denim shorts that are longer than daisy dukes but not quite soccer-mom-appropriate hang low on my hips, inches below the belly ring I got on my sixteenth birthday. The small silver barbells through my nipples are concealed by a white cami with a built-in shelf-bra, which is all the support I need for my nearly-a-handful twin mounds. A bright orange, oversized tank top with the words “Do Epic” printed in white across the chest hangs loosely over the undershirt, perfecting the comfortable but cute outfit.
Balancing my sunglasses on top of my head, I stuff my phone and wallet inside my fringed camel crossbody and grab my bags. I said my goodbyes to my parents last night, since they’d be over at the lodge this morning with the resort guests. And even though I detected a small amount of disappointment about me leaving as soon as I got here, they wished me a good time and reminded me to check in every couple of days so they wouldn’t worry.
Grams, however, is waiting for me in the kitchen as I make my way down the hall, just like I knew she would be. There was no way I could get out of here without some piece of her always interesting advice. I honestly don’t know where she comes up with half the shit she says, but it’s never fails to entertain.
“Morning, Grams.” I kiss her cheek as I open the refrigerator to grab a soda and an apple. “I think I’m just about ready to go. The bus is supposed to swing by and pick me up in about fifteen minutes. I left the keys to my Jeep in the key bowl if anyone needs them.”
“Perfect, honey. Don’t you worry about a thing; just have a good time, like people your age should,” she replies, grabbing something off the countertop.
Then, turning back around to face me, she hands me a giant Tupperware container filled with homemade cookies and brownies baked with her special form of TLC—THC—and a bag of disposable razors. “Chocolate, cannabis, and a cleanly shaved cunny are the way to win and keep a man’s heart, my dear Dakota. This should be enough for your trip, and when you get back, I’ll teach you the recipe so you can keep feeding him when he comes back for more.”
I’m not sure exactly how to respond to her declaration. Instead, I simply nod and take the things she’s giving me.
“Oh!” She sticks her finger in the air as she remembers something else. “And we’ll make you an appointment for a bikini wax when you return as well. I didn’t get a chance to schedule one for you, since this happened so quickly, but he’ll be hungry for more of that too!”
Wow. Just when I think she can’t shock me anymore, she pulls out cleanly shaved cunny.
A long, deep horn sound from outside saves me from any further mortification, and I whisper a quick thank you prayer to the heavens. Pulling Grams into a tight goodbye hug, I plant another smack on her cheek with my lips. “Thanks for everything, Grams. I love you. And even though I don’t need any stinky ol’ boy’s heart, there’s no need to worry. I keep her majesty, Elizabeth, bald and smooth all the time.”
Amusement dances in her violet eyes as she shakes her finger and tsk-tsks me through the foyer and out the front door. “Go! Shoo! Take your queen and go get her crowned!” she shouts at me as I cross the yard to where Emilia, Gunner, and Levi are waiting for me in the front drive.
In addition to the obnoxiously gigantic tour bus that’s solid black except for the bright red logo of some energy drink on the side of it, there is also a black Suburban pulling a trailer that matches the bus. It all looks pretty ritzy, and my fears of having to possibly camp in the desert of New Mexico are alleviated. I’m not really a high-maintenance girl, but no mattress and no running water are hard limits in my traveling contract.
“Hey, guys, welcome to Rocky Mountain marijuana paradise. These bags are heavy as shit. Don’t worry; I packed us some free samples of the best stuff. Which bed is mine?”
My arms tremble—whether from the heavy luggage, or the nervous anxiety tripping through my system, I’m not sure.
“Mornin’, Sunshine.” He strides toward me, brushing his thick, dark locks out of his eyes as a lazy smirk flits across his scruffy face. Bending slightly at the knees, he transfers the luggage from my hands to his then leans into my neck and whispers, “Your bags go in my room, gorgeous girl, but I can’t promise you we’ll be doin’ much sleepin’.”
My entire body trembles at his promising words, and without wasting another minute, I take off for the bus, calling out over my shoulder, “Last one in has to do a shot!”
MONDAY, JUNE 18
SHE THINKS SHE’S SO FUCKING cute, bouncing around in the captain’s chair, holding a bottle of high-dollar tequila in her lap, and taunting me with her smug, triumphant grin. She thinks she’s won at some little game. Ha! Sunshine’s about to learn how things work on this bus.
After taking my sweet-ass time putting her bags away in my room, I return to the common area, where all three of them are sitting . . . waiting . . . brimming with anticipation to see what I’m going to say or do. Shit, I’m excited to see how this is all going to play out. We haven’t been on the bus five minutes and, already, we’re going to have a battle of wills. I hope she’s up for the challenge.
Reaching up into the cabinet over the fridge, I pull out a shot glass and the tequila salt, setting them both on the countertop. I turn to face Dakota and flash her my most charming, boy-next-door smile, the one that gets me most anything I want, before tapping my fingers on top of the dinette table.
“Gonna need you up here, Sunshine,” I drawl, silently relishing her expression as it shifts from victorious to confused.
“You need what?” she balks, narrowing her eyes at me. “Why do you need me up there?”
“You mean you didn’t hear me?” I glance over at Emmy Sue and Gunner, doing my best to keep a straight face. “You guys heard me, right?”
Gunner nods, his forehead creased with feigned seriousness while Emmy Sue erupts in a fit of giggles on the couch. Rolling my eyes, I refocus my gaze on Dakota.
“Well, gorgeous, if you want me to drink any of that tequila you’re holdin’ there, you’re gonna need to crawl your pretty lil self up on this table. If you’d listened instead of running off, you might have heard the deal.”
Chewing the corner of her bottom lip, she glances over at her friend, probably hoping for some sort of guidance. There’s no question she’s going to be naked in my bed sooner rather than later, so her decision isn’t truly about the body shot. No, this little pain in the ass wants to set a precedent. She wants to be the one in control.
She’s not.
“What do you think, Emmy Sue?” I ask the question for her. “This a good idea Dakota and I came up with? Every time during the entire trip that we load up for a new city, the first one in is the body base, and the last one in takes the shot. No exceptions.”
Emmy Sue’s face lights up at the prospects of this little game, the little freak in her dying to come out and play, and I know I have her vote. “I think it sounds . . . intriguing.” Licking her lips, she waggles her eyebrows suggestively at Gunner. “You in, babe?”
“Hell yeah, I’m in!” Gunner is a red-blooded male on a bus with
his hot-ass wife and her sexy friend. Of course he’s in . . . even if it means he and I have to struggle through a couple of body shots off each other throughout the trek. We’ve shared a girl in bed more than once before, so we’re confident enough in our hetero-masculinity around each other.
Standing up from the chair, Dakota doesn’t say a word as she hands me the bottle and climbs up on the table, lying flat on her back. She gathers her long blonde waves over one shoulder and exhales a deep breath, her chest rising and falling with the action. My cock swells as I watch.
Fuck yes!
Not wanting to gloat too long in my win, I swiftly grab a lime from the fridge and cut it into wedges then fill a small clear glass with the clear liquor. As I spin back around, I catch a glimpse of our eager, wide-eyed audience of two before fixing my attention back on the beauty laid out before me.
“So how’s this gonna go, Hulk? Do you need—?”
I shove a lime wedge into her mouth midsentence, effectively shutting her up. Then, I wink at her. Her blue eyes flare with a mixture of lust and defiance.
“I’ll tell you exactly how it’s gonna go. First, we’re pretending that lime I just put between your teeth is a gag, which will hopefully keep your smart mouth quiet long enough for me to do this.” Pausing, I grab the salt off the counter then push the bottom hem of her shirt up to expose her flat, tanned stomach, cute little belly ring and all. It took every ounce of restraint not to jump the gun and run my tongue along it.
“Next, I’m going to lick some of this salt off your stomach before I swallow down that shot right there, suck the juice out of that fruit in your mouth, and then carry your sweet ass to my bed and do what I should’ve done four days ago. How does that sound, Sunshine?”
