by H. J. Bellus
***
3 Hours Later in the middle of nowhere…
“Why did you come back for me, Miles?”
Miles is silent. His knuckles turn white as he grips the steering wheel with everything he has.
“Talk to me, Miles,” I plead with everything I have.
“I came back because I want you. I need you,” he says with his eyes solely on the wide open road that lies before us.
I follow his lead and stare at the land before us. This road is my future, as is Miles. I don’t care what he has to tell me, nothing will deter me from him. Just like that obnoxious double yellow line that never gives up on guiding travelers on their journey, I too will never give up on him.
I carefully slide over to the center seat, pull my clear shimmery lip gloss from my bag and apply it. I kiss Miles’ cheek, leaving behind his favorite shimmery imprint. That gets a little grin from my boy. Before tossing my bag in the back seat, I grab our jumbo bag of Skittles from it and plop them in my lap, then I pull on Miles’ black hoodie, covered in his scent. I lay my head on Miles’ shoulder, and let out a loud sigh.
“I’ll wait for you,” I tell him, plain and simple.
Ten very silent and awkward minutes go by. Yes, ten, I have watched each one pass on my phone. Miles slows down Black Beauty and pulls to the side of the road. He drops his head to the steering wheel in defeat then violently slams his fists down on the dashboard.
“Fuck this. I fucking hate life sometimes. Why can’t it ever be simple? You know the house, the white picket fence, and the dog to kick.”
I grab for his closest hand and hold it, “Dammit, Miles! Just talk already. For Christ’s sake, are you a wanted felon, an axe murder, a registered sex offender? What is it? What’s so bad that you’re torturing yourself?”
Miles finally picks his head up, and the look of sheer terror on his face breaks my heart.
“Miles, you’re hurting me without talking,” I whisper. “And it’s starting to scare me.”
He reaches over for me and pulls me onto his lap. My ass lands on the horn, so Miles carefully readjusts our bodies. We both can’t help from letting out a little giggle at the sight of us and the sound of the horn.
“Just think of the boner you could pop in this position,” I tease him, and then I place a kiss on his forehead.
I remove both his hands from my ass and interlock our fingers together. Our fingers fit together perfectly. Every time we hold hands, I’m just that much more convinced that we were created for each other. My lips kiss each one of his knuckles, and by the tenth I tell him, “Just hold my hand, Miles.”
“Willow, you were right—there is another woman in my life.”
Those words steal my breath away, but I don’t allow my body to flinch or take flight.
“Unclench your butt cheeks—it’s my mom. She’s dying. She’s an awful rotten human being, but she’s my mom. Her name is Sarah, and I should hate her, but I don’t. It’s my job to take care of her. Willow, you have to promise to still love me after this.”
Without hesitation, I whisper, “I promise.”
Still holding his hands, he continues. “I grew up in a trailer park. I was born in Nevada. My mom moved us to California when I was five. We moved there to be with her boyfriend of the month. He dumped her shortly after we arrived, and she found another and then another one. Our trailer was the revolving door for men, drugs, and alcohol.”
Miles takes a slight pause, and without thinking, I ask, “What does any of this have to do with us or you mysteriously leaving every couple weeks?”
“I came to The Shop that day looking for Milly,” he quietly whispers.
I’m not sure why, but my body starts to produce tears that leak down my face. I grip on tighter to his hands, a silent signal to him that I’m not letting go. I’m holding his hand.
“Why?” I whisper.
“I came for her, but found you, Willow. I found you. I’ve been used by everyone in my life. I have been beat like a dog by my mom’s endless boyfriends. I fought to survive every day of my life until I met you. Jesus Christ, babe, I fought in backyards to make money just to eat. Willow, you take away all that pain and show me what normal life looks like, but the cold hard truth is that I’m the boy from the wrong side of the tracks who was raised in the trailer park, and I don’t deserve you or this life.”
My tears spill harder, if that’s even possible. Miles gently wipes away the tears one at a time.
“Why Milly?” I whisper again.
“She’s my sister.”
“She’s your what? No, it can’t be,” I stutter out.
Miles just silently shakes his head.
“You tricked me,” I accuse in utter horror.
Every ounce of betrayal from Greyson comes instantly rushing back into my fragile system. Miles did the same thing to me. He’s a liar and used me to get close to Milly.
“You used me,” I whisper.
“Jesus Christ, Willow. I knew you would do this. Just freak the fuck out without thinking. What the fuck have I used you for? My mom is dying. I’ve had to hear about an elusive sister that I’ve never met my whole life. Had to hear how sorry my mom felt for leaving her. I had to fucking hear about this while being beat and burnt by her countless boyfriends. If bringing her home will help my mom pass on in peace, then I need to do it, and if your petty little brain classifies that as using, then I guess I used you and you need to call your brothers to come rescue you.”
“But why didn’t you tell me earlier and why haven’t you told her?”
“Because for once in my life I was living my life and enjoying it my way. I found you and felt happy, like really happy. I’ve always had to be a caregiver and survive on my own until you. And now my past that I have no control over just ruined us.”
Miles reaches into his pocket and hands me his cell phone. “Go ahead and call your brother. I’ll wait here until he picks you up, but please just give me these next couple hours to be with you.”
I take the phone from him and dial Cree’s number. As I wait for him to answer, Miles drops his head to my chest, so I rest my chin on the top of his head.
“Cree, it’s Wils.”
Silence.
“I need to tell you something very important. You remember that time when you told me that I would find a man that was worthy of calling me Wils?”
Silence.
“Well, I found him at mile marker 261 on hwy 22 today.”
I snap the phone shut and smile.
“You have a lot of issues, Miles, but I’m a better person when I’m with you. If you want Cree to pick up my petty little brain, you have to call him yourself.”
Miles slowly picks up his head. I grab both sides of his face, placing my fingers on his scruff. The scruff that I have fantasized about petting and licking while Miles lies naked in front of me for weeks now, and I just smile at him.
“You’re not leaving?” he whispers.
“Miles, I choose you. I want to be with you. Hold your hand. Watch you eat Cap’n Crunch in your tighty whities. We can work through the rest, Miles. You are my sweet, sweet boy.”
“Why didn’t you tell him?”
“It’s not my place. You’ll do it when we get back.”
“They’re gonna hate me after I tell them, you know?”
“Possibly. But I have faith in my family. They may get upset, but they’ll accept you.”
“They’ll never forgive me.”
“Forgive you for what? Being born to a shitty mother, and having a horrible childhood? Miles, you have done nothing wrong, baby. I love you, and I’m here forever.”
“I’m going to kiss you now,” he whispers into my mouth as he places his lips on mine.
I melt. Instantly melt into Miles, allowing him to devour my mouth. His lips are soft and delicious, and his scruff is strangely comforting rubbing against my tender skin. Miles deepens the kiss and enters my mouth with his tongue. A low groan escapes him when he does. The s
ound is hot and full of need. My hips instantly start to dance in his lap.
I bite down on his bottom lip and growl into his mouth. “Baby, I can feel that boner.”
Miles doesn’t slow down. His tongue slides right back into my mouth and doesn’t miss a beat. He continues worshiping my mouth one lick and flick at a time. This time, I let out a sensual groan as I begin to explore his mouth. Miles’ large rough hands sneak into my shirt and run the length of my back. My senses are on overdrive with his touch, honesty, and tongue.
I can’t handle one more throb of pleasure from this man without combusting. I throw my head back, thrust my breasts forward, and let out a loud, exhausting groan of pleasure. Miles bucks his hips up, meeting my wet core. I can feel every inch of his desire pressing against me, hard and ready. He reaches forward and bites down hard on my breast through my shirt.
“I want you,” I whisper, need clouding my voice.
The sight of Miles’ mouth around my nipple sets me completely on fire with need for the man. My man.
“Miles, you are mine. Mine. You are mine,” I yell at him as my hips continue to ride his jean-clad erection.
Tears start to slip from me at the thought of Miles not being mine. Panic grips at my belly and more tears fall the longer he is silent.
“Baby, I’m yours. I’m all yours, Wils,” Miles finally whispers.
He grabs me by the hips to stop my movement. I look at him in confusion and a slight twinge of embarrassment dances across my face. Before I can protest, he covers my mouth with his, kissing me with everything he has, in a slow, unhurried fashion. I first hear and then feel my pants being undone. Miles’ finger snaps my panty line, causing a slight sting on my skin. Then his fingers glide down deeper and he hits the spot. My hips instinctively start to ride him again, but he stops me with his free hand.
“Let me take care of you, Willow. You don’t have to beg for my love or scramble to hold onto shreds of it. Willow, that’s the only love you know. Let me show you how to be loved, baby,” Miles says as he reaches forward and kisses my bare neck.
I lean back onto the steering wheel, laying myself before Miles, baring all my fears, weaknesses, and insecurities for him to prey on. He pushes up my shirt and trails kisses up his favorite part of my body. When he reaches my bra, he uses his teeth to bare my breasts. Miles lets out a loud grunt and completely buries his finger inside me. If even possible, I arch my back further with my head thrown back and let out a scream.
I scream with the purest pleasure I have ever experienced. Miles starts to work his hand in and out of me while paying close attention to my sensitive bud. Miles leans forward and starts to suck on the front of my neck. His tongue continues to caress my neck while his hand works my core.
“Miles, oh God, Miles! I’m going to—”
My words are harshly cut off as I spiral out of control. My orgasm hits me so hard that I scream and grab Miles by the hair with all my force. I have never felt such anguished blissful sensations with an orgasm. Greyson has nothing on Miles. My body instantly slumps down into Miles’ lap.
“Oh. My. God,” I breathe. “Can we do that again?”
Miles starts to chuckle and move his fingers in me. Every single sensation of my last release tingles throughout my whole body with the movement of his fingers.
“I can do this all day, baby,” Miles says as he picks up the pace with his fingers and guides my hips to ride him again.
“Excuse me, ma’am, is everything okay?” comes a very strange deep voice.
The voice instantly snaps me out of my hormone induced Miles coma. My eyes land on an elderly gentleman dressed in a farmer’s outfit.
“Uh, sorry, ma’am. My wife and I were out picking asparagus and heard you screaming. She insisted that I come over and check on you. You just say the word and I’ll signal for her to call the police. She’s ready with her cell phone,” the stranger says while he assesses the situation.
Horror. Sheer humiliation and horror instantly wash over me. Miles is sitting straight up now and looking the good Samaritan straight in the eyes. I bury my face in Miles’ neck on the opposite of the stranger, hoping, just like a toddler does, that if I can’t see him, then he can’t see me.
“Miles, do something, please. Miles. Miles, Miles,” I whisper into his neck.
The asshole starts to laugh with my desperate plea for help. I really doubt he would think it was so funny if it had been his boobie bared to Farmer John. I sucker punch him in the gut to get his attention to focus on solving the damn problem in front of us. He lets out an exaggerated grunt of pain when I land the punch.
Then he starts to speak. “Sir, you have this all wrong. I’m so happy help finally arrived. I offered to give this young lady a ride in my car,” he says, definitely over emphasizing the word ride, “when I came upon her hitchhiking. I refused her money, but she insisted she pay me back somehow.” Miles shrugs his shoulders and waggles his eyebrows.
He wiggles his fingers inside me and shoots me a wink. Oh, two can play this little evil game. I carefully place my Jenny boobie back into her holder, and sit straight up.
“Really? Is that why your hand is in my cookie jar?” I ask, and point to the evidence.
“Oh, dear. I see,” the farmer stammers out. “By all means, young man. I woulda given her a ride, too.” The very amused farmer walks away just shaking his head.
“Miles,” I squeal, and smack his chest.
He wraps his arms around me and pulls me close. It’s so easy to fall into him.
“I think I found my favorite spot in the world,” I mumble into his chest.
“Oh yeah? Where might that be, baby?”
“In your arms, Miles.”
Kissing the top of my head, he whispers, “I love you grande, Wils.”
Stunned, I look him in the eyes and ask, “Why did you say that?”
“Uh, because that’s how I feel.”
“Oh,” I simply reply.
“Willow you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“My momma use to tell me that every night,” I whisper.
“Oh baby, I had no idea. Really…”
I place my fingers over his lips to quiet him, and then whisper, “My momma always knew.”
Miles sucks the tip of my finger into his mouth and waggles his eyebrows at me. I can’t hold back the giggle escaping me. Then he starts talking around my finger. “She knew you were going to fall madly in love with an overgrown boy who devours Cap’n Crunch in his tighty whiteys, supplies you with endless fortune cookies, and makes grown women cry with his devastating good looks?”
“She knew,” I say as I slip my finger from his mouth and put it in mine to lick off his taste.
Miles lets out a low groan and thrusts his hips up into me. I drag my finger from my mouth down to my nipples and gently squeeze them. Right when I think Miles is going to pass out from the seductive show, I hop off his lap and slide to my side of the car.
“Now drive, asswipe. My boyfriend is waiting for me in the next town. I told him it would only take a couple hours to hitch a ride to him.”
“Are you shitting crazy, Willow? And here I thought you were a victim. You know a boner this size left unattended for long periods of time can cause blindness.”
“I’ll take my chances,” I giggle.
Miles grabs my left thigh and drags me over to the center seat. “If you’re mine now, you’ll always be riding bitch twenty-four seven.”
“Did you just call me a bitch?”
Miles lets out a loud laugh.
“Miles, seriously, you just called me a bitch. You really are going to start out our road trip out by calling me your bitch, you asshole?” I ask in horror.
Wiping the tears from his eyes, he replies through more streams of laughter, “Baby, you are riding bitch. I didn’t call you a bitch. You know riding bitch is like riding shotgun, and as long as you’re my girl, your sweet little ass will be right here by my side. I want to feel your thighs rubbing
on mine.”
“Oh, I can do that. By the way, where are we going?” I ask him.
“To hell,” he replies in a somber tone.
I snuggle as close as I can to him, and ask again, “Be more specific, please.”
“My personal hell located smack dab in sunny California.”
I reach up and nibble on his ear. “The beach?”
“Yeah, baby, I’ll take you to the ocean.”
“We can do this together, Miles. We can,” I reassure him.
“You have to quit nibbling on my ear while I’m driving. I’m positive that at any given moment I’ll be going blind from this raging boner.”
“Oh, Miles, I love you.”
It feels so good to say it out loud. Scratch that, it’s the most liberating and exhilarating feeling a girl could ask for. For the first time in my life, I know now what Momma meant by true love tingling your toes. I finally found my Miles. He has set my toes on fire. His past is something we’ll have to work on, and we will together, hand in hand. Cree is going to go ballistic.
Miles cranks up “Basket Case” by Green Day and continues our journey down the highway. I let the scent of my man, the warmth of the sun, and the tingling sensation in my toes lull me to sleep.
“Baby, wake up. We’re stopped for a bit. Are you hungry?”
Stretching out across the front seat of the car, I lay my head in Miles’ lap and look up at him. His sad face instantly hurts me. Whatever we’re walking into isn’t pretty, and I can tell he’s not okay with bringing me, but it was my stubborn ass that begged for it.
I reach up and pet his scruff. “It is going to be all right, Miles. I’m not leaving you.”
“You haven’t met her yet and you haven’t seen it yet. You have no idea what life is like on the other side of the tracks, Willow.”
“You’re right, I don’t, but do you think I’m that shallow of a person to turn my back on you for it?”
“No. It’s just all a huge mess. I mean, say you survive this trip, but then the real shit storm goes off when we go back and tell your family. They’re going to take you away from me,” Mile says as he pets the side of my face.
