Dirty Driver: Dark Crime Romance

by Alice May Ball

  With each breath we would peel away the layers of clothes from each other, carefully strip away all that kept us apart. Both of us taking our time. Relishing the unfolding. The opening. The revelation. And the holding back.

  Me, freeing his chest, his huge, glistening muscles. Unsheathing his powerful thighs from their hard denim casing. I would pop the riveted buttons one at a time and my breath would catch as the fabric of his briefs sprang forward under the weight of his cock.

  As Ryan slid each flimsy piece of cotton, lace, and sheer nylon over my trembling skin and away, I would thrill and stretch, fixing on the fire in his eyes, the roll of his massive shoulders as he bent over my body to expose me to him. We would taste and appreciate each other. Stroke and caress each other, ever more intimate, ever closer, feeling every connection spread as we learned each other’s bodies.

  But it wasn’t like that at all.

  He turned and slammed my back against the door, tearing at the front of my dress. I clawed at his shirt. My hands plunged down for his jeans, but I couldn’t reach his belt. The buttons popped off the front of my dress as he yanked it apart. They flew spinning past my eyes. He buried his face in my neck, noisily kissed and sucked his way to my breasts.

  He shoved the cup of my bra away so he could suck my breast, pull with his lips on my nipple and flick the stinging tip with his tongue.

  Grabbing his shirt, I dragged it out of his jeans. The shake in my fingers and thumbs was too much and I couldn’t open the buttons. Then I tried to rip it open, like he had with my dress, but his shirt was tougher and my hands were too weak. I couldn’t do it.

  Impatience made me groan and I grabbed at the hard muscles of his chest, raked my hands over his ribs, his back, the hard ridges of his shoulders. All the while, my hips ground my aching, wet pussy against his stomach as hard as I could. Dragged it as far down as I could reach. My pelvis rocked, desperate to rub my pussy against his stiff cock.

  Pushing against the rolling contours of his abs, I couldn’t get close enough, couldn’t press hard enough. He slid his hand up the bottom of my thigh. The rough heat of his grip made me jump and shudder. Sparks crackled and flashed inside me as I bit the hardness of his shoulder muscle.

  When I reached down again, he spun me around and I gasped. He had meant to lay me on the bed. To spread me, carefully. But I was struggling and we toppled. He fell on top of me. Rose petals shook and flurried around us.

  His shirt was up so his hot flesh was on mine. I squeezed his bare, flexing abs and the tops of his hips as they pressed between my thighs, winding and weaving, pushing him nearer.

  At last I got a hold of his belt. I was still too shaky to open the buckle, but I had finally got him to do it. Kneeling over me, he popped the buttons on his shirt and rolled it off, over the tensing bulges of his muscles. He panted and his eyes burned right into mine as he hauled his buckle open and snapped apart the metal buttons that held his jeans closed.

  My eyes watered as I watched, transfixed, my stomach buzzing with anticipation. My hips squirmed as my petals prickled in the heat inside my panties. He was even more beautiful than I remembered him. The ripples of his moving landscape of muscle made my pelvis twist and roll. With his jeans open and his thrusting cock straining, he moved back, off the bed. His lip twitched as he looked hard into my eyes.

  Breathless and up on my elbows, I watched. The sight of the tightening cords in the triangle of his back as he leaned down to undo his boots made me bite my lip. His skin was dappled with rose petals. Mine, too. Down the backs of my thighs, hot currents ran.

  In a trance, I drew my soaking wet panties down. As I slid them onto my thighs and felt the cool air on my aching, swollen lips, he stopped. Stared at me. Like a wolf that’s just seen a baby deer. All on its own by the river. With nowhere to go. No escape.

  “Haley.” His voice stoked a fire inside me.

  I wanted to slide out of my bra and the dress. But not as much as I wanted to watch his jeans come down. I stared as he let the jeans down to the floor. My mouth dried as his thighs flexed. His eyes stayed on mine as he leaned forward and peeled his shorts over his ass.

  All the time he’d been away I remembered him, thought about him, dreamed about him. But I thought in my memory, some things about him must have gotten exaggerated. I was wrong.

  When his cock sprang free it was like a telegraph pole, like a crane gantry heaved from straight up, over to a forty-five degree thrust. When it found its angle, it bounced there, thick, heavy, and impossibly long. It was fantastic. And terrifying. His grin widened. My mouth dropped open and a chasm opened in my stomach.

  He turned and held it. Waved it slowly.

  “You like?” his eyes burned into mine. My tongue flicked across my lips. I wanted him so badly. I wanted to be his. To give him everything. And to tell him everything. I knew I had to wait on the last part. But it was hard. He needed to know. And I had to wait to tell him.

  He took a step nearer and I gasped. My stomach fluttered and my nipples were sore. He held his cock pointed straight at me. I wanted to wrap him, feel him inside me, in every part of me in every way. It had been so long. I wanted the moment to last, and I wanted it to be past.

  “I’m going to fuck you so hard, Haley.”

  His eyes were hungry and fierce as he climbed slowly on top of me. I bit my lip as my thighs stretched wider. With one hand, he stroked my face.

  “I’m going to fill you with every fucking fat inch of my cock.”

  His cock slid up against me, pushed on my mound, pressed against my clit.

  “I’m going to pump you full of me.”

  The scents of him made me want to bite into his neck, his shoulder, but I didn’t want to take my eyes from his.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he said. “I feel like I’ve waited forever for this.”

  His huge bulb slipped to press against my petals and I shuddered. I wrapped my ankles around his back. In his eyes, I saw fire.

  Ryan held my gaze as the head of his cock slid in between my lips and into the opening of my soaked pussy.

  I sucked in a breath as he parted me with his shaft. Then he slammed in. Hard. All the way. I cried out. It was just a noise, but it stretched and became his name.

  “Ryan!”

  He shoved in again, harder. I hadn’t wanted to cry out, but the force of him, his hardness and heat as he drove into me, pushed open a door inside me.

  It almost hurt. It almost filled me too much. It was almost unbearable, and I almost couldn’t take it. All over, my body trembled. I grabbed his hair and stared helplessly into his eyes. My walls hugged and gripped around his pulsing girth.

  His hips and mine just pressed together for a long, breathless moment. I raked my fingers through his hair and his eyes scoured my face. Then my breath caught as he slid back and almost all the way out. When he plunged back in, my lips squeezed on his bulb and clung along his shaft as my pelvis rocked toward him.

  We kissed as our bodies found the motion—the hard, liquid rhythm—and flowed, crashing and splashing together. I wrapped him as he rammed and slammed me. I pulled him to me. I dragged my hand down his spine to feel the rolling motion in his back.

  From my core, streams of bubbling, bursting tremors and ecstatic tingles charged through me. My nipples hardened and stung. I clawed and climbed to get more of his flesh deeper inside me. When our hips met, I ground against him, rubbed my lips and grazed my clit against his pubic bone.

  We flowed together with hot force along a current of boiling, rising stretches and clenches. He held me like he owned me, like he drove me, like I was the most precious thing he would ever destroy. His force filled me and pumped me hard, pushed like he would burst me. He kneaded and squeezed my breasts and I arched to scrape my stomach against the fuzz on his.

  “Haley, I thought about you.” His voice was a hard rasp. “So much. For so long.”

  The insides of my thighs trembled as they pulled and held him. With my heels and ankles, I s
tretched to pull him deeper, but he was too strong, too big. Too hard for my little shins to do more than quiver against his trunk. He rode higher, harder, and my elbows beat on the mattress. As I was filled and stretched, the tense pitch of sensation inside me rose to a plateau, then rolled, gathered as he steered and pounded me, accelerated, and swerved me.

  Waves from my aching pussy gathered and grew. He slid farther, deeper, and faster until I reached another precipice. Then he cooled. The bastard. Waited. Left me to calm and settle. Until the moment I least expected it.

  Ryan held my face in his hands and leaned close to look into my eyes. He called my name, “Haley. You are so beautiful.”

  My juices sprang. And he hammered me more, harder. Longer and hotter. The length of his shaft rammed in and out of me like a piston. A piston that set off an explosion every time it hit its peak. My arms and legs held him with all the strength I had. My fingers clawed in his hair, scraped down his back, and grabbed at his ass as he plowed into me.

  “Ryan!” I gasped as he hefted my ass up with one hand and drew his hard thighs up under me. I flopped back, my arms wide, writhing as he reamed my pussy long and deep. The cheeks of my ass reddened and stung from the slap of his thighs. The sensitivity only made me convulse and spasm more intensely.

  I reached out for him, but he just plowed on. My back arched as he squeezed my breast, the arc of it extending even further when he bent to suck my nipple, still rocking the length of his cock hard into me. As he found the angle to get higher, farther inside me and scrape more at the front of my opening, my hips jerked and I turned my face to bite my arm.

  As hard as I could, I bucked my ass, to slide my weeping lips along his hard pole, but I couldn’t coordinate. The explosive sensations inside me jerked and twisted my body out of rhythm. I twitched like a rag doll shot through with electricity. All the while, his cock beat and slammed me relentlessly.

  Ryan lifted me from under my shoulders to pull me onto his lap. With him holding me, moving me, I rose up on the length of his cock and my pelvis tipped as I slid back down. My face, my head, and my arms flopped over his shoulder as he lifted me up and let me down on the rail of his cock. My hips drove my pussy along him and took him greedily in. No other part of me seemed to coordinate as he filled me and stretched me.

  He gripped my hair to pull back my head and he kissed and licked my neck, my throat, and under and around my ear. Then my face. He yanked my hair and stared into my eyes as he beat his cock high and deep into me.

  The tides inside me rose and swelled. From the backs of my thighs up the walls of my stomach, splashing, crashing crests of sensation swirled and spilled, brimming upward, igniting my nipples. My throat and my breasts prickled and my buttocks and thighs clenched as I shouted his name again. He rose. Held me higher, beat me harder. Shot in deeper. Penetrated and split me wider, farther.

  “Ryan, you fucker!”

  “Haley, you’re wonderful.”

  “Ryan! Come! Come with me!”

  His thighs pummeled the cheeks of my ass. “Come on, Haley! Yes!”

  “Fuck me, Ryan!” the waves rose and gathered into a swell. What began as a brimming became a cascade and spilled out to drench me inside. “Fuck me!” I shouted, but even I couldn’t make out the words.

  “Haley, you’re so fucking amazing,” he murmured, and I shook like a tree in the wind as he hammered me. The heat of his cock drove me to juddering shakes. His shaft swelled in long pulses as he sucked my neck and blasted bolts of hot, sticky love against my walls.

  He stayed deep inside me and held me as I collapsed. His voice was low and hot in my ear. “Now,” he said, “you’re fucked.”

  I could barely even speak to reply. “You know, I think I am.”

  He held and cuddled me. Kissed my skin. His lips brushed my shoulders. My neck. My cheeks and the side of my face. “I love you.”

  Then I woke up. “You what?”

  “I’m not even sure if I know what it means,” he murmured, “but I know how it feels now.”

  “You didn’t before?”

  He leaned up on his elbow. The look in his eyes was one I hadn’t seen before. It was serious, but soft and sure.

  “The first days and weeks, while I was inside, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I spent almost all of my time wondering where you were, what you were doing, how I could make things better for you. I thought about nothing but you, all night and all day.”

  I stroked his face. “But you wouldn’t let me see you. You never accepted for me to come visit.”

  “I didn’t want to drag you into any of that shit. I wanted you to go on with your life. Have what you deserved.”

  “What about having what I wanted?”

  “Some fuckup who got himself slung in prison?”

  “You got yourself a reduced sentence. For helping the police, for cooperating with the DA. And for saving that cop at the mall.”

  “I did. But none of that made me feel any better. And the first few weeks, I was just sick. I felt it all the time like an illness. I could hardly eat. I didn’t want to do anything. It felt terrible. I couldn’t understand it until another prisoner told me what was wrong. ‘You’re in love,’ he told me. Then it all made sense.”

  He held me. “Then I knew what I had to do. I got back to working out and getting myself in shape for when I would get out.”

  “And you arranged this room, with the flowers?”

  “Yup.”

  “And if I had given up, or moved on?”

  “I’d have had to live with it. It was an awful risk. But I had to take the responsibility for it. But that guy, he helped me to see, love is a risk.”

  “You’re worrying me, Ryan. I think aliens stole my man while he was in prison.”

  “That guy, he’s a double murderer. He’ll never get out. But what keeps him going is the love he has for his daughter.”

  “Does she go and see him?”

  “Hasn’t been once. He said it was hard at first, but then one day he realized. Love was wanting the best for her, for his daughter. And the best for her, he said, was to have nothing to do with her no-good, criminal father.”

  I was shocked. “But she’s part of him. And he’s part of her.”

  He looked in my eyes again. “He said that he hopes she’ll realize that before it’s too late. But for now, if having nothing to do with him is what’s best for her, that’s what he wants for her.”

  “That does sound like love.”

  He said, “Love is a risk,” and he kissed me, “but it’s the best risk.” He looked in my eyes. “If you take the risk, you can win everything.”

  And when he kissed me again, long and deep, I nearly told him everything. But I still had to be sure.

  His saying that he loved me took me by surprise, but I still had to figure out my real feelings for him. What they meant, as well as the sheer, overwhelming weight of them. His feelings really did seem sincere, but could I trust them? What were they, exactly; were they enough for me to commit to him, with the responsibilities that I had now? Was I truly in love with Ryan?

  And there was something else I needed to know. Something even more important than that. Next day, back at Aileen’s, we’d find out.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Hayley

  IT WAS A BEAUTIFUL morning when I took Ryan back to Aileen’s house. On the way, I knew he was in for a few surprises, and I wasn’t about to spoil any of them. The last one, most of all. My life would likely take a turn based on his reaction.