by Mia Ford
There was nothing left for either of us in Bakersfield.
The only thing I cared about was the man snoring softly in the seat beside me. I prayed that he felt the same.
SANDY
We’d been on the road for two hours when Rick woke up to realize that he had been kidnapped. He was an easy person to kidnap. When I told him we were headed to Cabo San Lucas for a few weeks of lying naked in the sun, he just looked at me and smiled.
“Isn’t Cabo like a thousand miles from where we are?” he asked, glancing at the exit signs for San Diego that we were passing.
“Yes. So? What’s your point?”
“Don’t guess I have one,” he said with shrug. My hand was resting on the gear shift. He covered it with his long fingers and gave it a squeeze. An old familiar tingle worked its way up my arm.
“So, we’re looking at twenty hours or so drive time,” he said, glancing over at me with a goofy look on his weathered face.
“That sounds about right.”
“And it’s getting dark,” he said, glancing out the window.
“Yes, it tends to get dark about this time every day.”
“And I haven’t gotten laid in a very long time.”
I glanced over at him. His old smile had returned. It washed over me like a warm bath. My cheeks flushed. My nipples plumped in my bra. I could feel moisture between my legs.
“I haven’t been laid in a long time either,” I said, turning my hand over so we could lace our fingers together. I glanced at the road ahead. There was a Motel 6 at the next exit.
“Shall I take this exit.”
“Please do,” he said, pulling my hand across to feel the bulge in his jeans. “Quickly.”
* * *
I had no idea what the record was for checking into a motel and stripping off your clothes, but I was sure that Rick and I had broken the old record by several minutes. I quickly checked us in, we hurried to the room without getting our bags and stripped each other naked just inside the door.
My hand immediately went to Rick’s throbbing cock. As my fingers closed around it and started to gently tug, it was as if we were transported back in time, to my apartment, to the first time we’d made love.
Rick dug his fingers into my tits and pushed me into the wall. His mouth was all over me: my lips, my chin, my neck. His fingers squeezed the soft flesh of my tits, making me moan in pain and pleasure. He lowered his mouth to my nipples and teased them with his tongue, taking them between his teeth, suckling them between his lips.
His cock felt wonderful in my hand. I had forgotten how long and thick he was. I stood on my tiptoes and pulled him to me, swirling the head of his cock around my dripping pussy and clit. I started pumping his cock with long strokes from base to head, pushing him against my clit. I came quickly, my hot juices showering him, making him moan.
He grabbed my ass and lifted me up. I draped an arm around his neck and wrapped my legs around his waist. He used a hand to guide his cock to my pussy, then put his hands on my ass again and impaled me onto him. His cock slid in with such force that the wind was knocked from my lungs.
With my arms around his neck and his hands on my ass and my back against the wall, Rick ramrodded his cock into my pussy, fast, hard, like a man who had not had sex in a very long time. He pressed his forehead to mine and gritted his teeth to hold back the orgasm.
“I want to see your face while I’m fucking you,” he said. He carried me to the bathroom and set me down. He roughly spun me around and dug his fingers into my hips. I pushed my ass toward him and watched his face in the mirror as he slid his cock back inside my pussy. I could feel him all inside me now. Long. Hard. Thick. Wonderful.
“Fuck me hard, baby,” I moaned. “Fuck me hard… stick your big cock inside my sweet pussy…”
He gazed into the mirror and smiled.
Dirty talk was our thing.
“You want my big cock to ram your sweet pussy,” he asked, moving his hips in and out, shoving his cock inside me until the head hit my innermost wall. “God... your pussy is so fucking tight… I’ve missed you… so much…”
“Fuck me hard, Rick…” I braced my arms on the counter and closed my eyes. “I want to feel your monster cock in my throat.”
Rick tightened his grip on my hips and started rocking into me so hard that my tits swayed back and forth, hanging from my chest. I grabbed them and gritted my teeth, rolling my nipples between my fingers.
The fire was igniting deep inside me.
Another orgasm was on its way.
I felt hot all over.
I could smell the tangy scent of my juices washed over him.
I could smell his sweat.
I wanted to lick every drop of it from his body.
“God… I’m cumming…” he moaned, ramming into me, jarring my entire body.
“Yes… baby… cum… with me…” He moaned loudly as his cock filled me with his hot, milky cum and my orgasm sent a shudder through my body.
A moment more, and our bodies went slack.
I opened my eyes to find him smiling back at me.
“Welcome home,” I said with a happy sigh, wiggling my soaked pussy against him. “Don’t you ever leave me again.”
EPILOG: SANDY
Cabo San Lucas was the most beautiful place on Earth.
Well, the most beautiful place that I’d ever been to.
And having Rick by my side again just made it feel that much more like Heaven on Earth.
We had rented a small bungalow on the beach and spent our days sunning and swimming, and our nights dancing and drinking and making love, or as Rick called it: drinkin’ and fuckin’.
Sigh. Such manners on this one.
We talked about other places we’d like to go; Europe maybe, or Australia. But every day as the sun set over the Pacific Ocean just a few feet from where we sat with our toes in the sand, we knew that it didn’t matter where we were, so long as we were together.
I thought about Brent often and how his death had brought me to this point in my life.
If I could have gone back in time and prevented him from going into that store; if I could have saved him from Eddie; I would have done so without hesitation.
But I couldn’t turn back time.
And I couldn’t bring him back.
All I could do was keep his memory alive in my heart and try to be the person he expected me to be; a person who deserved his love, and deserved the life it had given me.
THE END
Billionaire Steamy Romance Series
BOOK 1 : BAD BOY BALLER
MAYA
I was young and stupid, but that was no excuse. Everyone is young and stupid at some point in their life, but not everyone makes the mistakes I'd made. It all started when my brother Luke brought over a new friend. I was a senior in high school, a good girl. A girl my family could be proud of. I didn't go out and party like my brother. I studied. I worked hard. I was going to be a doctor one day, and that meant taking advanced classes while I was in high school, to prepare myself for college and beyond.
I was the white sheep of the family, my brother the black one. He would disappear for days on end, partying and drinking, until he finally couldn't party anymore. Even at twenty-one, he was still living at home. He worked mostly odd jobs – his latest one at a club in Chicago. Luke told me all about it, making it sound like an incredible opportunity, rather than the latest waystation on the road to nowhere he was on. But I'd listen as he told me how great it was to sling drinks and flirt with all the hot women – and to get paid for it too.
He'd apparently found his dream, and I guess that I had to be happy for him.
Every week, we had a family dinner. It was something of a tradition with my folks. Once a week, we'd all gather around the table and eat a home-cooked meal, all in one place. During the week, my father's job kept him away a lot and Luke was, well, Luke. He was hardly ever around. But he was good about never missing a family dinner. Mostly because
mom would have had his hide if he had.
But I remember clearly, this one specific family dinner, when Luke brought a friend from work to our weekly family gathering.
“His name is Reese,” he told my mom beforehand.
“Reese isn't family, dear,” she said. “Only family should be at family dinner.”
Yeah, my mom was a bit uptight. Sometimes too uptight for her own good. But I had to admit that I agreed with her. At least on this one thing. I didn't want any of my brother's scumbag friends hanging out with us. Especially not on the one night we were supposed to come together as a family.
“He has no family, mom. I feel bad for the kid,” Luke complained. “Would you really turn away a guy who has no family instead of welcoming him into ours for an evening?”
I rolled my eyes as I listened from the living room. My brother knew how to work it and play on my mom's heart strings. It made me sick.
I heard my mom sigh as I walked into the kitchen. She put the lasagne in the oven and wiped her hands on her apron. She tried a little too hard to be the picture of the perfect mom – her perfectly coifed hair, the church dress, the pearls around her neck. She had that Donna Reed thing going on, but was exactly the type of woman I aspired to be. Except, of course, that I wanted a career. I gave her props for all she did, but being a stay-at-home mom wasn't for me. In that regard, I was more like my dad – who was a doctor too, of course.
“Fine, I guess I shouldn't be so cold,” she said. “Tell him he can come over, but please – and I beg of you, Luke – tell him to make sure he dresses properly. None of those baggy jeans and baseball caps at the table.”
I snickered. It was hard enough to get Luke to dress properly, especially back then. He was trying so hard to be a gangster type – baggy jeans, tennis shoes that cost his entire pay check, baseball caps turned backward with the brim left unmoulded. He didn't want people to believe he was the adult son of a doctor and a stay-at-home wife living in middle class suburbia outside of Chicago. That would have damaged his street cred or whatever he called it.
If Luke heard me laughing, he ignored me. Instead, he agreed – reluctantly – that they'd dress appropriately for the dinner table. Though, it didn't take a genius to know that his idea of appropriate and my mom's likely didn't match up too well. I figured we'd be lucky if he wore anything that even remotely resembled appropriate dinner table attire.
When he brought Reese over though, I wasn't surprised to see that the kid was wearing the exact attire that mom had said not to wear to the table. Of course, he was. So was my brother.
But Reese, unlike my brother, made it look natural. Unlike my upper middle-class, spoiled snot of a brother, Reese actually looked the part. His brown hair was shaggy and stylishly messy. And unlike my brother, he had the decency to take his hat off at the dinner table – something that surprised the hell out of me.
My mom shook her head, mumbling to herself about ungrateful kids, but she let it go without causing a scene. She never let us argue at the dinner table and always made sure to set the example for us.
I, of course, was dressed in a pink floral skirt with a white, button-up blouse. Not the type of outfit I'd wear to school, but for family dinner, I was expected to dress a little nicer than normal. My father usually wore whatever he wore to work that day – usually a shirt and tie.
“Luke, would you care to say grace?” my mom asked, shooting him a look of pure death that was camouflaged by a saccharine sweet smile, of course.
“I'd rather not,” my brother said. “I'm sure Maya would be more than willing though.”
It was my father, the one who normally didn't like confrontation, who started the dinnertime prayer. I bowed my head, but caught myself staring over at Reese with wide eyes. He pretended to bow his head, but while everybody had their heads lowered, he looked around our dining room, his eyes almost as wide as mine, but probably for different reasons.
I was staring because Reese was actually pretty hot. My dorky brother usually had dorky-looking friends, but this time, his friend wasn't so bad on the eyes. So, sue me. I was a warm-blooded high school girl who didn't get much attention from boys because I was shy and often kept my face hidden by a book. But there was an older guy, someone with a little more experience behind him than the stupid boys in my high school class. I stared until Reese caught me staring. I quickly looked away, my cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
My father ended the prayer and we all started eating. I kept my eyes lowered and tried hard not to get caught staring again. I was, after all, a dorky high school girl and he was a cooler, older guy who worked at a club. There was no way, in a million years, my brother's best friend was going to look twice at me.
But a girl could dream, couldn't she?
“Dude, where did you get the money for that?” my brother asked.
We were hanging out in the living room, watching television as I pretended to study, and my brother was on the phone – talking to Reese most likely.
“I'm so jealous, dude,” he said, shaking his head.
“Could you please be quiet –” I started to ask him, but it was my mom who beat me to it.
“Please don't make us listen to your conversations, Luke,” she said. “Take it to your room.”
“Nah, it's fine,” Luke said. “He's coming over anyway.”
“Who is?” I asked, already knowing the answer and feeling the heat rise in my cheeks.
“Reese, Duh. He just bought a killer new sound system for his car and wants to show it off,” he said.
“Where does he get the money for stuff like that?” my mom asked.
It was a question that had occurred to me, but one I never really pursued because it really didn't matter all that much to me. But I had thought about it briefly given that my brother worked at the same club and couldn't even afford his own toilet paper – he made our parents buy it for him.
“I dun no. Side jobs and stuff,” Luke said, not meeting our gaze. “What's it matters to you? At least he's making a living, right?”
“Unlike someone we know,” I muttered under my breath.
“You're just jealous and you have a massive crush, Maya,” Luke said. I turned bright red. “But keep dreaming. There's no way he'd ever be into a nerdy little high schooler like you.”
“I don't have a crush,” I lied, looking down at my textbook as if mitochondria and nuclei were the most interesting subjects on the planet. “I would never have a crush on one of your loser friends, Luke.”
“Ha. Yeah, right. We both see the way you gawk at him every time he comes over,” he sneered. “You're not fooling anyone.”
“Enough!” My mom shouted, putting her hands up between us. “Stop it already. Just stop arguing. I'm trying to watch my movie.”
I glared at Luke and he smirked at me. He knew he was right. And even worse, I knew he was right. He knew I had a crush on Reese, and no matter what I said, there was no denying it. And now that Reese knew, well, that would make running into him even more awkward than it already was.
I picked up my textbook, slammed it shut and walked toward my room. The tears were fresh in my eyes and stung, but I couldn't cry in front of Luke. I couldn't give my obnoxious brother anymore reason to smirk or laugh at me than he already had.
Only a few more weeks until graduation, then I was off to college, I reminded myself. I'd be going to North-western, so not terribly far – but far enough that I would be able to avoid my brother and his friend. I'd meet other boys at college and forget that Reese even existed, I was sure of it. I was going to meet more worthy boys, not boys who worked at nightclubs and likely sold drugs on the side to live an expensive lifestyle that he otherwise shouldn't have been able to afford.
It was hard being eighteen and a virgin still, but I'd survive. One day, I'd find the right boy and we'd have sex and it would be magical. Reese would be a distant, shameful memory. And sooner or later, he'd wise up and drop my brother, the wannabe gangster. Then I would be the one laugh
ing at Luke.
But until then, I'd hide away in my room, do what I needed to do to get ready for college, and escape from it all. I'd watch from my window as the two of them played basketball, laughing to myself as Reese obliterated my brother every time. Luke sucked at basketball – most sports, really. He only played so he could look cool next to his new friend from the city. The basketball hoop attached to our garage was just beneath my window, so sometimes they'd catch me watching. Luke would flip me off, Reese would roll his eyes and pretend I wasn't there.
But I could always find some measure of escape in my room. And by escaping, I, of course, meant masturbating, because God knew, I was still very much a young, warm blooded woman with needs and desires that needed to be met.
And yes, I often imagined Reese while I touched myself. Because I knew that he was just the right type of bad who could talk me out of my panties. He'd let me do all the dirty things my heart desired – and I wouldn't have to feel guilty about any of them. Not with Reese.
Not that it would ever happen, of course.
Which is why they were called fantasies.
A Few Months Later
Allie poked her head into my room with an overzealous smile. “We're all going to a club downtown, wanna join us?”
Inwardly, I groaned and stared down at the textbook in my lap. I was studying for a test, my first one in my chemistry class and I wanted to ace it. But there was some small spark of desire in me to get out and have some fun.
“Come on, the test isn't until next week, Maya,” Allie said, rolling her eyes at me. “Don't you want to get to know your sorority sisters?”
Yes, my sorority sisters. Me, of all people, had pledged a sorority – though, it hadn't been my choice. No, my mother had insisted I pledge. She'd been a Delta Lambda back in her college days and wanted her little girl to be her legacy. Even though sororities were so not my thing. I got in – thanks to my mother being an alumna – but I never really fit in. The girls – and my mother – kept trying to get me to come out of my shell, but it hadn't taken very well.
