Finding Willow (Hers)

by Dawn Robertson

  “Come on.” He takes my hand again and out the door we go, into the cold, dark fall night.

  “Sit tight for a second. Let me get on first and then I will help you up onto the back. Okay?”

  I’ve never ridden on a motorcycle before in my life. Well, I guess I have ridden someone on a motorcycle but that totally doesn't fucking count. His long muscular legs straddle the giant chrome-lined motorcycle. He flips the kickstand up and reaches his hand for mine.

  “Use the peg right there with your left leg and swing your right leg over the seat. Sorry I don't have a back rest. I don't usually do passengers.” His confession catches me off guard, but the little surge of happiness I feel is enough to put the first smile on my face since the morning when I was with his little girl.

  With my ass snug on the tiny backseat of his monster of a bike, I reach between our bodies for the small leather strap. The motorcycle roars to life and he lets out a laugh. Letting go of the handlebars, he pulls my arms around his waist and I loop my fingers through his belt loops, holding on to him tighter than I have ever held on to a human in my life. Including my best friend.

  The tires of the motorcycle peel out of the dirt parking lot, kicking up a cloud of brown smoke as we hit the pavement of the main road and head out of town. I close my eyes and take in the feeling of the ride. The wind blows through my hair, the chill bites my face, and the engine vibrates through my entire body. Freedom isn't the only thing I feel as we tear down the road heading for the old scenic roads on the outskirts of the little hippie town.

  Every turn we round, I hold on tighter. Every negative thought in my head flies out into the night sky. Every bad memory slowly purges from my being. The wind cleanses my soul, as the roar of the motorcycle engine mends every one of my imperfections. When Chrome said going for a ride was freeing, that was a complete understatement.

  I could live on the back of this bike for the rest of my life, simply because it gives me the most peace I have ever felt. I crave this freedom. I almost want my own bike, even though I know that’s a completely fucking extreme idea. This is my first time on the back; there is no way I need to be riding my own. I would probably kill myself.

  I close my eyes again and enjoy the peace of the ride. The miles of dark road fly by in a blur. Almost an hour has gone by when we pull back into the parking lot of the motel. I have no idea where we went and I don't really fucking care. The ride served its purpose. The memories of the past are where they belong now. In my past. From here on out, everything is about the future and what I am going to make of my life. This is my fucking life and no one is going to get in the way of me living it anymore.

  I climb off the back of Chrome's motorcycle and slowly regain feeling in my legs and ass. I have been sitting on the small, hard leather backseat for so long that my vagina is seriously fucking numb. I could totally take a good pounding right now and would never feel a thing. Damn, come to think of it, that would kind of suck.

  Chrome cuts the engine of the motorcycle and joins me in front of my door. We stare at each other for a long moment, wondering what the next move is. Do I invite him in? Do I say goodnight? Do I say goodbye until next week when he returns from whatever business?

  His words break my thoughts.

  “So, now what?”

  I don't know the answer. I wish I could see inside his mind, because everything going on inside me is hinging on him. I want to know if he wants me. But then again, that is just way too much like the old Star. Waiting to see what a man wants, instead of going for exactly what I fucking want for once. This is my turn to take control of my life. Go after what I want. Make my own future.

  “That ride, it was nice. Exactly what I needed. I feel different. Free.” I pull the bandana off my head, and hold it out to him. His hand reaches out for the blue piece of fabric, stuffing it in his back pocket before taking another step toward me.

  “I don't know what to do or say now. Whatever this is, it's new to me. But I can tell you, I want you to come back inside my room with me.” I’m brave, but that is as brave as I can get. I leave the choice up to him. I hold my breath while I stand there waiting. I turn to unlock the door.

  “Star, I'm sorry about what you saw at the diner. Whatever this is with you, I want it. I don't want to let you go. I'm gonna fuck up; it's what I do. But I promise I will try and do better.”

  I push it open, and he is right behind me as we step over the threshold. The door slams shut and I am pushed up against the wall once again. The same wall he fucked me up against the first night I laid eyes on him. It seems like an eternity ago, but it’s only been days. My body gravitates toward him, melting against his touch as his lips cover mine. It isn't a forceful kiss like last time. It is tender and sweet, but still full of passion. His mouth makes love to mine, showing me how much he cares, despite the fact that we are virtually strangers.

  He slowly pulls away and runs a fingertip down the length of my face. I try to speak, but he silences me, pressing a single finger against my lips.

  “I don't want to rush this.”

  The two times we have been together has been rushed for sure. Almost fully fucking dressed on top of it. I didn't crave the personal connection of being completely naked with him, exploring every inch of his body, until now. We have turned a page. Crossed an unspoken line in the sand.

  I’m scared shitless. My nerves are getting the best of me as I overthink every single aspect of my life. Every time I try to process what is happening between us, I can't help but throw all caution to the wind. I just want to do this with him. Whatever this is.. If it isn't the right thing to do, I will only end up fucked once again. But at least it won't be the first time.

  His fingers run through my knotted hair. The wind-whipped tangles catch on his rough hands as he gently smooths my dark locks. It is a simple act, but one of the most intimate connections I have ever shared with another human being. His strong arms scoop me up while he slowly makes his way to the bed, where he tenderly lays me down. He sits at the edge of the bed and begins to unlace his black boots. The silence continues between us and I hate it. It is just too quiet.

  “You don't have to take those off, ya know?”

  He lets out a chuckle and turns to face me while he toes off both boots.

  “If I want to do this right, I do.”

  The lazy smile on his face is enough to bring me to my knees, but I am already flat on my back. I grasp the black hoodie which still clings tightly to my body. I’m still warming up from the chilly night's ride.

  His words finally strike me.

  “Do what right?” I don't think anyone has ever wanted to do anything right with me. I have always been the wrong girl for all the right reasons. The rebellion. The porn star experience. The drugs.

  “Make love to you.” His fingers pull at the zipper of my hoodie. I let him undress me. He takes his time with each movement. I want to freak out at his words. Make love? That is a first to me. I fuck. I don't make love.

  I sit up and run my hands down his sculpted chest, still covered by his cut and long sleeved t-shirt. My fingers slip underneath the thin piece of leather, pushing it off his broad shoulders and letting it fall onto the floor. I pull at the hem of his shirt and slide it over his head. We stare at each other for a long moment before he shifts his weight and stands from the bed. As he turns to walk toward the dresser, I see it.

  “I'm sorry, Star.” He turns to face me, ashamed, as he pulls the Glock handgun from its secure spot, tucked in the waistband of his jeans at the center of his back. He places it on the dresser and walks back to the bed. He’s wary, as if he expects me to turn him away. I wonder why he’s carrying a gun, but with his club involvement, I leave the subject alone. I don't want to know, and I will turn a blind eye just to keep him here with me. He has imperfections, but so do I.

  He climbs back up the bed, taking the same position he was in, draping over me. My hand cups his chin and I push my body up to meet his lips. It isn't a rushed kiss; i
t is perfect. My lips graze his plump lower lip, pulling it between my teeth. My tongue traces his lip and his mouth begins to part, welcoming my tongue as it slips between his perfectly straight teeth. I lazily explore his mouth before pulling away, parting our lips with a series of chaste kisses. Neither of us want to stop. But we do before we end up in a frantic frenzy just like every other time we have ended up in an intimate situation.

  My fingers trace down his six-pack abs, fingering the button of his jeans before popping it open and slowly pulling the zipper down. I wrap my fingers in the belt loops of his pants and tug downward. They slide over his ass and bunch up at his knees. He lifts his legs and kicks his pants down his legs until they hit the floor at the end of the bed. He hovers above me, wearing nothing but a pair of red boxer-briefs. His erection strains against the thin fabric separating our bodies.

  His weight lifts and he lies down next to me on the bed. His hand rests on the side of my face, pushing my hair away from my eyes and tucking it behind my ear. He just stares, looking at me for minutes, not saying a single word. His eyes scan over every inch of my body, all the way down to my painted toenails. I start to feel self-conscious. Being naked in front of people doesn't bother me; it was my job for years. But the way he is taking in every inch is getting to me.

  “What?” I ask like a shy teenager. I can feel my face turning red.

  “Don't be shy, Cinderella. You are beautiful. I just want to take in every inch of you. Commit it to memory since I will be gone for a couple days.”

  His finger traces along the outline of my panties, moving up my body and reaching around to unclasp my bra. His words move me. I want to cry, but not a hurt cry, or a wounded soul type thing. I want to hold on to him and never let him go. After. Three. Fucking. Days. He has turned my world upside down with a simple sentence, and I don't fucking care anymore.

  This is the closest to perfection I will ever get, and I am going to bask in every single minute of it. The bra straps slide down my arms, exposing my silicone-filled fake tits. They always seemed like an awesome idea, but being in such a real, intimate moment, I hate them. If Chrome has any kind of problem with them, I don’t know, because without skipping a beat, his hands start cherishing them.

  Everything about him is so big, but my tits fit perfectly within his palms. He growls as he leans his head forward, taking my nipple into his mouth. I can feel my panties getting wet as he licks and sucks on my hard nipple before switching to the other. I moan under his touch as he continues to explore every inch of my voluminous breasts. His lips start trailing down my body, licking his way down to my waiting cunt.

  His lips kiss from hip bone to hip bone, never missing a single inch of skin. His teeth bite the lace of my panties and slowly pull them down my smooth, pale legs. I lie naked in front of him. Completely exposed.

  His lips brush against my clean shaved cunt as his fingers gently spread the aching lips. The air hits my clit and a shiver works through my body. His cool mouth feels exquisite on my hot pussy as he licks and teases. My body bucks off the bed as I try to hump his mouth. He sucks on my clit and I am virtually begging for him to fuck me so hard I see fucking stars. His tongue dips within my cunt and I just can’t take anymore. I let out a yelp and he backs away with a final lick.

  “You are perfect.” His mouth trails lazily back up my body. I can't help but ignore his movements and focus on his words. Perfect? No one has ever called me perfect. Ever. I have always been broken. But to him, I am perfect.

  I moan under his touch. I can feel him rooting a place deep within my soul. I can feel us becoming one. It is extreme and unexpected. It is everything I never thought I could have with another person. It’s also too soon. Three days. But I can't deny him. I can't deny this.

  He hovers above me, watching me. I can't take it anymore. I need him in so many ways, but I just may die if he doesn't bury his rock hard cock deep inside me. It is all I can think about. I smile and his lips part, returning the grin.

  “Do you have protection?” I hate being a stickler for safe sex, but it has been instilled in me. I want nothing more than to feel him with no barriers but he is still a stranger to me. We know details, and emotional turmoil, but that’s it.

  “In my pants. Hold on.”

  He rises off the bed, standing tall. I take in the glorious body before me. Everything about him is perfect. Sculpted abs, gorgeous strong arms, perfect pierced cock. That’s when I notice it: a scar that sits right on his ribcage. I continue to stare while he makes his way back to the bed, laying over my body. I run my fingers down his torso, stopping as the pads of my fingers come in contact with the bumpy imperfection.

  “It looks a lot worse than it was when it happened,” he offers as an explanation. I don't want to pry. I nod and accept his answer, but he continues. “I got shot, probably about ten years ago.”

  “I'm glad you are okay.”

  I watch him with a lazy gaze while he rolls the latex down his cock. I stare at the piercing that has brought my cunt so much damn pleasure; I can't wait to feel it inside me again. He positions himself at my wet pussy. I can feel the thick tip of his dick pressing against the opening as his eyes find their way up my body, stopping at my eyes. We lock stares, and he slowly starts to push inside of me. No hurry. I can feel every inch as he enters my waiting pussy.

  “Mmmmm, Chrome.” I moan his name as I feel his dick bottom out inside me. His balls press firmly against my bare ass. He doesn't move or thrust into me. He sits there for a minute, still staring into my eyes, silent. I want to say something, but no words could ever fit this moment. Our eyes dance back and forth with unspoken emotion, communicating to each other in the most intimate experience of my life.

  He lets out a deep sigh and begins to thrust inside me. He pushes in and pulls out until his dick almost falls from my cunt before he presses back in with just a little more force and need than the previous pump. This goes on for what seems like forever; instead, it is only minutes.

  I am panting under his sweating body, my hands exploring every rock hard inch from his ass to his smooth head. Up and down, not missing a piece of his glistening skin. He feels so good on top of me, inside me, all over me. His pace quickens, and he leans back on his muscular thighs, slightly switching positions. When he does this, his pierced dick presses against my sweet spot, and I can feel the orgasm building throughout my body. Each slide of the stud sends my body closer to my release, starting all the way at my hard nipples and rolling deep within my womb. I never thought a cock could feel this fucking good. God bless whoever pierced his dick!

  His hands move from my tits, one bracing the back of my leg while the other rubs my clit. I can't hold it back anymore. I try to, but it all just feels too fucking good. I let out a low moan as he continues to pump into me.

  “Fuck! Right there, big boy. Shit! I'm gonna...” I trail off and the wave of pleasure crashes over me. My cunt sprays his dick as he slams into me one last time with his own rough release.

  “Fuck, Star. Goddamn it. You feel so fucking good.” His chest heaves as he struggles to catch his breath. He slowly lowers his body onto mine, blanketing me in his warmth. He rolls to the side, pulling me with his body, but never pulling his dick from within me. We lie in bed connected like this for a while. His runs his fingers through my hair and holds me as close as our bodies can go. I feel myself starting to nod off when he shifts under me, pulling his softening cock out, and making his way for the bathroom. I really should do the same, but I don't want to move. I just want to fall asleep.

  He returns from the bathroom, minus the condom, and cleans me in the most tender way possible before he picks me up from the bed and pulls the covers back. He tucks me in. I fully expect him to get dressed and leave me for the night. Instead, still completely naked, he walks around to the other side of the bed and pulls the sheets back, joining me under the covers. He slides under the sheets and pulls me into his arms. I snuggle up to him. He is like a giant fucking teddy bear, all for my pe
rsonal use.

  He sprawls out on his back, and I lay my head on his chest. His arm wraps around me, and I just lie there listening to the beating of his heart. It’s something I have never done with another soul, and it comforts me. The beating of his heart lulls me to sleep.

  Just as I am about to drift off, he places a kiss on my forehead and whispers into my ear,

  “Goodnight, my angel.”

  His fingers run through my hair one last time, his arm tightens against my naked body, and we drift off to sleep together. Wrapped in each other’s naked limbs, without a fucking care in the world.

  I wake a few times throughout the night, firmly wrapped in Chrome’s arms. He never moves, never lets go, and, for the first time in my life, I feel completely safe. Safety, something I have always craved, is completely mine. The thought of him leaving tomorrow almost breaks me, but the reassurance that he will be back in a few days helps me to keep my shit together. When did I become that girl?

  I will myself back to sleep, and don't wake again until I feel him move under me and I realize someone’s phone is vibrating within the room.

  It's Not Goodbye

  “I'm good,” he says into the phone. His words are clipped. He’s to the point in whatever cryptic conversion he’s having with the stranger on the other end of the line. I don't pry or listen in. It’s not my business, and I always hate when nosy fuckers butt into my shit.

  I climb out from under the covers, still naked from the night before, and make my way to the bathroom. I kick on the shower, waiting for it to warm up while he does whatever he needs to do.

  Minutes later, the water is finally warm enough to jump in for a quick shower. The hot water runs down my body and feels fucking wonderful. I’ve always thought the hotter the better when it comes to a good shower. Growing up, I rarely got a hot shower, so now I take advantage of it as much as I possibly can. Call me selfish, I don't care.

  I hear the door crack open, and I wait for my goodbye. What I don't expect on the other side of the curtain is a tall, naked man ready to join me in the mini sauna I have created.