Larson

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Larson Page 5

by Juliana Conners


  Poor darling's never ridden a motorcycle before. Or me. She has no idea what's in store for her.

  I help her onto the bike and say, "Don't be scared."

  "Okay," she answers, but I don't know if she's referring to the bike, or me, or to the clowns. Maybe a combination of all three.

  As we head to Riley's house, the streets are quiet except for some drunken revelers, spilling out of the bars and house parties and heading home to their beds and their hangovers tomorrow morning. No sign of any clowns. Good.

  But when we pull up to Riley's house, a quick shadow darts across the lawn.

  "Hey!"

  As I cut the engine and jump off my bike, I see more shadows running from the driveway.

  Stupid punk kids.

  But under the street lamp I see that they have fuzzy colorful hair, white foundation, black streaked makeup and red noses. They're dressed exactly the same as the clowns that were at Clay Tucker's mansion. For all I know, they could be the same clowns.

  "Fucking clowns."

  "They were trying to steal Whitney's car!" Brynn says, pointing at the clowns and then to the car parked in Jensen's and Riley's driveway.

  The fear in her voice is palpable. And her whole body fucking tenses up.

  "Wait here, Babe," I tell her. "I'll handle these fucking idiots."

  "You'll never catch them," she starts to protest. "It's a good thing we showed up in time. Let's just go make sure that Whitney and the boys are okay and that…"

  But I'm chasing after one of the fucking assholes before Brynn can finish her sentence. The clown looks back at me with terror spreading across his stupid gothic- looking clown face. Both he and Brynn underestimated how fast I can run.

  As he tries to turn back around to keep running, he trips and falls over a tree branch.

  I grab him and say, "Stupid clumsy clown."

  Suddenly there are a bunch of other clowns, pounding their fists into me. But they're weak amateurs compared to me. I know I can knock them fucking senseless, and I do.

  I turn around swinging, knocking them out left and right. I punch them right on their creepy, ugly noses and I kick them once they're down.

  Their scary faces meet the cold hard force of my years of military and martial arts training. And that fucking stops them all right. Some are out cold. The rest run or crawl away.

  "Yeah, run away like the cowards you are!" I hurl at them. "You think you can mess with me? Stay away from this fucking house."

  None of them respond as the last of the bunch slinks off, but I'm pretty sure they got the message.

  "I got them!" I yell back at Brynn. "Go inside and check on Whitney and the boys. And call the cops. But wait until I'm gone."

  "Wait until you're gone?" she sputters.

  "Please get in the house," I tell her.

  She runs and opens the door.

  "Is everything okay in there, Brynn?" I shout, before she has the chance to close the door.

  "Yes," she answers, sticking her head back out. "I'll call the cops. But can't you come in?"

  "No. I'll wait in the lobby of your hotel if you're able to sneak back out," I tell her. "But I can't stay here."

  I run and jump back onto my bike and speed off down the street, casting one regretful look in the direction of the house. I hope she'll still come and meet me. But I can't be caught by the cops.

  I'm out of here, even if it means losing out on the night of passion I'd planned with Brynn.

  I might not get to fuck her senseless, but at least I saved her and her son from those creepy clowns. And now I have to save my own ass.

  Chapter 10 – Brynn

  Holy shit. What the hell is going on?

  What was supposed to be a fun Halloween has turned into a true nightmare.

  I'm glad that I have Riley's spare key and that I've made it safely inside. But I have no idea what's up with Larson.

  I rush into the house, to find Whitney watching reruns of The Real Housewives on Riley's Hulu account, calm as can be.

  "Whitney!" I exclaim.

  "What?"

  She looks up at me as if I'm interrupting her viewing.

  "Oh, Brynn. Hi. How was the party? Why are you back already?"

  "Whitney. There were some clowns out there trying to steal your car."

  "What? Really?"

  She looks out the front window and down the street, to where some clowns are lying unconscious on the ground, courtesy of Larson before he took off. I catch Whitney up on what has happened, as I call the police.

  "Well, I doubt any of them will be coming back trying to start trouble now," Whitney says, and I agree with her. "It's a good thing that Larson was with you, and that you guys came back here to check on us. Thank you."

  "You're welcome."

  "But I can handle talking to the police. You should go with Larson before his motorcycle carriage turns back into a pumpkin."

  I laugh.

  "I see what you did there, Whitney. Very nice. Very seasonal."

  "But seriously. This is your one kid- free night and I want you to take full advantage of it. Go see him."

  "But, Whitney, why couldn't he stay here until the cops came? He just took off, like some outlaw…"

  Whitney sighs, as if debating whether or not to tell me something.

  "Look, Brynn, I've heard some stuff through Riley. But it sounds like you and Larson hit it off really well. It's probably best if you just ask him straight up. I don't want to give you third hand information that I don't even know the whole story about, and which could be wrong."

  "You mean I should ask the guy I was about to go have a one night stand with, 'Why did you run away from the law?'"

  "Sure." Whitney shrugs. "If you want to know, of course."

  "Why wouldn't I want to know?"

  "Well, you know. Maybe you just want a wham bam thank you ma'am? You're only in town for one night…"

  "So maybe I don't want to know. Maybe I just want to enjoy it. You're right."

  Whitney is so goddamn smart. I don’t know why I always have to overthink everything.

  "If for some reason you like him or see a future with him, then go ahead and ask him about his past," Whitney says. "But if not, then just live in the present and continue the fun night you were having with him."

  "You're so wise," I tell her. "I think I'll take your advice."

  "Which part?" she asks.

  "I'm not sure yet. I'm going to go give Caleb a goodnight kiss while I think about it."

  "Don’t wake him up!" Whitney groans. "He made me read all four of his Thomas the Tank Engine books before he went to sleep."

  "Yeah, he can be demanding like that," I laugh.

  I tiptoe into the spare bedroom and find Caleb asleep in his monkey costume. I know without Whitney having to tell me that he refused to take it off to change into pajamas. He loves that damn outfit so much.

  I kiss him on the forehead and look down on him, instinctively knowing which part of Whitney's advice I’m going to take.

  I may have just met Larson, but it felt like we had a real connection. The sexual tension is through the roof, but I thought there was something more serious lurking underneath.

  But I know I need to delete that thought from my mind. As Whitney said, there's no use in prying into Larson's past if I don't want a future with him. So I will keep it as just one night of fun and remind myself not to get too nosy and ask a bunch of questions.

  I can't risk involving Caleb in a relationship right now. He's still getting over the turbulence of his dad leaving. If I ever get into a serious relationship, it needs to be with someone steady and responsible. Not a bad boy biker who runs from the law.

  I walk downstairs to give Whitney a hug goodbye.

  I think about how nice it is for Riley to have such steady connections and how things might have been different if I had stayed here in Albuquerque after law school like she did. I even think about what life would be like if Caleb and I were to move back here now
that there's no father figure in the picture, anchoring me to our life in New York City.

  I shake my head and tell myself to snap out of it. My job is in New York. There's no job here that could provide the kind of life that Caleb deserves.

  I don't know why I even thought of it. I was obviously just a little homesick, and probably burnt out from working so hard at my firm.

  "Thanks again," I tell Whitney. "Text me if you need anything or if the police want to talk to me."

  "Sure," she says.

  She pauses— obviously debating whether or not to pry and then deciding to— and asks, "So, what are you going to do?"

  "About Larson?" I ask.

  She looks at me funny and nods, as if to say, What else could there possibly be to decide?

  "I'm going to let him wham bam me," I tell her. "And then I'll be on my way back to New York, where I belong."

  "I thought you'd say that," she says, with a grin. "Have fun. Don't do anything I wouldn't do… with my husband who is out of town, and so I can't, of course."

  "Oh, I think I probably will," I tell her, as I think about Larson's hands all over me on the dance floor. How he tried to finger me right then and there. And how I should have let him.

  I have a feeling I'm in for a night of pleasure beyond anything I've ever experienced, now that those crazy clowns are out of the picture and now that I'm not worrying myself about my one night stand's past.

  What a crazy, scary, fun night it's been. I just have to hurry up and get to Larson so we have enough time to continue the fun part.

  Chapter 11 – Larson

  "Thanks again so much for saving the day," Brynn says, once we're in her hotel room. "Whitney's really grateful too, and she's got everything handled."

  I wait for her to mention the cops or ask why I'd run off, but she doesn't. And I'm glad. Because that would ruin the mood.

  "That's good," I say, pulling her close to me. "Because I want to handle you now."

  I don't want to think about anything that happened before her. I don't want to talk. I'm not that kind of guy. I just want to fuck her.

  Sure, she smells like autumn: freshly raked leaves mixing with the cool air under a full moon. And she's probably the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on.

  But she's also a fancy pants lawyer who hobnobs with fucking douchebag billionaires who give her VIP service at their fancy private house parties. And I'm a biker who runs from the law. So I just want to focus on tonight and all the things I want to do to her.

  I grab her bare ass cheeks, hard, as I kiss her.

  "I'm glad you're going to finally let me do what I wanted to do all night at the party," I say.

  I place her hands up against the wall and shove my cock up against those red panties.

  "You're such a fucking tease," I tell her, grinding against her bare ass. "But I knew you'd give me what I want."

  I lift up her skirt and pull her thong to the side so that her entire pussy and ass are exposed to me. With my other hand I rip her blouse down so that her tits fall out and I pinch one of her nipples in between my fingers.

  "You like this, don't you?" I ask her, as I begin taking my pants off and putting a condom on.

  All the while I've got one hand on my cock, rubbing it all over her ass and around her pussy, teasing her like she teased me all night.

  "Yes," she moans.

  "You want my hard cock inside you, don't you?"

  "Yes, please," she says, begging for it the same way she was at the party, when those pretty eyes of hers wouldn't leave mine while she sucked the lime that was in my hand.

  I bend her over even more and spread her legs further apart. Now the head of my cock is right up against the opening of her pussy. I can feel and see how dripping wet she is for me.

  I smack her ass once, twice, until she cries out in that way I was waiting for. The way that's something in between a moan and a whimper. The way that tells me just how ready for me she really is.

  "Ouch," she says, and then, "Oh my God," as if she likes the pleasure mixed with the pain.

  She wants me now just as much as I want her. I can tell.

  I slide my cock into her pussy and she gasps.

  "It's so big," she says, but I take my hand and cover her mouth.

  "Let me do the talking," I tell her.

  I don't need her to tell me what I already know: that my cock is huge. I need her to show me how much she enjoys what I do with it.

  I pound it in and out of her until she starts to scream.

  "Yes! Yes! Oh my God. Larson. I'm coming!"

  "That's it," I tell her. "Be a good little cheerleader slut and come all over your quarterback's big hard cock."

  She leans back against me, quivering and moaning.

  That's exactly the way I want her.

  It's all I can do to keep myself from coming too. Those hips, that ass, those curves. I've never seen or felt so many gorgeous assets all on one woman.

  But there's still more that I want to do to her.

  "Larson, that felt so good," she says, panting.

  "Hold on tight, because we're not done yet."

  I turn her around and looking into her beautiful eyes.

  I begin to realize I'm in deep trouble. Because I love fucking her, and feeling her so close to me, and I don't want this night to ever fucking end.

  Chapter 12 – Brynn

  I can't believe this man that I just met has the power to possess me to this extent. I can feel him throughout my entire body. I don't think I’m ever going to be the same after this. And he isn't even done yet.

  He picks me up and I wrap my legs around him. I love looking at his chiseled chest, sculpted abs, and colorful tattoos. Not to mention, of course, that he has the biggest, hardest cock I've ever seen or felt.

  He puts it back in me and thrusts it in and out as my back is up against the same wall my arms had just been up against.

  It seems like the entire room is shaking but like my body is shaking even more. He sticks a finger in my ass hole and I don't even care. In fact, I like it. I like everything he does to me.

  "Tell me you're my dirty little slut," he says, as his cock pulses inside me.

  "I'm your dirty little slut," I tell him.

  I like doing what he says. I like that he takes charge.

  He takes the same nipple he had just been twisting with his fingers into his mouth and sucks on it. A ripple of electricity shoots through my entire body. With his other hand he plays with my clit while he fucks me.

  "You make your dirty little slut feel so good," I tell him.

  I surprise myself with the words coming out of my mouth, but I can't help it. He makes me lose all control. I must be under some kind of Halloween spell he put on me, using his cock as the magic wand.

  "I'm going to come again," I say, as he moves the hand that was on my nipple back down to my ass.

  "Good," he says. "Because I'm going to come too. And then the next time I see you, I'm going to fuck you even harder."

  All the synapses are firing in my brain and it takes me a minute to realize what he said. The next time he sees me.

  But as his cock pulses inside me and we both come together, I know that I want to see him again too. I just can't go forever without feeling his cock again. And his touch. And his warmth.

  This time he lays me down on the bed and lets me pant. I'm glad, because I'm exhausted.

  He wraps a strong arm under me and holds me tight. I put my face on his bicep and momentarily marvel at the fact that just a couple hours ago, I was afraid of clowns but now I feel safe and whole in his arms.

  Holy shit, I think.

  I'm going to have to ask him about his past. I need to find out what's up with him to know if we really have a chance at making this something more than a trick or treat one night stand.

  But I don't have much time to think about it, because I barely hear him say "sweet dreams, my sweet" before I drift off into a peaceful and relaxing sleep.

>   Chapter 13 – Larson

  The next morning, I'm awake before Brynn is up. It’s an old habit of mine since basic training— to get up early in the morning, usually before anyone else. Even though I want to fuck her again, I decide to let her rest.

  It's probably rare that she's able to get a chance to sleep in. And I know she's so tired from our fucking hot sex session last night.

  I'm letting myself into the hotel room, carrying a tray of food, when she wakes up and smiles at me.

  "Room service," I announce professionally.

  "Aren't you a sight for tired eyes," she says. "And so is that chocolate chip muffin you're carrying."

  "I can't exactly make you breakfast, so I figured that bringing it up from the hotel restaurant would be the next best thing."

  I sit next to her in bed and feed her the muffin. Then we eat the rest of the food before she says, "I'd love to stay. But I need to…"

  "Get back to Caleb," I finish her sentence for her.

  "Yeah," she says. "I'm sorry."

  "It's okay," I tell her. "I completely understand."

  "You do?" she says. "Because I always thought that only another parent could know what it's like to…"

  She stops, apparently suddenly realizing that she might have said the wrong thing.

  "To worry about a child? To take care of a loved one?" I ask her.

  She nods.

  I turn away, the heat burning in my face.

  Maybe this was a mistake. I'm not ready to talk about it. To let anyone else in. Not after what happened. I never want to get that close to someone again.

  "Do I have time to shower?" I ask her.

  "Sure," she says.

  I walk to the nice marble tiled bathroom— Clay sure knows how to put his lawyers up in style when they’re in town for his parties— and step into the shower, glad for the chance to break away from her. But even in here, I can't stop the aching my body feels to be close to her.

  Great.

  I have a fucking boner.

  She comes into the bathroom as if she somehow knows.

  "Mind if I join you?" she asks. "We don't have to talk."

 

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