by Amy Ruttan
“Can’t litter,” he whispered as he laid a featherlight kiss on my lips and tucked the wrapper in one of the Harley’s saddlebags on the back of the bike.
“Now, where were we?” he asked lazily as he stepped between my legs and began to stroke my pussy.
“You’re so wet,” he whispered in my ear, arousal thick in his voice. He parted my labia and with two fingers he began to circle my clit. “I think you know what I want, don’t you, angel?”
I nodded as warmth filled my belly. I wanted to thrust my hips up against his fingers, but in this position, sitting on the back of the bike, I was limited in my movements. The only thing holding up the Harley now was a kickstand, and I was afraid of knocking it over onto its side.
“Tell me,” he demanded, his voice rough and raw with need. “Tell me what I want to do to you.”
“You want to fuck me on the back of your bike.”
Bastien moaned. “That’s right, ma chere, I do. Turn around.”
I slid off the seat and turned my back to him. I held on to the Harley, resting my arms against the warm leather as I felt Bastien’s hands on my hips. Thrusting back up at him, I waited for him to take me. I was wet and ready for him.
“What should I do next, angel?”
“Take me, Bastien. Do me.”
Bastien moaned again and my plea was answered as his cock entered me swiftly, stretching me, filling me so completely. My nails dug into the seat as he began to thrust in and out of me.
Fucking me hard, fiercely.
He held my hips, guiding them back as he pumped into me. My breasts bounced against the seat, my nipples grazing the warm leather. I bit my lip to keep from screaming out, but it was no use. Soon I felt the contractions begin as my orgasm built deep inside me.
Bastien sensed it, he pulled my hips tight against his cock as his thrusts became more shallow, faster. I felt the muscles inside my pussy clench and heard his guttural cry as he came with me.
It was hard and intense, and I held the seat of the bike tightly, resting my face against the leather. My body spinning, legs shaking from the aftermath of the orgasm.
Bastien helped me stand, my back pressed against his chest. He was still breathing heavily as his strong arms wrapped around me. We didn’t say anything to each other. We just stood there in a strange sort of pantomime. I watched the waves crash against the sandy beach as Bastien’s free hand stroked the skin on my shoulder.
The world around us seemed to pause, and I found myself wanting to stay in this moment with him forever. Something, he probably didn’t want.
Doubt overtook my senses then and I broke out of his embrace and began to pick up my clothes.
“What are you doing?” Bastien asked.
“Getting dressed…or are we going for a naked hike?” I teased.
Bastien chuckled. “Well, how about a swim. The other three lots beside me are vacant, and most of the cottagers aren’t up during the week. We would have this little stretch of the beach to ourselves.”
“Are you serious?” I asked in disbelief. “Someone could be around. Someone might see us.”
Bastien shrugged and that mischievous smile crept across his face, his eyes sparkling. “Come on, live a little. I dare you.”
I laughed and looked back at the beach. “Okay, last one in is the rotten egg.” I dropped my trousers and ran toward the lake.
We never made it to the water.
Chapter Five
Eventually, after our romp in the woods, we made it back to my place where we luxuriated in a long bath, and then another session of slow, sensual lovemaking where I drifted off snuggled against his chest. I woke when I felt someone staring at me.
Opening one eye, I saw Bastien was watching me again. It wasn’t so much the fact he was staring at me—it was the way he was looking at me. I couldn’t put my finger on it all I knew was I suddenly felt self-conscious. Even though I shouldn’t, I just couldn’t bat away the nagging self-doubt. This day, this seduction of Bastien was totally out of character for me. I had acted like a wanton and in the afterglow I felt embarrassed. What if he only thought of me now as an easy fuck? I sat up slowly pulling the sheets over my breasts.
“Tsk, tsk.”
“What, did I commit some kind of faux pas?”
“What you just did. Shame.”
I looked around. “What did I just do?”
Bastien smiled deviously, a devilish glint to his eye—like he was enjoying his torment of me.
“Oh come on, tell me. What did I do?”
“You covered that gorgeous body of yours.” He pushed me back down against the pillows and peeled away the sheet, his dark eyes raking over my body, stirring the not-so-cool embers of my blood. “There, that’s better.”
I felt a blush rise to the surface of my skin. Bastien made me feel desirable, whereas my ex had never made me feel this way. With my ex it had always been lights out, legs open.
“You’re beautiful, angel. I don’t understand how you can’t see it.”
“Well, let’s just say my ex-husband never made me feel the way you make me feel.”
“Then he was a blind fool,” Bastien said with a surprising amount of ferocity. He loomed over me and parted my thighs with his knee. “He didn’t know what he had.” He sat back on his heels and split my legs open wider, trapping me there, making me vulnerable, and I could feel my pussy become wet with want and desire. I wanted him to touch me, taste me, fuck me.
His eyes traveled over my body like a starved man. “How can any sane man leave this?” he whispered, his hands lightly brushing a trail down my body.
“Very easily,” I said, closing my eyes. “There was a younger woman who had better tits and was at his beck and call.”
Bastien made the tsking sound under his breath again. “Then he’s a bioque.”
“A what?”
“An idiot, angel.”
“I love the Cajun dialect, everything is so colorful.”
Bastien smiled lazily as he continued to trail his fingers over my body. “Well, New Orleans is a very colorful, vibrant, city.”
“I bet. I’ve always wanted to go there.”
“It’s the best place in the world.”
“Then what made you leave the Big Easy for…for here? Not that there’s anything wrong with here, but it’s not as exciting as New Orleans and certainly not warmer.”
Bastien chuckled. “No, it’s certainly different. I like Canada, it’s why I became a citizen. I’ve been up here for seven years, but only in your town for a year.”
“So why leave New Orleans?”
His smile disappeared when I asked the question. His whole demeanor changed and I regretted prying into his personal life, but it only lasted for a moment. He shook his head and his boyish smile returned. “I needed a change. Besides, London is c’est magnifique, great.”
“You’ll have to teach me some more. They’re quite colorful.”
“There’s a lot I can teach you, angel.”
“I need some more curse words for my ex.” After my disastrous marriage I often wondered why I had married him, we didn’t fit together. Bastien’s began to stroke my leg with the back of his knuckles and my mind was soon wandering to other things, more pleasant thoughts like being on top of him, pinning him to the mattress and riding his cock slowly. His fingers trailed down to massage the inside of my thigh and I soon abandoned all thoughts of my ex-husband. Now was not the time to be thinking about him.
“What would you like, angel?” Bastien asked dreamily.
“I think…I think I would like to go for a ride if you don’t mind.”
He flashed a brilliant smile and I knew he wasn’t bothered by my request at all. He moved away and lay on his back, preening. Bastien had every right to be smug. I reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a condom, opening the package and unrolling the condom down his hard, ebony cock. My pussy grew wetter as I anticipated the thought of burying his hard shaft deep inside me. Leaning over h
im, I straddled his hips. Bracing my weight with one hand, I reached down and grabbed the base of his cock guiding it to the entrance of my cunt. Bastien inhaled sharply as I rubbed the head of his cock against my labia.
“Cherie, you’re killing me.”
I smiled. I had been waiting for him to use that particular endearment. I had always found his Cajun accent sexy, in particular that word.
“Please, ma cherie,” Bastien begged.
It was all the encouragement I needed. I lowered myself onto his cock. All the way down until he was buried deep inside me. He let out a moan and some more Cajun words that I would ask him about later.
I moved my hips slowly, sliding up and down his cock. Bastien’s hands grasped my hips as I rode him. His hand slipped down and found my clit, he began to rub it in time to my movement, and soon I began to quicken the pace.
“Angel,” he moaned as I moved faster. I could feel my orgasm building deep in the pit of my stomach. Bastien began to thrust upward, holding my hips with one hand. His fingers digging into my flesh, holding me tight against him as I fucked him, his other hand circling my clit as I came. My cunt clenched his cock and Bastien’s body tensed as he came soon after.
I collapsed against his chest, listening to the beating of his heart as a pesky thought crept into the back of mind, scaring me, thrilling me.
I could really fall for a guy like Bastien.
Chapter Six
Bastien was sleeping, lying on his stomach with arms tucked under his head, only a thin sheet covering his taut butt. He stayed the night—I hadn’t meant for it to happen. This was just supposed to be a quickie, and now, watching him sleeping, my mind began to entertain the idea of seeking something more.
After he made to love to me, we had been spooning, but I slipped away. I had to separate myself from him. When my husband had left me, I had guarded my heart against ever falling into the relationship trap again. I didn’t want to set myself up for disappointment and heartache—and I had wanted no strings attached.
I left and had a shower and changed, but this time into something “more me”. The clothes I lived in every day, comfy jeans and a T-shirt. My hair was still damp and in a ponytail, and not a bit of makeup on my face. My usual attire, the way I felt the most comfortable. I think my non-glam appearance was one of the reasons my husband left me.
“You’re an embarrassment. Why can’t you dress up the way other wives do?”
Shaking my head, I dispelled him from my mind. Frankly, it had been relief when he left me. I often chastised myself for not pulling the plug on our relationship sooner, but I had been afraid of being alone back then. After a year of marriage to my ex the scales fell of both of our eyes and we realized we didn’t see eye to eye on a lot of things. When he left, it lifted a huge burden off my shoulders. I welcomed the solitude of my quiet home, but now, after sharing a day and a night with Bastien, I never realized how empty my house actually was.
And it frightened me.
Watching Bastien, I wondered if that was the image he preferred as well. Someone who wore designer clothes, the elegant and feminine-looking woman who would meet him at the door with his slippers and his pipe, waiting for him to come home, just like my ex had expected me to do.
I didn’t expect any relationship from Bastien when I offered him sex. I barely knew him really. He was just my mailman.
A fling.
Now I wanted to know more. I wanted him for more than just a fleeting moment of ecstasy. The real question was if a thirty-two-year-old man would want to a divorcée hurtling toward forty.
“Hey,” he said a bit dreamily as he rolled over to his side and looked at me through sleepy eyes. “What time is it?”
“It’s nine a.m., do you have to be somewhere?”
“No, angel, I don’t. I just didn’t want to sleep the day away and not be able to sleep tonight.” He sent her a querulous look. “What are you doing way over there?”
“I didn’t want to sleep the day away either.” I stood up. Afraid of taking the chance, the doubt overtaking my common sense. “I have deadlines to meet, so I thought if you were resting I would get some work done.”
“Oh,” he said quietly. “Well…yeah I should grab a shower and head out. My roommates are probably wondering if I’m dead or something.”
I smiled, trying not to betray the disappointment.
What did you expect? You gave him the brush-off.
Bastien strode over to me, cupping my face in his strong, rough hands. He was staring down at me with an odd look on his face.
“What?” I suddenly felt very self-conscious about the way he was looking at me.
“Nothing, angel.” He leaned down and kissed me gently on the lips. The kiss was tender, like a butterfly kiss. It was as if he was saying goodbye, maybe thank you. It tasted bittersweet. He smiled at me again, his thumb brushing over my cheek, and then he walked away from me, heading to the bathroom for a shower.
Even though he hadn’t left my house, I felt empty—like he was already gone. As I looked around the room I saw the package, the thing that had started it all. It had fallen to the floor. I walked over to it and gave it a swift kick so it slid under my bed. Out of sight and unused. I couldn’t look at it.
Bastien had been right—he was exactly what I had needed and I was terrified.
* * * * *
I couldn’t bear an awkward goodbye. So, like the coward I was, I left a note. Even though I knew I was being an idiot, which was the biggest pet peeve in my business. Yet, I had done it. I had left a note making an excuse about having a meeting, and thanking him for a wonderful time. For it was what I set out to do. No-strings-attached sex. I decided to be brave for once in my life and break out of my shell.
Now, as I sat behind the wheel of my Jetta, parked in the mall parking lot and listening to boring talk radio, I regretted the path of stupidity that I had just ventured down.
I’m like a too-stupid-to-live heroine.
“If I were a character from one of my books, by all rights I should be dead.” Groaning, I gripped the steering wheel and proceeded to bang my head against it. I knew if I had written a character like this, it wouldn’t have been the leading lady. It would have been a secondary nuisance whom I would’ve killed off by now.
Why am I doing this?
I should be at my house, facing the fear of rejection and telling Bastien that I wouldn’t mind seeing him again—seeing if it could lead anywhere. Turning the key in the ignition, I drove home, hoping I wasn’t too late.
As soon as I pulled into the driveway, my stomach was in knots. I opened the door and hurried inside, but he was already gone. His sneakers were no longer by the door and the note had disappeared from the entrance table.
What did you expect? Still, my heart sank. Such was the fate of the too-stupid-to-live heroine. They made idiotic mistakes that cost them dearly and made readers want to punch them out before they threw the book at their wall.
Right now, the way I felt, I deserved that punch in the head. I dropped my keys on the table and made sure the front door was locked. I climbed the stairs slowly, like I was on some sort of forced march. The silence of my bedroom was overwhelming.
The emptiness had never bothered me before, even when I had been married. I relished the evenings when my ex worked late. I loved the solitude.
But after a day and a night in Bastien’s arms, I resented the empty bedroom. It felt too quiet. The bed was too large and seemed cold. It was then I saw the package was on my bed. Bastien had retrieved it from underneath. I couldn’t help but think it was a message from him.
Finality to the ecstasy we shared?
I didn’t know, and it didn’t matter. I had blown any chance I might have had with Bastien—and my mistake was a bitter pill to swallow indeed.
* * * * *
The weekend was hard. I couldn’t concentrate on anything. I sat in front of my blinking computer screen, angry with myself, and reliving the pleasure Bastien had given m
e over and over again. The connection we had. The fates were taunting me.
The more I mulled it over the more I came to the realization he was the type of guy I could really fall in love with—if I had been smart of enough to give it a chance to develop more and hadn’t been dumb enough to blow it.
When the doorbell rang it stirred me out of my morose thoughts, making my heart skip a beat. I hoped it was him, the two days we had been apart were hard. In a way I had dreaded Monday coming, I was afraid to face him, but I knew it had to be done.
As I opened the door I was expecting him to be standing there, like he always did with that incorrigible smile and the mail in his hand, yet no one was there. But something had been left on the steps. A single red rose, and as I bent down to pick it up I saw him at the end of my driveway, leaning against his Harley.
My knees began to shake at the sight of him in leather and denim, with big shit-kickers.
“Hi there,” he said pleasantly enough, but he didn’t smile and I couldn’t see his eyes through the dark sunglasses.
“Hey, yourself, don’t you have work?”
“I took the day off…I needed to figure some things out.”
“Things?”
Bastien didn’t answer. He reached behind him and held out a helmet. “Want to go for a ride?”
“Sure. Let me just grab my purse.”
I ran back into my house, grabbed my purse and keys and locked up. Bastien was already sitting astride the bike, his strong legs holding the machine up. The helmet I was to wear was sitting on the seat. He didn’t look back as I fastened the helmet, jammed my purse in the saddlebag and slipped behind him. I got the feeling his was pissed off, and rightly so. I was still beating myself up over my cowardice. I wrapped my arms around his waist. He turned the key and the bike shook with the rumble of the motor. Without a word to me he gunned the throttle and took off down the road.
Even though I had already ridden on his bike, I still wasn’t used to it. I clung to Bastien for dear life, resting my head against his back and closing my eyes, praying for a second chance as he drove us somewhere.
