Page 25 of Easy Rider
Chapter Eleven
I’m on cloud nine.I don’t think my feet have touched the ground all day. I haven’t stopped thinking about Ryder, reliving every touch and taste, every kiss, every sigh and moan. And of course, my poor, happy little pussy doesn’t know what hit her.
Ryder isnota small man. And after being superbly well fucked fifty million times, thank you very much, I’m little sore. But only in that achingly good, let’s-do-it-again way. When he dropped me off at my car at Boondocks, I could barely pull myself away from him.
And he said it again. Forever.I could be with you forever. He’s said it twice now, and I never imagined hearing anything close to that from Ryder. Does he mean it? Or is this just a consequence of the whole hormonal afterglow, pheromone-after-sex thing I’m always reading about?
So now my head is spinning, whirling out of control. It’s like I’m floating on some sort of spacey skateboard and I never want to touch down back to earth. I grab my makeup bag off the green-and-yellow tiled bathroom counter.
The light is pretty good in here, but the rest of the house is dark and kind of spooky. I’m probably on edge because I’ve never been in Misty’s house at night without her. She’s on a super-tight budget so I don’t feel right about turning on all the lights, but I’m tempted.
I find my mascara, lean close to the mirror, and apply the first coat carefully, hoping my eyelashes won’t clump. We had to cut our girls’ day short. Misty’s mom wasn’t feeling well, so I ended up dropping Misty off at her mom’s a few hours ago. She’s going to spend the night there, and Misty’s mom will drive her and Carter back tomorrow.
It’s not a big deal. Getting back here early gave me plenty of time to compile my notes and send them to Dad. And I didn’t have to rush to get ready for Shane’s party. I spent a half hour on my hair. I’m already dressed in my best jeans and silky top with the pearl buttons. Ah, buttons—of course my mind goes straight to how much Ryder loves my red shirt-dress. I hope this outfit is okay.
I plunk my mascara back in the bag and pull out my lipstick. It’s not too dark, more of a mauve-y pink, and just adds a little color. I open the lipstick and have just started to apply it when I hear another noise.
I straighten, holding my breath, and stare at the open bathroom door through the mirror. I see nothing but shadows in the hall. I guess I’m not used to all the creaks and groans this old house makes. My eyes stay fixed on the open door as I wait a few beats.
I don’t hear the strange sound again, so I finish my makeup. In five minutes, I’m on my way.
