Page 3 of Joy Ride
“That so?” I trudge through the snow to get closer.
“Yeah. It isn’t clearing anytime soon. Power’s out, and the cell tower is down.” He pops the passenger door open, and I climb up into his cab.
“You’re a good man, Hank.” I say, wiping the snow from my face and flinging it off outside before I close the door. “The power went out at my place before I left, but I wasn’t expecting the storm to be this bad.” Hank cranks on the engine, and the damn thing fires up as loud as a jet.
“It’s nothing to drop you off, Travis. I’m heading back to Main, going right by your place.”
“Well, I appreciate it just the same. I owe you a round or two after the New Year.”
Hank plows a path through my parking lot, all the way up to my front door. I thank him again, and we both wish each other a Merry Christmas before I go inside.
Merry ten days off to me.
I’m too wound up to head upstairs to bed, so I pour myself another whiskey and then another before I’m thoroughly buzzed and ready to start my week of nonstop sleep and days off. I turned the generator on before I left, so the place is toasty. Although there’s a draft coming in from somewhere, I’ll check it in the morning.
The second I’m in my small apartment above the bar, I kick off my boots and don’t bother with turning on the lights. After shrugging out of my jeans, I leave them where they fall on the living room floor and keep going straight to my bedroom. Exhausted and a little off kilter from all the booze, I drop down on my bed.
The cool pillowcase against my cheek eases my weary brain. Embers in the fireplace crackle with warmth, and the temperature’s just right for a snowy night like this. In a matter of seconds, I’m pulled into a deep, heavy slumber.
In my dreamy haze, the bed is even warmer tonight because there’s a beautiful woman sleeping next to me. Her soft sighs lull me into a contentedness that erases every trace of tension in my bones. Her smooth skin brushes over my rough legs like a velvet cloth.
I’m such a fucking lucky son of a bitch to be sleeping with her.My woman’s hair, even the wisp touching my cheek, is like silk. I’ve never had a dream seem so real. I roll over on my back and inhale her scent, smelling it so clearly — like warm honey with something musky and womanly that makes my cock stir.
She’s mine. In my foggy state, I’m not sure who she is or where we met, but I know she loves me and always wants me—anytime. Anywhere.
I stroke my pulsing cock and shift a few inches closer to her, getting even harder when I think of how, sometimes, she’ll sneak around to my side when I’m sleeping and suck my cock. I’ll get so hard I’ll wake up, and she’ll beg me to fuck her.
When I gently slip my arm around her small, curvy waist, she rolls over, and I brush the hair away from her face, stroking her soft cheek while her breathy sighs whisper against my lips. I lean in for a kiss.
“What the fuck!” she screams.
Huh?
“You fucking perve!”
I bolt upright and rub my eyes because I can’t see a fucking thing. I shake myself awake and blink.
And blink again. Even in the dim light, I can see something or someone staring at me. “Wh-what the f—Fuck me!” I scramble out of bed and flick the light on. There’s a real woman, an actual fucking blonde-haired woman in my goddamn bed! I keep waiting for the fucking hallucination to go away, but the non-dream girl doesn’t disappear and crawls out from under the blankets.
Fuck is she gorgeous. I pinch the bridge of my nose. Is she for real? How the hell? She’s wearing my shirt...with most of the buttons undone. Her pert tits peek out from under the fabric.Damn she’s young.I’m forty-one, and I doubt she’s even twenty. Around five foot three, not too skinny, curvy but fit. Just right.
A streak of terror flashes across her striking blue eyes before her gaze drops to my dick. I look down to find my hard on is like a metal detector sticking straight out searching for gold—and her pussy is it.Am I still dreaming? What the fuck is happening here?
I growl, grabbing my bathrobe at the foot of the bed and fling it at her. “Put it on.”
It takes a second for the command to register, but she slips into the robe. Hell, it doesn’t cover that made for sin, spectacular body near enough. I’m fucking dripping precum. “Get under the covers right now!” I point to the bed. “And keep the damn robe on.”
“Under the blankets?” She shrieks.
“Yes, under the blankets,” I hiss, storming to my closet where I throw on a tee-shirt and shrug into some goddamned pants.No fucking peace.“What the fuck are you doing here?” I ask, zipping my jeans up over my hard cock and coming back into the room.
She grabs the covers and brings them all the way up to her neck. “I blew out a tire, but it was snowing so hard, I wasn’t able to change it and I—”
Adrenaline blasts through me, shaking me fully awake when I spot the gun on the nightstand less than two feet away from her hand.So, she’s a Glock fan too. I guess we have something in common. Keeping my eyes peeled on her, I quickly sneak my hand through my closet door and feel around the niche for the weapon I have stashed, just for this type of occasion. Wasn’t necessarily planning for a Goldilocks assassin, but I’m ready.
She watches me lackadaisically, like the natural born thief or con artist, or whatever she is. Hell, with looks like hers, people would do anything she said just to fuck her. She’s probably the leader of a band of criminals.
“Now, don’t move,” I say through tight lips, inching closer to the nightstand.
