Page 19 of Bucked Hard

“Okay.” She turns the ignition and sure enough it starts right up, but I’m not letting her go.

“Shut it down, I see something else,” I lie, again, hoping Jesus understands.

I wipe my hands on my pants even though I’ve done nothing to get them dirty.

With an exaggerated show, I shift back from the front of the truck, stand straight and come around to the open driver’s door. She’s sitting there side saddle, her feet hanging out the open door, hands folded in the soft fabric of her skirt.

“What’s wrong?” I see the sparkle in her eyes and the hint of a smile that ignites her dimple and drops of cum soak a spot in my boxers.

“Not one thing.” I reach in and capture her hand from her lap, feeling the warmth of her skin between my fingers as I entwine mine with hers.

“What are you doing?”

“Holding your hand.”

She gives me that mouse-ready-to-bolt look again but she doesn’t pull away.

I continue. “It was no mistake.” I look over her shoulder toward the roses. “Those are all for you.”

“But I thought you were there with a date. So, that’s kind of a dick move to give me more flowers than your girlfriend.”

I look down, fighting my chuckle. The muscles in my back are tight just trying to keep me from launching forward and covering her with my body.

She’s digging for information and it sits just fine with me. The thing I notice is she hasn’t said anything about a boyfriend or a husband wondering why she’s coming home with a basket full of roses.

“No date, Dove. Those were friends of Roger’s.” I gesture with my head toward where the Rover disappeared a minute ago. “I’m as single as they come. Haven’t even been on a date in longer than I can remember. Guess I was waiting for the right girl to come along.”

“Why do you keep calling me that?Dove.” I pull her hand toward me, examining it in the moonlight, coaxing her to lean forward.

What is it about her that lights my fuse like this? Every time I meet her eyes it’s like a current zaps me.

“Because. You remind me of a dove. Pure and innocent with a look in her eye like she wants to fly away somewhere.”

She pulls her knees together as my thumb rubs back and forth on the side of her hand. I give her a little tug, grabbing her attention and holding it with my eyes.

“Your name tag at the bar said ‘Lori,’ but you don’t look like a ‘Lori’ to me, you look like a dove.”

“Rachel.” She blurts it out. “Lori’s a fake name. I don’t like using my real name there.”

“Well,Dove.” I emphasize the word, because it means so much more already than a simple white bird. It takes on a life of its own. “I can get your truck going here, but I’m wondering if you plan to thank me for the rosesandfor fixing it.” My voice is playful, but I need things from her and I want her to need them from me too.

Her eyes go wide and my gentle tug on her hand becomes a pull. She slips down off the seat giving in to me and my entire body comes alive.

Her feet hit the ground in front of me and I want to hold onto this moment. She is all woman, her tits bountiful. That top is cut too low and then some, but there’s no better view in all the world.

“Thank you?” She mutters, unsure, and I like that she’s unsure.

I grin. “Hmm.” I snap my lips together. “Not quite sure that’s good enough.” I lead her along behind me to the back of the truck. I’m in heat and she’s giving me a wide-eyed, innocent look, but I see that twinkle in her eye, and the fuse she lit is burning down fast.

“Well, maybe that’s all I have.”

“Oh no, Dove, that is not all you have.” The beast she’s awakened comes roaring to life, but I choke him back.

I am teetering between the urge to throw her down in the dirt and take what’s mine with all the fury of a caveman, and the civilized part of me that wants break her in gently. She’s a fragile bird, I feel that, but this moment has once in a lifetime written all over it.

“I have a boyfriend.” She blasts me with both barrels with a direct hit to my heart. But, just as quickly, my sixth sense kicks in, and I hear the slightest hesitation in her voice.

She’s lying.

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