Page 6

He hones in on my hesitation.

“Evelyn, come on. Don’t be all uptight and shit. I’m not going to maul you. I just think we need to be a little bit comfortable. “

I know I will regret this, but I move across the seat. He has one leg bent up, leaning against the seat, so I leant back against his chest between his legs, and stretch my legs out across the bench seat. His other leg is stretched out along the floor of the back seat.

“Better?” he says, all pleased with himself.

“I suppose,” I tease. “At least my legs seem to have circulation again.” I pull the blanket up around us.

We listen to the music coming out of his phone for a while. The snow has completely covered the windshield and door windows, giving the interior of the truck a strange dim glow, which I try to think of as cozy and not scary.

“Storm... how did you know what to do yesterday? When I had a panic attack?”

He sighs the movement of his chest pushing my body up. “My little sister used to have these really bad night terrors, and that’s what my parents did to calm her down and to get her head focused again. It worked for her so I thought it was probably similar.”

Hmm. When I was younger, I went through years of therapy and that kind of solution was never mentioned. Instead, I had to sit and tell various shrinks about my feelings while they tried to figure out what kind of abuse must have happened to me to cause the panic attacks. And, of course, they never figured that out. Oh, and I tried pretty much every pill on the market for anxiety too, which only caused me to either gain weight or go completely mentally numb or both. No thanks.

“How old is your sister now?”

“Uh... she’s nineteen.”

“How old are you?”

“Are we playing twenty questions?”

“Yes! I’m bored. Just go with it.”

“How old do you think I am?”

I slap his hand that he has resting on my stomach. “You can’t answer a question with a question! You have to wait your turn.” He grabs my hand and holds onto it. “I’m thirty. Now, how old are you?”

“I’m twenty-six.”

He lets out a whistle. “So you started dating your boyfriend when you were fourteen?”

“Yup.”

“That’s really frickin’ crazy.”

“No, it isn’t. It’s called commitment.”

His hand is big and warm. I slowly intertwine my fingers with his, the warmth flowing from him into me. He doesn’t pull away but starts to slowly rub his thumb along the top of mine. I feel tingly, and it’s probably wrong for us to be holding hands, but I don’t care right now. The warmth feels too good to let go.

“Is he the only guy you’ve ever been with?”

What? Did he seriously just ask me that?

“That’s a really rude question, Storm.”

“Why? It’s not rude. I’m just curious.”

“It’s very personal.”

“I’m going to take all this as the answer is yes, you’ve only fucked him.”

“So what, Storm? I’m not a slut. I don’t want to be sleeping with all sorts of men. I’ve never wanted that.”

“I know that. But don’t you ever just wonder what it would be like to be with another man?”

“A dick is a dick. I really don’t have a need for variety. It’s not what I’m into.”

“Variety is good, that’s all I’m saying.”

“Maybe for you, Storm, but I’m fine.”

“If you say so.”

“I don’t say so, I know so.”

“You don’t have to get all defensive. I’m not judging you, really.

He shifts beneath me a bit and leans his head against mine. Being so close to him feels both strange and exhilarating. Part of me wants to get as far away from him as possible, but then a seemingly bigger part of me wants to stay right where I am, enveloped in the warmth of him, and keep feeling the strange tingling that’s running through my body. It’s a welcome distraction right now to feel this instead of the fear that keeps creeping up on me. I begin to slowly glide my fingers up and down his, my small fingers sliding in between his large fingers, then slowly over the back of his hand.

His face is bent down beside mine, his mouth near my ear. “No one’s ever touched my hand like that before.” His voice is soft and raspy, just slightly above a whisper. I freeze, not moving, not breathing. Shit. What am I doing? “Don’t stop. Please.” His grip on my hand tightens a little, not wanting me to pull away, which I am definitely thinking of doing. Our hands begin a dance of silent caressing, our fingers tangling, traveling slowly up and down the length of each other’s—and honestly, I’ve never felt anything so sensual in my life.

I couldn’t stop if I wanted to.

He moves his leg slightly and my body moves with him. That’s when I feel his cock pressing against my ass. A tiny gasp escapes me, and I freeze for a moment, but he gently pushes against me, his head still bent down against mine, brushing his nose gently against my ear. He feels huge and hard against me, and I can’t stop myself from arching back slightly and rubbing against him. The faint erotic groan that comes from this massive muscular stranger behind me ignites something in me I don’t even recognize. His left hand moves slowly down my side and rests on my hip, gently pulling me against him as he grinds against me. I can’t lie. He feels incredible even through his jeans. I close my eyes and lean back further, my head resting on his right shoulder, the side of his face still buried in my hair. Our right hands are still clasped together. He slowly guides our hands between my legs to gently rub against my pussy through the thin material of my slacks. Holy damn shit. A surge of a thousand tiny lightning bolts races through my body.

He slowly moves his hand away from mine. “Touch yourself,” he whispers in my ear as he rests his right hand on my other hip, slowly pulling me back against his cock to meet his subtle thrusts against me. I am so turned on that I feel delirious and dizzy. I unbutton my slacks, pull the zipper down and slide my hand down under my panties. I begin to rub my clit in slow circles while arching my back against him and pressing his hard cock further against my ass. My mind goes blank as we grind against each other, my finger lost in the wet folds of my sex. I feel his lips on my ear, brushing a kiss against me, his breath becoming more ragged. I have never touched myself in front of someone before, but knowing he is watching actually turns me on rather than humiliates me.

“Come for me, Evie...”

His words send me over the edge, and within seconds, my entire body is shaking and quivering as I explode into orgasm, my free hand digging into his leg as I arch back against him, wanting to feel more of him. He moves his hand back over mine and cups both of our hands over my wet mound as he grinds harder, his cock wedged between my ass cheeks. I push my body slowly up and down his just a tiny bit, feeling the length of him. He finally shudders beneath me, his hands gripping me tighter, his breath hot and heavy against my ear.

We sit in silence in the dark, panting against each other. I have no idea what the hell just happened. I feel like I am slowly coming out of a trance. I try to sit up, but he pulls me back against him, his arm across my chest. “No.” His voice is still raspy. It’s sexy as hell. “Don’t move yet.”

As I come down from my orgasmic stupor, I am utterly ashamed of myself. How could I have done such a thing? It all happened so fast. Shit. I just dry humped a random stranger’s dick with my ass. I really need to get out of this truck fast and get away from this guy before he completely undoes me. I have never touched another man. There has only been Michael in every way. I feel completely sick to my stomach. I push his arm off me and sit up, disentangling myself from him as if he’s an octopus on fire. I move across the seat and button up my pants, not looking at him.

“Well, that was one way to keep you quiet and non-sarcastic,” he finally says.

“You’re a dick.”

“Ah, there’s my girl. I knew you’d come back.”

“This isn’t funny, Storm. I just cheated on my boyfriend.”

“I would not call that cheating. At all.”

I look at him like he’s nuts. “What? Are you crazy? Of course, it was.”

“I didn’t touch your tits or your pussy. We didn’t even fucking kiss.”

“Oh, so those are the body parts that constitute cheating? What about mental cheating?

“Mental cheating?” he repeats. “Okay... I wasn’t even thinking about you while we did that. I was thinking about pizza.”

“Pizza?” I repeat, annoyed.

“Hey, I’m trying to make you feel better here. If you were thinking about fucking me while we did that and I was thinking about pizza, then it’s not cheating. It takes two to cheat. See? Problem solved. No cheating happened.”

“We’re not talking about this anymore, Storm. Just leave me alone, please.”

He pulls out his cigarettes. There is a big wet spot on the front of his jeans that I try really hard not to look at. “We’re stuck in like a six foot box, Evie. I’m pretty sure I can’t leave you alone, babe. But, I am gonna take the dog out and grab a smoke and try to regroup a little. I’ll bring some food in, too.”

Relief comes as soon as he is out of the truck. His presence is so overpowering to me. It’s as if he seeps into my mind and skin. He both creeps me out and fascinates me, like a strange human train wreck who I want to get away from, but also want to peek at, take a taste of. It’s unnerving.

Chapter Three

I’ve never been afraid of silence or felt uncomfortable in the quiet. I’ve never been the type who needs to speak or ramble incessantly just to fill the dead air. I’m okay with my own company. It’s so quiet now, both inside the truck and outside. There is literally no sound. No cars driving by, no airplanes flying overhead, no phones ringing, no birds chirping in the woods. I close my eyes for a moment and just listen to the nothingness. Sometimes, like now, I can control my panic and steer it away and turn it into a feeling of fascination rather than fear. The intense silence has the potential to be petrifying and set me off, but at the same time, the silence feels incredibly beautiful and peaceful. How often does a person really get to experience total silence?