The dash was warm under the soles of Chris’s feet. She curled her toes and pressed her belly against his, then bit her bottom lip when he chuckled and slowed his pace.
“Like that, don’t ya?” Tom tittered and lifted his shoulder to rub his damp brow against his jacket. “Christ, what I wouldn’t do to you if I could get you in bed for an hour.”
“Next time let’s go to a motel,” she grunted and dug her nails into the vinyl seat beneath her. “Or at least get into the backseat.”
“Naw got more give this way.” To emphasize his point Tom grasped the shoulders of the passenger seat and spread his legs a little more, locking hers apart. “And this is dirtier.”
“Fuck, yes …” Chris let her head drop against his broad chest and gritted her teeth as he started to pound her against the seat again. Absently, her mouth moved over his tattooed bicep. She used teeth against him to assert some control. His scent filled her nostrils, mingled with the musky tang of sex.
With a final heave, Tom buried himself deep and crushed her against the seat. She felt the vibrations of his heart drumming in tune with her own muffled pulse. Her head was so light it felt as though it would float up and bob against the roof of the car. The vague thought occurred to her that he would be clinging to her for the rest of the day and she found that she didn’t care.
He took a deep breath and withdrew, then clumsily climbed over the console to the driver’s seat. With a quick flick of his wrist he discarded the condom out the window and sagged back.
“Time is it?”
“Hmm?” Chris lolled her head to glance at her watch. “Twenty to two. You have to be back soon?”
He grinned. “Gave myself the day off.”
“Lucky you.” She tugged her bra up from where it had been shoved down to her waist. “I’ve got four more hours and I’m working the weekend.”
“I can always come back into town.” He lifted his hips and slid his jeans up over his thick thighs. “And since your evenings are otherwise occupied …”
His tone had teeth and Chris avoided looking his way. She flipped down the visor in front of her and dug into her purse for her lipstick “Stop that. You know I’m stuck until summer.”
“I told you, I’ve got that spare room.”
“Tom, knock it off. I can’t just move in with you. My folks already think I’m the wicked witch of the west for leaving my husband. I can only imagine their reaction if they found out I was fucking you on a regular basis.”
“How will that change in the fall?”
“It won’t, but by then the divorce will be final and he won’t have anything to hang over me. I don’t doubt one bit that Mom and Dad would tip him off and I don’t want to be painted as a whore. It would be too easy for people to believe I cheated on Keith and not the other way around.”
“Then I’ll give you a place—just for a little while,” He cut her off when she made to protest. “And you can pay me back.”
“You know it’ll never happen.” She plucked a cigarette from the catch-all on the dash and stuck it between her teeth. “It wouldn’t be hard to figure out how I got the place with no money and why I’m not paying for it. That’ll look good in court – unfit mother whores herself for free room and board. I can hear it now—‘Mrs. Roland, have you ever had sex with Mr. Lantz in front of the child?’”
“All right, stay the fuck home then!” He yanked the door open and the small car rocked when he squeezed out. For a moment he stood there, his spine straight as a pole and his hands forming fists on his hips. Chris waited, and then he turned and stuck his head in the window. “Want me to meet you here tomorrow?”
“I have stuff to do,” she lied, still stung by his ornery outburst. However, one glance at him melted her. His smarmy grin told her that he knew she was bluffing. “Maybe. Call the shop in the morning.”
She waited until he had taken off before making her way down the road herself. The euphoria that always followed sex with Tom had died by the time she reached the bridge leading into town and was replaced by resentment. There were few people who liked Tom Lantz. Up until just a few months ago she was one of them. He had grown up on the outskirts of town in an area designated as “white trash.” The Lantz family was notorious for its shenanigans dating back to the 1920s. There were few men in Tom’s family who hadn’t seen the inside of a jail cell at least once. Tom was no exception. In high school it was well known that Tom and his younger brothers were the ones to see if you were looking for booze or drugs—all he had to do was ring his father Marshall, who had never held an honest job in his life, and he would roll his truck past the school parking lot.
Like so many others Chris had been warned to keep away from anyone with the surname of Lantz and she had obeyed. Then he’d stormed into the shop filled with wrath over a furnace that had busted less than a week after her bosses had installed it. He’d yelled, he’d banged his cut and calloused fists on the top of the desk and demanded immediate satisfaction.
“I told you, they’re not here. They’ll be on a job until four o’clock,” she hissed back in his face. “Now you can go home and wait for them to get back to you, or you can sit your ass down and shut the fuck up while I page them to see if I can get one of them out of there early.”
She might as well have thrown warm piss on him if the look on his face was any indication. She doubted anyone had ever talked to him in such a way and if it was any other day she probably would have sat there taking it while holding back the tears. On that day, however, she’d spent half the morning sparring with a wholesaler in the city and the other half getting shit from Keith about getting back some of the stuff she’d left in the house. She didn’t care how big and intimidating Tom Lantz was. She’d be damned if another asshole tried to bully her.
He chewed his tongue for a moment and narrowed his eyes. Then he turned around and sank down on the tattered sofa that made up the waiting area. He said nothing more for at least half an hour while she went through her entire call list looking for someone to deal with him. He was so quiet she almost forgot that he was there after she’d gotten back to her invoicing. She jumped when he spoke to her.
“You’re Keith Roland’s wife, aren’t you?”
“Used to be.” She glared at him when he snorted. “Something funny about that?”
“Just thinking that it’s about time you wised up about that dick. You’re smarter than I gave you credit for.”
Chris held her breath and ignored him, a feat of monumental proportions considering he never took his eyes off of her. When her boss finally returned and got his earful she was glad to see him go, but Tom lingered long after her boss ran out to load up his truck. He perched himself on the edge of her desk and grinned.
“No offence, you know, about Keith. Good for you.”
“Thank you.” She raised her eyes when he remained. “Is there something else?”
“Wanna get a beer later?”
She almost laughed out loud and made a poor job of hiding her smile. “Sorry, I’ve got a kid.”
“So?”
“So I don’t date.”
“Then I’ll come back in a week and ask you. You might change your mind.”
True to his word he came back repeatedly. Unlike his brothers, he’d managed to make a good living buying the run-down apartment buildings on the west side of town and fixing them up. He rented them out to people who had been forced out of neighbouring towns when tourists started to buy up downtrodden neighbourhoods to build upscale suburbs. After his first visit to the shop he came by in person, always lingering to flirt with Chris. After three months of a meaningful relationship with her vibrator, Chris started to weaken. She could never be seen with him, not with half his family in jail and the other half involved in God-knows-what, but that didn’t stop her from meeting him for lunch by the lake. When she returned she was flushed and dishevelled and her head was pounding after the most explosive orgasm she’d ever experienced.
Dozens of lunches like that and Tom made his intentions clear. He didn’t just want to fuck her, he wanted to God-damn date her. Maybe it was his way of saying he was frustrated with everyone thinking he was no good.
Chris just wanted to enjoy the ride, so to speak. At least for now there was no worry to spare over an ornery lover.
“I want it crinkly,” Marianne announced as Chris folded ropes of the little girl’s hair into braids. “Like my Barbie.”
“Tomorrow morning we’ll wet it and do it again so it’ll be crinkly for you all next week.” Chris shooed her daughter from in front of the vanity and went to work at turning the stuffed folding-sofa into a bed. She was finding it harder and harder to concentrate as the smiley-faced clock on the dresser ticked on. Ever since that final phone call as she was packing up her desk, telling her that the door would be open, her thoughts had been displaced. Twice Marianne had been forced to poke her mother to get her attention as they sat at the kitchen table with a colouring book and Chris hadn’t heard a word her father had said to her over dinner.
She also simmered. As soon as she walked in the door her mother had walked out. “I’m going into town for bingo so you’ll have to put supper on the table for your father.” The assumption that Chris had nothing better to do irked her and when she bit down on her tongue she was reminded of the strife that had put her there and set her wondering what the consequences would be if she just said “Fuck it” and went with her gut.
By the time she set aside the story book that was Marianne’s current favourite, her mind was made up. She made a quick job of showering and then hopped down the stairs to where her father was watching the hockey game.
“I’m going for a drive. If she wakes up can you take care of her?”
“At this hour? What for?”
“Just to get out. I need to clear my head.” She leaned against the wall and waited for an answer. “Dad?”
“Yeah. Don’t forget your key.”
She was relieved that it was only her father in the house that night. He was no more tolerant than her mother but he was certainly the lesser of the two evils. No long, drawn-out explanations needed, especially at the end of the day when all he wanted was quiet and Sidney Crosby on the TV.
As she headed further away from town towards Crown Point where Tom lived she nodded to the other drivers she knew. She no longer cared who knew she was heading out that way. She anticipated a nasty call from Keith and a complete freeze from her mother and father, but she’d take being ostracized over spending another evening playing solitaire over tea at her mother’s kitchen table.
Tom’s house was uncharacteristically quaint given its ownership. It had belonged to a small, friendly woman who had raised thirteen children in the miniature abode before moving into the retirement home in the heart of town. Lattice threaded with ivy covered one whole side of the house and the remnants of the woman’s garden still poked through the trimmed lawn. When Chris pulled up to the house Tom’s broad shape appeared behind the storm door with a smile.
“I honestly never thought I’d see the day,” he chuckled, holding the door open with his boot.
“That makes two of us.” She hesitated beyond the threshold. The house still had the aroma of sweets that made your mouth water, as if the smell was baked into the walls. The polished floorboards creaked under Tom’s bare feet as he padded into the living room to turn off the television.
“She sold you the furniture and all, eh?”
“You think I picked out this thing?” he gestured to the creamy sofa spattered with pink flowers. He hooked his fingers in the waistband of his denims and cocked his head at her. “What’s going on?”
“What can I say? I have an itch.” She stripped away her jacket and tossed it over the arm of the sofa. He made no move to put his arms around her when she grasped a handful of fabric and pulled the hem of his t-shirt up, revealing his rippled chest speckled with dark hair. “I figured it’s about time I let you show me what you’d do if you had me all night.”
“Looks to me like I’m about to find out what you’re going to do to me,” he joked as she worked his fly. He grasped her wrist when she made to reach inside. “Not here. Upstairs.”
She watched with amusement while he quickly went about extinguishing the lights. “You like to fuck in the dark, too?”
“Hell, no. I love seeing the look on your face when you come, especially the eyes.”
Chris’s amusement doubled when he led her into the bedroom with its powder blue walls, lace curtains and patchwork quilt. “It’s so pretty!”
“Don’t get too attached, darlin’, because it’s going to get really messy.” He spun her around and kissed her hard. It was as good as their first kiss, with his hands in her hair, his mouth hard and demanding, bullying her with his entire body and filling her with a moment’s dread before she let him have complete command.
“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you so dressed down,” he murmured while he flicked the buttons on her fly and gave her ass a squeeze before shoving her jeans over her hips. “Always with something serious and a pound of make-up on your face. I like this better.”
She flinched when he snapped the waistband of her bikinis. “You’ve never seen me undressed all the way, either.”
“Mmmm.”
Chris always felt so small when his beefy hands were on her. When they fucked in the car he eclipsed her, and now that they weren’t confined she found herself manoeuvred about by him: stripped down to nothing but her panties she was flat on her back, spread out with her feet tucked close to her ass while he crouched between her legs and ran his rough palms over her stomach and upward. His familiar joker’s grin twisted his wide mouth and his tongue stuck out at the corner. She had the sudden urge to run her hands through his hair and acted on it. Tom rolled his head like a shaggy dog and caught her fingers in his mouth.
“Oh, I like that,” she said softly, and arched when he brusquely rolled her nipples between his thumb and forefinger.
“Is that so?” He hunched down and traced his tongue around the hard peak, then bit down slightly.
The entire bed shook when he did the same to the other, this time a little harder, scraping and pulling with his teeth. She jerked, grasping first at him and then the bedding beneath her. Tom braced his broad forearm across her chest, pinning her, and wormed his hand between their bodies. As brusquely as ever he plucked aside the band of lace, thrust two fingers inside and curled his fingers against the throbbing inner wall.
With a surprised gasp Chris pushed upwards to meet his steady thrusts. His calloused fingers against her g-spot were heaven. He withdrew and slid his fingers along her wet crack and then circled her clitoris, rubbing the tender flesh until the bud grew enough to strain from the hood.
Tom leaned down and nibbled her bottom lip. “When was the last time you sucked my dick?”
“Mhmmm … there was still snow on the ground.”
The rumble of his deep laughter went through her. “Oh yeah, I remember. That soft mouth melted the ice about ten feet around me. Baby, I don’t even know what you taste like.”
She lifted her bottom when he peeled her panties away and couldn’t keep herself from giggling. “I don’t know why but I though you’d be one of those fellows who wouldn’t lower himself to eat pussy.”
“If I wasn’t so fucking horny I could do it all night.” He wriggled out of jeans that had become too constricting. His cock was hard and thick and she reached for him when he settled down alongside her, slicking her hand on the bead of creamy moisture at the top and smearing it down the length of his shaft.
“Now honey, I want to play with you a little.” Nudging and prodding until one of her legs draped over his shoulder, he bent her knees. He made a small sound of assent when she pulled herself up, propping on one elbow between his spread legs and rubbing his heavy balls.
“This is much better than the car,” she murmured as she lowered her head to lick the tip and then she moaned when he slid his tongue along the full length of her cunt, curling around her clit and applying the slightest of pressure. Such a delicate touch made her feel hot all over and she closed her mouth around him.
He was silent while he tongued her and Chris followed suit, letting the greedy sucking sounds of his mouth on her cunt fill the room. His fingers returned to her wet hole, teasing her without penetrating her by circling the oily opening. The motions of his tongue lacked routine, licking her fast and then slow, left to right, up and down, around and around. He had her hotter than she’d been in weeks. He wound her up and let her come down, bringing her close to orgasm and then taking it away. All the while, Chris tested her own limitations, taking more and more into her mouth, amazed by the length that slid over her tongue. She had never been one who really enjoyed giving head. Even when he’d made the request when they’d first started meeting she had been reluctant, but she found she had come to enjoy the taste and texture of his dick, enjoyed the insistent movement of his hips as she ran her tongue along the length. Nor had she enjoyed having her lover come in her mouth. She had only ever carried it so far once with Keith and had loathed it, but now she found herself ravenously working Tom’s cock even at the expense of having to wait for him to get hard again when it was done. He was having none of it, though. Realizing what she was up to he shifted away from her and sat up.
“Pussy,” she taunted him and slipped her hand between her legs while he rummaged through the bedside table and then snapped a condom on his dick.
“How do you want it?” he growled, his sarcastic nature buried beneath a primal shell that had formed over his skin. “I just want to ride you hard. I don’t care how I do it.”
Chris rolled onto her knees, gripped the rungs of the garish brass headboard and lifted her ass, begging for his entry. His large hand splayed at the small of her back and pressed down slightly until her spine curved and she was more exposed than before. One hand reached past her belly and tickled her pussy while the other guided his cock until the head corked her. The slap he delivered to her ass surprised her, but had its desired effect. She clenched, giving him a tight fit as he slid all the way inside.
“Hang on, Chrissy.” He began to work his hips steadily, matching every thrust with the twitch of his middle finger on her clitoris. “I’m gonna make you come twice—once before me, once with me, and then I’m going to do it all over again.”
“Oh fuck, Tom, you’re killing me!”
A devilish laugh rumbled all around her and he sheathed himself to the hilt, going still and letting her feel every veined inch while he fingered her. She gripped the headboard until her fingers went numb and her head floated while he worked the sensitive underside of her clit. Her cunt spasmed violently around him, squeezing down so snug that as her orgasm rolled over her again and again he felt enormous inside of her.
“Just a little more,” he murmured, prolonging her pleasure by circling her nub until she was painfully sensitive and couldn’t take any more. She gasped and reached between her legs and grasped his wrist to stop the torture. When she started to sag down against the bed he ran his hands along her rib cage and cupped her breasts. As weak as she was she leaned back against him and rested her head against his shoulder.
“Don’t get too cosy, baby. This is just a time-out. I’m ready to bust with you milking me like this.”
Chris tilted her head to face him and opened her mouth to the tongue that slid over her bottom lip. “God, are you always this good or have I just been waiting too long for this?”
“I told you it would be good when I got you in bed. It could be like this all the time.”
“It’s not fair beating me while I’m down like this.” She placed her hands over his and looked down her body to where their bodies met. “You ready for round two?”
“How you want it?”
She gurgled on her laugh. “Jesus, Tom, just fuck me. I don’t care how.”
She couldn’t help the small sound of disappointment when he withdrew. Suddenly she felt so incomplete. She reached for him and he scooted from her gaze, flopping back on the bed next to her.
“Hop on. Let’s make some noise.”
He cupped her ass, squeezing the plump halves as she settled on his lap and grasped his dick at the root. His lids drooped as he watched her tease him by first rubbing the head over the slick lips.
“Assume the position, bad boy.” She tittered, grasping his shaft and giving him a firm squeeze. “Hands over your head.”
His grin returned. “I always knew you were a bitch deep down inside.”
She said nothing, waiting until his tattooed arms were stretched out above him and his scarred fists closed around the rungs. She leaned forward, licked the moisture that beaded along his breastbone and squirmed until his cock was snugly inside.
“How do you want it?” she taunted and raked her nails down his broad chest. “Naughty or nice?”
“Always naughty, Chrissy,” He bent his legs behind her and used his feet to lift her. “You got me as wet as you are. Do that again, a little harder this time.”
She trailed her fingers slowly along his torso, up over his chin, plucking his bottom lip until his tongue peeked out and slid over her fingertips. Impatiently he lifted his hips again and she dug in, leaving red tracks all the way down his upper body.
She began to work her body over his, rising as high as she could and then easing back down until he was buried, building the pace until she was bobbing with a steady, rapid rhythm. Low purring sounds rose up and spurred her on and when he slipped his hand between her legs she leaned forward and was immediately rocked by the dual pressure on her clit while she slid up and down his dick.
“Fuck yes … fuck …” Tom clenched his teeth, fighting to withhold his release in spite of Chris’s increasingly frantic gyrations. “Damn it, come for me, babe.”
“Just a bit more—uh!” She arced up over him, squeezing her eyes shut and grinding her teeth to steel herself against the violent spasms that rocketed up and outwards. She felt Tom’s teeth on her when he snapped up, nipping her breasts while he worked his hips beneath her. She was still high and panting when he surged upwards, bigger and harder than ever, and dug his fingertips into her hips while he pounded her.
His whole body seemed to deflate beneath her and with a curse he collapsed back. Chris buckled, sliding away from him to rest half on his hard body. Her limbs throbbed with the strain of such a hard ride and she buried her face between his bicep, then curled against him when he rolled and draped his arm over her shoulders.
Dawn at Crown Point was much different than elsewhere in town. Whether it was the ecstatic heaviness of her whole body or if the view was just that much more breathtaking on the other side of the tracks she didn’t know, but when Tom held a cup of coffee under her nose, she sighed deeply and traced the outline of the trees against the violet sky with sleepy eyes.
“This isn’t so bad,” she commented, then shrugged. “If you ignore the rusty school bus your neighbour has on his lawn, that is. He drive that thing?”
“Keeps his hunting dogs in it.”
She shook her head. “Well, you can always build a fence.”
“Look at you, already making plans like it’s yours,” He slipped his hand around her, under her t-shirt, and splayed his fingers over her stomach. “If it’d get you back out here I’d build a fucking moat.”
“Oh, I’m coming back. I’ve been given more than enough incentive.” She turned and took from him a hungry, coffee-flavoured kiss. Then she hung her head back and moaned. “Oh God, I’m going to get shit when I get home. I just up and left last night.”
Tom scraped his stubbly skin along the slope of her neck. “You’re a big girl. You can just up and leave again.”
“Mmmm, pack all my shit and just go.”
He took the mug from her and placed it on the ledge of the veranda. “Why the fuck did you get dressed, anyway?”
“I’m leaving,” she mumbled even as he worked her fly. “I mean it.”
“No you don’t.” He pulled her jeans off completely and lifted her to perch on the ledge, knocking the mug into the grass in the process. “Give it a half an hour, babe, then I’ll let you go.”
With his own jeans shoved down to his knees he stepped between her legs. When his fingers slipped inside her, finding her slick and ready, Chris wrapped her legs around him and braced his shoulders. “Nuh-uh, don’t start fucking around down there. All you get is half an hour.”
Her nails cut into the tanned skin on his neck when he drove deep. “Woman, you’ve got no idea what I can do in half an hour.”
Originally published January 2008: Expectant