Chapter Thirteen
“I’m looking for Orion Jackson.” They were the same words I’d spoken the first time.
Now, however, the effect was different. I’d seen him hunched over the bar as soon as I walked in but I’d said it anyway. He turned at the sound of my voice and a soft curse came out of his mouth.
I wasn’t strong. Especially not when compared to a tower of muscle who was six foot five if he was an inch. But I grabbed him and pulled him off the bar stool and brought him with me to the place where we’d had our first conversation in ten years. The same place where he’d made me irrevocably his.
I slammed the door to the bedroom and crossed my arms. “No.”
Orion looked at me as if I were a wild animal. He didn’t say anything so I started talking.
“No, I am not going to sit in a pretty classroom and listen to some jackass drone on about Hemingway. No, I’m not going to turn into my goddamn mother and snivel about all the shit parts of life. And no I am not. F*cking. Leaving!” With the last word I ripped my shirt over my head, daring him to deny me.
He didn’t move. Those impossible blue eyes stayed trained on my face. “What if I don’t want you here, Kira?” he asked in an icy voice.
“Then I’ll call you a f*cking liar and I’ll kneel down and suck your dick until you agree otherwise.”
Orion glared at me and then leaned over, violently tearing the shade from the window. He dragged me over to the window and pointed sharply at the barrenness outside. “Look at that. It’s all there f*cking is. It’s all there’s ever gonna be. There’s no suburban box in our future with a pretty lawn I crawl out of bed to mow early on Saturday morning.”
I scoffed. “What the hell are you talking about? I never had that. I don’t even know what the f*ck it looks like.”
He crossed his arms and gave me a grim smile. “You know, a lady shouldn’t talk like that.”
“F*ck you.”
“Yeah,” he nodded. “You said the same thing to me the night you got here.”
“And you did.”
“And I did.”
Slowly I pulled my shorts down and Orion couldn’t stop his eyes from slowly burning over my body.
I changed the tone of my voice. “Crest Tolleson told me a story once,” I began. And I repeated it exactly as I’d heard it. When I got to the end I covered the distance between us. When I unzipped his pants he didn’t stop me.
“So you see,” I told him softly, beginning to stroke him, “we are exactly where we are supposed to be. Everything that’s happened has led us here.” I stood up on tiptoe and wrapped my arms around his wide shoulders, purposely moving his hard dick against the moist cleft between my legs.
“Well then,” he said, pushing a finger abruptly inside of me. “I guess that’s that.”
“Almost,” I whispered. “Get on the floor.”
He pulled me down on top of him and I guided his rock hard shaft into me. His mouth went to my breasts and I began to move rhythmically, cradling his head against me.
“This time,” I said softly as I moved, “we’re going to finish like this. And Orion, I’m going to ride like hell.”
“You’d better,” he answered.
***
Note from the author:
This novella was hammered out in a fiery handful of days as I took a break between my first novel and the pending sequel. It’s a little grittier than what I usually write and I was pleased to find excuses to mention some of my favorite things in my home state. The nudist bookseller in Quartzsite is real and his secondhand bookstore is an outstanding pause for any passing book lover. Dick Wick Hall was once real and Salome “Where she danced”, the town he helped found, still remains.
I always love to hear from readers so drop me a line if you’ve a mind to.
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