The thought of no one being inside her for so long has me consumed with a feral need so intense that I almost tell her that she is mine. It makes me fucking crazy and desperate to take her. I circle my tongue around her clit, giving her the pressure she needs to release. She screams and I feel her tighten. I push deeper into her, feeling her walls contract around my finger that is buried deep inside her. I continue to work her with my mouth and finger until she comes down from her orgasm. Then I remove my finger and replace it with my tongue, tasting her release, until she shivers from what I know now is the cold. I kiss my way back up her body, bringing the covers with me and pulling them over us before removing her bra completely. I want to feel her chest against mine, and I want her to be comfortable.
When I lay beside her, she turns in to me and I feel her arm snake around my waist. And I hold her. Like I’ve done it a million times. My head is swimming with thoughts of what just happened. The taste of her lingers in my mouth and on my chin. I’d just eaten the sweetest * of the sweetest girl that I didn’t even know. And the only thing I got in return was the remnants of her release. And it was more than enough.
“I like when you call me ‘baby,’” Saylor says while we lay next to each other, still trying to catch our breath. I could tell her I like it too, but I’ll show her instead. I’ll call her baby as much as this man of few words can. The silence stretches on until she interrupts it once again.
“It’s been a while.”
“I know,” I say in response, trying to smooth her hair out of my face. I give up because I would rather have my arms around her. It just feels good.
“I had my heart broken when I was a teenager. At sixteen, I thought I was in love. After that, I made a promise to my mother that I wouldn’t give myself to anyone else until I knew they were the right one for me. I always keep my promises.” I think about this a minute and I remember that the information Shady gave me said her mother was deceased. I feel my body tense as I become angry at the thought of her mother leaving her, and the son of a bitch that broke her heart.
“Now she’s gone. Cancer. She died during treatment.” Saylor’s voice is low and I feel her tears leak onto my chest. I hold her a little tighter, and I don’t know if it is my hold that opens the floodgates or the reminder of her mother, but she starts sobbing again. “Dirk,” she manages.
“Yeah?” I say through the twisting pain in my chest. It fucking hurts.
“Will you hold me and tell me everything will be okay?” At her words, I move our bodies so that I am completely entwined with her and my lips are at her ear.
“Everything will be okay. I’m here.” When I reassure her, she completely loses it, and it scares me. I wonder who will do this for her when I am gone. My body rocks her and the movement surprises me. I’m holding a woman who is crying in my arms and rocking her. I hold her and rock her for what could have been hours until her breathing returns to normal, and she is in a deep sleep, with her arms wrapped tightly around me. And it’s the best fucking feeling I’ve ever had.
3
SOMETHING IS TOUCHING me. I feel a hand stroking my two-day beard, a leg entwined with mine, and a soft, warm chest pressed up against my own. I open my eyes to find the light on and Saylor looking at me while her fingers stroke my face. She is more gorgeous in the morning than she is at night.
“I’ve been laying here waiting for you to open your eyes so I could stare at them.” Her voice is strong, like she has been up for hours, and I wonder how long she has been watching me. I don’t ask her, I just let her stroke my face, and try to ignore how good it feels to have her touching me.
“Your eyes are beautiful,” she whispers, and I make a point not to blink so I don’t fuck up her joy. “Hazel. It’s such a mysterious color. I think if I studied them long enough, I could find every color of the rainbow in them.” I doubted what she said, but if she thought she could, then I would let her test her theory all day.
“Are you leaving soon?” Her question reminds me of what I was dreading before I finally fell asleep last night. I know I have to leave and part of me can’t fucking wait to get on my bike so I can process all this shit, but the other part wants to stay right here forever.
“Yes.” I watch the sadness form in her eyes and that ache in my chest is back, and I have the feeling that it has nothing to do with heartburn.
“Where are you going?” I couldn’t answer that. I should tell her it’s none of her business, but I won’t.
“West.” My short answer appeases her and she doesn’t push further. I’m glad she doesn’t ask, but I wonder if her lack of interest is because she doesn’t care to know or if she is scared to push me.
“I don’t want you to leave.” I don’t want to leave. I want to stay here. With her. But I can’t. This is my life as a Nomad and as much as I like her, I could never mentally handle being in one place for too long. Riding is my therapy and without it I would go to the deepest, darkest depths of hell where everyone is my enemy and life has no meaning.
I can’t lay here with her any longer. I have to leave. I have to ride. I can’t get soft. Nobody can do my job and have these feelings. I don’t want to think of her when I do the shit I do. She is too precious to be surrounded with the violence and world of shit I face every day.