Charged (16 page)

But maybe he doesn’t. If not, maybe it’s time to kick up the flirt and use my womanly wiles to skirt this really awkward moment and escape. Ryker seems to react to sex, and after the day he had with Kendra, maybe he’s frustrated. I’d interrupted him the other day. Maybe he has a bad case of the blue balls. If I really want out of this, I’m gonna have to pull out the flirty, sex kitten card with a side of street walker. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about?” I try coy, and stupid. Maybe it will work. 

“Kate, I’m not an idiot. I can see your reaction. You’re scared. He’s who you’re running from, isn’t he?”

Time to pull out all the stops. Maybe if I evade his question and distract him with sex, I might have a way out of this. 

I
need
to get out of this. I need to run. 

Pushing the conversation elsewhere, I place my hand across his upper leg, stroking the inside of his thigh. I revel in the tight, muscular definition. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about, but I appreciate what you did today, I really do. I mean you stepped in, just when Clit was getting extra creepy.” 

Flexing, and massaging his leg causes Ryker’s breath to hitch. It’s not the first time I’ve been in a bind, and I’m sure not the last, but, I have to say, this is the one that will play on rerun. As I try to loosen the mood, he leans in close, breathing right by my ear, stroking his tongue along my lobe making me shiver. 

“It won’t work, spark plug. I won’t stop you from what you’re doing, but it won’t work.” 

Who’s playing who here? 

Pulling on my chair, and moving me closer, the only thing that can be heard is the scraping of the chair across the pavement. No one pays us any attention, which I find odd. 

“Is this normal activity for the Brew?” I ask while drawing my hand even closer to his semi hard cock. I can feel how the pants tighten, and I’m pretty sure he’s packing a hammer. I doubt he had time to stuff the pockets with socks, so I’m slightly stunned by the girth, and length.  

“No, but this is a regular hangout of mine, and they won’t say shit to save you, spark plug. And this could be a long night. I can do this for hours.” 

Pardon? 

The thoughts scramble in my mind as I pause for a second. I slide my hand even higher, my palm caressing the side of his now hard cock. It twitches. 

“Now Ryker, it’s not all about sustainability. Talent is involved.” Rubbing against his jeans where the imprisoned cock sits, I can feel it straining against the material. I’ve never had sex that lasted more than a few hard grunts and a moan. I’ve been working out my own orgasms afterward in the shower for years. No one, and I mean no one, has been good enough to make me go for gold with them. I’m always left to go it alone, finding my release in toys.  

Playing along with my small talk, Ryker pipes up. “How was your day, honey?” Palming the soft inner skin of my thigh, Ryker’s touch is heating me up through my jeans. Feather light and sensual petting makes my breath hitch. 

Wow, playing with fire? Nope, not me. I’m way past that. I’m lighting a five alarm inferno at a warehouse.

Clearing the fog in my brain, I try to turn the tables back. If I want him to have to vacate, so I can run without being seen, I need to make him needy and uncomfortable in his pants.
Spice it up a notch, Kate.

“Did you have a rough day after I pulled the slut off you?” I say in a dreamy, ice-cream drippingly sweet voice.

“I’ve had better days,” he says. “See, this little firecracker hopped out of our tow truck with Trav’, an’ she made my cock hard instantly. Kendra was there to clear my head of her. That’s it. How about you?”

Slightly breathless, I make an attempt to turn the tables back in my favor. “You’re telling me that some firecracker hopped out of a tow truck, and she threw you into a tizzy? I’m sure you get lots of girls wanting your attention. You don’t look like a guy who misses many opportunities.” Ryker’s hand is almost to the apex of my legs and I’m not so sure anymore that I can hold my own in this ‘thumb war’.

“I don’t have any issues finding anyone willing to quench my thirst, but they don’t light me up. I never end up satisfied.” Ryker flicks a finger against my jeans, right where my pussy presses tightly against my very damp lace panties. “None of them are fiery. Women who are wild and difficult can go toe to toe with me without backing down make my cock hard as fuck for hours.” 

I’m sure he feels just how much he’s affecting me, and here I was moronically thinking I could trip him up with a little rub to
his
jeans. “I want to sink so deep inside you, and pump my dick in and out of you so fucking hard. I want to hear you scream and cry. I want to lick and suck and fuck you for hours on end, and push you to the fucking brink. Can you imagine that, spark plug?” He whispers the last question as I sit there speechless. 

Fuck yes. I do want that so fucking bad. I don’t think anyone has ever made me feel more like a wanton whore just from rubbing their hand up against my fully covered girly bits; Ryker is a pro. This man should go into business teaching others. With his growled dirty words and well placed hand I can hear myself; I’m panting, sucking in breaths tightly. I’m rigid and erect in my seat, leaning across the table to get even closer, and he’s grinning at me like fucking Heath Ledger as the Joker. He knows he has me. He knows he’s cornered me into a moment of thinking I had the power and now he’s gonna make me cum right here in a goddamn coffee shop.

“How you feeling, spark plug? You ok? You seem flushed. Your skin is warm looking. Should I take you home so you can get to bed?” Damn smirking fucking asshole. He says this as he still strokes my jean-clad clit, bringing me closer to the edge than anyone ever has. I suddenly feel like an idiot on display. 

That’s it. I pull my hand off his cock, yank his hand away from my heated jeans, scoot my chair back and sit tightly against the chair. “Asshole,” I chirp, picking up my drink. 

No one seems to be wiser to our moment in the spotlight, and he himself seems almost smug with the power he had over me in such a short moment of time. Ryker stands, clearing his throat before pushing his chair back. He stands there looming like a cloud in a blue sky above me, that narrow hard look back in his eyes. I don’t miss the way his cock is straining desperately against his jeans, the material so tight it almost looks painful.

“I’ll be right back.” He bends down and speaks softly in my ear. “Don’t go anywhere.”

Point for Kate? Not so much. I feel just as worked up and frustrated. I guess we’re even. 

I watch him saunter off with a funny walk, heading towards the washrooms as I sit there pondering what had just happened. Does he do this often? This is the second time I’ve seen him do something so sexual in public. Something that should be intimate and behind closed doors. And I participated! Hell, I instigated it this time. 

Remembering our conversation back before we decided to get each other off in a coffee shop, I wonder, does he know who I am? Has he gone off to call someone? What if he calls GF? Oh, this shit could be bad. Instead of going back to the shop to run, I could be forced straight into a trap. 

As Ryker disappears into the back, I grab my sweater and head for the street. In this area of town, I wonder if I can grab a bus or a taxi without being seen. Maybe I can hitch a ride with a college kid to the shop before Ryker comes out. I know my chances are slim, but it’s probably safer for me to make a run for it now. 

Stealthily hoping nobody will notice me, I hit the sidewalk heading towards the Starbucks we’d passed earlier. I’m not much of a runner, but I can pull off a mean jog in heels if needed. I’ve done it a few times and it wasn’t pretty, but when necessity meets requirement I’ll do anything. 

The streets are busy. I try to blend into the milling crowds of students, attaching myself to a group of girls heading the same way. Blending in, I that if he sees these drunk girls, he’ll drive right on by.

“Hey, what’s yer name?” the girl closest to me slurs, stepping loosely like she’s built of rubber. 

“Cloe. Don’t you remember me from Physc101?” I lie through my teeth, hoping this girl took psychology, and if not, that she is too drunk to remember.  

“Surrrrre,” she says almost knocking me into the bricks. “You dated the TA.” Wow, lucky guess. Maybe I could have blended into the college scene unnoticed.

“Are you going to Phi Beta’s party? It’s gonna be awe-some!” the blonde beside her trills, as we’re now just feet from Starbucks. 

“Nope. Just out to study with a group at the ‘bucks. Maybe later,” I say, ducking into the store as they wave, and pass along, totally oblivious that they even saw me, or that I didn’t belong to their soiree. 

I enter to find it’s totally packed to the gills with kids. They take up every wall, bench, couch and fireplace with their bags, books, empty cups and loud conversation. I’m sure that Ryker has realized I’m gone by now, and is wondering where I took off to. I bet he’s hopped on that bike, and torn off down the street looking for me. I doubt he’ll expect to find me here. 

Hopefully I can hide for a few hours, sucking back liquid insanity, hop into a cab, zoom back to Hazel’s to clear house fast, and get the hell out of Mississippi before GF appears.

Ryker

M
other of all things difficult!

I had to step away before I stripped her bare. As she sat there rubbing my cock, all I wanted to do was lay her across the seat of my Duc'. I wanted to fuck her hard. I don’t care if the whole damn street pops out to see. 

It was hard enough sitting there looking at the soft flesh of her chest under that flimsy fabric, her dime size nipples protruding through the lace of her bra and the threadbare material she calls a shirt.  Then she goes an’ strokes my cock. After what she saw first-hand this afternoon, you’d think Kate was smart enough to know that if you tempt the dragon, sometimes you get burnt.  

The worst part of it all is that I couldn’t hold out. I had to touch her. I wanted to tease her like she was teasing me, and I almost had her. She almost came apart in my hands. Fuck me, that was hot.  

I splash some water on my face, looking at the disaster I’ve made of myself in the mirror, and mentally give myself a pep talk.
You will not strip her naked here in the fucking coffee shop, asshole
. I take another second to adjust my cock and prepare myself to walk back out there. I don’t have any issues with public displays, or with getting my fucking dick sucked, but not in the middle of the best goddamn coffee shop in this godforsaken town. Where would I get my coffee? I’d be fucking blackballed and there’s not a thing I could do about it. I’d have to go to a chain store, and their shit just ain’t the same.

It hadn’t escaped my notice how she’d reacted when I’d mentioned Gianfranco and Marco; her facial expressions had been of pure terror. Everyone knows who they are because of the charges of course, but she was more afraid than seemed normal. I wonder how much they have to do with her running? 

“Come on buddy, there’s only one shitter. Finish up at home, huh.” A very typical local response from a typical guy. 

“Yeah, hold on.” I unlock the door and step out. The weasley, hawk nosed, pock-faced gaze of a teenager stares up at me from the hallway, straining to look me in the eye. 

“Sorry, man.”

“It’s cool, kid. No worries,” I say as I make my way back out to the front. I pause, finding empty chairs where Kate had sat, the space still being taken up by a pair of helmets and two drained cups. 

She’s gone. Goddammit woman, now where the fuck did you go? 

“Val, did you see where my friend went?” 

“Sorry Ryk, I was busy and didn’t even see her leave. I’m sure she didn’t go far. I mean who would leave
you
in the middle of a date?” 

It’s not a date, but — exactly. Who? I gather the helmets and head back out to the bike, looking around for a trace of Kate. Not seeing anything, I put on my helmet and strap the spare to the bike.

I’m sure Val’s right; Kate wouldn’t get far. Hell, I wasn’t gone
that
long. She wouldn’t have had time to find a ride…would she? Shit — I’ve done it drunk on more than one occasion, and taxi’s don’t come down here enough at this hour. The cabbies wait for the drunk walk-of-shame hours — twelve to four am. Kate would be on foot.