Crossroads

By Katrina Liss

Copyright 2015
K.M.Liss

Smashwords Edition
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Disclaimer: This novel is a work of
fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it, while
at times based on real figures, are purely the work of the author’s
imagination.

Thanks &
Acknowledgements

Love and thanks to my family and
friends, for believing in me and encouraging me to write my little
heart out.

I tried to keep my mind focused on the gray
strip of road ahead of me, as I sped home, way too fast.

“
Shit! Shit! SHIT!”

I couldn't believe what I'd just done.

Going bare with a girl I hardly knew,
fucking her like an animal over a table in her Mom's back yard?

Jesus! What kind of guy am I?

I didn't want to answer that question. I
didn't like what that made me. A few choice words sprang to
mind.

I tried to cut myself some slack...

I don't know what the hell came over me.

But that was a lie. I did know.

She'd made me take leave of my sanity. I'd
never been so out of my head in lust with anyone in my life as I
was with her. I couldn't stop touching, and once I had her close, I
wanted to touch everything in the most intimate way possible.
Nothing mattered but getting my dick inside her, as fast as
possible. I didn't stop to think, how, where, why or
what the
fuck
... should I even do this? What had happened had been the
culmination of the heavy sexual tension building throughout the
evening and the inexplicable hold she had over me.

It may be a cliché, but I'd never met anyone
like her before. It wasn't just the looks. It was the whole Tiffany
thing she had going on.
Christ
, she was an irresistible
package.

From the minute she opened her smart mouth
and the put downs and frosty looks started to emerge, I was
hooked.

I'd found out a little about her from
Cherry. She was a law student at UC Kansas; aged twenty and a
'nice' girl.

I wanted a little piece of her style of
nice.

I'd had far too much at the other end of the
spectrum.

She painted a perfect, beautiful, picture in
my head - long blonde curls, large and expressive gray eyes, the
lips of my dreams, and the most gorgeous face and body I'd ever
seen. Not to mention the hottest ass, which she could move like
nothing on this earth. I'd been dying for her to move it on me.

I wanted her. In a really bad way.

I drew up to a junction and broke hard,
coming to a stop.

I thumped the handlebars on my bike in
frustration.

“
Fuck...what a screw up.
” My brain
was in turmoil, struggling with a mixture of post coital
exhilaration, and a heavy dose of guilt on top.

I didn't know whether to punch the air or my
head.

I was taking all the blame for that fuck up.
It
was
my fault. I'd pushed it. I'd lost control, and I'd
led the way - all the way. I should have been more in control of
myself. I was a responsible guy, normally.

I hadn't intended to go that far tonight.
I'd wanted to kiss her; that was all; to leave her with a good
impression of me. In hindsight, what happened in the alley behind
the bar, should have been a warning to keep away... but once I'd
burnt my fingers, I wanted some more of that burn.

I kinda lost my mind. I'm pretty sure we
both did.

I wish I didn't keep remembering that
horrified expression on her face, when she told me to go... and the
flood of tears.

I'd upset her so bad, and that hurt.

I tried to sound cool about it, to make her
feel better, but it hadn't helped much. I wasn't used to dealing
with distressed girls. I wasn't quite sure what to say or do, given
the circumstances. I'd tried to hug her, but she wasn't having any
of that.

She had every right to push me away and to
tell me to fuck off.

Initially, my instincts told me to turn tail
and fly. But the better side of me hadn't wanted to leave her like
that, sobbing her little heart out, like we'd committed the worst
sin in the world. I needed to know she was okay and didn't think I
was a complete and utter bastard. I'd tried my best. All I could
think to do was to assure her that I wanted to see her again, that
she wasn't a two minute fuck and dump. But I couldn't do or say the
right thing. Seeing her standing there, as I left, had stabbed me
in the gut. I wanted nothing more than to take her with me and to
make things right somehow.
Goddamn fucking anyhow.
But I
knew she wanted me gone. Everything about her... her body language,
the look on her face... it all said
fuck the hell off, you
asshole
. Not having much choice, that's what I did. Probably
could have handled it a whole lot better though.

I could have said sorry.
Why the hell
hadn't I said sorry?
I was such a dumb-ass jerk.

I set off at a slower pace trying to calm
down, thinking about something else... anything else, but her. I
couldn't calm down while I was thinking about her, in any
sense.

My mind wandered to work, as it always did.
Work was safe and a place I felt good. We were in the process of
moving the livestock to new pasture. Safer pasture, less accessible
to thieves. We had a fair bit of trouble with missing cattle.
Rustling was still very much alive, even in the twenty first
century. We'd lost fifteen Gelbvieh half breeds over the past year.
They were prime beef stock and worth a fair deal of cash. But the
strangest thing was the shootings. Two weeks ago, someone had shot
two of our Angus and left them to rot.
A prankster? A crazy? A
grudge?
We didn't know. Hopefully that was the last we'd see of
it.

It took a few days to move the herd. I
enjoyed the roundup and transporting the cattle. It would mean a
night sleeping out, under the stars, to make sure they settled in
right. Being at one with nature appealed to me. As I gazed up at
the heavens, my eyes connecting the millions of tiny dots of light
in the darkness above me, I always felt an inner peace. Nowhere
else, did I feel this way - like I was being watched over by
something out there. I wasn't a believer in God, that was a plain
fact, but I felt right, and in good hands, close to my mom when I
was out there. She'd been very active on the ranch, being a
veterinary nurse, she helped out with the cattle and horses,
tending to any little ailments they had. Until she got sick. I
pushed those thoughts away
―t
he memory of
her painfully thin face and scared eyes. It still upset me so bad.
Enough to bring tears forth. No woman as wonderful as my mom should
get sick and die at forty nine. There was something seriously wrong
with God letting it happen.

I slipped along the silent, empty country
roads, my bike disturbing the peace of the night. A few rabbit and
deer shot across the road, stopping in my path, their bright eyes
shocked and terrified at my rapid approach. I smiled to myself.
Goddamn stupid fucking animals
. As usual, I did my best
not
to run them down, although it was tempting.

It was a short journey, just ten minutes at
my usual kick-ass speed, before I was turning left at the open iron
gate, rising up the long and winding, tree-lined approach road, to
the center of Mill Creek Ranch. As I came into the stable yard, the
security light flicked on, glaringly bright as I passed through the
open hay-barn door, where we kept our bikes. The soft fragrance of
hay assailed my senses. I loved the smell of it. Hell, I loved the
taste of it. I was always chewing on the damn stuff out on the
ranch.

A quick stock-take, of bikes present, told
me Kicker wasn't back yet. I didn't expect him to be. He was
getting involved with his girl. He regularly stayed at her place,
in town. I wouldn't see him till we started work tomorrow, I
guessed.

Cherry was okay, and I suppose everyone
deserved a second chance. I didn't know her story and I wasn't
judgmental as a rule. Kicker seemed to see something in her, apart
from the whore label, and I'd go along with that, for his sake.

I parked up at the end of the row, next to
Pete's red Honda, switched off the bike engine and pocketed the
key. I heard a rustle in the hay stacked up to my side... then
another. The whole place seemed to be rustling. Mice. The place was
fucking well swarming with them since the cat died. We needed
another cat. Maybe a few very hungry cats based on the amount of
rustling I could hear.

I ran my hands over the smooth chrome curve
of the handlebars and sat there for a moment, not wanting to leave
the comfort zone of my much loved bike. I stared blindly at the
dirty wall in the semi darkness. A few seconds later, the light
from the outside motion sensor switched off and plunged the barn
into an inky pitch black.

I knew I wasn't supposed to smoke in the
barn, for obvious reasons, but I wanted to sit a while longer, to
come down from my sex rush which was still running through me like
a raging river. I needed the calming effect that a smoke provided.
I fished around in my jacket pockets and plucked out my almost
empty pack of Camels, along with my battered silver Zippo. I put a
cigarette in my mouth and lit up, inhaling deeply.

I cursed the day I got hooked on the goddamn
things.

I referred to it as my California habit.

I'd started out a clean living twenty one,
but hanging with California gang, MCC Iron Beaters, for eighteen
months, had got me into a lot of stuff I shouldn't have. Smoking
cigarettes, dope, heavy drinking, doing drugs, real dirty girls...
there weren't any sins and substances I hadn't tried. The hard
stuff I had no interest in pursuing. I'd got past my curiosity
fast. Once was enough. I'd seen the spaced out look of hopeless
addiction on the older guys faces as they shot up with H – guys
who'd been doing it a while – and needed more and more to get a
high – I didn't wanna join their number. But unfortunately,
nicotine had become ingrained in my brain. I was constantly trying
to give the wretched white sticks up. Me and Kicker both. Not so
easy. Fucking impossible in fact. We both agreed on that. It was
shit awful habit to break. But I kept on trying. God knows why.

I let out a long stream of smoke, and my
head buzzed pleasantly, a soothing raft of nicotine flooding my
veins.

I wondered what she was doing now.

Asleep?
I guessed not.

More likely lying awake in the dark thinking
about me and what we'd done together. I hoped some positives
crossed her mind, along with the overriding negative that had my
name on it.

I remembered her positive point very
clearly. The look on her face when she came. I wanted to see that
look again - a whole damn lot of
agains -
to watch the way
her eyes rolled and her mouth opened with a throaty little gasp -
the deep muscular spasms which followed which sent me sailing off
into mind-blown-man land.