Sunrise Fires (9 page)

“I see that.” He slid my panties aside and teased my slit, coating his finger without pushing it inside me. I pulled his shirt over his head and stroked his chest. Hopping off the counter, I kissed and licked his nipples as I undid his pants. Sliding my thumbs into the sides of them, I pushed them down. I had barely gotten them below his ass when he pulled me back to standing and stepped into me, pinning me between him and the counter. His cock was a rod between us, pressing against my pelvis. He stripped my shirt off, yanked my skirt up to my waist, and hooked my panties with his thumb, sending them sliding down my legs. As he lifted me, I wrapped my legs around him, opening my pussy and adjusting our alignment. He eased into me so slowly. I twisted and tilted my hips, settling lower and lower onto his shaft. With me pinned against the counter, he drove into me, sucking my breasts as his ribbed cock scraped against my engorged clit.

One centimeter at a time, he pressed into me, and then, just as slowly, he withdrew. He was intentionally teasing me, moving too slowly. I wanted him to drive into me with more speed and force than he was giving. I tried to hasten him, grinding faster, but he moved his hips in opposition. I unlocked my legs from behind his and stood up, his cock sliding out of me.

“On the floor,” I rasped, tugging his arm as I knelt down. “Come here.” He got on his knees in front of me, kissing me, squeezing my breast with one hand and my ass with the other. I leaned toward him until he sat down. I pulled his legs out in front of him and straddled them. In the morning light, his muscular body was a racetrack of its own, and my mouth and hands wanted to experience every inch.

His cock was still wet and glistening from having been inside me; my mouth watered. In one swift movement, I took his cock all the way into my throat, and then slowly withdrew it, sucking all my juices from him before moving up his chest, kissing, licking, and crawling my way to his neck. I nuzzled him and brought my knees up alongside his ribs and settled my plump wet pussy onto his belly, feeling his cock against my lips. “Mmmmm…”

He grabbed my hips and held me still as he tilted his hips to push inside me. I raised just enough to align him and leaned forward to be sure he’d be able to stab into me with one movement. Together I seated myself, and he thrust, ramming into me. His hands moved to my sides, thumbs at my hips and fingers gripping my ass. I sat upright and bounced up and down on him, feeling his cock deep inside my body, faster and harder with each bounce as I came closer and closer to exploding. He moved a hand to my breast and his other to my clit. “Yes…oh…yes…” I loved fucking this man. My free breast was bouncing wildly while he pinched the nipple of the other. His thumb stroked my clit at a pace matching my rhythm, and each flick became its own mini orgasm. “Cum with me, baby. Cum inside my throbbing pussy. Fuckkk!”

I screamed. He held me up above him and continued to relentlessly thrust in and out of my convulsing pussy. Again and again, he slammed into me, slapping against my fiery hot clit. I squeezed and sucked his cock with each intense wave of my orgasm, and finally, he groaned and slammed into me as deeply as he could, and then slowing the pace as he filled me with his cum.

I collapsed onto his chest, knees sore, pussy still throbbing, as he began to go soft inside me. I drew my arms into my chest to capture some of our body heat and to feel safe again as I came back to reality. Lying there on his chest, gasping for air, I settled into him and rocked ever so slightly side to side, settling my hips onto his more fully. He dragged his hands softly up and down my back, too softly to feel my ribs, just the slightest touch of his fingertips delicately bringing me back. “Damn, babe. You needed that, eh?”

I pinched him near his armpit. “I’m not the only one. Tell me you didn’t want that as badly as I did.”

“You can need me that badly any time you’d like.”

I pushed up from his chest. “It’s a tad chilly in here.” My nipples hardened at the exposure.

“I see that, baby.” He reached up appreciatively and covered each breast with a meaty hand. “I love your breasts. You have the most amazing tits I’ve ever seen.”

I sat more fully upright on top of him, a hand fisted on each of my hips, pulling my shoulders back and filling my lungs with air. “How about now, huh? Work of art?! I should be a Greek statue, right? Maybe you should sculpt me.”

“I couldn’t keep my hands off you long enough to ever finish.”

I slid my thumbs between his hands and my breasts as if peeling away suction cups. “Well, my dear, they must come off me for the moment while I go find some warm clothes. I’m freezing, and these little mitts are only saving the tits.” Still holding his hands, I leaned forward and kissed him. Then using his hands for leverage, I pressed against them to get up. “If you wait there, I’ll get a warm washcloth for you and some fresh boxers.”

“Well, hurry up, then, because it’s really cold without my blanket of Jen to keep me warm.”

I walked to the bedroom, turning on the sink as I found each of us some clothes. I washed myself and threw on some panties and a robe before rinsing the washcloth and squeezing it out for him. As I came back to the kitchen, he had drawn his knees up and was lying on his back with his arms wrapped around his torso. “Awww, baby. I’m so sorry. I was as fast as I could be. Here…” I settled down beside him and opened my hands, revealing the steaming rag. Slowly and carefully, I washed him of our sex—his belly, his cock, even between his legs has all gotten coated with our juices. “Damn, where’d all this come from?”

“I know, I know. Now, gimme those boxers; it’s too damned cold.”

I held the boxers above my head. “What?
These
boxers?”

He scrambled to his knees, wrapped one arm around my waist, and grabbed the boxers with the other. “Yeppers. Precisely those ones.”

I stayed on the floor as he stood. When he was fully standing, and before he could pull on his boxers, I knelt and took his soft dick into my mouth one last time, squeezing it with my lips and using my tongue to press it into the roof of my mouth. Slowly, I pulled away and let it slide out into my hand. “Damn, I love your dick!” He laughed in an embarrassed way and pulled on his boxers as I stood up. “I mean that, hun. I’ll miss that when I’m gone.”

“Is that all? Just the dick? If I could package it up for you, would you take it with you?”

“Now, there’s a thought. I could keep it in a box on a shelf in my flat. I’d write on the side of it ‘open in case of emergency.’ Would it be bad if I had an emergency every day?”

“You do when you’re here, so why not in Germany, too?”

I smiled and thought about what he said. “We do have sex almost every day, don’t we? I don’t really keep track.”

“It’s one of the things I love about you, baby. You’re sexy in everything you do—the way you talk, the way you move, the way you cook. All of it is so sensual that you keep me hard for you. You think I don’t see the guys looking at you sometimes?”

“What guys?”

“When we ride. The guys I ride with. Mark especially. I know he’s jealous. I think he wants you so bad he can hardly stand it.”

I sucked the back of my teeth as my mouth opened, scoffing, “Oh, my God, hun. I think you’re wrong.” Nobody has ever done anything that would imply…they’re your friends, babe. They’ve never done or said anything inappropriate.”

“Hold your horses. I’m not accusing anybody of anything. Just commenting that I got the best woman out there, and they know it. I can see it in their faces.” He paused, looking at me appreciatively. “I love you, babe. And Germany won’t change that.

“Now, come on, let’s figure out what you’re making for the ride tomorrow.”

As we shopped that evening and cooked the next day, I took Ryan in. I watched him and took mental images to bring with me to Germany. We made macaroni and cheese and a bratwurst to take to the track. As we cooked, we laughed and joked and played with food, with each other. It was pure joy, and I wanted to capture it to carry with me on my trip. I wished I could videotape us in a way that included the feeling of his hands on me, his voice filling my ears, the smell of the food cooking, the taste of his mouth and body, the smell of our sex, the warmth of his embrace, the sound of his laugh, the smell as I opened the oven door and the heat that blasted me in the face while he aligned himself behind me, pretending there was no other way to get a look into the oven. These moments would be unavailable for a time, and it still petrified me to think of it.

Chapter Nine

I
wept watching him ride at the track that day. He was a sight to see. Even with a helmet on, I could feel his smile beaming through the visor. The sun was shining, but it was a relatively mild day for Vegas—barely 90 degrees. The bleachers were ablaze from the sun. Whoever thought aluminum was a good choice must never have spent a summer in Vegas. The bikes added to the desert heat and mystique, filling the air with fumes that made the scene look like a mirage, blurry and gassy. I wore sunglasses and sun block and came armed with a blanket to put on the bleacher bench; I felt like an old pro at this.

And today, Chris was next to me on the bleachers. It had been awhile since I’d seen him here, and even when I didn’t come, Ryan said his appearances had become rare. He was still using crutches even though it had been more than two months since he came home. His hair was longer and a little more unkempt, and he’d grown what little facial hair was possible. He slouched, his elbows on his knees, head resting on his fisted hands. I playfully punched his arm, “What’s up, tiger?”

He recoiled from my touch, cutting his eyes in my direction. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

My eyes narrowed. “Nothing, hun…” I moved to place my hand on his back, but he waved me away. “It’s just that I haven’t seen you in a while, and I was wondering how you’ve been.” My hand found its way back to my lap.

“You know, this,” he jerked his hand pointing at the bleachers and track, “isn’t the only place to find me. Strangely enough, guess where I can usually be found.” He paused as if I was actually supposed to answer. I eyed him, surprised at the apparent venom in my surrogate sibling’s attitude. When he didn’t continue, I shrugged. “Home! That’s where. Folks who can’t ride don’t generally hang out at a dirt bike track.”

I stared open-faced at the man who used to be my fun-loving, light-hearted friend. Was this some form of grief phase? Maybe he was upset about his recuperation, and he was taking it out on friends and loved ones. “Chris, honey, I don’t….”

“Save it. It’s fine. I don’t need excuses. I get enough of those from the guys.
‘Too busy, can’t make it. Maybe next week, catch ya later
.’” He mocked. “It’s all bullshit. If I didn’t come to the track, they’d never see me. You don’t owe me anything, but I get more attention and conversation from you than my riding bros.”

“What?! That’s not true, hun. Ryan loves hanging out with you. He talks about you all the—”

“You know the last time he saw me? The last time he saw me and we
weren’t
at the track? When he helped me move back to my parents’ house. How depressing is that? And he couldn’t even stick around afterwards for a beer.” And then he muttered, “I guess getting home to you was more important.”

I remembered the day well. Ryan had worked overtime for three days so that he could take the entire day off to help Chris move. It had only been little more than a week since he had helped Chris move out of his parents’ house, and now, he was heading back again. It was frustrating for me, though Ryan didn’t complain, and he didn’t question the sudden change of heart either. He dutifully went to help Chris despite the personal sacrifice it took. He’d come home exhausted and tense that night. Chris had insisted on trying to help despite the crutches making it nearly impossible. And more than once, Chris and his father had exchanged hushed terse words. Over the course of the day, each of the other guys from the riding group had come to help, though none of them could spare the entire day. By the time the last of the boxes and furniture was moved, Ryan told me that he nearly ran from the place to avoid the awkward tension.

“Chris,” I tried to remain calm and fight the urge to defend Ryan, “the guys love you like a brother, and Ryan probably more than the rest of them.”

“They pity me,” he said through gritted teeth.

“No, they don’t!”

“Yes, they do! The young one who barely got started riding and now gets to drool jealously from the sidelines.” He looked down at his hands. “I may never be able to ride again. Fuck, I might never walk again…not like a normal person.” He turned his head away from me and then said more softly, “If they cared, I wouldn’t have to beg them to spend time with me. It wouldn’t matter that I can’t ride.” He wrung his hands together, clenching and releasing his jaw. “Do you think I
like
sitting on the sidelines like this? An invalid?” His voice began to rise, and he turned back to me, eyes bloodshot and glassy. “You think I like drooling over what I
used to
do? Waiting in the wings to break bread with guys who otherwise don’t have time for me? I mean, I love these guys, but I kinda hate them, too. They are partly the reason I’m like this.”

“Wow. Hun… do you really believe that?” I looked at him intently.

“They fucking knew I couldn’t handle it.”

“And they tried to tell you—”

“Maybe they should’ve tried harder.”

“And maybe you should’ve listened harder.” The words came out as a reflex, and I knew they were the wrong ones as soon as they rang in my ears.

He fumbled with his crutches and got up. “I have no fucking clue what I’m even doing here,” his voice cracked; “groveling like some…” he bit his lip, though not before I saw it quiver.

I jumped off the bleachers and grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking him as I spoke, “Stop it, Chris. Jesus Christ, man, stop talking like that!” I pulled him into a hug. “Sweetheart, it simply isn’t true,” I said to his neck and ear. Breaking away, I looked into his eyes as tears threatened to spill onto his cheeks. “You’re like a little brother to me, y’know. And as your big sister, I won’t let you keep heading down that road. This kind of thinking…it’s not helping.” I smiled at him softly. “I tell you what, riddle me this, Batman: what’s going right? At this moment, tell me something that’s going right for you.”