Your bodies rock together on the firm mattress. His hand gripping your jaw tightly, the ring on his finger digging into the meat of your cheek as he forces eye contact, all the while his cock slides in and out of your warm body, covered in the creamy sheen of your combined arousal.
“Eyes on me, that's it.” His cool breath washes over your face, all honey and copper. That Nor’Carolina lilt just setting your soul on fire. Burnin’ just for him.
Eyes glassy, your mouth hangs open, completely lost in his deep, purposeful thrusts. His fanged smile widens and his eyes twinkle with an almost demonic light as he gazes down upon your enraptured countenance.
“Stay with me, sweet girl. Wanna make you feel alla’ this. Every. Fuckin’. Inch.”
His angle is perfect and every roll of his hips drives his cock into ‘that' spot, setting off fireworks in your core that build rapidly into a blissful crescendo that make your body go taut and your thighs tremble as you moan your praises into the night.
A deep mocking chuckle rumbles in his chest “Aww, Darlin’ You made a mess.”
His thrusts slow but they don’t stop, instead they linger. Circling his hips as he bottoms out inside of you. You’re sloppy now, creaming up his cock like frosting on a cupcake. He knows you're sensitive. Knows rubbing himself on your clit like that is too much for you, especially after the way he just took you apart but he loves the noises you make when he does. The pained panic in your eyes that mimics prey as you beg for a moment of mercy. Gods but he could laugh…
“She doesn’t need makeup,” Happy thinks to himself as he watches you get ready for the club party. A beer in one hand and a joint in the other as he sits on the corner of your bed. He would never tell you not to of course. You needed to look good on his arm, you’re his Ol’ Lady; but he preferred you without, bare skinned and buck naked. Shut away from the world outside where he had your undivided attention and he could keep you safe from harm.
Hes been watching you for twenty minutes now and you’re still not finished. Hell, you hadn’t even started on your hair yet and that was a whole other world of over complication. You were currently working on a thick swathe of black eyeliner that came to a sharp point at the outside corner of your eye and the concentration on your face is adorable. Occasionally you’d stop and tilt your head as you examine your work with a critical eye then begin again, fixing some imperceptible imperfection that will be running down your face in a few hours anyway.
Forty minutes in and you release your hair from the comically large rollers and begin to style your hair. Again, you didn’t need to. A messy bun, piled haphazardly on your head with wispy tendrils framing your face was his favorite but of course you would rather die than be seen like that. Especially not in front of the club girls. Fuck no, he smiles. You needn’t worry about them, they couldn’t ever compare to you.
An hour has gone by and still transfixed; he watches you stand and drop your robe. His cock twitching to life in his jeans when you walk over to the bed, tits bouncing and hips swaying as you approach. His posture changes as you arrive, he sits up a little straighter, caressing your hip as you pass by and begin to dress in the clothes you had set out and judging from your outfit; skinny jeans and a cropped tank, tonight was gonna get messy.
“Can you fasten this for me, Babe?” Her voice brings him gently from his reverie and he stands and takes the silver chain from your hands, the electricity of your touch still rushes straight to his cock. It's why you still have a hold on him. He fastens the cool metal around your throat and revels in the sense of pride that puffs out his chest when he sees his name on the pendant. You’re his.
You finish dressing and look yourself over in the mirror and he shakes his head as you start tweaking your hair and makeup again and he rolls his eyes and walks towards the door. He waits, leaning on the frame as you finish off. The last thing you do before you head out for the night always makes him smile. You check your phone case and make sure you have cash and your atm card stashed then you stuff it into your left bra cup, in the right goes your dab pen and your front door key. As you reach the front door you stop again and check the mirror, spraying a liberal amount of his favorite perfume on your neck and chest before he drags you out by the wrist to his bike.
He sat up and passed his palms over his face as he gazed out the windshield into the night and exhaled loudly, “Nah...I'm ok, Darlin’. You?” He glances at my shaking hands and leans over to gently pry the gun from my white knuckle death grip, placing it on the dash in his eyeline and within easy reach should he need it.
Her eyes quickly scan his body looking for blood, not quite believing that he came out of the fire fight unscathed, “Oh, thank fuck. I thought for sure that you…that they…No. I’m not hurt….Oh my God…I just…I killed somebody…” She was starting to ramble as the adrenaline wore off, her wrist hurt and she began to notice the sharp throb caused by the kick back.
He turned to her shaking his head emphatically and tried to stop her train of thought before it overtook her, “Hey, hey come on…it’s ok. You did good. You did so fuckin’ good! You saved my life…and yours too. You think they would have let you go? Nah, Hun…they don’t play like that…bastards would have tapped you in the head like it was nothing.” His eyes seemed to look at her differently, with a hint of vulnerability that she hadn’t seen before. “I need to call this in, ok? I can leave out your part…if you want? I can say you were in the truck and you didn’t see anything.”
With a nod she agrees to keep what had happened tonight a secret just between them, not knowing what the club would do if they knew she had done something she had no right getting caught up in. Or what the retribution would look like, especially since she didn’t have the level of protection that Juice had. “Who were they, do you think?”
“Fuck knows. If we’re lucky it was just a couple of junkies trying to rob us. I'm thinking it was AB though. We’re beefin’ with em’hard right now…I’m sorry…Sorry you got involved, sorry you had to do…that.” he adds with a shuddering sigh, knowing all too well how it will stain her soul, wake her in the night and haunt her quiet moments forever.
Juice takes out an old flip phone and calls someone, Chibs, it sounds like and they talk for a while as she sits there quietly listening to him telling the unfortunate tale, thankfully omitting any part she had played in it and gleaning from it that a car is being sent for them. When it arrives Juice tells her to wait in the truck as he gets out to discuss the next steps with a couple of Sons and she feels slightly unnerved when he gestures to her and they look over but she needn’t have worried as they merely exchange rides and part ways.
The whole drive back is silent and when they arrive at the garage they sit for a while, tired yet grateful to be coming home. The sun is coming up and it's hard to believe how fast it all happened. One minute you’re complaining that you’re bored the next…well…you wish you were still bored…because some things you can’t ever take back. Some things though, she can; and she fully intended to.
“Hey, j? She begins, “I'm sorry for being a dick to you in the office earlier, it just came out before I even thought. I know I'm an asshole but right then I really didn’t mean to be.” She lets out a shuddering sigh and leans her head back on the rest, her eyes closed. Apologising was not her strong suit but it was something she could get behind working on.
“Don’t worry bout’ that shit. I got thick skin. An if I ain’t used to you by now...”he chuckles and attempts to wave away her apology but she doesn’t let him.
“No. No…I can be a cold ass bitch. I just want you to know that out of everyone I kinda…feel like you deserve it the least…” Her words are grudging but heartfelt and it shows, “If you’d have…” she trails off as a wave of emotion threatens to take her out.
Juice had the good grace to look away, giving her a moment, “Look. I ain’t gonna forget what you did for me tonight…you need anything, i'm your man. Always…” When he looks at her again it's almost shocking and it takes him a beat to react. He tentatively reaches out and wipes the tears from her cheeks and pulls her into a much needed hug.
“Shhh…I gotcha.” He whispered as he held her tightly, his hand rubbing her back in slow circles as she sobs into his shoulder. He holds her for as long as she needs, swaying her gently and not letting go until she pulls away. He cups her cheeks and presses his forehead against hers, “You are a pain in my ass, Princess,” he smiles sadly, “but I am damn glad that you were watchin’ my back tonight.” Juice was done waiting. Done thinking that he wasn’t good enough for her. Done making excuses to not bring her in and never let her go. He was claiming her as his, pure and simple and it was happening right now.
Gazing into his deep smouldering brown eyes, her breath mingled with his and the air became infused with need. A need for comfort and safety and above all a need to be utterly enveloped in his strong arms. She pressed her tear damp lips to his in a soft yet desperate kiss which he gently returned. Cupping the back of her neck he pulled her in, slipping his tongue between her parted lips as he tilted her head to deepen the kiss. Long, languorous and intimate, every lick of his tongue stoked the embers of her arousal. When they part for breath, their lips still touch, betraying the deep attraction that they felt for each other.
“Fuck…nothing quite like a brush with death to light a fire under your ass, huh?” Juice whispered, “You sure about this? You’ve been through hell tonight…you want me to stop, I’ll sto-”
The little growl he made when she pulled him back in went straight to her core. Spreading an aching wetness through her lips and folds. Mirroring her urgency he lifts her smaller form with ease over the console between them to straddle his lap, fully reclining the seat and taking her down with him. Their tongues press and glide sinuously together whilst Juice's strong hands slide down her back to cup her ass, squeezing the generous flesh and grinding her against his rapidly hardening cock.
The need to feel his warm olive skin on hers is maddening, she pulls off her hoodie and t-shirt and casts the unwanted barriers aside as he gazes up at her, awed by the sight. Hands that had lain on her hips now twitched restlessly as he enjoyed the show that he had imagined countless times in his quiet moments, until he saw those perfect lace covered mounds and he couldn’t resist returning his rough hands to her soft skin. Gliding them up to her waist to cup her firm breasts and test their weight in his hands before sliding them around her back to the fastening of her bra and unhooking it, as she returned her hungry lips to his he peeled it from her body and dropped it with the rest on the worn carpeted floor of the car and filled his hands with their yielding softness.
He kneaded her breasts roughly and teased her pebbled nipples until they ached beneath his touch and made her gasp into his kisses. His open mouth dragged over her skin leaving a cooling trail of saliva down her throat and over her collarbone until he reached her tits licking and suckling each in turn as he groaned his praises.
Yanking down the zipper on his hoodie she pushed it off his strong shoulders and hastily removed his white tank. His body was fucking ridiculous, something far too perfect and precious. So smooth and soft and fuck he smelled so good. He was like fuckin’ art, like a marble sculpture come to life. The friction in her pants as she rolled her damp crotch over his hard on was delicious. Eliciting sexy groans as he lavished her breasts with attention, until he eventually gives in to his throbbing cock and releases her nipple with a wet pop. Juice wraps his arms around her waist and scrambling backwards ungainly they somehow manage to switch positions, clambering clumsily into the backseat until she ends up beneath him. He tugs at her work pants impatiently and removes them, boots and all. Juice doesn't wait, once his belt and fly are open he pulls out his aching cock, pushes her panties aside and presses himself inside her with a bone deep groan.
She moaned loudly and arched off of the seat, widening her legs as much as she could in the confined space. His thrusts are shallow and fast at first, taking her for the absolute joy of being alive. Until the abject pleasure of being inside her takes him and his strokes lengthen and deepen, as do his groans of pleasure when the both of them relax into it. Resting on one elbow, his other hand pulls her thigh to his hip and he buries his face into the crook of her neck and loses himself completely inside of her. In the smooth ridges of that silken fist that didn’t want to let go.
Juice pulls back slightly to gaze at the intense pleasure written all over her face, lit up with ecstasy and a little help from the rising Californian sun. Her eyes meet his and a smile plucks at the corners of her lips, earning her a contagious grin that widens hers, bringing her walls down completely.
Her hands slid down his lean muscular back to grasp handfuls of his toned ass, encouraging him to go deeper as she met his thrusts. It earns her a growled chuckle that is almost lost in the moans of pleasure, wet slaps of skin on skin and clinking of his samcro belt buckle as his hips roll and rut between her trembling thighs. His cock hits and drags against her sweet spot making her eyes roll to the whites, melting her pussy into a creamy puddle that leaked out around his dick. She wasn’t quiet either. Moaning and praising his prowess loudly. There was no one around this early but she probably wouldn’t have cared if there was, he felt too good inside.
He's getting close now, she feels it. Hears it. His brow is furrowed, his face flushed. His jaw set as he tried to hold back. Wanting her to come first before he fills her and marks her as his in the most primal way he can. He gave her a warning look and before he could voice his desperate need his impending orgasm triggered hers and she cried out in ecstasy. Fucking her through her climax and his own and coming inside her without a thought of consequence beyond making her his.
As the waves of intense pleasure begin to wane his shaking arms give out and he slumps atop her body and tries to catch his breath and his wits atop his similarly affected lover. His hand snakes up the back of her neck and tangles in the sweat damp hair of her nape and nuzzles her cheek as they pant for air in the now stuffy space.
They lay together quietly on the back seat. Warm in the afterglow, her fingertips ghost along his obliques as he presses soft kisses behind her ear. His nose brushes up into her hairline and he inhales her sweet scent. “So…ah, you wanna maybe go get a beer sometime?” He whispered playfully, smiling into her hair and biting his lip as he waited for her to answer.
“You asking me out on a date, Juice?” She smiled so hard it made her cheeks ache. She hadn’t expected him to ask and her heart swelled with happiness.
He lifted his head and mirrored her goofy grin, “Might be, you gonna say yes?”
She shrugged and felt her face flush, “I mean, I wouldn’t say no to breakfast, I guess.”
“What's the job again?” She asked in the fade and lull between songs that you get on old albums
“Some woman called, needs a tow,” he shrugs and turns off the music to better concentrate on the road ahead that was little more than a rutted track at this point. He had slowed the truck considerably so we could better look for the breakdown and spare us both being shaken like a jar of pennies.
“Out here, at 4 in the morning?” She asked sceptically as she wondered about what set this woman on her journey so late down the dark back roads on the outskirts of town. Can’t have been anything good. She knew that she wouldn’t want to be out here alone. She didn’t even want to be out here in the dark with Juice and that's saying something.
“All I know is she ain’t gonna be there. She got a ride and wants it towed back to the garage. Said she’d come by tomorrow to deal with it.”
The answer should satisfy her, it makes complete sense, who’d want to be out here in the middle of the night waiting for a tow truck? She watched in silence as the front of the truck ate up the road ahead, unable to shake a feeling of unease that settled in her gut. After around ten minutes of searching the headlights illuminated a sedan parked at the edge of a dirt track that runs by an irrigation ditch onto some farmland. The whole scene set her teeth on edge and Juice noticed as he pulled on his gloves.
“You scared of the dark? Or is it the skinwalkers that’re spookin’ ya?” He asks ominously and snickers to himself when he sees the look on her face.
“Fuck you. I'm not scared! ”she snapped, making a liar out of herself and flying her true colours again. Of course she was scared and it mystified her how he didn’t feel the wrongness too. “Don’t you think something feels off though? About this whole thing?” she gestured with her head to the breakdown in front of them and the dark of the farmland that surrounded them on all sides.
“If it makes you feel better then stay in the truck, i’ll hook this shit heap up and you can skin up a fatty for when we get back, yeah?” he nudged her shoulder, kindly foregoing the chance to tease her again and he backed the tow truck up to the rear of the car. As he went to hop out the open door she put her hand on his arm instinctively, immediately pulling it back in embarrassment. He just looked at her and smiled that smile, “It’s just a tow. Nothing bad is gonna happen,” he shook his head as he flicked on the floodlights, hopped down to the ground and crunched over the gravel and dirt to the machinery at the back of the vehicle.
She watched him walk into the bright white light of the floods with a deep sense of foreboding. Her eyes flicked to the footbed of the truck between her feet, beneath her seat where she knows a gun is kept for situations just like this and after a millisecond of thought she reaches beneath and pulls it out of the towel it's wrapped in and she keeps it in her lap. Its weight reassuring in her hands yet knowing full well that she was going to be in the shit for even touching it but she figures that she’d rather they be pissed for that than anyone being hurt, or worse. Looking over her shoulder she watches through the back window as Juice attaches the tow.
The clank of chains and the whirr of the motor are familiar and she can gauge where Juice is up to by sound alone. Pulling herself over the console she switches seats and sits in the driver's side where Juice had left the door open slightly and resumes her tense watch in the wing mirror, silently willing him to work faster so they can both get the hell out of there. His phone is in the console beside her and she gives it a quick tap to check the time; and it hits her. The reason for her unease. There's no signal, nothing. There never was out here. So how the hell did Miss Camaro pop off a call to us and to her ride?
Then her eyes dart back to the mirror and she sees it. Her heart stops. In the dark on the edge of the light a shadow moves towards Juice as he hooks the back wheels up to the pulley. It's big, at least six feet and it moves slow as it stalks. There is no time for thought, only action. Something takes hold of her and guides her, moving as if on auto pilot. As if someone who actually knew what they were doing had taken the reins. Slipping her out of the open driver's side door and walking her over the gravel on kitty cat paws she used the darkness to conceal herself. In the time it had taken her to get out and make her way to the back of the truck the shadow had stepped into the light and it was a relief of sorts. It was just a man. Not a skinwalker. Not a bear or a mountain lion. Just a man that had Juice at gunpoint with his hands in the air, backing away from his assailant slowly. They speak but she doesn't hear a word even though they are only feet away, nothing registers even as she raises her arm. Until the blast jarred her arm and rang in her ears and both men dropped to the ground. More shots fire out in the night and before she can drop the gun Juice bodies her and carries her back to the truck and bundles her in. The tires spin as they try to gain traction in the loose dirt, spraying the sedan with gravel as they take off at speed with the tow chains swinging dangerously behind them.
About a mile away he turns down a side road and cuts the engine and lights, slumping over the wheel, shaking as he tries to collect himself.
“J? You ok?” She asked tentatively, hoping and praying for the best, “Are you hurt?”
A quiet grunt is forced from your body as it slams into the door panel, bodied by a very horny and incredibly impatient Happy. His strong hands pop the buttons on your skinny jeans then he yanks them down your thighs, taking your panties with them. His belt buckle clinks when he unfastens his jeans and takes out that thick slab of juicy man meat you love so much. You can see the set of his jaw in your mind's eye, that laser focus in his deep brown eyes…that scowl he gets when he wants something and absolutely nothing will get in his way. His blood always runs so hot it’s intoxicating and infectious, it makes you wanna play bitch for him so fuckin’ bad it hurts.
Happy grips your wrists tightly and raises them to the coat hooks above your head and you hold on, you’re going to need the anchor. His hands move lower, sliding down your elongated body until he reaches your hips and grips you tightly in his strong hands, his fingers digging into your perpetually bruised hips as he pulls you back, grinding your ass on his rigid dick and smearing his pre cum possessively. He yanks your hips back with one hand and the other gathers a fist full of hair and presses your face into the wooden door.
A sick thrill rushes through you when the filthy, wet noises of him spitting on his dick and stroking it roughly are the only sounds you can hear in the otherwise quiet room…that and the thump of the clubhouse speakers below where the Sons party on oblivious to the sweet violence that was about to be visited upon your body. Without missing a single beat he presses himself into your warm, wet and willing body with a long, low groan, filling you in one achingly slow continuous thrust. When he can go no further he stills, breathing harshly through his nose as he masters himself.
Your mouth opens and your teeth scrape across the peeling paint as a soul deep moan bubbles up from low in your clenched belly. You feel his cock dragging against your rippling walls, working its way torturously to your cervix and then he stops, willing himself to hold back until he can handle your tight heat. When he moves he is far from gentle. He is brutal. Animalistic. Utterly himself.
With half lidded eyes and mouth hanging open you take it. All of the abject pleasure pain that lights your soul on fire and melts your bones into molten sugar. He finds his rhythm and your hip bones smack rhythmically into the door, making it rattle on its hinges. Every slam into your g-spot is punctuated with a grunt and his face is buried in the crook of your neck, whispering vile and disgusting words between bites. You take every perfect inch over and over but occasionally his cock hits your cervix and the pain snaps you out of the lust filled haze that has claimed you and you realise this is too hard, too much. His words so far over the line you wanna smack him…but then he hits that sweet spot just right and all is forgiven.
When he hits that spot, it's all worth it. That deep well of pleasure from where he draws oceans of blissful aching pleasure. You feel your orgasm coming closer, you feel it at the edge of every thrust and you will it to claim you mind, body and soul. You’re almost there…almost…
His hand slaps across your butt over and over, taking pleasure in watching the welting handprints appear on your skin and hearing the pained whimpers fall from your lips between shameless moans that spill loud and ragged from your lips. They only encourage him to move faster, fuck up into you harder with pure aggression as he takes what he wants from your body.
“Come. Now. Right fuckin’ now…gonna fuckin’ nut…” he growls in your ear and your body obeys, Your skin tightens and your pussy closes in a fist around Happys dick and then…”Oh my God”…”Happy!” Warm waves of radiating euphoria contract and release your pussy around his pulsing length to massage out every last drop of hot release. His teeth are buried in the meat of your shoulder and he moans long and low as he comes. He keeps going, his hips slowing as your combined juices drip to the bare wooden floor. Eventually his hips still and he gasps for breath noisily, his forehead resting on the door beside yours.
When he catches his breath he unceremoniously pulls away, his softening cock letting out a gush of come that trickles down your leg. He redresses and sits on the bed, lighting a cigarette with his zippo and throwing the lighter onto the nightstand. He leaves you there, seemingly forgotten for now as you recover from the exquisite roughness that you endured and head to the bathroom.
You know it's nothing against you…he just needs a moment to decompress. To come back to himself from wherever it is he goes when he fucks you that way. By the time you emerge from the tiny restroom in one of his club t-shirts you find him smoking a cigarette and holding out his hand to you. You’re definitely walking funny and the smirk on his face confirms it.
He pulls you down onto the bed with him and kisses your forehead just once, chuckling smugly to himself.
“You’re a fuckin’ monster…you know that?”
“Shut the fuck up…you know imma eat that pussy…kiss them bruises…” he buries his face in your neck, surrounding himself with the scent of flowers, weed and coconut and inhaling deeply, grounding himself in the comfort of your presence.
“Mhmm…and get hard again thinkin’ bout how I got' em? I know the drill.” you flash him a teasing grin and bite your lip.
He laughs, his smoker's chest rumbling quietly “…I see ya’ right, don’t i?”
You take another hit of the j before handing it over to the quiet strength of the body behind you. Settling into the possessive hold of his inked arms and closing your eyes. The ghost of a smile playing the corners of your lips and a quiet moan of contentment slipping from between their pillowy softness. Taking comfort from the rise and fall of his tattooed chest as he inhales and watching the plumes of smoke that appear from over your shoulder join the burning embers and smoke in the night sky.
His large hand slips beneath your (his) hoodie and slides up your side to hold your ribs, his thumb between your breasts. Stroking the soft skin with his calloused thumb. Burying his nose in your long hair and inhaling the scent of you and all its soothing coconut familiarity.
You reach behind you to cup the back of his head, scritching the stubbly hairs with your long nails and getting a pleased hum in return. You turn your face and press your forehead to his cheek. Nuzzling intimately in the warm glow of the fire and receiving a soft kiss on the forehead in return. He holds the joint to your lips and you take a long drag and hold it before letting the smoke escape into the cool night air.
This Happy was your favourite version of the man that had claimed you. Soft and loving and high, you had to make the most of it before he led you back to his room to take what was his in a bruising display of complete ownership. Not that you were complaining of course. You knew all too well that you would be taken care of. Repeatedly. And when he was done with you the softness would return, with tender lingering kisses and whispered words of love in the sweet afterglow before sleep claimed you both.
“I'm bored, J…” she stated, following it up with a long exhale from her pursed lips as she picked at the threadbare fabric on the arm of the couch. Her gaze was trained on the ancient Pennzoil wall clock, the rust speckled hand told her that it was just past three am, not even over the four o’clock hump yet. Tonight was dragging ass for sure.
Juice was sitting at the crowded, paper strewn desk where he had cleared a small island in the chaos for himself, “You and me both. You wanna play cards or somethin’?” He answered with a weary sigh from behind his computer screen and after draining his second can of Monster he closed the laptop and turned towards her. His beautiful brown eyes looked at her from beneath his hood, deep and soulful with a hint of sadness that never quite left them. Even when he flashed that cute, dimpled smile…it was always there hiding behind the boyish twinkle that lit them up.
Not that she had noticed, of course. Or that she would ever admit to. The guy was ridiculously hot and totally out of her league, she had only just stopped blushing whenever he spoke to her, which was most days because more often than not Gemma paired them up together. Especially since she wasn’t allowed to work with Tig anymore, for obvious reasons. It didn’t help that he was so easy to get along with either or that he always had the best fuckin’ bud. Yeah, Juice was the full package as far as she was concerned.
“Cards, really? How old are you, dude?” She cringed at her tone even as the words came out of her mouth, why was she such a dick? Juice was one of the few guys at the garage that treated her like a mechanic, not just an below average, below notice piece of ass that walked around with a wrench and a bad attitude and she truly appreciated it, the snark was like an instant reflex by now and on this occasion it wasn’t deserved.
He groaned and sat back on the office chair, put his feet on the desk and pulled his hood over his face. “I dunno. Why don't you take a nap?…do us both a favour.” He adds quietly as he crosses his arms over his chest, effectively ending the conversation right there.
An awkward silence fell over the small office. Relieved only by the sound of the tv, that she was pretending to watch, all the while mentally berating herself, her big mouth and the stunning amount of immaturity that she just displayed in front of Juice. For. Fucks. Sake.
Staring at the screen her eyes occasionally darted to juice as he slept. His mouth hung open slightly, the rest of his face was hidden in the shadow cast by his hood. “So fucking cute,” she thought to herself, imagining snuggling up with him on the couch. Faded into her twee little fantasies she almost jumped out of her skin when the phone rang loudly in the small space. Juice bolted up, almost falling out of the office chair as it rolled back. “God damn it.” he cursed as he scrambled for the phone.
She snorted an obnoxious cackle that earned her a middle finger and a grudging smile as he took the call, writing down the details and taking payment over the phone. “We on?” she asked hopefully as he put the handset back in its cradle. “Yeah. Breakdown out on North Road. Needs a Tow.”
Her eyes followed as he stood and stretched his lean body, his clasped hands reached for the ceiling making his reaper hoodie rise and it gave her a tantalising glimpse of his deep v, like an arrow pointing straight to heaven. It made her mouth go dry as every drop of moisture in her body rushed south. If he noticed her ogling he didn’t say anything, he just turned and grabbed the keys to the tow truck from the hook on the wall by the clogged noticeboard that held more family and club announcements than actual Teller Morrow memos and order forms and headed to the door.
“North Road? What broke down, a damn tractor? The only places that far out of town are farms and that weird pack rat house before you get into the hills.” She knew it well as she spent weekends in the foothills on her dirt bike and at bonfires with her friends-but never alone. There was nothing out there for anyone at three in the morning except darkness and the whispers in the pines. Juice just shrugged and walked out the door, so she followed, grabbing her hoodie on the way and locking the door behind her.
“Can I drive? Huh, Juice? Huh?” She pestered, trying to keep up with his longer stride by jogging alongside him. A Smile on her face as she wheedled, “Come on…I never get to drive the truck. Please?” She knew the answer already but it had never once deterred her from asking.
“Fuck no, you can’t drive. Get in the bitch seat Princess.” He opened the door and climbed into the driver's seat, leaving her to trot around to the other side to get in as he turned the key in the ignition and rumbled the engine awake. “You ain’t doin’ no night driving. Clay would kick my ass if anything happened.”
Settling into the seat she pulled on her seatbelt, “Pfft. You’re all a bunch of misogynistic butts.” Reaching over she switched on the c.d player and heavy metal blasted from the speakers as Juice pulled out of the parking spot by the garage and out into the night.
He just chuckled and shook his head as he changed the song and turned it up loud, “You only just now figuring that out?” She wrinkled her nose and declined to answer, instead putting her feet up on the dash and looking out of her window, failing to notice Juice casting an appreciative glance over her legs.
The opening riff of Walk by Pantera began to play over the speakers, their heads nodding to the aggressive beat and soon they started to sing along, punching the roof as they got into the chorus. As they sang and bantered the houses and businesses became fewer and the street lights dwindled to nothing, the road beneath the tires gradually roughened into a neglected state and the only lights were from the sporadic farmhouses that dotted the landscape until the hills picked up and then there was nothing but wild empty dark.
