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A bitter, teary laugh
bursts out of me with all the force of my frustration.
“So
what?
You’re saying he loves me? That’s a great way to show it. I don’t
deserve that. I tried to be there for you and Shane, from the time we were
little. I’ve love him since we were kids.”

A small, hard smile
thins Austin’s lips, and I replay in my head what I just said.

I toss my duffle onto
the floorboard and slide over in the seat to press myself to Austin again, one
arm around his neck, one curling under his arm and clutching at his chest. “I
love you both.”

Austin puts his arm
around me and kisses my forehead. “I know you do, baby. He knows it, too. We
just have to make him face it.”

But how do you make the
most stubborn man in the world do anything?

The question rattles
around in my head, as I slump against my warm, sweet Austin. The adrenaline
from the events of the afternoon plummets, and a soul-deep fatigue sets in. I
rest my head on Austin’s shoulder and sleep.

When I come to, we’re
still on the back roads, but it’s dark now. Thick clusters of eucalyptus press
on in the pavement, on the edge of our headlights. About thirty minutes later,
we pull up to an old chain link fence with a tarnished lock binding the gate.
Shane gets off his bike and opens one of the two packs he’s got tied to his
motorcycle. He pulls out a bolt cutter and snaps the lock.

I perk my brow at this,
and my head comes up off Austin’s shoulder.

Beside me, Austin lets
out a low chuckle. “We’re not quite as innocent as you’ve always believed,
Trina. Some of that bad boy rep is well-deserved.”

“How
much?”

“I’ll tell you, if you
really want to know, but not tonight.”

We drive through the
gate, and Shane follows, then shuts the gate behind us and rearranges the chain
and lock to look like nothing is amiss.

As our tires roll over
gravel and weeds, Austin glances with me out the window, at the cracked,
overgrown parking lot, weathered wooden picnic tables, sooty metal barbeques
sunk into the ground with concrete.

“It’s an old county
park they don’t maintain anymore,” he explains. “We can rest here for the night
and be out of this fucked up state by tomorrow mid-morning.”

“I don’t suppose the
public bathrooms are still in working order.”

“Sorry, baby,” Austin
says with a snort. “Running with the Sully boys sometimes means roughing it.”

I’ll still take it over
Bud Orrin and another day smelling of greasy diner food.

After we’ve pulled off
the pavement and parked in a clearing well back from the entrance and shielded
on all sides by thick stands of trees, and I’ve wandered into the darkness with
a tiny, dim flashlight for a bit of privacy, I come back to find Austin
unloading sleeping bags from the trunk of the Mustang. We’re lucky he likes to
go camping enough that he usually just leaves his gear in the car from May
through September. He passes one bundle to me, and we find a soft patch of
thick grass.

A nervous tingle washes
down my neck and shoulders and spine when I see Austin spread his bag right
next to mine, then kneel and skillfully manipulate the zippers to join the two
into a single larger bag. I feel like an idiot, a shallow little bimbo, for
letting my mind instantly turn to sex again. I kneel beside him and fuss with
the rest of the gear, rearranging the flashlights and a backpack of prepackaged
camping food, to avoid jumping him.

“What are you doing?”

I start at the sudden
flare of Shane’s angry voice and look up. The moonlight glows against the hard
angles of his sculpted face, rugged and shadowed with stubble around his mouth
and chin and low on his jaw. The moon is full enough that I can see he’s
looking at his brother.

Austin looks over his
shoulder at Shane. “Bedding down, why?”

Shane’s hands close into
fists at his side. “We’re on the run, and all you can think about is fucking
her.”

My mouth falls open,
but Austin looks unperturbed, offering no response beyond his calm stare.

Shane stalks away, and
I watch him go, uncertain if I’m glad or regretful that I don’t have a knife to
plant in the middle of his back. Looks will have to do.

“I can’t believe him,”
I fume. “How goddamn dare he make a remark like
that.
”

“Trina,” Austin
breathes in that soothing tone he has.

I’m still staring into
the blackness, in the direction Shane went. “What business is it of his if
someone wants to fuck me? It obviously wasn’t my business when he dumped me and
went through every other girl in town in short order.”

“Trina, let it go.”

“Is the problem that he
doesn’t want you fucking his old girlfriend? I’m not good enough? I’m not the
right kind of girl? Not slutty enough for him? Or is that he doesn’t want me
but doesn’t want anyone else fucking me either?”

“Stop it, Katrina. Look
at me. Come here.”

Now I’m the one with my
hands clenched into fists, breathing hard with anger, blood pounding in my
ears. “Well, he can just go—”

I gasp in confusion as
Austin’s hands close around my arms from behind. It reminds me of some of the
things I’ve seen him do in a fight, the way he jerks me back and sweeps one leg
under me, and the next thing I know he’s sitting on the ground and I’m in his
lap—face down!

With one hand, Austin
holds me still, tracing his thumb back and forth along one cheek of my ass,
just under my denim shorts. The other hand strokes my face as I twist in
astonishment to gape at him.

“You’re not listening
to me, Katrina,” he tells me softly. There’s
an intensity
to his expression I haven’t seen before. The hint of a smile on his face is
less good-natured, more darkly seductive. It makes my chest tighten with
anxiety but also with anticipation. “This is a problem. I don’t like that you
forget about me whenever Shane is around.”

I start to shake my
head.
“Oh, Austin, no.
I never meant—”

Austin’s thumb, still
caressing my bare skin, slides inward, under the crotch of my shorts, grazing
my panties and the lips of my trembling pussy. “I know, baby. I know you love
me.” He leans down to brush his mouth against mine, whispering, “But I’m going
to have to teach you not to put me second all the time.”

“I won’t, I promise,” I
gush, before his words have a chance to sink in. Teach me?

Austin’s teeth graze my
lower lip, scraping softly, tugging. “You remember what I said would happen
when you teased?” Breathless, cunt both wet and burning, I nod. “Pull down your
shorts, Katrina.”

I keep my gaze steady
on Austin’s face, wondering for a moment if he’s serious, secretly hoping he
is. Then I straighten enough to put my weight on my knees and bring my hands to
the buttons on my shorts. I wear them a little tight, so I have to wriggle a
bit to slide them over the curve of my butt. Austin runs his hand back and
forth along my lower back and makes a muted sound of approval deep in his
throat.

It’s more than I can
bear. I put my hands on Austin’s rough cheeks and kiss him desperately, almost
pleadingly, mewing and whimpering. He sucks on my eager tongue and smiles
before leaning away from me.

Locking his gaze with
mine, a palpable connection between us even in the darkness, he says, “Panties,
Katrina. Pull them down. I want your ass bare.”

Biting my lip to keep
from moaning, I
hook
my thumbs in the thin waistband
of my tiny black panties and drag them down to my knees. The cool breeze I
predicted this afternoon hits my moist cunt, and I shiver, feeling exposed and
slutty and more excited than I’ve been since I was sixteen and lost my
virginity to Shane.

Austin’s hand on my
back pushes me down across his lap again,
then
explores my bare ass. He palms the firm globes of my butt, digging his fingertips
lightly into my flesh, running his thumb down the crevice and toying with my
tensed, twitching asshole while I whine shamelessly.

“You’re going to stop
putting me second to Shane, aren’t you, Katrina?” he prompts, and I nod.
“No, baby, say my name.”

“Yes, Austin,” I
whisper, unable to resist pushing back on the thumb teasing my anus. He
massages my tight, puckered hole until I arch, wordlessly begging for
penetration.

Then he pulls his hand
away, and that delicious pressure is gone, a second before a sharp smack lands
on my bare bottom. I yelp and involuntarily flinch away.

His other hand slips
under me to dip into my shirt and grasp one of my full, round tits through my
bra.
One fingernail scratches back and forth over my rigid
nipple.
“Ask me for more, Katrina.”

“
More,
please, Austin,” I mutter, struggling to grasp all the feelings flooding my
mind and my body. The fact that he keeps calling me by my full name, like I’m
his naughty little girl, is making me feel dirty and horny and frantic to
please him. The stinging slap to my ass, now soothed by his caressing touch,
has my skin flushed and tingling and my clit pulsing with excitement.

The next smack is
harder, accompanied by a firm pinch of my nipple, and I bite back a cry before
whimpering, “More, Austin.”

“Don’t hold back, baby.
No one will hear you cry out.” Then he chuckles and draws one finger along my
bare slit.
“Almost no one.
And I want to hear you,
Katrina. Cry out for me, baby.”

The next slap is even
harder, and I gasp, unable to beg for more before the next blow comes down on
my warming flesh. He spanks my ass, one cheek, then the other, back and forth,
harder and faster. The way he snaps his hand makes the slaps bite and sting. My
skin burns, and I start arching and squirming without meaning to.

“Oh, fuck,” I yelp, as
the speed and force of my spanking mounts. The hand down my shirt has pulled my
tits from my bra and is twisting my tender nipples. I toss my head and keen,
knowing Shane must be able to hear me. It’s not that I don’t care he knows I’m
being spanked by his brother—it actually gets me off.

I moan and squeal for
Austin and arch my ass up toward the stinging blows. I want… I don’t know what
I want.
Everything.
I want to feel his slap on my
pussy, his fingers inside me. I want him to hold me down and pump his cock into
my tight, dirty little holes and tell me how good it feels to make me his slut.
I want him to use me harder than any man has ever used me, then hold me tight
and tell me I’m his.

Lost in my own mounting
pleasure, I’m not expecting Austin to abruptly stop spanking me and tangle his
hand in my long hair. He pulls my head back and ravages my mouth with his, as
blood rushes to the battered flesh of my ass, hot and sore. His tongue pumps my
hungry mouth until we’re both panting. Austin breathing hard is the sexiest
sound I’ve ever heard.

Twisting to face him
and straddle his lap, I gyrate wantonly on the bulge in his jeans.
 
“Please fuck me, Austin. I can’t wait
anymore. Whatever you want, I’ll do. Throw me down. Tie me up.
Whatever you want.
Make me please you.”

Austin jerks my shirt
open and yanks it and my bra straps down my shoulders. “Do you know what you’re
asking, Katrina? You give me that—you let me make you mine—and I won’t let go
of you, ever. No one will ever hurt you, and I’ll never leave you, but I’ll
make you give yourself to me in ways you can’t imagine.” He pauses, drawing a
deep breath only with great effort. His hands are still tightly fisted in my
shirt. “There are so many ways I’ve wanted you.”

I run my hands through
his soft hair, over his temples and down to the nape of his neck, and bring my
lips close enough to brush his, to feel the rough whiskers around his plump
lips. “I want it as much as you do.”

In that moment, Austin
becomes strangely calm, darkly serene. Like a deep hunger has been satisfied in
prelude to an even greater need. “Take your clothes off for me, Katrina. All of
them.”

With slow movements,
not because I’m trying to be seductive, but because I’m so lost in warm waves
of desire that I feel drunk, I shirk off my shirt and untangle myself from my
bra. My shorts and panties are just hooked to one knee, and I scoot back off
Austin’s lap to pull them off, along with my sneakers. He advances on me, on
hands and knees, and I lie back under him, my ass smarting at the pressure. I
suck a sharp breath through my teeth.

Austin straightens to
his knees to whip his t-shirt off and to unfasten his pants with slow,
deliberate motions of his deft fingers. He’s always been so lean, with deeply
defined muscles rippling along his stomach and pelvis, down into his jeans. I
want to feel his hard body pressed over mine.

“Show me you’re ready,
Katrina. Spread your pussy for me.”

Sucking on my bottom
lip, I spread my legs wide and bend my knees, sliding my hands down to my slick
cunt. Embarrassed by the whorishness of it, more turned on than I’ve ever been,
I slip my fingers into my slit and open myself, displaying my soft, pink hole
to his penetrating gaze.