The Rider List: An Erotic Romance (12 page)

He’s not smiling back, but he says, “Not really, no.”

I sense something is wrong.

He looks at me and reads my face as he wipes his lips with a napkin. “I just don’t have much contact with them. You know, time passes, I got busy, they got busy. It happens. I get home for holidays, but that’s about it. I need to get back there soon. I’ve mostly stayed away because my oldest brother is an asshole.”

“Are your parents still together?”

“Almost forty years now.”

“Wow.” I think about how long that is, compared to how long my parents were married. I also think about how lucky he is that he has an intact family and it’s a shame he doesn’t see them very much, but it’s not my place to say anything. He has his reasons. I just don’t know what they are.

“You need another beer?” he asks.

“I’ll have a soda. I don’t drink much.”

“Two isn’t much. And yes, I’m stopping at two. Don’t worry. I’ll get us back to my place safely.”

My eyes go wide. “Who says I want to go back to your place?”

“Me.” He clearly knows I’m kidding, but I’m still turned on by how confidently he says that one word. I think of the bag that’s in his car, the one containing the things I bought earlier, and suddenly I can’t wait for this dinner to end so we can get back to his place.

But he’s ordering that second beer, and after the waitress walks away to go get it, I carry on the questions. “Have you ever come close to getting married?”

He rolls his eyes.

“What?” I ask.

“That’s a really complicated topic.”

“It doesn’t have to be.” I think for a moment as I watch him. He’s not saying anything, and it doesn’t look like he’s going to. “You can just say yes or no.”

“No.”

And wow, I’m surprised. I thought there would be some kind of complicated, messy story there. Maybe he’s telling the truth, and there’s no such story there. Maybe he isn’t telling the truth, and there’s a sordid tale of a wife and kids and, well, I don’t know. I can’t tell, but I have a feeling there’s something else there.

Adam is just looking at me, then says, “You?”

“I don’t know.”

“How can you not know if you ever came close to getting married?”

The waitress drops off his beer, buying me a half a minute or so to consider how I’m going to answer this. I don’t want to get into it too deeply, but I also don’t want to brush it off completely because I think he’ll see right through that and he’ll think the story is more interesting than it really is.

“There was one guy. But he’s out of the picture now.” Well, shit, that’s not really true. He
was
out of the picture, but now he’s poking his head back into frame. God only knows why.

“Who ended it?”

“I did.” I pick up my fork and reach across the table, stabbing one of the diced potatoes left on his plate.

“Help yourself,” he says. There’s a look in his eye. It’s like he’s focusing on me harder, and the corners of his eyes turn up to match the grin on his face.

I turn my head to one side, slightly, and look at him. “What’s that look for?”

“You fascinate me.”

I feel a surge run through my chest. The kind you get where you’re leaning back in a chair and almost fall but catch yourself at the last minute. It was those words, but more so the way he’s looking at me.

He’s not using it as some kind of flattering line. He doesn’t have to. I’m already with him. He’s saying that genuinely. I fascinate somebody. I fascinate
him
.

Maybe I shouldn’t make a joke right now, but I can’t help it. It’s the only way I can regain my mental balance here. “I fascinate you because I took one of your potatoes without asking?”

He leans back in his chair, sips his beer, and puts it down on the table, all the while never taking his eyes from mine. “Yes.”

“Really? It’s that easy? Come on.”

“That, and everything else I know about you so far.”

So far.

He’s leaving in a few weeks, going back to God knows where, to do whatever it is that he does, so everything he knows about me
so far
is pretty close to all he’s going to know about me.

I’m very aware of how this is making me feel, and it bothers me. There’s no way I’m going to make myself vulnerable to another guy, and let him know that I’m starting to feel more than just his physical touch, that I’m hoping all of this doesn’t end when his stay is over. No chance I’m doing that.

. . . . .

Adam asked me about a place called The Battery, and we walk down there after dinner. It’s the waterfront area at the end of the peninsula of Charleston. Old, million-plus dollar homes line the streets, all of them multiple levels with porches on each floor looking out over the water.

There’s a sidewalk across the street. It’s always jammed with tourists this time of year, especially this time in the evening.

I tell him about the open area that holds old oak trees, a couple of verandas, and Civil War era cannons, all pointing out to Fort Sumter, the site of the beginning of the war.

There’s a lot of history to take in here, but we’re not interested in that tonight. We stop along the walkway and lean on the railing. Down below, the steady but small waves of the harbor break on the rocks that line the edge of this part of town.

A strong breeze comes in off the harbor, and the late evening air isn’t as difficult to stand.

“I used to come down here a lot as a kid,” I say.

Adam looks at me.

“Those lights out there”—I point and his eyes follow—“I used to think I could see all the way across the ocean. Like that was England or some other country. Isn’t that stupid?”

He’s silent for a few seconds, then, almost under his breath and just loud enough for me to hear, he says, “Not at all. I used to go outside at night and look up at the stars. There was a long time period during my childhood when I was convinced I was seeing UFOs.”

I laugh. Not because I’m making fun of him. I laugh because I’m relieved that my childhood memory of being able to see across the Atlantic Ocean doesn’t seem as embarrassing now.

He goes on, “I never told anyone.”

“No?”

He shakes his head. “Not my brothers, not my parents, nobody.”

“I told my mom about being able to see England from here.”

“What did she say?”

I pause for just a moment, remembering how sweet it was. “She said that’s exactly what I was seeing.”

Adam smiles. “I guess I was…I don’t know, maybe ten or so when I figured out those UFOs were airplanes.”

“That’s about how old I was when I realized the lights of England were really ships anchored at sea.”

He reaches for me and pulls me close to him. I think he’s going to lean in for a kiss, but he just looks at me. Finally his lips touch mine. It’s soft and slow. There’s nothing sexual about it. It’s pure closeness. It’s not us, it’s not what we do, but here we are doing it.

When his lips separate from mine, he says, “I can’t believe how fast this summer is going by. I wish I would have gotten to know you earlier.”

I feel a sharp pang in my chest and stomach. “Well,” I say, “considering that you’re leaving in a few weeks, if you want to get to know more about me, you better start doing it quickly.”

“I’ll give that some thought,” he says. “But right now, all I want is you naked.”

There goes the sweet moment. I’m kind of glad it’s over.

Those few words set my skin on fire and I want to be naked with him. I want his hungry mouth on my body. I want…no, I need him inside me.

Chapter Sixteen

Evan

Back at the bungalow, I tell her we’re going upstairs.

She looks at me, a surprised expression on her face. “Oh really?”

I nod, and tilt my head in the direction of the stairwell.

She walks and I follow, watching her ass sway as she climbs the stairs. I reach out and grab the hem of her skirt, lifting it a little. She reflexively swats a hand behind her legs, misses, and doesn’t try again. I lift it more so I can see the backs of her thighs and I run my fingertips over her soft skin.

“You’re really impatient,” she says, playfully.

Sliding a few fingers into her panties, I feel her bare ass. “You’re fucking irresistible.”

We reach the top of the stairs and I tell her to go all the way down the hall to the last bedroom.

I don’t know if she remembers this, but it’s the room that was totally empty when I checked in. They had mentioned they were replacing all of the furniture in it to match all the new stuff in the other bedrooms, but the shipment hadn’t arrived yet. That was before they knew I would be staying here alone and that I wouldn’t be needing it, so it’s still empty. Well, empty except for two changes I made earlier this afternoon.

She’s saying, “Isn’t this the empty…” and she stops as she opens the door. “Oh.”

There’s a tall floor lamp in one corner. When I brought it in from the other room, I plugged it in and put it on a dim setting.

There’s also a chaise lounge in the center of the room. It’s black, and stands out in the soft lighting against the light gray, almost white carpet.

Audrey looks surprised, maybe even a little nervous. I can tell by the way she pulls one corner of her bottom lip between her teeth and then quickly lets it go.

I take the bag from her and walk over to take a seat. She’s moving toward me and I tell her to stop.

“I guess it’s no mystery why I had you pick these up.” I remove the scarves from the bag. There are two of them, both black, one longer than the other, exactly as I told her.

She smiles. “Not really, no.”

“How did you feel when you saw the list?”

“Excited.”

“Did you have fun picking out the clothes?”

She nods.

“I like what you chose. Did you get two of them?”

She looks at me for a moment, then says, “Yeah, I did. But why two of the same outfit?”

I ignore her question as I take off my jacket and hang it on the doorknob. “And how did you feel when you bought these?” I hold up the scarves.

“Embarrassed.”

“Really?”

She nods. “The lady at the sales counter had no idea why I was buying them, but it’s all I could think about.”

“She might have known. She might even have these at home.”

Audrey laughs a little. “If you had seen her, you would seriously doubt that.”

I place the bag on the floor and slide it under the chair. I run the silk scarves through my hands. “Never underestimate the depths of people’s sexual secrets.”

Her eyebrows raise a little. “Yeah, I’m beginning to learn that.”

“Tease me,” I say.

Her eyes dart to the left, then to the right. “How?”

“Earlier you said you’d model your new clothes for me.”

She walks a few steps, putting a hand on her hip. She has a big smile on her face. She’s having fun and I’m loving this aspect of unraveling Audrey’s dirty side.

“Walk back toward me,” I say.

She moves closer, closer, and when she’s inches from me, I put my hands on her hips and spin her around. She’s up against the wall with her back to me.

I don’t even have to tell her what to do with her hands—she puts them up on the wall.

I reach in front of her and cup her tits as I lean down to her ear. “I’ve wanted to do this all night.”

My hands drift down her body, to her thighs, where I give her a little squeeze, then it’s on to her ass. I’m bunching up the dress in my hands as I do this, lifting it higher and higher. With enough fabric in my hands now, I pull. Hard. The dress rips open.

Audrey gasps. She throws her head back and her hair moves to expose her neck. My mouth is immediately on it, sucking, tasting her skin.

“Okay?” I ask.

Her answer comes quick and forcefully. “Yes.”

I turn her around and slip my fingers into the waist of her panties, pulling them down her legs. She kicks out of them, stepping out of her shoes at the same time.

I take her hands and put them on my chest. “Your turn.”

She starts to unbutton my shirt.

“No.” I stop her. She looks up and realizes.

She holds eye contact with me as she moves her fingers inside my shirt between the buttons. She pulls. Hard. Buttons fly off my shirt, a couple of them bouncing off the wall just behind her and clattering on the wood floor. She yanks again, this time opening it fully.

Audrey’s expression is one of surprise and eagerness, just what I was hoping for. I know she’s never done anything like this before.

She runs her palms over my chest, then the tip of each forefinger around my nipples as she continues to look up at my face.

Lifting my hands to the sides of her face, I pull her closer to me, kissing her deeply, feeling her tongue slide along mine. She breathes into my mouth as my hands move lower down her face, her neck, finally grabbing hold of her dress again.

I pull hard and the rest of her dress tears open. I pull again, and again, ripping it off her body, then move my hands behind her and unfasten her bra.

She makes a little moaning sound in her throat without opening her mouth and it makes my cock twitch, loving the fact that I’ve made her growl a little for me. And, fuck, it’s hot.

I look down at it, then back up to her. “Tease.”

Her face is serious, her eyes wide.

“Good tease. The times we’ve been on the beach,” I say, “I’ve noticed the way guys look at you.”

“I don’t.” She reaches down and unbuckles my belt, and lowers the zipper. I’m not having to tell her to do any of this, she just does it, and it’s making me crazy with lust.

“I know. I’ve noticed that, too. You’re oblivious to it. Why do you think that is?”

She shrugs, just standing in front of me, bare naked and answering questions. She lets my pants fall to the floor, then my boxers, and she starts softly feeling my cock. I’m loving this.

“I don’t know,” she says. “I guess…”

I know what she’s going to say, but her modesty won’t let her say it, so I finish the thought for her. “You’re used to it. It doesn’t faze you anymore. You ignore it.” I back up, walking to the chaise lounge, where I sit and lean back. “All those guys would kill to be in my position right now. And guess what? It doesn’t bother me at all.”

She looks almost a little disappointed, like maybe she was expecting me to be more territorial, and not liking that guys look at her. “It doesn’t?”

I shake my head. “They can look all they want, and it doesn’t matter because you’re always coming home with me.”

She takes a step toward me then, not waiting for me to tell her to. It means she’s eager. It means she couldn’t stand there any longer. It means she needed to touch me and to be touched by me. It’s perfect.

Time moves slowly as she inches toward me. My mind races with the thoughts of all the things I’ve denied myself over the years because I had to, and how I’m now in a position to let all those things play out.

All with this woman who I met just weeks ago, and who turned out to be perfect for everything I’ve wanted to do. I didn’t come here looking for it. I didn’t come here looking for anything close to it. And I certainly didn’t expect to find someone who so quickly turned into my fantasy girl, but I did, and here she is walking toward me, naked and ready for whatever I want to do.

I sit on the edge of the chaise and hold out my arms as she gets closer. She stands in front of me, pressing her body against my chest.

Our height difference makes her only slightly taller than me when I’m sitting down, so her tits are right at mouth level. I touch the tip of my tongue to one of her nipples. Her arms wrap around my neck and she looks down as I look up.

She watches me trace a circle around the edge of her nipple. I open my mouth wider and suck it in, my lips sealing around it, then I let it go.

Leaning back a little, I hold up the two scarves. “Ready for these?”