The Rider List: An Erotic Romance (20 page)

Rolling onto my stomach, I feel his strong hand on my back. I bring my arms up to rest my head on them. I want this to drag out now, the need to hurry completely gone. I try to calm myself a little by concentrating on the sound of the ocean and the fresh breeze coming in through the window. All we’d need is a little music and this would be like a massage—

My thoughts stop cold right there as I feel his hand stopping on my ass and he says, “Spread your legs a little for me.”

I do, and he’s teasing the one area that’s always been off-limits. I had always been on the “no way” side of that issue, but with Evan…it’s a maybe.

He’s slow. He’s soft. He’s gentle with it.

It’s a feeling I’ve never experienced and never even imagined. It’s not just physical. There’s an enormous mental component to it for me, I realize, as he touches me more directly. There’s a major trust factor, but also a sudden and completely unexpected desire to give a part of myself to him like this.

And, if I’m being honest, it feels amazing.

“I want to see you.” His voice is as soft as his touch.

I turn my head on the pillow and look at him.

He’s lying on his side, right up against my body, his arm bent and his head propped up on his hand.

“You okay?” he asks.

I nod and my eyes flutter a little as Evan’s voice, the touch of his fingertip, and all the thoughts in my head swirl together.

We maintain eye contact like this for several minutes as he massages me there. I spread my legs a little more and lift my hips. We don’t exchange words, don’t plan it, but one time when I lift them, Evan grabs a pillow and slides it beneath my body.

Now I’m in this position for good—ass up, no longer just relaxing, but feeling that exploding need for him to be inside me.

“You like this?”

“Yeah…”

“This?” He slides the tip of his finger in.

I don’t answer with words. Instead, my answer happens in the form of me raising my hips even more and pushing back against his finger.

Evan eases me into a little rhythm. I’m starting to exhale heavily and my eyes are closed, and all I want is this kind of intimate closeness with him forever.

I’m about to say something—like how badly I want him, how desperately I need him inside me—when he moves.

He gets behind me, his hands on my hips, and I prepare myself for what I think he’s about to do…

And then I feel the head of his cock slide into my pussy. He slides into me a little more, more, then fully…and then he’s like an animal on me, fucking me deep, hard, fucking me like I want him to.

I reach out and place my palms flat on the headboard, holding myself in place.

He makes what sounds like a growling noise and I produce an involuntary grunt, followed by little whimperings as he pushes deep into me.

I feel his finger touch me again, massaging in little circles, and then the amazing feeling when his finger is inside me again, his cock right there too.

The sensation of his bare cock inside me makes me want to come, and I can feel the muscles clenching and releasing, like I’m massaging him as he slides in and out of me.

Hands flat on the bed now, I get into a kneeling position. I feel my head move back a little and realize Evan has reached up and grabbed my hair that I’d put into a ponytail.

He pulls a little harder just as I’m about to tell him to, and it’s just enough, as if he knows what kind of pressure I can take.

He’s holding on, pulling me into him. I’m pushing back into him. There’s a hard, wet sound from the gel as he thrusts against my thighs and ass.

My head drops to the bed when I suddenly feel the onset of an orgasm. It’s like something detonating inside me. Like Evan has found an entirely new way to bring me to this point.

My face is buried in the pillow, muffling the loud noises I’m making.

I can barely hear him, but he says, “I can feel you coming for me. Ah fuck…”

It’s so intense, I almost can’t take it, and I want him to come. I want to feel it happening inside me.

My legs are spread as wide as they can be and Evan is still going, but he’s slowing down. I can’t gather my thoughts enough to realize whether he’s come or if he’s just stopping. No, he didn’t come. I would have felt it.

I remember something he said to me before and when the thought hits me, I want it now.

“Wait,” I say, moving, and he slips out of me. I turn quickly on the bed, lying down on my back right in front of where he’s kneeling. My face is under his cock now. “Come in my mouth.”

Running my tongue along the bottom of his hard length, turning my head to the side, I take the tip of his cock into my mouth, swirling my tongue around as much as I can. And then he’s moving again, fucking my mouth.

I moan as I feel his fingers grab my nipple and squeeze. He pulls on it a little. There’s just enough softness mixed with a hint of pain, and I love it. It makes me suck him harder….

His cock twitches. I hear him take in a sharp breath of air. His fingers tighten around my nipple.

I move my head around in circles, feeling his cock as it throbs once then twice very quickly. Evan comes in several quick bursts, warm on my tongue. After I’ve swallowed all of it, I lift my head and run my tongue around the tip of his softening cock.

Our eyes are locked on each other’s.

“Keep doing that,” he says, shaking his head a little, “and you’re gonna be in for a long night.”

Chapter Thirty

Evan

I look out the window as the plane rises in the sky above Charleston.

I get a sinking feeling in my stomach when the wheels leave the ground, but it’s not from motion sickness. I’m still torn about whether I should be going to Denver or not.

It’s a crystal clear morning. Sunlight flashes and gleams off the little streams and ponds that dot this inland part of the city. I had hoped we’d circle out over the marsh, maybe even the ocean. What I really wanted was to be able to look down and find the resort, knowing Audrey was down there somewhere.

Over the last few days, I talked to Audrey about the trip a few times. She was supportive, but there was also a hint of concern in everything she said about my trip.

She wanted to drive me to the airport, but I didn’t want her to have to pick me up when my return flight lands in Charleston after midnight. Plus, even though it’s only a two day trip, no one likes airport goodbyes.

The answer about whether I should have made the trip comes when I realize this will be a good test for me. Better than a good test. The perfect test. Being onstage again, playing with the band in front of thousands of people, will help me gauge where I really am in my head.

Maybe I’m getting close to reaching a point where I can do it all again. Or maybe I’ll get there and decide I’ve been right for the last couple of months and remaining in the band is completely out of the question.

It’ll be good to see my mom and dad, and one of my two brothers. Mom’s announcement that Dad wanted to talk to all of us weighs heavily on me this morning. I have a pretty good idea of what he’s going to say, and I’m prepared for my response and the fallout that will come from it, mostly from my oldest brother Dale.

Closing my eyes, I try to relax. The next thing I know, it’s a couple of hours later and a flight attendant is waking me up.

“Sir, we’ve landed.”

Jesus, I slept through the landing?

My brother J.D., the middle one, the one who I get along with because he’s not a dick like Dale, texts me and says he wants to pick me up from the airport. I text back and tell him I’ve already rented a car.

An hour or so later, I’m driving out to the family ranch. The air is so different here, cooler and much lower humidity. I’d almost forgotten what it was like. Not only from being on the road for so long and barely spending any time here at all over the years, but also from being in Charleston for a good bit of the summer where the humidity is so thick you could almost bottle it, cool it down, and drink it.

It’s not only been a long time since I’ve been in Denver, it’s been a long time since I’ve been out here in the countryside. It’s flat, with mountains off in the distance. Fields and prairies that seem to stretch for an eternity.

There’s no traffic on the highway, except for the occasional motorhome that probably contains a family passing through on their way somewhere else. No one comes to this little town to stay, which is part of its charm.

I pull into the long driveway. Dad never had it paved, so it’s still dirt and pebbles, and the sound brings back memories both good and bad.

Driving up toward the house slowly, my phone chirps. It’s a text from Bruce asking me if I’m in town yet. I park, turn the car off, and tell him I’ll be there on time and that I’m turning my phone off for the rest of the day.

Before I can get out of the car, Mom emerges from the house, followed by J.D., who comes right to the car and gives me a bear hug before I can even get completely out.

He’s wearing all denim, as usual, and he tips his hat back as he says, “Jesus, man, it’s good to see you.”

“You, too.” I look up at the porch and wave to my Mom.

She waves back and I can see all the way from here that her bottom lip is quivering a little. I steel myself and prepare to take all of this in stride and not feel guilted into or out of anything, even if no one intends to do that.

Except for Dale, of course, who comes around the side of the house with a rake in his hand. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was about to charge me with it. The look on his face is not a happy one.

He approaches me and puts out his hand, like he’s introducing himself to a stranger. In fact, he says, “Nice of you to drop by, stranger.”

I shake his hand. “My favorite brother.”

J.D. laughs and says, “Yeah, right.” He’s not an idiot, but sarcasm has always escaped him.

Dale says nothing more as we walk toward the house. I give my mom a big hug and she is indeed crying. “It’s so good to have all my boys in one place.”

“Good to be here,” I say, and it’s not a lie. I’m happy to see her and J.D. And dad. Speaking of which, I ask where he is.

“Went to check on a grain order,” J.D. says. “He’ll be back for lunch.”

Mom pats me on the stomach. “I’ve cooked a feast for all my guys. Come on in.” She grips my arm, practically pulling me into the house and then not letting go once I’m inside.

Dale tells J.D. he needs his help in one of the stables, so I’m left alone with Mom for a little while. She asks about my summer and how things are going. I tell her everything pertaining to my music, and then… “I’ve met a girl.”

She’s getting something out of the oven when I say it. She puts it down on top of the stove and turns toward me. “That sounds serious.”

I laugh. “It does?”

“They way you say it, it sure does.”

I tell her a little about Audrey. Mom says she loves the name, that it’s always been a favorite of hers and it’s a shame it’s so rare these days.

She again says, “I’m so glad you’re home.”

“Remember, it’s just for two days.” She knows this, but I feel like I need to keep all of this in perspective. I’m not returning home. At least not right now.

Dad comes in through a side door, takes his hat off and says, “No wonder there’s a fancy car in the driveway.” He smiles. I get up to say hello. To dad, a fancy car is anything that isn’t a truck and/or some other kind of vehicle that isn’t more than ten years old.

“Good to see you, son.”

Dad looks old. He moves slower. He talks slower. But he’s still solid as a rock.

“Let’s get the men around the table and eat, for goodness sake,” he says.

. . . . .

We were never a family that was big on talking while we’re eating but this time is different. Mom brings up several funny memories from when the three of us were kids. J.D. has a couple of his own. Dad and I recount a family-famous story about him having to rescue me on a snowmobile when I was nine and had gotten myself turned around out in a wooded area that’s since been cleared.

After lunch, Mom stays inside while the rest of us take a walk around the ranch.

We get to the last storage shed, where there’s a picnic table in the shade of one of our few big trees. We all sit and Dad says we need to have a serious talk.

“I’ve been waiting for all of us to be together for this,” he starts. And then he tells us he considered selling the ranch. “Your mother and I have talked about this for more than a year.”

Dale looks at me, and I know what he’s thinking. This conversation has been delayed for so long because of me. Because I haven’t been around. I give him a blank look and turn my attention back to Dad.

“We’re selling the ranch.”

“What?” Dale is shocked.

J.D. looks dumbfounded.

I had no inside information, but I suspected this was what Mom meant on the phone when she told me Dad wanted to talk to all of us. I had ruled out catastrophic news, like one of them was deathly ill or something. If it had been anything along those lines, she would have told me, and I would have come back sooner, no doubt.

“When?” Dale asks again.

“Got a buyer lined up. Should be closing by Thanksgiving.”

Dale stands up and takes a deep breath. “Why are you selling it? Why not let us take over? We could make payments—”

Dad raises a hand and cuts him off. “I don’t want payments. I want a sale, one shot and done.”

Dale looks at me. “This is your fault.”

Dad raises his voice. “It’s no one’s fault. Sit down. Decision’s been made. Your mother always wanted to live on the water, and we’ve decided to buy a place on Grand Lake.”

“Jesus,” Dale says as he sits.

J.D. is still silent.

Grand Lake is the largest natural lake in Colorado. It’s also on the other side of Denver, closer to where my mom grew up and where her sister and her family still live. It makes sense for their retirement, and I’m happy that they’re doing it.

“There’s enough money to have all you boys set for life,” Dad says.

This is when Dale starts to calm down a little. I know he was initially worried about how to afford kids when he and his wife eventually decide to have them, but it’s more than that. He’s just a selfish prick. I don’t know what he has planned for the future and I don’t particularly care.

As for J.D., I know from short talks with mom over the years, and from his own words, that he wants to go back to school. He has his undergrad degree, but has always wanted to get his MBA. I also know that he’d never do it as long as this ranch stayed in the family. In some ways, this is Dad pushing J.D. to chase his dream.

“How much?” Dale asks, and it makes me want to punch him in the mouth.

My Dad just looks at him.

I finally speak, looking directly at Dale. “Whatever Dad had planned, you can have half of my share. J.D. can have the other.”

My dad lowers his head, tips the bill of his cap a little, and scratches his forehead. This is his sign that he’s annoyed. I’ve seen it all my life. “That’s not necessary, Evan.”

“I know it’s not necessary, but I’m set. I don’t need it.”

Dale looks perplexed. I know exactly what he’s thinking. He thinks I’m being condescending, and he wants to say it, he wants to accuse me of thinking I’m better than he is (it wouldn’t be the first time he said it) but he also wants the money. That’s all that’s keeping his mouth shut right now.

Dad shrugs. “You boys can work that out. I’m not getting involved in that.”

Mom comes outside carrying a tray with four glasses on it. “Iced tea for everyone,” she says, placing the tray on the table. “I guess your father has given you the news.” She’s looking at each of our faces.

I give her a smile. “I think it’s great.”

“Me, too,” J.D. adds.

Dale is silent. He’s fuming.

Long before I have to leave for the concert, Dale has gone home to his wife, and it’s only Mom, Dad. J.D., and me, once again sharing fun memories.

J.D. tells me he’s coming to the show tonight and bringing a girl he’s been dating for a few months. “Gotta brag on my rock star brother. Might even help me later on in the evening, if you know what I mean.”

Dad rolls his eyes. Mom is straight-faced. I laugh and say, “No, what do you mean?”

“Enough,” Mom says.

The last thing I do before leaving the ranch is promise my mother I’ll come see their new place at Grand Lake, and it’ll be before Christmas. She mentions bringing Audrey and, without going into the details about Audrey’s family life, I tell her we’ll see.

. . . . .

Once I’m back on the highway, I turn my phone on. Sure enough, there are missed texts and phone calls. Sixteen texts and five calls, to be exact. I scan through them to see if any are from Audrey. No. They’re all from Bruce and the guys in the band, all asking me what time I’ll be there, where I am, and do I need someone to pick me up?

I send a text to Jay letting him know I’m on the way. He texts back a few minutes later, telling me he’ll send out one of the stage hands to let me in the alley door.

My timing is perfect. I had planned to arrive at the venue with just enough time to meet up with the band right before it’s time to take the stage. I didn’t want to have even a spare few minutes in which they could bring up everything that’s been going on. The conversation would be tense and negative, and the last thing I need before playing with them and going onstage for the first time in months.

Parking the rental car next to our band’s equipment van, I get my new guitar out of the trunk and walk toward the door, taking slow, deep breaths, reminding myself that I’ve done this thousands of times and this night is no different.

Of course, I know that’s bullshit. I’m just trying to trick my mind into calming down a little. And it works. Mostly, anyway.

The stage hand opens the door and I step into the hallway—past the craft services table that’s packed with food I’d normally eat if my mom hadn’t stuffed me—then down to the dressing rooms.

Nobody is there. I go into the room marked with my name and stand there for a moment. It’s empty, the lights are off, it feels hollow, and it’s the perfect metaphor for where I’ve been emotionally and logically when it comes to the band.

I get my guitar out of the case, as the stagehand is behind me saying, “They’re about to go on. I’ll walk you over there.”