The Lone Wolf (10)

Cracker's POV

“I’m going to be late for work,” I laughed, kissing Steel one more time before I had to go. Although, I’m pretty sure I said that ten kisses ago too. Monday had finally come around and after a hot weekend of sex, sex, and more sex, my pussy was looking forward to a couple of hours' rest.

“Let me drop you off,” he insisted one more time, pulling me toward him and tried to kill any protests by kissing me as if his life depended on it. He was in the same clothes that he was in Friday evening but like the proper old lady I now apparently was, I’d washed them. He’d been keeping me naked all weekend so it’s not like he needed them either…

“That’s really cute and all,” I replied, groaning when he pulled my lower lip into his mouth and sucked on it. My pussy roared to life and heck--- how horny was I? “But if I show up for work on a motorcycle, my clients will think I’m still in high school!”

Steel huffed an “I don’t care”-groan of his and continued to trail kisses down my neck. His lips still managed to send small sparks of electricity down to my core, reminding me again how absolutely wonderful it had been having his lips on my clit.

And everywhere else!

And yeah, I’d finally figured out what he was doing! Turning my brain to mush so I would comply with his every demand. But this time I didn’t give in. I’d seen through his tricks and---

And I wondered what he was going to do to me, riding on his bike…?

Images of him with his hands down my pants were enough to make me want to moan. But I resisted, shaking them off and taking a step away from him. He growled in protest, but I stood firm. Nope! I wasn’t going to give in.

As if sensing my determination, he sighed and finally gave in.

“When are we doing this again?” he asked, looking up at me. Not much up. He was sitting on his bike, one leg on either side of the huge beast under him as if he was the only man able to tame it. He looked hot as hell with his cut and sunglasses that I hadn’t noticed before.

“I’m usually done at 5,” I replied and while eyeing the man and his beast, an idea popped into my head. “And I haven’t been on your bike yet.”

“I’ll be here at 6,” he promised, a wide grin on his face.

“Done!”

Work was uneventful. Time ticked by slowly as I waited until 4 o’clock to finally come around. I quickly said goodbye to my coworkers, sent a quick text to Grace, and headed to my car. Before going home, I always let Max out to run for an hour. He liked being in the back of the old pickup, but a dog his size needed to run free a couple of hours.

He yelped happily at seeing me, wagging his tail and whipping up a storm behind him.

“Ready to stretch your legs, old boy?” I asked, scratching his ear and handed him some crackers, that were supposed to be good for his fur. He chewed them down in seconds and we got on the road. I’d barely made it a couple of miles out of town when suddenly I noticed blue and red lights flash behind me and a siren blared.

Frowning, I pulled over.

“Is it illegal to drive slower than 40 miles per hour?” I grumbled while struggling with the old manual roller to get the window down. Max let out a yelp as if agreeing. My heater was broken so I couldn’t drive very fast. Sure, it annoyed some of the other pedestrians, but out here, there wasn’t a car in sight.

Fairfax was one of those small towns, with a really small town but a huge zip code. Houses were scattered all over the place, making my closest neighbor the old man living two miles down the road. Surrounded by mountains and forest, it sometimes reminded me a little of the town in the Twilight movie.

Or you know--- just any horror movie!

I almost grinned at that, since that used to be Grace’s go-to line. She had a thing for horror-flicks, but was terrified after watching them…

Huffing I finally got the window down and looked up at a 40-something-year-old officer. His shirt and khakis were getting a little too small to accommodate his growing midsection, and his thick black mustache made him look absolutely ridiculous!

“Is there a problem, officer?” I asked, trying to be nice and polite because--- you know! Decency…

“Did you know who fast you were going?” he asked, in that arrogant, uptight voice that cops always used. I hated it, but gritted my teeth and focused on the question.

“Yes,” I replied confidently, liking the surprised look on his face. “Do you know who old this car is? If I push her any more than 30 miles per hour she falls apart.”

He had that ‘fuck!’-look on his face, as he quickly scanned the car. It was rusted, paint coming off in places, and made mysterious noises just to keep things interesting. But to my surprise, he cleared his throat like not noticing and continued.

“You were doing over 70 miles per hour in a 50 zone,” he said, totally serious! I narrowed my eyes at him. Was this guy for real?!

“May I see your driver's license and registration?” he continued, handing his hand out for me.

I hated him!

“That’s bullshit!” I mumbled, but gave him what he asked for, not wanting to cause a scene – just yet!

“This is a New York driver's license,” he asked and his whiny voice cut the last of my nerves! “Do you have any Arkansas ID?”

Fuck this!

“I got this,” I told him, showing him my middle finger. He frowned and took a step back--- and even had the balls to reach for his gun.

“Ma’am, I need you to step out of the car, please,” he threatened, and smirked as if daring me not to comply. And oh hell, this guy was practically begging for what’s coming next…