Page 9 of A Quick Pit Stop

“That’s a sentence I never thought I’d hear.”

He grins. “Not the most romantic of settings, I’ll give you that. But I felt it, okay? There was a... connection. I know that sounds cheesy as fuck. But it’s true.”

I don’t know what to say to that. A connection? At a urinal? But he’s not totally wrong. There was something. Something that made me stay when every instinct told me to go.

“Too much? You can tell me to shut up.”

I look at him. Those pale eyes, steady on the road, framed by dark lashes. The way the sunlight catches the scruff on his jaw. “Nah. Keep talking.”

Ryan’s eyes leave the road long enough to travel over me. Slow. From my face down to my chest, my lap, then back up. It’s a look I’ve seen before, from women in bars, across dinner tables. But coming from a man, it hits different. There’s no coyness to it, no subtlety.

“You sure about that?” he says. “Because once I start, I tend to go places that make straight guys uncomfortable.”

“I let you blow me in a public bathroom. Pretty sure my comfort zone is in the rearview mirror at this point.” The words come out gruff, but it’s the truth.

“Fair enough.” He changes lanes, one hand easy on the wheel, and I notice he drives the way he does everything else. Confident. No wasted movement. “So what do you wanna know?” he continues. “Because I’ll tell you everything. What goes through my head every time I look at you. What I’d do to you if you gave me one night. Every dirty detail. Just say the word.”

A hot flush creeps up my neck. He’s so fucking blunt. It’s disarming. I look away, out the window, at a lone silo standing in a field of dead grass. I know this is a bad idea, letting him put these images in my head. But I’m tired of being sensible. Tired ofbeing the guy who does the right thing, the expected thing, and ends up with nothing.

So I take the bait. “Alright, Ryan. Tell me. What would you do to me right now if I let you?”

His knuckles go white on the steering wheel for a second. “Okay. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I’m a big boy. I can handle it.”

“Right now?” He glances at me. “I’m thinking about pulling this truck over and climbing into your lap. Feeling that big dick of yours get hard again through your jeans. I’d rip that shirt off you and drag my tongue across your chest. Your armpits, God, your armpits, I’d lick the sweat right out of ‘em. And those nipples, they’re hard right now, aren’t they? I can see ‘em through your shirt. I want to bite them. Softly at first. Just enough to make you gasp. Then harder, until you grab my hair and pull me off. Then I’d want you to fuck me, Dominic. Right here in the cab of my truck. I’d ride you so hard the whole thing would be rocking. And I’d be looking at you the whole time, watching your face as you lose control. Just like you did in the bathroom.”

The cab feels ten degrees hotter. The AC blasting in my face does nothing. I can picture it. Too easily. His weight grinding down on me, the scratch of his stubble on my skin, his ass tight around my cock.

“You could do anything you wanted to me, Dominic,” he continues, his voice dropping to something barely above a whisper. “Anything.You could pull this truck over right now, drag me out by my hair, and bend me over the hood on the side of the highway. Fuck me raw while the semis blow past us. I’d beg you for it. You could choke me. Spit in my face. Call me a filthy cockslut while you’re pumping your load into me. I’d take it all. And I’d thank you for it.”

“Jesus.” I adjust in my seat. I’m hard again. Painfully so. This is insane. Why do I want him to keep talking? Why isn’t this making me sick to my stomach? It should. I should be horrified. But I’m not. Every word out of his mouth is feeding something in me I didn’t know was starving.

“See?” he says, a little smugly. “Told you I’d make you uncomfortable.”

I’m not uncomfortable. That’s the problem.

“Is that what you like?” I keep my voice neutral, not showing how much he’s getting to me. “Being treated like shit?”

“It’s not being treated like shit if you’re begging for it.” He shrugs. “Some guys like to be in control. And some guys like to give it up. All of it. To someone who can handle them. I like handing the reins over. Only to the right person, though. You might think I do this all the time, but I don’t. I have to trust someone before I let them that far in.”

“And you trust me?”

He looks over at me. “Shouldn’t I?”

“You don’t even know me.”

“I trust my instincts,” he says. “And my instincts are screaming that you’re a good guy who got screwed over. That you’ve got a lot of fire in you, but you’ve been told to play nice your whole fucking life. Am I close?”

I don’t answer. He’s too perceptive. He sees too much. He’s stripping me bare with just words, and I’m not sure I like it. But I also can’t deny that he’s right. I was so careful with Megan, so gentle. So... considerate. And where did that get me? Cuckolded by a bendy yogi.

“Get off at the next exit,” I say.

Ryan’s head snaps toward me. “But we’re not?—”

“Get off at the next exit, Ryan.”

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