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I lean back again, frowning as the ice cream sundae begins to melt. Where is she?
Granted, inviting Janie to come on the road with me for six weeks was an impulsive, spur of the moment decision on my part. I’ve never invited someone, much less a woman, to travel with me before because it honestly sounded like hell. Trapped in a truck with another person 24/7? Sharing the air we breathe, not to mention the same food, sleeping space, and radio stations? I wouldn’t want to be in that situation with even a supermodel because I’m a man who values his solitude, so I generally go solo.
But Janie? I feel like I could spend every second of every day with her for the rest of my life. Even if we were trapped in a dark storage closet together, I think we’d still get along just fine. She’s so easy to talk to, and a feisty little thing too, which I like. She keeps me on my toes with her sarcasm, not to mention that rapier-sharp wit. Plus, Janie can make any conversation interesting. Even if we were talking about rocks and dirt, I think I’d still enjoy it as long as I was discussing it with her.
Plus, I can’t keep my hands off her, so her warnings to leave her alone in the shower were warranted. After all, the truck cab behind the driver’s seat basically becomes a tiny apartment at night. There’s a television, an entertainment system, a fridge, and even a small stove. But most importantly, there’s a full-size bed back there, and Janie and I have been wearing it out every night with our calisthenics.
After all, the beautiful woman drives me crazy. She has the most gorgeous curves in all the right places, and I just can’t keep my hands off of her. I love squeezing her huge tits and playing with her swollen little nipples until she starts squirming and begging me to do something else because they’re getting too sensitive. I love flipping her over and holding onto her narrow waist while I fuck that heart-shaped behind until she’s full of my come. And she takes both ways too. She’s always overflowing with my seed these days, and I love knowing that I’ve marked her.
In short, Janie makes for a great companion and basically satisfies all my needs. She even cooks on our little stove sometimes, whipping up a pot roast, which I thought was impossible given our limited resources. But the girl’s got magic in her hands, and the more time I spend with her, the more I hate to think about this little trip of ours ending.
But where is she? I look at the clock on my phone and let out a confused grunt. It’s been nearly forty minutes and Janie still hasn’t arrived. I don’t mind waiting but this is getting ridiculous. Maybe she’s doing skincare or washing her hair thoroughly? After all, this truck stop is a lot nicer than the others that we’ve been to so maybe the facilities are amazing.
As I poke at my burger, I frown because yeah, it’s definitely gotten cold. The ice cream is melting too. Dang. Well, we can always get a new one.
I wait another ten minutes, staring at the door as if I’m waiting for it to swing open. When the ten minutes pass and she hasn’t shown up yet, I swallow thickly, rubbing my palms together as I look around. Unease rises in my throat and I swallow again. This is weird, and it isn’t like Janie at all. I hope I’m just overthinking it or being paranoid or too overprotective, but I don’t know.
Something feels off, and I need to figure it out. Quickly, I get up and stroll for the glass doors, intent on tracking Janie down. I’m sure it’s nothing and she’s just blow-drying her hair, but what if something did happen? I’d never forgive myself because this woman’s the one I adore, and I can’t let her go now.
8
Janie
The hot water beating on my skin makes me moan with bliss. Brand and I shower regularly, of course, because there are plenty of truck stops along the highway. But this particular facility is especially nice, and newly renovated too from the looks of it. The walls are a sparkling white tile, and they have fancy rainfall spouts, which means that the water flows from above, like I’m standing in a waterfall. Plus, the lockers all work, which I’m grateful for.
Not that I’m worried anyone’s going to steal anything because there aren’t many female truckers, so I’m often alone in these spaces. Plus, now that I’ve gotten more comfortable with showering in a semi-public place, I’ve come to look forward to my daily ablutions. There’s nothing better than standing under a hot flow of water after a long day of sitting in the truck. I also have some fancy new soap that’s grapefruit scented and foamy, coating my skin with its fruitiness. Thank goodness for the small delights in life.
