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April swallowed and gazed up at his torso. She locked her eyes on him, and opened her legs from her cross legged stance. She scooted to the end of the van, hanging her legs over the edge of the drop down. She reached out and put a hand on his hip bone, underneath a thick rope of his muscle. His body was warm, her hand felt cold. She pulled him in between her legs. He resisted at first. She planted her other hand firmly on his other hip and pulled. He let himself move forward so that he was standing inside her legs. She moved her palms to the front of his stomach. His muscles rippled briefly. She dared a look up to his face. He had the cigarette in between his teeth, his lips bared, his head nodded forward, hanging off her every move. He was staring at her hands on his stomach. She licked her lips, leaned forward and pressed them against the muscles. Beside his belly button. Over wispy dark hair that grew downwards leading her lower. Urging her lower.
“Fuck, April,” he whispered.
She bit him lightly, bit the small amount of soft flesh on top of his muscle, gathered it between her front teeth and tugged slightly. It would be oh so easy to let her continue. Why was he pulling back?
“No, April.” He grunted. His head tipped back and she reached for the low slung waistband of his jeans. He clamped his hand on hers, stopping her. “I hate that you make me want you like this...” he whispered.
“Like what?” Her hands pressed the bulge at her eye level.
“Like this… roughly, furiously, desperately… I don’t want to lose control again…” He breathed.
“But I want you like this,” April countered quickly. She looked up at him, pleading with her eyes. She told him she didn’t beg, but here she was, begging him.
“You deserve silk sheets and champagne...”
“I don’t want that... I want you... take me, Colt, roughly, furiously, desperately…” she whispered into his skin. “I felt it, too, you know, when we were together. I feel that power, that rawness… the darkness. Like something biblical, something God forgot to do anything with in the book of Genesis, when you moved in me…” She breathed and he could have sworn his soul sighed along with her.
Well fuck. He clasped the cigarette in between his teeth and blew a plume of smoke away from her. Looking down at her, he put one hand on her face, his fingers holding her chin. Then he moved his hand so his fingers tangled in her hair. He fisted his hand, pulling her hair. It was no longer in a neat ponytail. One of her hands trailed up his torso, to his nipple with the bar through it. She pulled it lightly, watching his reaction. He rolled his eyes with pleasure.
“Yes, April,” he found himself gasping. Her name over his lips felt like a prayer to all that was good in the world. A little smile of her own played on her face. Lips that were caressing his skin. He tossed the half smoked cigarette away without a second thought. He thrust his other hand into her hair, bumping her face against him. Her nimble fingers were undoing the button of his jeans; ripping the zipper open and tugging them down. He felt her breath, hot little pants on his lower stomach. Her hunger was powerful, shocking to him. He fucking loved that she wanted him that much… it undid him. Completely undid him.
He shivered in anticipation, barely controlling the desire coursing through him. She clamped her mouth down on his steel hard cock through his briefs. He cried out loud. Her hot, wet mouth was almost too much. Almost. He started moving his hips, thrusting his cock into her face, hard. He felt like a dog in heat. An animal. A savage bastard. The devil himself, climbing out of hell to chase after what he wanted. Again.
“April, no,” he said again, shaking his head, yet unable to stop. “You don’t deserve this...”
Her hands were pulling at the elastic of his briefs, trying to pull them down.
He was close to losing his load. Coming too soon. Again. Taking what he didn’t deserve.
“Trust me, Colt,” she whispered. His eyes slammed into the back of his skull.
“It’s not a question of trust, Kitten, I-”
“It is.”
“Fuck, April.” He squeezed his eyes shut. For a split second he imagined what it would feel like to have her lips close around his throbbing hard cock. Bare skin, not just on top of his briefs. Wet heat. Slipping inch by inch. Watching her lips stretch around his cock. Her cheeks hollow, pulling him in further. Then to hit the back of her tight throat. To look down and see her eyes water slightly from the effort. Her mouth engulfing him.
He pulled his hands off her head, grabbing hers at his waist. He restrained her.
“Colt, no, let me,” she pleaded, her voice pinched with frustration.
“April, April...” He was practically chanting her name. His eyes were shut, he was straining to keep her fingers off him, straining to keep himself from falling off the edge.
“Colt...” She was saying his name now, too. His ears rang from his pounding heart. Wait, was she saying something else?
“Bikes, Colt, is that the sound of…?”
His eyes snapped open. “... Straight pipes,” he finished her sentence. His body slammed into sobriety like a concrete wall. He took a breath. Back in control. Back inside himself, off that edge.
“Get in, let’s go,” he husked out. He pulled himself away from her, from what they’d done, and what they had almost done. That moment was gone. He reacted on auto pilot. Fight or flight. Flight mode. Get the hell away. He yanked up his jeans, as April scrambled up.
The rumble of motorcycles could be heard far off. Time to run. He jumped into the cab of the van, pleased to find April in the passenger seat, slamming her door.
“Drive fast and hard, Colt,” she said.
So he did.
Colt drove hard and fast for days. They went north into Washington, then looped back down again, through Idaho. Then Utah, Nevada. Colt didn’t want to get stuck up against the coast or the Canadian border. He said he didn’t want them to think they were just headed due north. Or straight east. So they snaked about through the states. April said saw more of the US than she’d ever seen before.
