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I kiss her too long and probably too hard for it to mean anything other than what else I wanna do to her. But when she kisses me back, when she makes those little sounds and scratches at my front like a cat. I know I’ve either signed a death warrant for us both, or I’ve just turned over a new leaf.
And if the feeling I get from kissing her and having her snuggled close is anything to go by. I’m gonna say I’ve turned that leaf permanently.
I was in solitary most of my time inside, on account of me not playing nice with the other inmates. Grown men had a habit of being found in a knot any time there was trouble. Sobbing like children and more often than not with a broken bone or three.
I was labeled aPsycho Truckerlong before they knew I was accused and convicted of kidnapping, murder, and worse. I was a twenty-something trucker, a real greenhorn. Perfect bait for a District Attorney that wanted a scalp. And cannon fodder for the cops who wanted to play hero for catching me.
They forced me to look at crime scene photos, lined me up with guys who looked like accountants, kept me awake for three days straight until I was nodding and mumbling ‘yes’ to anything.
But even once I was inside, the girls kept disappearing and the papers (not that I saw them) spoke about the real nut case still at large.
It wasn’t until the guy handed himself in and showed the feds all the proof they needed that I was set free. But it was what I went inside for, so everybody who could read knew me for it from then on.Psycho TruckerI was branded and it’s what I became.
Angry. Prone to violence. And never knowing when enough is enough.
Not a good look for anyone hiring to have a guy like me wearing your company logo. And the chip on my shoulder only got heavier the more times I got into worse and worse trouble teaching people a lesson when they wanted to get smart with me.
So I took the only work I could get. Hauling logs, then cargo in conditions no one else would be crazy enough to drive in. Finally, it led to having my own rig, with a company I’d never heard of promising to make the repayments on my truck as a bonus if I did a little cross-border trucking and asked no questions.
I was still green. After four years of being locked up and treated like an animal. I still couldn't see what I was being set up for.
The ‘interest’ on those truck repayments were announced not long after I signed the paperwork and before I knew it, I was so far into debt with the wrong kind of businesspeople that the only way out has been to do what I’m told, bide my time and squirrel enough away so I can get out when I have enough money to do it.
But it takes more than money. I’ve needed areasonto get out. The life… shitty as it is, it paysvery welland it’s all I know.
All I knew until tonight that is.
Petra’s my reason now. She's my real way out. She's giving me feelings and thoughts I'd forgotten how to have let alone knew I could and have someone else feel the same way.
So, do I wanna try to begin to explain my past to a girl half my age right after I've kissed her?
And I know, I know… A kiss isn't her leaping into my arms saying she wants to spend the rest of her life with me now, is it?
But tasting her for the first time, shaking like a schoolboy and feeling my chest explode with something I could only describe as sacred… My old life feels like it’s melting away with every second I hold her close, covering her mouth with mine.
The lights must turn green and then red again a dozen times before I feel her needing to come up for air.
Her face flushed and her eyes wide and shining. She blows out a slow breath from puffed cheeks.
“Whoa!” She exclaims in a whisper, making my lip curl as I trace back one of hers with my fingertip. Stroking her soft face as if I’ve only developed the sensation of touch tonight, with her. Because of her and for her.
“I- I’ve never been kissed like that…” She explains, looking down and away.
I know she's never been kissed by anyone. And if she’s not a virgin, I'll eat my hat. Call what you want…Psycho Trucker’s intuition. But I've been around long enough to spot a girl who really is innocent a mile away.
And I’m glad she never has been with anyone. If she's gonna be with someone, namely me from now on. She might as well have someone who knows she's the one. A man who knows he has a lifetime of this feeling ahead of him.
If he doesn’t fuck it up… And that’s if she even wants what I know I do now.
“You’re a good kisser.” I tell her, hoping she’ll get the hint and kiss me again so I know she wants this as much as I do. But the muted sound of a horn blaring from behind the rig tells me it’s time to get moving again.
Putting my rig into gear, I feel her wanting more. Wanting to lean over and kiss me again, but I’m a big, scary-looking trucker and she's really just a little girl. I’m glad to see it is what she wants too though. And easing the eighteen-wheeler to the verge of the highway, we lock eyes and then mouths again instantly.
She’s finding her way easily. Her hands moving over me with the same need mine are gripping her. Making me fight the urge to tear that cute uniform off her and just take her right here.
“P.T…” She wheezes, breathless and shivering with need as she runs the flat of her palm up and down my aching shaft through my jeans.
“I want you Petra… And I will have you,” I hear myself growl, gnawing at her neck and making her moan. My hand sliding up between her legs, her sleek pussy already hot and dripping honey. Before she can say another word, I’ve slipped the end of my thick finger under the seam of her panties, tugging them with a jerk that makes her grunt and buck.
