Skin on Skin (13 page)

He really was impossibly tall. I noticed this again when he returned with a beer, held haphazardly at the level of his crotch, where my eyes didn’t have to fall far to conduct their quick reconnaissance mission. Any movement was well cloaked by his stiff jeans.

“Here. It’s from my personal stash in the fridge.” He told me he was good friends with the hosts of the party. Did I know them?

“No, I don’t really know anyone here. Or in this entire city, for that matter. Except for my cousin, of course.” I didn’t mention Nacho. Just then, I realized Verónica had disappeared. So had the icy-eyed boy who had been standing there.

“How do you know my cousin, anyway?”

“Oh, from around, I guess.” I raised an eyebrow warily; it was perfectly arched with the cold precision of a pair of tweezers.

“I work down at that bar Tito’s every Sunday afternoon. You’ve probably been there with Verónica. She’s a pretty loyal patron.”

“
You do?
I do—I mean, I have…been there.” All of a sudden, I was flustered. I had been drinking too fast and those mixed drinks back at the apartment were catching up with me. So was the realization that I was actually talking to the boy with the ’51 Chevy. I began to swoon.

“Um, I’m sorry. I think I need to get some air.”

Before I knew it, I was pushing my way through the teeming party, like a fish swimming upstream, gasping both air and water in its disorientation. If only I could find a way out of this pool of people before I drowned in intoxication, theirs and mine.

A heavy hand, almost pawlike in its weight upon my shoulder, tunneled me through the crowd and out the front door. It guided me down the front steps of the old Victorian house whose green shingles shuttered out any testimony of the rollicking party inside. Neil sat me down on one of the lower steps. He sat one step further down so that we were at the same level.

“Thanks,” I murmured, somewhat embarrassed, now that the cool air, carrying the faint scent of ocean, sobered me up a bit.

“Hey, no problem.” He touched my chin gently so that I would look at him. His lashes were thick with understanding.

“I’m kind of embarrassed. Sorry.” As I looked down, his hand dropped from my chin and rested on my bare knee. I wasn’t wearing any tights. A thick heat spread up and down my leg. I hoped I wouldn’t have to stand up anytime soon because my leg had melted.

“It’s okay. Really. Remember, I’m a bartender.”
And I’m just a dumb, drunk girl who needs to be babysat.

His hand moved back to my face to wipe away the mascara sweating underneath my eyes. His thumb was slightly clumsy. This time he held my gaze.

Was he going to kiss me? His lips looked absolutely deviant…yet sweet, like those of a naughty little boy. Lips I would never want to wean from my own.

“I should get you home.” It wasn’t a kiss, but a ride home was second-best.

“That would be great. Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“Of course not, doll.” He really was straight out of the ’50s. Especially with that strong Marlon Brando nose of his.

“My truck’s just around the corner.”

This was an occasion I could rise to. I stood up. Verónica’s tight red dress had shimmied up my thigh. As I tugged it down, I caught him looking. His blazing eyes burned me like the sun. We had to get to that fire-engine-red truck of his, fast.

We didn’t talk much during the drive to my apartment. The truck’s rumbling comfortably filled the silence. I liked watching Neil drive, the way he gave the road his full attention. He looked at ease behind the wheel, but I noticed the subtle tensing of his muscles as he took a turn. It was as if his brawn, and not the truck’s engine, was powering the machine. I wondered what it would be like to be the object of such intense concentration, to be on the receiving end of those tight flexes of sinew. As if in reflex to my thoughts, I felt the muscles between my legs contract, drawing up and in as if receiving a member of his flesh. I crossed my legs, pressing my inner thighs closely together, to sustain the pleasure.

Neil sensed my shifting on the cushioned lap of the truck’s front seat. He reached toward my knee, but it was the stereo he was aiming for. He switched it on and turned the volume low. A hillbilly singer was squawking like a chicken.

“How long are you in town for?” He was still staring straight ahead, even though we were stopped at a red light. Had I imagined his interest in the onslaught of eye contact back at the party? He sat slightly slouched behind the wheel with the impassive expression of a chauffeur.

“I’m here for the summer. I start a teaching job in the fall, back in Tucson.”

Relief cracked his stony countenance.

“I thought you were just visiting for the weekend or something.” His eyes lighted back on me, searing my previous doubt.

“So you’re a teacher?” His interest seemed genuine. For some reason, it made me blush.

A car honked behind us. The light had turned green. Once again the road commanded his gaze.

“Well, not yet. I just got my teaching degree. I only graduated a month ago.”

He nodded, and his hand tapped the seamless leather between us as if in reverie. I had the urge to slide across the smooth upholstery and tuck myself under his strong arm, have it drape over me securely like a seat belt.

“You know, I’ve always thought about being a teacher.”

“
Really
?” I tried not to sound incredulous, but I just couldn’t picture Neil, with all his tattoos and grease, reading a story-book to a classroom of third-graders.

“Yeah,
really
. I like reading and talking about books.” He smirked at me in that sexy, cocky way of his. I had to admit, there were some things he could teach me….

“What’s your favorite book?” I challenged. His eyes narrowed as he took a sharp turn, and if I hadn’t been wearing a seat belt, I would have been thrown into his lap.

“Lolita.” He said it slowly with pointed deliberation, his smirk drawing out into a mischievous grin. He reached over and yanked a tendril of my loose hair.

“Ouch!” It didn’t hurt, but rather inflamed me with an icy heat. There were a few things this Lolita could teach those cruel lips of his.

“Isn’t this your street?” I hated him for changing the subject after he had charged me up so, but he was right. We were on my block.

“Yup. I’m up there on the right where that guy in the white T-shirt is standing.”

The truck slowed and quieted to a low but anxious drone. My body was buzzing like a bee. He turned to me, the sexual tension between us thick like honey.

“Thanks for the ride.” My seat belt was off, and I was free to go. Instead, I leaned toward him like a sapling braving the wind.

“Anytime, Lola.” His arms reached for me like the thick branches of a tree. He uprooted me and pulled me toward that solid trunk of his body.

“Lolita,” he exhaled into the single breath of air that was the only thing that separated us. I sucked in the tiny particles of moisture that lingered to the dissipating word. His hands on my shoulders squeezed past flesh, past nerve, to bare bone. I trembled for the inevitable crush of his lips to completely break me.

Instead, I screamed.

Something had smacked, hard, against the passenger-side window. I turned to a flurry of white that repeatedly crashed against the resilient glass like a moth mistaking a lightbulb for the moon. Before I could stop him, Neil had leapt out of the truck, yelling,
Whatthefuck?
I recognized the psychopath in the white T-shirt slamming his body against my door.

It was Nacho.

N
eil had Nacho by the back of his neck and slammed him facedown onto the hood. Although both men were pretty built, Neil was twice Nacho’s size. Nacho flailed foolishly under Neil’s steady grip. Neil’s face was masked with the stoic reserve he used while driving, even as dark blood spilled onto the shiny, candy-apple red hood of his truck. Nacho was able to lift up his bloody face up just enough to spit my name at the wind-shield, which protected me from the blows and blood and turned me into a spectator of this masculine sport.

“Lola, you
puta
!” His eyes were rimmed red, and the boy was obviously high. I hoped Neil didn’t understand the Spanish slur, but he definitely seemed to understand the tone that defiled the name he so cherished. For that, he pummeled Nacho’s shaved head back into the hood. Neil’s eyes flashed at me with the recognition of what this fight was about. A split second later, Nacho threw Neil back.

They momentarily faced each other in the pool of headlights and then violently embraced like wrestlers, twisting and contorting for leverage. Neil broke them apart with a tight upper-cut to Nacho’s chin. In a last-ditch effort not to fall, Nacho grabbed on to Neil’s shirt. The thin cotton of the black tee, threadbare in some areas, tore easily. Neil’s barrel chest widened the gash of material. I gasped. The sight of his broad chest heaving aggressively was the manliest thing I had ever seen. Although his chest wasn’t as tattooed as Nacho’s, Neil was well armored with a tough-looking tat of a dagger over his heart. It had the jagged line of a jailor’s, or sailor’s, amateur hand. And it was large. A throbbing quickened between my thighs at the sight of its sharp tip, and I imagined it coolly pressed against my own breast. I sunk back into the seat and parted my legs. My hand snuck into a cauldron of heat. I gingerly stroked my damp panties, and watched Neil grab Nacho’s shirt and rip it down the middle in divine retribution. They bared their chests and then literally smacked together, hard flesh against hard flesh. My hand dove underneath my panties. My finger jabbed at my clit but kept slipping from all the wetness that had pooled between my swollen folds. The boys were on the ground now: first Nacho on top, then Neil with his long body all stretched out and tense, grinding Nacho into the pavement. I had to lift up to see them now, and I propelled my finger inside my pussy to prop myself up. As Neil delivered tight punches with his massive right arm to Nacho’s tiring body, I pumped my finger wildly inside and then added another for girth. With each blow that landed, I hit my G-spot with violent pleasure.

Suddenly, the blows ceased. Nacho was moaning on the ground, bloody from his nose to his chest. He rolled to his side in fetal position. Neil had eased off him and rose from the asphalt. Reluctantly, I slid my hand out from between my legs as Neil staggered back to the truck. I tugged down my dress—hoping the moisture between my legs wouldn’t seep down past the hem and give me away—just as he heaved himself into the driver’s seat.

“Shit, Neil, are you okay?!?” Blood stained his cheek like rouge, and he was breathing hard. He gripped onto the steering wheel, his knuckles dripping with blood.

“I think I cracked a rib.” I could tell it hurt him to breathe, and he inhaled sharply with a grimace. There was a musty towel on the floor of the truck, and I hastily picked it up. Sidling up next to him, I gently blotted his knuckles until they were bone white. The blood wasn’t his.

“I’m so sorry about
him
.” I gestured to the body writhing in pain on the ground. I didn’t know what else to say, and Neil just sat there brooding silently. Tentatively, I moved closer to wipe his cheek. There was a slight gash on his pronounced cheekbone, like a nick in sculpted marble. He winced from my breath on the broken skin.

“Sorry, does that hurt?”

“No, it’s fine.” His voice was brusque, but he let me press the towel against his cheek to stop the bleeding. I placed my other hand soothingly on his shoulder and began to gently knead the tight weaving of muscles. His breathing calmed and his eyes closed, doubling the thickness of his luscious lashes.

By instinct, I glanced down to his lap. The sight of a sizable bulge widened my eyes. I caught my breath and cautiously slid my hand between the open flaps of his ripped shirt. He breathed in deeply as my hand traveled down the dense plane of his torso. Solid muscle and bone indistinguishable, my fingers caravanned over ridges of both.

“This won’t hurt a bit,” I promised low into his ear and ripped open the rest of his shirt down to his belt buckle. He moaned, his eyes still closed, and I continued to play nurse.

“I just need to check one thing here. Make sure everything’s in working order.” He bit his lip and nodded bravely, my patient with the rocking hard-on. The dark hairs of his navel were slightly matted with perspiration, and the muscles of his lower abdomen contracted with pleasure under my touch. I was a hair away from examining that protruding organ of his when Nacho again ruined the moment.

“Shit, here he comes again!” Sure enough Nacho had risen from the dead and was stumbling toward us like a zombie. Neil was quick to react. He turned on the engine and threw the truck into reverse. Like a wounded beast, Nacho charged the truck, bellowing at the top of his lungs. As Neil made a sharp U-turn, almost sideswiping Nacho, I caught wind of Nacho’s threats:
My boys are going to fuck you up, man! You better watch your back!

As we safely sped away in the red Chevy, the white of Nacho’s mangled shirt became the size of a louse egg in the rearview mirror. I wasn’t sure where we were going, but Neil was sure driving there like a bat out of hell. But I didn’t care if we were on the fast track to Nowhere because Neil finally had his strong arm around me and was squeezing me close.

“I
don’t think you should go back to your apartment for a while.” Neil had finally pulled over into the abandoned lot of a decrepit, drive-in movie theater. The giant screen was torn and flapping in the wind. It reminded me of Nacho’s T-shirt.

We were somewhere just south of San Francisco.

“This place is awesome, Neil. How’d you find it?” A half moon spilled its ghostly light onto silver tufts of grass and patches of gravel. The lot was like a cemetery to a bygone era.

“Let’s just say it’s my secret hideout. And now that I’ve shown it to you, you can never leave.” His eyes glimmered, his teeth gleamed, and his hair glistened. I felt like I was seeing stars.

“Hey, Neil. I’m really sorry about that guy. I mean, I only hung out with him a couple times, and I thought he would’ve got the message when I didn’t return his phone calls….”

“Shush. I don’t care.” He took my face between his hands, pressing his broad fingertips into the slender bones of my cheeks and jaw. His lips looked just ripe for kissing. “I’m just glad you didn’t go home alone to that creep waiting outside your place.”

“Really, thanks for—” His mouth crushed the words back down my throat. His tongue was thick and skillful. So were his hands. They easily slipped up my dress and underneath my panties. He ran his fingers lightly between the swollen lips of my damp mound.

“Have you been like this the whole time?” He had stopped kissing me to withdraw his hand and admire the gleam from my pussy in the moonlight.

I nodded hungrily, eager for his hand to return to its proper resting place. Neil glanced around the deserted lot of the drive-in, which was shrouded from the road by trees. Effortlessly, he lifted me against the dashboard.

“Show me how you do it,” he ordered, gesturing to my parted legs. The gruff tone of his command couldn’t get me to pull down my panties fast enough. I tossed them around the rearview mirror for luck.

Balanced precariously with my bare ass against the dash, I spread my legs as wide as my dress permitted. Neil peered into my pussy as if it were a well, his eyes dipping thirstily into its depths.

I leaned forward to run my hand through his greased hair and rocked back so he could watch me rub my clit with the pomade’s residue. Without taking his eyes off my prize, he stripped off what was left of his shirt and folded his arms behind his head. His arm muscles bulged, straining the ink of his tattoos, making me so hot that I plunged one of my fingers into my pearly pink as the other continued to finger my clit. I was dying for him to touch me—somewhere, anywhere—but he just sat back and watched the show, his dark eyes glinting in amusement. It was infuriating how worked up he was making me. My wetness was spreading down my inner thighs, well within his reach, but his beefy arms just rested lazily behind his head, refusing to take over my hand’s licentious labor.

Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore and pounced. But he was quicker. He rolled me beneath him, holding me lengthwise onto the seat in his powerful grasp. With his body stretched out on top of me, I experienced the raw weight that Nacho had struggled so futilely against. No one, I was sure, could beat Neil in a fight. Lucky for me, he was working me over with his mouth instead of his fists.

Our kisses were wet and messy and often missed their mark in the frenzy of open passion. In one swift motion, Neil pulled down the tight bodice of my dress and squeezed my full breasts, luminous in the pale light of the night, while his tongue flicked at my hard nipples with a reptilian furor.

“Fucking gorgeous,” he murmured into my open mouth as I swallowed his words along with his firm, delicious tongue. My eyes rolled back in pleasure to the torn ceiling of the truck.
This was really happening.

He peeled off the rest of my dress. His large hands tightly hugged my sides like a second pair of ribs as he stared in wonderment at my naked body. I had never wanted a man to look at me so starkly, to reveal everything to him through my own nudity. His volcanic eyes smoldered as they took in all of me.

“
Fuck
, Neil, I need you to touch me.” He pressed the broad heel of his hand against my pussy, but he didn’t finger me. Instead, the weight of his unforgiving palm sunk into my clit, pinning me down to the seat of the truck by the core of my body. The more I writhed against his hand, struggling for release, the more he increased the pressure, until shock waves of pleasure coursed up and down my inner thighs.

I counterattacked, aggressive with desire, and cupped the bulge in his jeans with a steadfast grab. Quickly, I unzipped his pants. He wasn’t wearing any underwear, and his cock sprung eagerly into my hands.

The hot-rod truck was no phallic substitute for this bad boy.

Neil groaned as I worked his throttle with long strokes. In a joint effort, we shucked off his jeans without throwing off my grip on his massive hard-on. Skillfully, I pulled up on his cock, manipulating the smooth skin over the ridge of his head. His cock was absolutely peachy, both in color and in its soft but firm texture. Neil’s clumsy fingers—his pleasure inhibited his motor skills—tried to find my slick opening, but I refused them entry by coyly clamping my thighs shut. I only wanted his cock in there. This, I let him know.

“Do you have a condom?”

“Are you sure?” His eyes were gentle and searching.

“Unless, you don’t want to….” Maybe he didn’t. That would be a first.

“No, of course, I do,” he smiled a bit bashfully. “I’ve wanted you since I first saw you outside Tito’s.”

My body tingled hotly with a thousand pinpricks.

“You remembered that?” I whispered in disbelief.

He nodded.

“Yeah, and I wanted to talk to you so badly when I saw you outside the garage, but you ran away before I had the chance.”

I felt a wave of heat wash over me, knocking me senseless. Desire clung to us like humidity, and I felt as though I would suffocate if we didn’t consummate it.

“Get a condom.” My voice was shaky but determined. Neil sprung into action, plunging his arm deep into the glove department. I heard the clanking of tools (a tire iron, perhaps?) as he rummaged around until he found a condom.

I insisted on gloving his cock, eager to run my hands down its length again as I rolled on the snug latex. As soon as I did, Neil grabbed me by the waist and pushed me up hard against the steering wheel so that I faced him.

“I want you this way, so I can watch your expression as I drive into you.”

“Fuck me however you want, as long as you fuck me,” I panted, locking my arms behind and around the steering wheel. I barely had time to brace myself before his cock hit my bull’s-eye dead-on. With the first powerful thrust, I fell into him, but he just propped me back up against the wheel, his arm fully extended between my breasts.

“I need to see you,” he repeated sternly and pumped his piston back into me. My throat opened up with a guttural noise that rose from a place deep within me that only Neil’s cock could reach. I let go of everything, inside and out, including the steering wheel, and let him bang into me, his full force the only thing holding me up. My spine kept hitting the flat circle of the horn, and short blasts spurted into the still lot.

Neil’s hands flew to my hip bones, anchoring my moist center as he eased me down into his gyrating lap. I began to buck wildly now, his cock hitting my G-spot with unnerving precision, and I shuttered in climax. Neil let out a low, long growl, forewarning his own orgasm. I brought my mouth close to his snarling lips and grabbed the back of his neck, my fingers grasping impossibly thick, black hair. My pussy tensed around his stiff cock in an almost painful moment of anticipation. Then, as Neil roared with his own release, the flash flood of my own orgasm broke through.

“Jesus, now I really can’t let you go back to your apartment.” I was sitting on Neil’s lap, naked, staring at the moon that was definitely half-f and not half-empty. His burly arms were wrapped around me and provided all the warmth and comfort I needed in the silent world in front of us.

“Why not?” I shifted on his lap, making his sleepy cock twitch in arousal. Neil bit playfully into the tendons of my neck and then rubbed his nose against the fading teeth marks.

“Because, Lolita.” I smiled at his lascivious nickname for me. “You are just as amazing as I had fantasized.”

“Excuse me?” I spun around in his lap so I was facing him, or more like straddling him. His hand immediately stroked the tended patch of curls between my legs and found the slippery moisture that still clung between my nether lips. He petted me gently, soothing away any soreness from our rough ride.

“You were my mystery girl. I even told a couple of my friends about you, this beautiful woman who appeared mysteriously before my bar and then again at my garage.”

“And you fantasized about me?” My voice grew husky.

“Yeah,” he admitted sheepishly, suddenly shy of the subject. I reached between his legs and tenderly stroked his balls. I liked the tight little sac, almost silky to the touch.

“Was this a part of your fantasy?”

“Um, not exactly, but I think I’m going to work it in next time.” He rested his head back and his lips parted slightly. I leaned forward to take his pillowy lower lip between my own and sucked on it softly as I cupped the twin orbs of his scrotum, juggling them in my palm like a sack of marbles.

“So you thought about me when you jerked off?”
My favorite form of flattery.

He bit that delectable lower lip of his as he nodded.

“And what were you doing to me, perve?” His chest heaved, the tattooed dagger expanding to swordlike dimensions. I ran my finger down the hard crevice between his pecs.

“Well, first, I pushed you up against the hood of my truck when I discovered you in front of my garage. Then, I pulled down the gate so that only the really curious who heard your moans would peep through the strip of grating.” His cock started to stir in his lap, and I urged it into lengthening with the gentle pull of my hand.

“Then, I yanked down your jeans and slid your bare ass up the hood, spreading your legs so that your pussy opened up like a goddamn flower.”

“Then what?” My voice was barely audible, constricted by desire.

“Next, I ran my tongue from your clit to your tight little asshole and back to your clit again and just teased that sweet pussy of yours until it was sopping.” This was no fantasy; my pussy was so wet that not even that thick tongue of his could soak it up. I began to smear myself against his hard thigh, letting him know how much I liked this dirty talk.

“Then what?”

“And then, after you begged for it good ’n plenty, I flipped you over and took you from behind. Not slow, but hard and fast. Rammed into you again and again so that my balls slapped up against you.”

“Would you stick a finger in my ass?” I whimpered, running his shaft between my slippery labia so that the head repeatedly knocked my clit.

His eyes lighted on me. Suddenly, he grabbed me and tossed me over his shoulder. My bare ass to the moon, Neil carried me out of the truck as I shrieked and kicked in delight.

“You up for more?” Neil asked as he laid me on the hood.

“Only if you are, sailor.” But I knew he was. The blind head of his hard-on was pushing into my belly button.

“Scoot your ass further up.” His wish was my command. The smooth curve of metal cushioned my lower back. When he eased my legs over his shoulders, I couldn’t think of a better position in which to get head.

Neil leaned down to take a long sip from my pussy, and his eyes peeked over the horizon of my curly mound. They looked at me so clearly. We watched each other as his tongue seductively circled my clit. As he began to suck on my little bud of flesh, tugging it rhythmically with the vacuum created between his sunken cheeks, I dropped my head back on the hood. Like grains of salt diluted in a vast, black sea, there were only a handful of stars in the sky. My vision began to blur as the tugging increased between my legs, and the stars above shimmered as if under water. Neil used his thumbs to further part my labia, and he massaged each fleshy lip as he opened me up most intimately. He examined me thoroughly with his inquisitive eyes and fingers and tongue. There was no part of my pussy he didn’t carefully attend.

“Your clit is the most amazing color when you’re excited. Did you know that? It’s violet and pink, almost iridescent.” He continued to squeeze my nether lips while peeling them apart to further expose my clit. I felt my whole pussy pulse like the organ of a heart. When his lips again met my beating center, only a few hard strokes of his tongue were needed to call in the tide. I opened my eyes wide to the night sky as I came, the orgasm long and rippling.