The Mother Road

  Porter tosses a shirt that he has in his hands to the side and walks toward me. Instantly, I gulp and back up into the counter of the kitchen. The RV isn’t the biggest space in the world, but when it’s just Porter and me, it’s that much smaller, given Porter’s larger than life atmosphere and sexy ruggedness.

  “Are you wearing my shirt?” he asks, stepping closer so there is only a foot between us.

  I look down at his shirt and hold up the bottom for a second. “Oh, is this yours? I’m sorry, I thought it was Paul’s.”

  “Is that right?” He steps closer, our feet touching now, that devious look still in his eyes. “And have you been spraying my cologne?”

  I stick my nose up in the air and take a big sniff. “Huh, is that your cologne? Smells nice, a little girly, though.”

  His body is now an inch from mine, his eyes burning through me. “You know damn well it doesn’t smell girly. Now tell me, what are you doing in my shirt?” his voice is gruff, almost strained, like he’s pained.

  I’m at a loss for words. No smart ass comments come to mind, all I can think about is Porter inches away from me, scorching me with his glare. A light thrumming runs through my veins and my stomach turns in knots as Porter closes the gap between us and raises his hand above me and holds on to the cabinet.

  I feel dizzy and I try to blame it on the twirling I did earlier, but deep down I know it’s from being so close to Porter and his heady eyes.

  “I’m surprised,” he says in a husky voice. “No retort? That’s not like you, Marley.”

  His other hand that was in his pocket floats up to the hem of the shirt. Slowly, as if he’s trying to torture both of us, he runs his hand under the shirt until his hand is gripping my hip with his thumb running the length of my hip bone.

  I brace myself against the counter of the kitchen, not really sure what to do, not really sure why he’s touching me. His eyes are telling me he wants me, but by the way his jaw is tense, I can tell he’s fighting an inner battle with himself. I’m wondering who’s going to win.

  Porter’s eyelashes lift and he takes a deep breath, looking me directly in the eyes. “You’re so beautiful.”

  Once again, I’m speechless as he leans his head forward, his lips a whisper away from mine. Is he going to kiss me? Right about now, I would give anything to have his lips on mine.

  “What are you thinking, Marley?”

  I take a deep breath before answering, trying to steady my heart. “I’m wondering if you’re going to kiss me,” I answer honestly, searching his deep brown eyes.

  He closes his eyes shut, lowering his head. “I can’t…”

  My heart plummets to the floor, rejection sets in, and embarrassment starts to creep up my spine. Right when I’m about to push him away for being a tease of epic proportions, his thumb runs across my skin and his hand moves further up my side. Chills rack my body from his warm touch and I wonder just what he’s thinking, what’s going on in that handsome head of his.

  “What are you thinking?” I ask, turning his question on him.

  Gradually, his eyes meet mine, strain evident in his pupils. “How I want you but I can’t have you. How I want to know what it’s like to feel you underneath me.” His hand inches further up my side, lifting the shirt with him so half of me is exposed. “I’m thinking about how we live in two different worlds, but how I desperately want to be a part of yours.”

  My mind is reeling from his confession. What is he talking about? Porter doesn’t talk like this; he doesn’t let his heart bleed for all to see.

  “What are you talking…?”

  He shakes his head, cutting my sentence off with a gruff growl. His hand grips my side tighter and his restraint is slipping; I can see it from the desperation in his eyes.

  “I’m not going to kiss you,” he repeats himself. “I’m not going to fucking take what I’ve wanted for years now. Unless…”

  My chest is falling up and down rapidly, my voice is caught in my throat, but I’m able to squeak out, “Unless, what?”

  Constraint is falling fast, hands are not where they are supposed to be where friends are concerned, and there is only a thin flannel shirt that stands between my naked body and his clothed one.

  Porter rests his forehead against mine, his nose touching mine, his hand inching just a little bit higher…

  “Tell me to leave you alone, Marley. Tell me to leave and go back to your brother.”

  My entire body is throbbing, my toes are tingling, and desire is flowing between us at a rapid pace. The words he so desperately wants to hear aren’t being repeated by me, they are the furthest thing away from being announced. I have so many other things I want to say to him.

  Kiss me.

  Touch me.

  Screw me.

  Love me.

  Knowing what I want, I shake my head no, our noses rubbing.

  “I don’t want to.”

  A low growl comes from Porter, his hand slipping upwards just another inch so his thumb is pressing against the bottom of my breast. Pleasure erupts inside of me, my hips desperate to rub against his, my body determined to feel his.

  “Kiss me, Porter.”

  “I can’t,” he rumbles.

  I take tiny breaths, not wanting to move from his contact. “Why not?”

  “Because.” His thumb strokes my breast and I about melt at his touch. “I won’t be able to stop if I do.”

  “Then don’t stop.” I wait in anticipation as his eyes search mine, looking for answers. I think he’s about to walk away when his hand that is gripping the cabinet above us releases and grabs the back of my head, bringing my lips against his.

  His patience snaps and he presses me against the counter, his lips exploring mine, our bodies claiming one another. My hands grab handfuls of his shirt and pull him closer. His fingers run through my hair, massaging my head as his tongue slips into my mouth.

  Bliss settles over me from his beard rubbing against the soft skin of my face and the way his thumb keeps dancing dangerously close to my nipple, which is hard, begging to be touched.

  Right when I think he’s finally going to touch me where I want him to, he pulls away, causing a groan of distress to fly out of my mouth, shocking us both. He smiles against my lips and surprises me when his hand retreats from under my shirt, but then finds the buttons of the flannel. With deft fingers, he undoes the buttons I haphazardly closed while his mouth dives into mine. The hand that’s gripping my hair falls to my waist, and with one hoist, he lifts me up to sit on the counter just as he undoes the last button.

  Pulling away, he looks down at me, observing the gap in the undone shirt. My cleavage is prominently on display and he can see the red lace thong I have on. He runs his hand over his beard in appreciation and then presses both of his hands against my shoulders. Gradually, his hands fall under the fabric and push it back, his eyes glued to my chest. The fabric tortuously starts to fall down until my chest is exposed to the chilly morning air.

  Porter’s eyes burn into my soul as he takes in my topless breasts. When I woke up this morning, I never thought I would be sitting on the kitchen counter a few minutes later, Porter between my legs, staring at my breasts, but miracles do happen because here I am, about to get some fantastic beard burn from my fantasy man.

  “You’re just so fucking beautiful,” he mutters before his hands run up my sides and finally grip my breasts.

  My head falls back from the grip he has around my nipples. My neck is exposed, which Porter takes advantage of by kissing and sucking his way up to my jaw. I lower my head so our lips match up. He’s demanding, his tongue is relentless, and his hands knead my breasts until I feel an impending orgasm starting to build at the bottom of my stomach.

  Needing to hold him, I place my hands on the back of his neck where they play with his hair, bringing him closer to my mouth.

  He kisses my lips, pulls away, and starts running his head down my neck to my breasts, where he strokes my nipples with the flat o
f his tongue. Sparks of pleasure pass through me, exposing my nerve endings to a whole new type of euphoria.

  When I think he’s going to set up camp next to my breasts, he moves his head lower, kissing my stomach and then right above my waistline.

  He doesn’t ask, he just takes charge and spreads my legs. Pushing my thong to the side, he exposes my heated core and lowers his head so he’s resting right in front of it. With one push of his tongue, he’s fucking me with his mouth. A loud moan escapes me and I grip onto his head, wondering what the hell possessed me to let this happen.

  I glance down where Porter is looking up at me and stroking me methodically with his mouth, and I know he possesses me. He owns me and I would do anything, and I mean anything, to make him happy.

  His beard rubs against my legs, but I don’t care, it feels good, everything about him feels good.

  I can feel my orgasm start to rise from the tips of my toes, up my legs until it reaches the junction between my thighs. My stomach tumbles, my arms go numb, and my head falls back as every ounce of feeling in my body focuses on one central location. I’m tipping over, I’ve reached my apogee of gratification.

  Exploding white hot pleasure races through me as I scream Porter’s name, unable to stop the moans coming from my mouth as I ride out my orgasm on Porter’s tongue. When the throbbing comes to a low roar, Porter pulls away and wipes his beard as he stands up with a giant smile on his face. He grips my hips and leans forward to kiss me, just as I hear Paul’s voice in the distance calling Porter’s name.

  “Shit, shit, shit,” I scramble around, trying to find a shirt to put on so my brother doesn’t see me naked, straddling his best friend.

  “Fuck,” Porter mutters, dropping his hands from my waist and finding the flannel on the floor. He tosses it to me and then looks down at his crotch.

  Holy mother of all boners. Porter is packing and pressing against the zipper of his jeans.

  “Oh, my God, you have a boner,” I say, speaking what’s running through my mind.

  “Yeah, kind of happens when I have a sexy as fuck woman in my arms.” He rubs the back of his neck, looking around for an escape.

  “Porter, where the hell are you? I thought you were bringing doughnies back to the boat. I told you no powdered ones.”

  “Jesus,” Porter shakes his head as I scramble to put my shirt on, ignoring the pounding between my legs.

  “You need to get that thing out of here,” I point at Porter’s erection.

  “Thing?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

  “You know what I mean. Paul can’t see your penis all puffed up and proud like a peacock.”

  Porter laughs. “Don’t fucking call it a peacock.”

  “Was there orange juice in the fridge? I want some orange juice.”

  Paul has to be only a few feet away now, still flapping his gums for everyone to hear.

  “Get in the bathroom,” I hop off the cabinet and push him toward the back, trying to straighten my hair at the same time. “Don’t say a word, be quiet.”

  “But it’s disgusting in here.”

  “Just get in there!” I scream-whisper.

  Just as I shut the door to the bathroom, Paul opens Tacy’s door. He walks up the stairs and stops when he sees me twirling my hair, leaning against the RV wall, the flannel buttoned up unevenly and what I can only assume is a guilty look on my face. He scans the RV and pushes Porter’s bag with his foot.

  “What are you doing?” He’s confused, it’s evident in the way he asks his question, practically tilting his head to the side like a dog.

  “Hanging,” I say as casually as possible.

  “Why are you naked?”

  “I’m not naked!” I screech, but then remind myself to be cool. With a more even voice, I say, “I’m wearing clothes.”

  Paul scans my outfit and frowns. “That looks like Porter’s shirt, and what is that smell?” He sniffs the air.

  Please don’t say sex, please for the love of all the holy men in the universe, don’t say sex.

  “That’s Porter’s cologne, unmistakable! Where is he?”

  Did you hear that? That was my jaw hitting the ground in shock. Denial roars awake, and instead of cowering in the corner where I run my finger up and down my lips, pulling a Bugs Bunny, I lie.

  Life lesson, lying is good when faced with a situation like this. When your brother’s best friend just licked your clit to full on oral stimulation and is now hiding in the beard clipping infested, pee soaked bathroom so he doesn’t poke people with the ten foot long pole in his pants, this is a moment to lie. Lie your freaking ass off.

  “What are you talking about? Porter is with you fishing. I’ve been spraying Porter’s cologne all over your bedding, you know, pulling another prank. I wanted to see if there was more to your friendship than meets the eye. Basically, I wanted to see if you got aroused at night from the smell. But oops, you caught me, oh well. We’ll just call it even.” I grab the box of doughnuts off the counter and hold them out to Paul. “Doughnie?”

  Paul eyes the doughnuts, but doesn’t bite. “Then where is Porter?”

  I shrug. “Got me. Did you check the bathrooms? He might be taking a shit.”

  Paul scrunches his nose. “I knew that was him who was farting while we baited our hooks. I about passed out back there. Well, if you see him, tell him I got the doughnuts.” He grabs the box from my hand, quickly moving away. “Why are you wearing his flannel shirt?”

  I look down at it and then curtsy. “I was going to make some minor alterations as a prank, so when he put it on, it wouldn’t fit. You know, bring the egomaniac down a few pegs. It’s easier to alter when I’m wearing it.” All grade-A lies.

  “Oh, good one,” Paul nods. “Do we have orange juice?”

  “Nope, I think the lodge does, though.”

  “Alright, thanks, sis. Fingers crossed we catch some fish for dinner tonight.”

  I hold out my crossed fingers for Paul as he exits the RV and heads toward the lodge. Once he’s out of sight, I run to the bathroom and fling the door open, breathing for the first time since Paul arrived.

  Porter saunters out, erection controlled, but desire still laden in his eyes. He pins me against the cabinets and whispers, “Egomaniac?” His fingers grip my chin, forcing me to look at him.

  I shrug my shoulders, not knowing how else to react when he’s inches away from me, blocking me in with his tall, yet sexy stature.

  He licks his lips, the same lips that were just on my most private of areas a few moments ago. He leans forward and presses a very light kiss across my mouth.

  His voice is heavy as he speaks. “Just so you know, you taste fucking amazing, like whipped cream and strawberries.”

  He bites my bottom lip and then pulls away. I swear to you, scouts honor, my vagina just quivered. No joke, it shook on its own from Porter’s confession.

  “Got to go. Have fun altering my shirt.” He winks and heads for the door.

  I can’t help but go all girl on him and call out, “What’s happening here?”

  Over his shoulder he says, “Exchanging souls with the Devil and dabbling in the forbidden. Don’t look into it, Marley, just know, you are better than I ever imagined.”

  With that, he walks out of Tacy and slams the door shut. Confused as hell, I look out the window to see Porter standing next to the fire pit, one hand on his hip and the other running through his hair. His back is tense and I can tell, without even looking at his face that he’s regretting everything we just did.

  If that’s not a blow to the gut, I don’t know what is.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  **PORTER**

  “Why do you have that stupid smile on your face?” Paul asks from over the passenger seat. “Are you really that excited about seeing the blue whale?”

  “What?” I turn to Paul, who looks irritated. “Oh yeah, the blue whale, super excited man.”

  Honestly, I could give two shits about the blue whale, which according
to Paul and the history lesson he gave us an hour ago, the blue whale is the most iconic attraction on Route 66 because of its size and value it offered to families traveling in hot cars all day. Attached to the Davis pond in Catoosa, Oklahoma, the blue whale used to be a swimming hole of fun for tourists of all ages.

  Nope, the whale is the last thing on my mind right about now. All I can think about are the leggings Marley is wearing and the tight top she decided to put on after she took my flannel off. Well, that and the fact that a few hours ago I had her boobs in my mouth and her hands dancing through my hair, pulling me closer to her.

  When Paul asked me to go get the doughnuts, I wasn’t even expecting Marley to be awake, but the minute I saw her in my flannel, twirling around and spraying my cologne, my vision became black and all I could focus on was not mauling her up against the wall of the RV.

  I never wanted to cross that line we developed, the friendship line, but I snapped, lost all control, and took what I so desperately have been craving for years, and fuck if she wasn’t one hell of a kisser. Probably the best I’ve ever had the pleasure of sinking my mouth on.

  Even though I was lost in her touch, in the little mews that popped out of her delectable lips when she came, I couldn’t have been happier for Paul’s disturbance. It was like he gut checked me from afar, reminding me of one of the major reasons why I shouldn’t be fraternizing with Marley; she’s my best friend’s sister. She’s also the daughter of the man who employs me and the girl who I once destroyed.

  “I like blue whales. They’re so big and girthy,” Marley says from the side, interrupting my thoughts and bringing them back to her long legs that are very slowly rubbing together, as if she is a cricket chirping away a dick-growing melody.

  Paul clears his throat and chimes in. “Did you know that an average blue whale’s penis is nine feet long and twelve inches in diameter? Their balls can weigh up to one-hundred and fifty pounds. That’s like having two human adults hanging between your legs. Try rolling those up in your pants.” Paul sticks his finger up in the air as he continues. “Also, don’t plan on giving a blue whale a blow job anytime soon, unless you’re ready to swallow up to thirty five pints of semen. Ejaculation is a scary thing with whales; you can drown in whale spunk. What a way to go. Here lies, Porter. Died from suffocation of whale cum.”