Cruise Control (Watchers Crew) Read online

  “That’s dangerous territory. I’m not a saint, Kira.”

  He tucked me back under the covers and lay on top of the sheets. He pulled me into him, right into that space in his chest where I fit perfectly. In a matter of minutes, I was asleep.

  When I opened my eyes next, the sun’s rays were still tucked into the horizon. I shifted to find Owl wide-awake, staring down at me.

  “Hey,” I said.

  “Hey,” he mimicked. “Did you need me to go now?”

  “Go?”

  “The last thing I want to do is wear out my welcome, Kira.”

  I shook my head from side-to-side on the pillowcase. “You don’t have to go. I’m comfortable.”

  “Me too.”

  I slide my covered leg between his and met his morning wood against my thigh.

  “I said that I would keep my distance,” Owl grinned. “He has a mind of his own.”

  I laughed putting my head back in that space between his pecs, the space that seemed to mold around my head. “Owl?”

  “Mmm?”

  “I’m still trying to figure things out with myself, with us, with others. But there’s one thing I know for sure.” I reached out and put my hand on his dick. “I like being close to him.”

  Owl’s jaw tensed as I touched him. He searched my eyes for something. I wasn’t sure what? He leaned in, and then stopped himself. Finally, he just asked.

  “Can I kiss you?”

  I smiled. “Of cou-"

  His lips crashed into mine. His hands went into my hair, clasping me to him. My instinct was to go slack in his arms, to let him have his way with me. But I shoved that idea by the wayside. I clutched back at him, giving as good as I got. He pulled away, grinning down at me, looking at me in a new light as the sun rose.

  “Are you sore?” he asked.

  I set my mouth to say no, but felt the twinge as I clenched my thighs from the want of him.

  “Lay back, baby. Let me take care of you.” Owl stood, sweeping the sheet off my body. He disappeared into the bathroom and reemerged with a travel-sized tube of baby oil in his hand. Then he undressed quickly and climbed back on the bed.

  He came between my legs. I opened my thighs for him. I knew where this was going. He began the same sensual massage he’d given Ellie. Only he rubbed his hands all over my body. My shoulders, my back, my breasts, the balls of my feet, between each toe, then up and between each finger, all before he arrived at my core.

  We breathed in unison as he traced circles around my pubic bone. I arched into his touch as he rubbed first my right and then my left labia. That tapping thing he did with the tips of his fingers; that made me want to grab his dick and shove it inside of me right now. As though he read my mind, he finally took his dick and brought it to my core.

  We both sighed as he entered me. He slid into what we both knew was his home after he’d cleaned up the beautiful mess our guests had made of me. He didn’t thrust right away, and I was glad for it. I needed a moment to soak him in. It was the first time I’d felt whole in days.

  I knew I still had work to do on myself. I wasn’t yet the woman I was striving to be. I knew that if Owl were to leave me tomorrow, I would have a really hard time with it. I knew that I still had trust and abandonment issues, not just when it came to my man, but to my friends.

  I was not yet wholly who I wanted to be. But I knew in this moment of deep penetration that I would get there following an easier path if this man and his crew of friends were by my side.

  “Is it okay to say I love you?” he asked me while our bodies were one. “Because that’s what I’m feeling right now.”

  “I feel it too, Owl.”

  He smiled down at me. “I’m not going to take advantage of that. I know you still need your space to find yourself. But I am going to fuck you so hard right now you’re going to forget who you are.”

  I laughed, but my laughter was short lived as he made good on his promise. He fucked me so hard that my teeth chattered. He fucked me so hard that my toes curled into my heels. He fucked me so hard that I felt it in my ass.

  An orgasm built deep inside of me, but as it came to the top of the mountain it looked from me to him, uncertain who it would listen to for permission to fly. Owl kept his mouth shut as he continued to pummel into me. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and let myself go.

  As I climaxed, I felt him falling down with me. Our hands entwined, our hearts beat in sync. We crashed into each other and we didn’t let go.

  The sun was high when we finally crawled out of the bed and got dressed. At the door, Owl pulled me into an embrace.

  “I’m not putting any restraints or constraints on you, Kira. Open or closed, it doesn’t make a difference. I just want to love you, baby.”

  I cuddled into the spot on his chest that was mine and heard in his heartbeat the truth of his words.

  “I know it’s going to take time to rebuild the trust we had,” he continued. “But I want you to know that I respect you and will respect your boundaries. If you want to explore other relationships, I will support you -if you want me there. Or I will stay out of your way if you need the space to do it on your own. Just know that at the end of the day, I want the opportunity to be the one who holds you.”

  It was all I’d ever wanted in a relationship. He’d wrapped it in a neat little bow, a bow without any knots or passcodes, and handed it to me. I reached over into a side table and withdrew my spare key. I placed it in Owl’s hands.

  He looked down at the key with a raised eyebrow. “This is a lot of power you’re placing in my hands.”

  I smiled, planting a kiss on his cheek. “I trust you to not over step your boundaries.”

  Owl jingled the solo key on the ring. “Maybe I can come back tonight?”

  I leaned against the doorjamb and nodded, not even bothering to play a game of coyness. Because the truth was, he was offering me exactly what I wanted. “Maybe I’ll come to your crew’s party.”

  He planted a chaste kiss on my brow. “If you do, I’ll be ready when you come for me, Kira."

  Owl turned and walked down the hall. Not until he was out of sight and the door was closed, did I allow myself to sink down to the ground as the orgasm wracked through my body.

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  A starry-eyed virgin...

  As an inspirational romance author, Mary Katherine’s life revolves around the idea of true love. She writes happily-ever-afters full of fidelity, handholding, and sweet first kisses. When her new publisher insists she write a steamy, erotic romance, she’s thrown for a loop. She has no real experience with love, romance, or sex. But if she doesn’t turn in a new manuscript full of hot scenes, she’ll be out of a job.

  A fast driving ladies man...

  Street racer, Crow, has never taken anything seriously in his life, until sweet Mary Katherine asks him for help writing authentic sex scenes in her romance novel. Drawn to her since they first met, he’s more than happy to help the curvy author with her research. But the more they explore virgin territory, the more he comes to realize that there might be something to this little thing called love.

  Can two individuals who love from different sides of the heart come together as one?

  Chapter Four

  “Christopher,” said the older woman. “This is… I’m sorry, dear. I didn’t get your name?”

  I hadn’t left my name when I’d called in earlier. I’d just said I’d be by to pick up the items. Staring into Christopher’s fathomless, blue eyes again, I lost my sense. Something inside told me to tell him everything. And so I did.

  “Mary Katherine. Mary Katherine Wallace.”

  “That’s a lovely name. I’m Holly and this is Christopher. Christopher, Ms. Wallace here is an author. She’s doing research for her novel.”

  I expected the guy to blanch at the idea of t
alking about books. Instead, his blue eyes lit up. I had to brace myself by leaning into the counter from the impact. I was an absolute sucker for handsome men. It didn’t cause me much trouble. I so rarely spoke to drop dead gorgeous model types.

  Christopher gave me his full attention. And then he spoke to me. “Anything I would know?” he asked.

  I wrestled to untie my tongue. “I doubt it. Unless you read romance novels?”

  “Read them? I inhaled Harlequins as a teenaged boy. The chance to get inside a girl’s head. Why would I pass up that opportunity?”

  I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not? His tone was serious, but mischief clouded those blue of his eyes. Then his face sobered. The mischief fled his gaze and an intelligent front moved in.

  “But I have complaints,” he said. “A lot of those books set women up for unrealistic expectations.”

  He sat the box of anal plugs on the counter. Then he motioned me towards a table with chairs. He preceded me and pulled out a chair, looking up at me expectantly.

  I was too shocked to do anything but follow.

  “Take for example the grand gesture,” he continued once we both were seated. “It’s the guy that’s always in the wrong and has to make an apology speech. But both the guy and the girl have a part in the problem, or the misunderstanding. Then there’s the happily-ever-after. The book ends just when everything’s getting started, when we all know for a fact that every couple has their ups and downs, and many relationships don’t last the first year. My parents have been together for thirty years. They fuss and they fight, but my dad says he wakes up every morning and reaches for my mother, even when he’s mad at her.”

  My toes curled up into the clouds. My ovaries had heart palpitations. On the other side of the wall, I heard the Orgasmic Meditation group. Their chants were no longer in synch. They were also no longer in harmony. Some cries rang higher, others lower.

  “But my biggest gripe,” Christopher continued his sermon over the chorus of guttural praises in the next room, “is the simultaneous orgasm. Do you know how hard that is to achieve? And not all women are multi-orgasmic. But they expect the guy to do all the work, and all she has to do is lay there. That’s what romance novels teach women.”

  The bell ringing over the entry door broke up the chanting and his speech. Two women entered the shop.

  They were both tall with legs for days. The first was pancake thin in a low-cut blouse and hip-hugging skirt. The second was shaped like a soda bottle with a slim torso and then a flaring backside that couldn’t be real. But as I looked closer at their faces, I realized that they had to be twins.

  “Hi, Ms. Holly,” they said in unison.

  “Hello, girls,” said Holly with a welcoming smile. “Your order came in this morning. I’ll grab it for you.” She disappeared down the private hall.

  “Hey, Crow,” purred Soda Bottle. “I hear your crew is having a party tonight.”

  “We’re coming over,” said Pancake. “You wanna come to our place for some pre-party fun?”

  “Thanks ladies, but no. I’m talking to my new friend, MK.”

  Pancake and Soda Bottle glanced at me. Holly came out of the back with a package in her hands and motioned the girls over to the cash register. They went without a huff. By the time I turned back around, Christopher, or was it Crow, had his eyes back on me.

  “So, tell me about your story, MK.”

  I looked between the twins and him. They looked like the type of women who knew how to tell a naked man what to do. I’d never even seen a naked man in real life. This, sitting across a table from Christopher, was the closest I’d been to a man in months. “You should probably go with them.”

  “I’ll hook up with them later,” he said.

  “You could probably get lucky with them. You should know that’s not going to happen with me.”

  The mischief returned to his blue eyes. “I wasn’t aware that I’d offered sex. I thought we were having a conversation.”

  The tips of my ears burned bright red. Of course he wasn’t interested in me. Not when he had twin models throwing themselves at him. “I’m sorry. I realize I’m not your type-”

  “No,” he chuckled. “You’re exactly my type, MK.”

  I liked my name. I thought it made me unique having two first names. Being called two letters, by this man with an angelic face and the devil in his eyes, made me feel like a different version of myself. Someone hip and cool.

  I shook myself out of it. Inside, I was the same old Mary Katherine. “I’m a virgin.”

  That should do it. When I laid that bit of knowledge on the men I dated that got them leaning back in their chairs and raising their hand for the check. Christopher leaned back in his chair, but his hand didn’t rise to call forth the end of our time together. The look on his face began as a grimace, but it kept spreading wider and wider, like the Cheshire cat.

  “Oh, MK.” He shook his head as he rubbed his thumb across his grinning lips. “I’ve got a thing for virgins.”

  He looked at me with interest. He specifically looked at my chest with interest, like he was debating the best way to get me out of my sundress.

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m waiting until marriage.”

  He cocked his head, curious but undaunted. “For religious reasons?”

  I was shocked that we were still having this conversation. Most guys would have run for the hills by this time. “Are you trying to figure out the rules of some game?”

  He leaned back in his chair, smile still in place. “You’re the one who keeps putting your cherry on a platter. I was simply enjoying your company.”

  “You’re leering at my breasts,” I said.

  He shrugged, completely unapologetic. “I’ve got a thing for breasts. And your body is smoking hot. It’s not illegal to look.”

  He was joking. He had to be joking. I was twenty pounds overweight, thirty if you asked my mother. Christopher was a golden god. He could go after the sure things, like Pancake and Soda Bottle who were waving goodbye as they left the shop. So why was he staying with me?

  His eyes were fastened on mine. Intelligence pushing aside the mischief once more. “How are you going to write sex scenes with no sexual experience?”

  The moan of a woman from the other room punctuated his question. I bit the inside of my cheek.

  I looked up at Christopher, who continued to rub his thumb against his lip as he considered me. The motion was hypnotic. My tongue snuck out and licked at my lips. “Are you going to offer me some experience?”

  His eyes zeroed in on my tongue. He pinched the spot on his lip that mirrored where my tongue had just landed on my bottom lip. I shut my eyes as I realized he was right. I had just offered up my cherry on a platter to him again.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t know why I said that?”

  “I’m not after your panties, MK. You’re not my type.”

  My head jerked back giving me whiplash.

  “Physically, yes. But mentally, no. You’re a Mrs. Forever. I’m a Mr. Right now.”

  “Meaning,” I said, “you’re not the settling down and marrying kind? Or if you did, you would cheat on your wife.”

  “I’ve never cheated anyone in my life.” Christopher frowned, looking like a petulant child and reminding me of my sister’s boys. “I’ll fuck those two girls tonight. They’ll both know I fucked the other one. Hell, I’ll probably fuck them both at the same time. Might fuck another girl after that. I don’t lie to girls to get what I want. I tell them the truth, and if it’s not something they want, I move along. I’ve never forced anyone to do anything… unless they asked me to.”

  Again, I saw the flash of the devil hidden behind that angelic face.

  “Plus,” he continued with that Cheshire grin, “I have a short attention span. I couldn’t keep all the lies straight in my head.”

  Why was I still sitting and listening to this guy? And why was I still hearing his voice reining me in from up h
igh on Cloud Nine? He was everything I didn’t want in a life partner. Mainly, because he had no intentions of being anyone’s life partner. He worked in a sex shop. He drove a fast car and broke the speed limit. He admitted that he slept with multiple women at the same time.

  “Most would say I’m more honest than they’d care to hear,” Christopher said. “I have no intentions of getting married. That’s a condition of having sex with you, right?”

  I couldn’t respond. My ears were still replaying him talking about having sex with me.

  “Therefore, I have no intentions of taking your virginity because that’s not a responsibility I’m willing to commit to.”

  He was right. That was more honesty than I cared to hear. “So why are you still here?”

  “I never met a romance writer before,” he grinned, letting go of his serious side. “I’m interested. My mother calls me insatiably curious. So tell me, how do you keep your readers interested with no sex?”

  He’d picked up the conversation about my work again, as though we hadn’t been discussing both of our vastly different sex lives. My head was spinning from all the directions my attention was being pulled toward.

  There was the crescendoing sounds coming from behind the wall. There was the sound of the bell dinging letting customers in. The sound of Holly’s cheery voice as she greeted them. And then there was Christopher, sitting before me with an attentiveness I hadn’t had since my grandparents passed away a few years ago.

  “Relationships aren’t all about sex,” I said.

  He frowned in disbelief.

  “They’re not,” I insisted. “They’re about connection and emotion over time. Love happens emotionally, spiritually, before the physical. Victorian and Regency romances were hundreds of pages long with only a kiss on the last page. Yet, it was clear the hero and heroine were in love by the middle. You really know it’s true before all the sex clouds your brain.”