Chapter 7
Enid
Bernie and I stand awkwardly with his brother in front of the hotel while we wait for Doris. My lips still burn from his stubble, and the taste of him lingers on my tongue.
I feel my cheeks burn when his brother sniffs him and says, “Is that cherry lip balm?”
Before Bernie answers, the front door swings open and a pleased Doris, with her Blue Persian, walks out. She looks over at the jar Barrett is holding and shrugs.
“No luck in capturing it? Oh well.”
“That’s, that’s it? You were alone in there for less than ten minutes.” Bernie says.
“That’s it! And I’m beat. Take me home, please.”
Doris and Sterling hop into the truck and look out the window expectantly at us. I look up at the brothers, who both burst into laughter.
“This Doris woman is a trip,” Barrett says.
Bernie looks at his watch and says, “I figured she’d stay at the hotel for the night, but it’s early enough. I can drive her home.”
“I’ll join you,” I say, feeling his brother shoot me a curious grin, so I quickly add, “Since I promised her I would.”
* * *
The drive back to Joshua Tree which was, yet again, filled with Doris’s storytelling, is overall uneventful. When we pull up in front of her cottage, the witch follows her familiar out of the truck with barely a goodbye.
When she reaches her front door, Doris turns to us and gestures for me to roll down my window.
“Now, you two, drive safe and I hope it’s an interesting trip!” she says with a snort, before entering her home and leaving us to wonder what the heck she meant.
Bernie laughs to himself as he begins the descent down the windy hill.
“You know, I wouldn’t have thought much about that last comment of hers, but she is a witch. So, like, what the hell?”
I laugh and shrug.
“I’m with you.”
He steals a glance at me after rounding a sharp turn and shoots me a smile.
“That, I’m grateful for.”
My heart flutters in my chest while I look out at the view.
* * *
An hour from home, as the sun sets, dark clouds suddenly cover the pretty pinks and purples in the sky. Both of our phones buzz loudly.
“Kidnapping?” Bernie asks with concern.
“No, flash flood.”
When I say this, he slows down. Ahead of us, we can see a sheet of rain pouring down from the darkened sky and red tail lights popping up all over.
“I’m taking this exit,” he says with determination, making a sharp turn off the freeway.
Rain comes down hard as we pull onto the side street. Through the wet blur, I see a vacancy sign flashing at the stoplight.
“Should we duck in there?” I say, pointing.
A car in front of us loses control, spinning out onto the side of the road and just misses a telephone pole. The driver gets out, already on his phone.
“Uh, yeah.” Bernie says, coasting down the flooded street and into the motel's parking lot.
He slides into an empty parking space. The two of us bolt out of the truck and into the lobby.
“Wow! It’s really coming down!” the motel clerk says as a greeting.
“We’d like a couple of rooms to dry off in,” Bernie says, opening his damp wallet.
“No problem, sir, although we just have the one left. Is that OK?”
Bernie looks over at me, his gray hair plastered on his forehead, and I give him the okay.
“There’s a pizza place across the street, although they closed the last time we had a flash flood. We also have vending machines next to room 2.”
Bernie and I scurry to our room under the useless motel awnings. We burst into the room and both breakout into giggles.
“Did Doris create this storm?” I wonder out loud.
“I didn't even think of that!”
Peeling off my soaking wet sweater, I kick off my shoes. Bernie does the same and we turn, staring at each other, both wearing drenched t-shirts that are clinging to our bodies. He clears his throat, heat coming from his brown eyes.
“She did seem to know what would happen in Dark Wings Manor.”
“Yeah,” I say, barely audible.
My wet bangs fall into my eyes, and he reaches over to brush them aside. I step closer to him and he allows his fingers to explore my hair. His hand moves down to the back of my neck, massaging it, while our eyes are locked on one another.
I step back and peel off my wet shirt. Bernie’s eyes immediately go to my damp bra, plastered over my breasts. I watch his face as I unhook the back and let my tits fall out. My nipples harden from the cool air, but soon his tongue is warming them as he bends forward, gripping my hips.
Grabbing his shirt, I help him take it off. We stand there, staring at each other’s naked chests. He gives me a wicked grin and I peel off my leggings, walking backwards to the bed. I crawl under the covers as he tears off his jeans.
Well, attempts to, since they are soaking wet. He sits down laughing while he works them down his legs, looking at me with desperation.
Crawling into bed with me, Bernie’s body heat feels amazing against my skin. He buries his face into my breasts, licking them so well that I already feel like I could climax. I play with my clit as he takes my nipples to task, coming loudly into his ear.
Bernie reaches down and plays with my throbbing pussy.
“You’re so wet. And so warm,” he growls.
“And so empty.”
He grins at me, kneeling in front of my open legs.
“That can be remedied.”
When Bernie enters me, I practically mew from how good he feels inside.
He fucks me while holding my tits firmly in his rough blue-collar hands, and I moan loudly with each thrust. His balls slap against me while he pounds away, grunting every time he pushes in deeper.
I reach up and lightly grab at his chest hair, feeling his hard pecs under my grip.
“Fuck, yes,” he breathes out, gripping the back of my hair. Bernie lowers closer to me, our eyes locked, and the sound of him peaking sends electric thrills up the walls of my pussy. I grab his face, kissing him hard, before he rolls off of me.
Bernie pulls me onto his warm, fuzzy chest and we lie there, listening to the crazy rain, and deciding what vending machine snacks will be good for dinner.