2. Katie
KATIE
L ooking down at his hand, three years of thoughts roll around in my head.
On my eighteenth birthday, I was told of the deal my family made with the Miller family and that at twenty-one it would be expected I would be married off. While other girls were doing extracurricular activities to pad their college applications, I was learning how to become not only a ranch wife, but a part-time debutante as well. I was exercising for hours, trying to slim down from the curvy teenager I’d turned into, and not the slender woman I was intended to be. Pounds fell off, muscle formed underneath what was flab. Men started paying attention—the type of attention I’d never had. Only I knew I was promised to another. It let me learn how to flirt. I knew nothing could get serious, and that’s what helped me get with the guy last night.
At some point, my mom told me I was expected to be a virgin when I went to my marriage bed. Might as well auction me off to the highest bidder.
I knew that wasn’t what I wanted. I wouldn’t allow him to not only get the rest of my life, but also my innocence. There was something I needed to have just for me, and that was my virginity.
When my dad dropped the bomb about me being offered to a man, it’d felt like the ultimate betrayal. Like I would never have a life that was my own. From being in their home to going to the home of my husband. I’d contemplated saying no, but after I asked a few questions, I realized I wouldn’t be living at home anymore. At least maybe once I’m gone, I’ll be able to carve out a little life for myself. More than anything, I want outta there, and if this is the way I have to do it—then so be it.
But first? I’m gonna have a little fun. I’ve been eyeing this guy since he came in. Jeans tight in the thighs, but loose around his waist. The t-shirt fits over his torso, showing off a chest and arms that definitely work out regularly. For a second, my gaze goes down to his boots. They aren’t muddy, but they aren’t brand new either. Dust covers the outside, showing he at least uses them to work.
My eyes are on the outstretched hand. Just like his boots, they aren’t completely soft, but there aren’t callouses everywhere either. He’s waiting for me to make a decision. Since tonight is the last free one of my life, I’m going to live it up. Be the woman who has no cares in the world. Who can have fun with some guy she doesn’t know at a honky tonk.
Making the decision is easy. I put my palm in his. His rough skin rubbing against my soft one, and away we go. His warm fingers entwine with mine as he pulls me out through the crowd. I don’t know where we’re going, and for once it’s nice not to have to listen to someone make demands and tell me what I’m going to do. Instead, he’s taking charge and showing me.
I’m not sure I’ve ever truthfully let my hair down, but I’m literally doing that as he opens the back door to his quad-cab truck. Slipping inside, I scoot across the leather seats before reaching up to unclip the claw holding my hair back.
“Are names necessary?” he whispers, dipping his head in close.
The scent of alcohol travels from his mouth to my nose.
“No, tonight I’m whoever you want me to be.”
This isn’t who I normally am, but I’m hours away from never knowing who I might be without others influencing me. Playing another role isn’t any different than what I’ll be asked to do for the rest of my life. I’m unsure if he’ll ease into the encounter or just go for it. His dark eyes shine in the barely-lit parking lot light off to the side of the truck.
“What do you like?” His breathy voice questions.
The tone of his voice brings forth images of entwined limbs on silk sheets. Lazy Sundays not getting out of bed. Late nights staying awake until the sun comes up in his arms.
Shaking my head, I lick my lips. The voice coming out of my mouth isn’t one I recognize.
“There’s no one way to get me there. Give it a shot and see what you come up with.”
He groans, sliding his palms to my jaw, holding it still as he leans into me. Just before our lips meet, he slows and, instead of what I assume will be a branding fit for a Montana rancher, it’s a hesitant tasting. Like it’s a brand-new food he’s never had before; the first bite is small, just to see if he likes it. Once he’s had it though, he devours the rest. His appetite is whet, and so is mine. When our lips touch again, he slides his tongue against mine and together we block out the rest of the world. My mind is no longer focused on what’s going to happen tomorrow when I wake up; I’m only thinking about this moment, in the backseat of this truck, with him.
The more he kisses me, I lose track of not only the time, but my thoughts. I’ve slept with other guys, but never had a one-night stand. This time, I can be the woman I’ve always wanted, while not caring about someone who’s known me my whole life. Nor will I have to worry about the person I’m sleeping with expecting me to be the debutante wife.
I can be me, and that’s more exciting than anything else I’ve ever done. No one has seemed to ever want just me before.
We’re in the backseat of his truck, kissing like high school kids trying to beat our parents coming home.
“Help me,” my tone is husky as I sit up on my knees, walking on them over to where he sits. When I become unsteady, he reaches over, grabbing me around the waist, pulling me over on top of him. Once I get my knees on either side of him, I drop down slightly.
He pushes his head back against the leather of the seat. With the motion, his face and eyes are outlined by the night sky. His eyes are bright, the edge of his mouth kicking up in a grin.
“Lucky you wore jeans that are easy to get you out of.”
“Wasn’t because I was planning on doing this, but seems like both of us are gonna be getting pretty lucky.” Even I cringe at the words that have just come out of my mouth.
He chuckles. With anyone else, I’d probably be embarrassed, but since I know I won’t be seeing him again, I let it all go. Apparently, so does he. He tugs on my neck, using his teeth. I shiver when he sucks at the soft spot where my neck and shoulder meet. I’m sure at this point he can feel my heat through his jeans.
“Touch me,” I beg, crying out when he sinks his teeth into my neck again. Splaying my knees further apart, I give him better access. With two fingers, he sneaks around my panties and begins working against my clit. His mouth moves down to the front of my shirt, lips closing over the peaked nipple as he moves his fingers back and forth.
“Yes,” I sigh. “Don’t stop. Tomorrow morning I have to go to a life I’m not sure I’m made for, and this last night I want to fly.”
“What’s your name?” He swallows roughly as my heat pulses against his fingers.
Closing my eyes against the feeling of what’s happening between us, I inhale deeply, trying to ride the emotions flowing through my body.
“We didn't want names,” I remind him, as I sit back on my knees. When we pull apart, I’m mesmerized by the red tint of his lips, the way his hair is all askew from my fingers. “All we need are our bodies.”
“Okay,” he nods.
Together we work at the buckle holding his jeans up. When we get them down and off, we do the same with his boxer briefs.
“If you grab my wallet, there’s a condom in it,” his mouth is back at my neck, working against that soft spot.
“Okay,” I say, reaching over, handing it to him.
His lips smear up, capturing mine. He must have practiced this before, because he’s able to put the condom over the head of his dick and roll it down without breaking the seal of our kiss.
Grabbing his length at the head, I tease it against my clit before I let him slide it in. We moan when he pulls me down and seats himself completely inside me. We start the age-old rhythm everyone instinctively knows.
My mouth is open as I pant against his neck, trying to hold myself together. He feels better than anyone else I've ever had. If this is the last time I have to be with someone who isn't my husband, I'm glad it's him.
When we’re finished, we’re breathing hard and laying against each other. I pull back first.
“Thank you for that.”
“No, thank you. I’ll always remember the dark-haired girl with the light eyes in the parking lot of Billy’s.” He sighs heavily, licking his dry lips.
I giggle. “I’ll remember the tall, hot, curly-haired country boy who gave me a damn good ride in his truck in the parking lot at Billy’s. Right now, though, I gotta go.”
“Me too.”
We clean up, and when I climb out of the truck, I hear my best friend, Amber, calling to me. “Katie, we gotta go!”
“Coming!”
With one look back at him, I’m wistful. As I walk