3. Sienna
CHAPTER 3
Sienna
S tanding in front of my car feels like saying goodbye to a part of myself, even though I’ve never been particularly attached to it.
“Ready?”
I glance over my shoulder. Garrett is standing a few feet away, his truck towering behind him. The rig is massive, shining faintly under the overhead lights.
“Yeah,” I lie.
He opens the door and gestures for me to climb up. “Go on. I’ll grab you something to change into.”
I hesitate for just a second before grabbing the handle and hoisting myself up. The interior of the cab is surprisingly clean and organized. The seats are upholstered in soft gray leather, and the dashboard is packed with switches and screens I can’t begin to understand.
A moment later, Garrett hands me a folded stack of clothes—a pair of gray sweatpants and a black t-shirt. “They’ll be big, but they’ll be more comfortable than that dress. We’ll get you some real clothes in the morning. There’s a curtain in the back,” he says, gesturing to the sleeper cab behind the driver’s seat. “You can change in there. I’ll wait out here.”
It’s surprisingly spacious, with a full-size mattress covered in a navy blue quilt. Shelves line the walls, packed neatly with books, snacks, and a few personal items. His clothes are stored under the bed. A tiny home for a man who never stops moving.
For a moment, I just stand there, taking it all in. It’s not what I expected at all. I change quickly, peeling off the heavy dress and slipping into Garrett’s clothes. They’re comically large on me, the sweatpants pool around my ankles, and the t-shirt hangs past my hips, but the soft fabric feels like heaven after hours in the constricting gown. The fabric smells like laundry detergent and the deep scent of Garrett himself—cedar and pine.
When I step out, Garrett looks up from where he’s leaning against the truck, his arms crossed.
“Better?” he asks.
“Much,” I admit, smoothing down the front of the shirt.
“Good,” he says, climbing into the driver’s seat. “You look damned good wearing my things, princess. Let’s get moving.”
I settle into the passenger seat as he starts the engine, the truck rumbling to life. The truck rides way smoother than I would have thought, and Garrett maneuvers the complicated machine with practiced ease. I watch him, enjoying the spectacle of someone completely in his element.
The fact that he’s absolutely gorgeous doesn’t hurt, either.
“No reason for you to ride up here with me, darlin’. You should get some sleep,” Garrett says when I try to cover up a yawn.
It feels too intimate, sleeping just a few feet away from this man I just met, but I am exhausted. And I knew from the get-go that I’d be sleeping in the truck.
“Okay,” I whisper, unbuckling my seatbelt and climbing into the back.
The mattress is soft, and the quilt smells faintly of Garrett. I lie down, curling up on my side, and the gentle rumble of the engine beneath me feels almost soothing. As my eyes drift shut, I realize I’ve forgotten to tell Garrett one incredibly important thing.
“Garrett?”
“Yeah, princess?”
“Thank you.”
It takes him a second to answer, but there’s satisfaction in his voice when he does. “You’re welcome, Sienna. More than welcome.”
The next two days pass in a strange, comforting rhythm, like I’ve stepped into another life. Which I guess I have. It should be boring, but every single thing we do is a brand-new experience for me.
The first morning, he takes me to Target for my new wardrobe. I pick out a handful of matching yoga sets, sweatshirts, gym shoes, sandals, two pairs of jeans, and four shirts in different pastel shades. The entire time we shop, Garrett sticks close to me, his big, warm hand on the nape of my neck or lower back. Anytime a man has the audacity to look in my direction, he gives them a single look, and they run away like a dog with their tail tucked between their legs.
When I reach into my clutch to grab my credit card, Garrett puts his hand on mine to stop me. “Your credit card can be tracked. You can’t use it.”
“Oh.” Guilt creeps in. “I don’t want you to have to take care of me like I’m helpless.”
His hand came to my face, gripping my chin with two fingers and turning my face to his. “Sienna, I want to buy you these clothes, okay? I like taking care of you.”
His eyes rake over me as he says this, and my cheeks heat. It’s like I can almost feel his gaze, especially when it hesitates on my chest. I shiver in delight. “Oh. Um. Okay, Garrett. Thank you.”
After Target, we return to the truck once more. The swampy marshes surrounding New Orleans are long gone, and things get drier and drier the farther west we go. Soon the greenery switches to dusty plains and rocky hills.
Garrett tells me about the places he’s been, the odd sights he’s seen on the road. I hang on to every word, grateful for the distraction and the way he makes me feel like the world is bigger than the box my family has always kept me in. I find myself laughing at his dry humor, surprised by how easy it is to relax around him.
The worst part is showering at the truck stop gas stations, but Garrett hovers outside my stall, never leaving. He’s insistent that I’m fully dressed before I emerge—no quick towel runs to the truck.
At night, when he pulls over at rest stops or quiet parking lots, I curl up in the sleeper cab. Garrett always stays up front, reclining his seat to sleep, a spare throw blanket tossed over his big body.
I tell myself it’s better this way, but every time I look at the empty space beside me, I feel an ache I can’t explain. Like maybe we’d both be more comfortable if he slept next to me.
I catch myself staring at him more often than I should—at the way his hands grip the wheel, strong and capable; at the line of his jaw covered by the dark beard. The visceral pull I felt when we first met hasn’t faded. If anything, it’s grown stronger, more insistent. Something is happening between us, and we both know it.
We’ve crossed into New Mexico, and it’s around 8 p.m. when the sun starts to sink below the horizon. The sunsets here are unlike anything I’ve ever seen—fiery orange and deep purple, the colors melting like watercolors.
Garrett catches me staring out the window and chuckles. “Never been out west before, huh?”
“I’ve flown over it before.”
He laughs but doesn’t say anything else. Before I know it, the truck rumbles to a stop at the side of the road, and I look over at Garrett in confusion.
“Stay here, princess.”
I watch as he climbs out, disappearing behind the truck. A moment later, the door on my side swings open. He’s standing there, holding a worn waterproof blanket, his broad shoulders framed by the glow of the setting sun.
“Come on.”
With butterflies in my stomach, I take his hand, letting him help me down from the cab. He stops at the edge of a small hill and spreads the blanket out on the ground. “Thought you might want to see this properly,” he says, motioning to the setting sun. “There’s nothing quite like a sunset out here.”
I sit down gingerly, tucking my legs beneath me. Garrett is close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from him. His arm goes around my shoulder, and he pulls me against him.
We sit in silence. The sky is breathtaking. The colors shift and change as the sun dips closer to the horizon, painting the landscape in hues that seem almost too vivid to be real.
“I’ve seen a lot of sunsets out here,” Garrett says after a while, “but they never get old.”
“It’s beautiful.”
He turns to look at me, the intensity in his gaze makes my breath hitch.
“Sienna,” he says my name like he’s in some exquisite sort of pain. I know exactly how he feels.
I don’t know who moves first. Maybe it’s him, maybe it’s me. All I know is that one moment, we’re sitting there, a small space of air between us, and the next, his lips are on mine. The kiss is slow, tentative, as if he’s giving me time to pull away. But I don’t. I want this so, so much.
His hand comes up to cup my cheek, his palm calloused and warm. The world around us fades, the colors of the sunset blurring into nothing as my senses narrow to the feel of his lips, the rough graze of his beard, the faint scent of cedar and pine that clings to him.
I grab handfuls of his white t-shirt when his tongue prods at the seam of my lips, and I open to allow him access. His tongue sweeps in, sliding against mine, and a small noise of pleasure slips out of me. My head is spinning, my nipples hardening, an empty ache forming between my legs.
When we finally pull apart, I’m breathless, my heart pounding so hard I’m sure he can hear it. He rests his forehead against mine, his thumb brushing softly against my cheek.
“Been wantin’ to do that since the moment I saw you,” he murmurs.
I don’t know what to say. Words feel too small for everything I’m feeling right now. So instead, I lean into him, letting the warmth of his embrace comfort me. I want him so badly that I might combust, and I both hope he doesn’t notice how my body is responding to his, while also hoping he does. I’m not brave enough to make the first move, but I want him to touch me everywhere.
“Easy, princess.” Garrett’s hands run soothing paths up and down my back as I press against him. “Gotta take it slow with you, don’t I?”
“No.”
He laughs again and untangles me from him until we’re sitting, watching the last bits of the sunset once more. “Yes. But it will be worth it. Now watch. I don’t want you to miss the grand finale.”
He doesn’t kiss me again or touch me or anything . Garrett Hayes is a perfect gentleman, even when I want him to be the opposite.
Not long after, we pull into the parking lot of a fast food restaurant painted in garish red and gold. “Let’s get some dinner, princess.”
I’m still shaken from the kiss, and it makes me question everything that’s happened over the past few days. What in the world am I doing, running from an engagement just to fall into Garrett’s arms? My parents probably think I’m dead or abducted when I’m really making out with a trucker in the desert. The thought makes my stomach hurt, and the last thing I want is greasy food.
“I’m actually not feeling too hot,” I tell him. “I’m going to stay in here if that’s okay.”
He looks concerned, but nods once. “Okay, princess. I’ll bring you something back.”
Sliding onto the quilt in the sleeper cab, I reach for my phone. It’s been a dead weight in my purse for days, untouched and buried at the bottom. Garrett’s words about it being a tracking device were enough to scare me into leaving it alone, but now I’m plagued by conflicting thoughts. The kiss, and then the guilt of what my parents must be thinking, warring with each other.
My parents, my old life—it’s all so far away it’s like it isn’t real anymore. Mother and Father weren’t perfect parents, but I never doubted they loved me. If I can just tell them I’m okay, maybe this raging guilt will settle.
I flick the phone on, leaving it in airplane mode, and connect to the restaurant’s Wi-Fi. A flood of notifications crashes through the screen—texts, missed calls, voicemails, emails. I stare at the sheer number, my pulse starting to race. It’s overwhelming.
They must really think I’m dead, I think bitterly, scrolling through the sea of messages. Most of them are from my mother and father, alternating between desperation and anger. A handful are from friends, their tone a mix of confusion and concern. And then there’s Charles.
I ignore his messages, focusing on the ones from my mother. Her words tug at my heart.
Mom: Where are you? Please let us know you’re okay. We’re so worried.
Tears sting my eyes, and my fingers tremble as I start to type.
Me: I’m fine. I just needed to get away. Please don’t worry about me. I’ll reach out again soon.
I hit send before I can second-guess myself. My hand hovers over the Wi-Fi toggle, ready to shut out my old world again, but then I notice another text notification pop up on the top of the screen in real-time.
Charles: Got you.
Fear hits me, shockingly cold. The air leaves my lungs as I open the message. The text is brief, but the screenshot attached chills me to the bone. It’s a pinpoint location—my location—outside this very restaurant. I drop the phone like it’s burned me, my mind racing.
How? Can they track me through the Wi-Fi?
My heart slams against my ribs as panic takes over. I scramble to turn the phone off completely, my fingers fumbling in haste. My chest tightens more and more, and it’s a battle just to breathe. I feel just like I did the night I fled, there in the bathroom of my family home.
Charles knows where I am.
“They won’t let someone like you go easily,” Garrett said. I was thinking of my family at the time, but Garret was right and Charles is the one unwilling to let go.
The truck door creaks open, and I nearly scream. But it’s just Garrett, balancing a tray of food in one hand. His eyes go straight to my face, his easygoing expression shifting instantly to concern.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, setting the food down and climbing into the cab.
I try to speak, but the words stick in my throat like glue. My hands shake, and I feel tears threatening to spill over.
Garrett doesn’t hesitate. He kneels in front of me, his large hands wrapping around mine. “Christ, Sienna, you’re freezing.”
I swallow hard, forcing myself to speak. “Charles…he…he knows where I am.”
The anger that flashes in Garrett’s eyes is like a flash fire. “How?”
“I—” My voice falters. “I turned my phone on. Just for a second. I thought?—”
“You thought you could get away with it,” he finishes, his tone sharp. He exhales heavily, running a hand through his hair. “Damn it, Sienna.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, tears running hot down my face.
“Ah, hell, don’t cry, darlin’.” Garrett is still frustrated, but he tries to temper it. “We’ll fix it. But first, we’re ditching that phone. Now.”
I nod, the lump in my throat making it impossible to speak. He holds out his hand for my phone, and I give it to him, the pearl-pink device looking miniscule in his grip. Without another word, Garrett gets out of the truck and goes to the restaurant entrance. Through the window, I watch as he throws the phone away.
He’s getting ready to pull out of the parking lot when a sharp bolt of urgency hits me. “Wait. I…um…need to run in and use the bathroom.”
Garrett isn’t happy, but he sighs. “Just hurry. Please.”
I do as I’m told, and just five minutes later, we’re on the road again, fleeing from the location Charles managed to get.
The truck hums softly as Garrett guides it into the far corner of a truck stop, parking where it’s darkest. I’m usually asleep by this point, when Garrett finally decides it’s time for him to rest too, but sleep is nowhere to be found for me tonight. Still, I don’t move under my blanket, keeping my lids low, not wanting to disturb him.
The engine cuts off, and I hear him sigh heavily in the driver’s seat. He’s trying to be quiet, not wanting to wake me, but I’m strung tight like a wire. The adrenaline from Charles finding my location earlier has faded, but now the only thing I can think of is how far Garrett is willing to go to keep me safe.
That…and the kiss.
The memory of his lips against mine…ugh. Just the thought makes me feel all tingly again. I should let things go slow, like Garrett said, but I don’t want to . I want to be in control for once in my life.
Swallowing hard, I push myself on one elbow and peer through the curtain separating the sleeper cab from the front seat. Garrett sits in the driver’s chair, head leaned back, breathing slowly but not enough for him to actually be asleep.
“Garrett?” My voice is soft, hesitant.
He stiffens.“You should be asleep, princess.”
“I can’t stop thinking.”
He shifts out of the driver’s seat and climbs into the back with me. The sleeper cab feels even smaller with him in it, but I like it. “What’s on your mind?”
I swallow, fingers clutching the quilt like it’s a lifeline. “The kiss.”
His shoulders tense, and for a moment, he doesn’t say anything. Then he exhales slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well that isn’t what I expected you to say.”
“I just…” I bite my lip, unsure how to explain the whirlwind inside me. “It was amazing. I want you to kiss me again.”
He leans forward slightly, his rough hand covering mine. “I’m not made of iron, princess. I want to go as slow as you need me to.”
“What if I don’t need you to go slow at all?”
My heart beats wildly in my chest as the space between us seems to shrink. Garrett looms over me, his huge hand moving to cup my jaw, tilting my head to the side as he puts his mouth right to the shell of my ear. "How fast are we talking, princess?"
"Faster than this," I whisper, my body trembling with anticipation.
His low laugh is sinful, the heat of his breath sending sparks through me. "You sure?"
I nod, not trusting my voice. He moves then, shifting us so I'm lying down, and he's above me, bracing himself on his elbows. He's holding himself back from me, giving me one last chance to change my mind.
"Kiss me," I plead, and his mouth is on mine, hard and demanding.
Everything is fire, everything is heat. His lips, his hands, his skin. I gasp and moan beneath him, and he swallows each sound. He's everywhere, touching, kissing, taking. He's not gentle, not even close. His lips leave mine to trail across my cheek and down my throat. The scratch of his beard leaves a wake of goosebumps.
It isn't until his hand slides up my shirt that I remember not telling him something important—embarrassing, but important. "Garrett, wait!"
He pulls back immediately. "What's wrong?"
"So, maybe we do go a little slow..." I can't look him in the eyes. Oh, why in the hell didn't I tell him this earlier? "I'm…um…a virgin."
The silence stretches on for so long that I dare to peek at him. His face is unreadable, and then he's moving away, putting distance between us.
"Shit." The single word is loaded with so many emotions.
"I'm sorry, I should have told you."
"No." He scrubs a hand down his face. "Don't apologize. I'm not mad, I'm…" Garrett groans, and the sound is full of longing and misery in equal shares. "I'm more turned on than I've been in my life, Sienna. Fuck. You're choosing me and you're a virgin? I feel like I'm fucking dreaming."
I sit up, scooting closer to him. "You're not. And I do. Choose you, I mean. Can we still...you know...?"
He closes the distance between us in a flash, holding my chin between his thumb and forefinger. "Can I still make you come, Sienna? Is that what you're asking?"
My cheeks are on fire, and my mouth drops open. He smiles and leans closer, pressing his lips against mine, his tongue teasing my lower lip.
"Yes," I gasp, and he pushes me back on the bed.
His mouth moves across my cheek, then down my throat. Everywhere his lips touch, goosebumps erupt. "The answer is yes, but first I have one rule. When I'm fucking you, when I'm making you come, the only thing you can call me is Daddy."
My stomach flips and the air rushes out of my lungs.
"Now that I know the effect it has on you…" He chuckles darkly. "I mean it even more."
"W-why?"
"Because, princess, I'm going to give you everything you've ever needed. I'm going to provide for you, I'm going to protect you, and I'm going to make you come hard. I'm your Daddy, do you understand?"
My entire body trembles. He's looking down at me, eyes burning with a possessive fire. I've never seen this side of him. This dominant, demanding man who isn't asking, he's telling. I want him so badly, but...
"It's okay, princess." He presses a kiss to the corner of my mouth. "Say the words, and Daddy will take care of you."
I whimper, nodding my head. He's so much bigger than me. Stronger, taller, wider, and I should be scared, but I'm not. I'm...I'm excited. I only want to do whatever he says. "Y-yes, Daddy."
"Good. Now take off these clothes, princess. I want to see you bare."
I start pulling my shirt over my head. "All of them?"
He nods, his eyes never leaving me. "All of them."
With shaking hands, I obey. It's not easy to get my bra and panties off under his heavy gaze, but I manage. My nipples tighten in the cold air, and my hands go to cover myself, but he stops me, pushing them out of the way.
"Don't cover yourself from me. You're beautiful. Lie back."
I feel his words all the way down to my core. I do as he says, stretching out on the bed, and Garrett takes his time looking me over. He drags his eyes over my breasts, down my belly, and then my pussy, which is puffy and wet for him already. Being on display like this is terrifying and exhilarating all at once.
"Touch yourself."
My eyes snap up to his.
"Your tits, Sienna. Rub them for Daddy."
Slowly, I move my hands. It's not easy; being watched like this is nerve-wracking. My hands are clumsy as they knead the soft flesh. When I pinch my own nipples, it sends a shot of pleasure straight down.
"Mmmm, good girl. Now open those legs. Let Daddy see what's mine."
Oh God. He's going to make me touch myself. My body is hot, and the wetness between my thighs grows with each word out of his mouth. I slowly let my legs fall open, and he leans back, resting his weight on his hands.
"Good girl. Now I'm going to give you what you need, Sienna, but I'm going to give you a choice, darlin'. Mouth or fingers?"
My eyes widen. He wants me to choose? "I?—"
"Choose, baby."
"Mouth." The word is barely a whisper, and his answering smile is feral.
"That's my good girl. Daddy's going to make you come."
The second the words are out of his mouth, he's moving. His body covers mine, and he kisses me again. All his hard edges are gone, and the kiss is softer, sweeter, gentler. He's devouring me, and I'm melting beneath him.
My breath is coming in short pants, and he kisses a trail down my throat and across the top of my chest. He wraps his lips around a nipple, sucking hard and biting gently. It's too much and not enough. My hands tangle in his hair, trying to pull him closer.
"Patience, Sienna."
The warning is a rumble against my skin. His hand is sliding down my belly, and I know where it's headed. His fingers dip into my wet folds, and a soft cry escapes my lips. He's barely touched me, and I'm already close.
"You're so fucking wet." His words are reverent, and the look he gives me makes my toes curl.
He presses a finger against my clit, and fireworks explode behind my eyes.
"Garrett." His name is a breathless gasp.
"Daddy," he corrects. "You call me Daddy."
"Please." I'm shameless, begging for his touch.
"Such a good girl. You beg so pretty."
Then his finger is gone, and his mouth is on me. His beard is rough against the soft skin of my inner thighs. I've never felt anything like it. The pleasure is intense, overwhelming, and builds quickly. His mouth is wicked, his tongue circling my clit as he slips a thick finger inside me.
"Oh!" I'm so close, I'm right there.
"Not yet, princess. Hold it back."
"Please." The plea falls from my lips, but I do what he says, holding back the orgasm threatening to crash through me.
"You're doing so well. This might be uncomfortable for just a second, but I promise it will all be worth it."
Before I have time to think about what he's saying, he's sliding a second finger in. It's impossibly tight, and when he tries to push deep, something stops him, but he pushes through. I gasp at the sharp twinge of pain, but Garrett is sucking on my clit now, and the pleasure wins out, washing any unpleasantness away.
"There we go. That's better. You're perfect, baby. So goddamn tight. You feel incredible."
My fingers are twisted in his hair, holding him against me. My legs are spread wide, and he's between them, sucking and licking and fucking me with his fingers. He's right. The discomfort is gone, and the only thing left is need.
"Please." The word is a ragged cry. "Please, please, please, Daddy."
"Come, Sienna. Come all over Daddy's face."
The orgasm that hits is so powerful, it's almost painful. I writhe on the mattress, incoherent sounds and pleas falling from my lips. Waves and waves of pleasure wrack my body, and I'm lost in the bliss of it.
When it's over, I'm limp, completely spent.
"Fuck, baby. Look at me."
I force my eyes open. Garrett's face is wet, and his beard glistens. "That's enough for tonight, princess. I know you hate to hear this, but we really are going to take it slow."
"At least sleep back here with me tonight?"
Garrett hums in approval, pulling the blanket around me. "That I can do, princess."
I'm asleep in minutes, Garrett's warm body curled around mine, fully satisfied and hopelessly addicted to this man.