Authors: Ashley Bartlett
Tags: #Fiction, #Lesbian, #Mystery & Detective, #General, #Romance, #Contemporary
• 156 •
Dirty Sex
“These guys must think we are really fucking stupid,” I said. Reese
glared at me. “Okay, we are sort of stupid. But you never told me that
some
Goodfellas
reject might be following us. Where does Christopher
get these tools from?”
Reese shrugged. I guess we weren’t talking about it.
Ryan texted again. He was on Fifteen going south. Still no tail that
he could see.
“Ryan’s in the clear,” I said.
“Good. We’re not. They switched cars again.”
“Awesome. Our exit is coming up.” I pointed. Reese followed my
directions to the hotel I’d picked out.
“Where the hell are we?”
“We’re visiting the Hoover Dam, honey. I know you always
wanted to go.” I used my douche bag, suburban husband voice.
Reese waited a beat, then said, “Always making my dreams come
true.”
We pulled into the parking lot. Our plan was sketchy at best. The
first part went fine. Reese and I checked into the hotel. I talked. Reese
smiled. I carried our mostly empty bags. Once we got into our room, I
got cold feet. Sort of.
Reese unpacked the one filled bag. I pulled a chair into the
bathroom and waited.
“You ready for this?” Reese perched on the counter.
I pulled my chair closer and sat down. “I guess.” Not at all. “It’ll
grow back, right?”
“Totally. You might even like it.” She threaded her fingers through
my hair as she talked. I was facing a wall so I didn’t know if she was
lying.
“Let’s do it.” I gave the go-ahead.
Methodically, Reese started trimming my hair close to my scalp.
It actually felt good. Mostly because I knew it was Reese playing with
my hair and I knew the legs pressed on either side of me were hers and I
knew it was her breath skittering across my neck to get rid of the fallen
hair. The electric razor switched on and Reese dragged it from my neck
to my forehead. The amount of fuzzy blond hair in my lap increased
with each stroke.
“There.” The razor was switched off. “Turn around. Let me make
sure I got all of it.”
• 157 •
AShley BArtlett
I stood and moved the chair against the far wall. I didn’t bother
looking at myself right away. Instead, I watched her face. That was the
only way I’d know if she liked it.
She smiled. “Hi.”
“You like?”
“Yeah, it’s a bit weird, you know? Kind of sexy though.” The
smile grew until it reached her eyes.
I glanced up at the mirror. It was weird. With my hair cropped so
close, I did look like a guy, a sort of pretty one, but a guy. My jaw was
way more pronounced and so were my cheekbones. It also made my
over bright eyes stand out.
“You really like it?” Experimentally, I ran my hand over my
buzzed head.
“Uh-huh.” She replaced my hand with hers. I stepped closer for
her to touch it. Reese’s eyes had gone to slate. Her legs automatically
wrapped around my hips as she pulled me down to kiss her. My
exposed scalp was really sensitive so her fingers drawing patterns was
just turning me on.
“That feels good.”
“How long till we have to meet Ryan?”
“Long enough.” I pushed my hands inside her skirt, shoving the
material high on her hips. Reese pulled my tank top up to suck my
nipple into her mouth. Damn, she was good at that. She yanked the
shirt over my head and tossed it to the floor. Then she wrapped her legs
around me.
Her underwear were soaked through already. I moved them aside
so I could push two fingers inside her.
“Oh, fuck.” Reese released my nipple long enough to whimper.
Then she moved to the other one. Hot muscles sucked on my fingers,
pulling me in. “Harder,” she said. So I used my body to thrust into her.
I braced my other hand to keep up the motion.
She let up on my nipples so she could kiss me. She kept her mouth
closed. Made me work to get her to open up. I licked her lip, just a little.
Kissed her soft and slow to balance the way I was fucking her.
Reese’s fingernails dug into the bare skin of my back, urging me
on, bordering on pain. When she neared climax those nails dragged
down, drawing blood, I was sure of it. She grabbed my ass, fumbled
with my jeans to get them open. I used my free hand to shove my pants
• 158 •
Dirty Sex
and underwear down. She was gonna come soon. Hell, I was gonna
come soon. And she wasn’t even touching me. Yet.
Reese kept one hand on my ass, kneading, squeezing. Her other
went between my legs. She was moaning into my mouth. Or was I?
Her fingers slid around my clit. Every time I thrust into her, her fingers
massaged me.
“Inside,” I whispered. “Please, Reese.”
“More, I want more,” was all she said.
I added a third finger. She groaned and lifted her hips. I leaned into
her, kissing her hard now. I was halfway on top of the counter with her.
My clit was twitching. I was so fucking wet, but still she wasn’t inside
me. I needed to come so bad. I was shaking now. So was she.
“Please, Reese,” I asked again. She still ignored me. Just grabbed
my ass harder. I pulled out of her, thrust back in. And again. And again.
“I’m gonna come,” she screamed, but it was too late. She was
already coming. Deep spasms wracked her body, making her curl up
into me. I drove into her one last time, milking it until the last second.
That was when she went inside me.
“Oh, fuck.” I wasn’t even sure I said it out loud.
She didn’t respond. Just edged my legs apart and started fucking
me fast and deep. I might have said something. I might have just
groaned. Reese kissed my neck, sucked on it. I sobbed.
“You can come now,” she said. My stomach got tight and I spent
into her hand. She slid forward on the counter. Tightened her legs
around me. Moved her hand from my ass to my back to keep me from
falling. I leaned into her, trying to breathe.
“You’re so beautiful,” I whispered into her hair. She laughed
softly. “We should probably go.”
“Yeah, but you need to shower.” Reese was already taking off her
shirt the rest of the way.
“So?”
“You might need help in there.” She pushed me back and slid off
the counter.
“What if Ryan calls?” I don’t know why I bothered to ask. I was
already kicking away my jeans.
She shrugged and turned on the water. “We better be fast.” I could
manage that.
• 159 •
AShley BArtlett
❖
The Ace bandage was itchy as hell. How did people wear these
all the time? Without realizing it, I reached to adjust it. Reese grabbed
my hand.
“Don’t you dare.”
“It’s itchy,” I said.
“So is my wig, but I’m not complaining. So deal.”
Reese had gone a honey brown. It was boring. And she was
wearing unobtrusive glasses. Jeans that were a little too tight. She had a
whole Middle America thing going on. I still wanted to fuck her though.
“Yes, honey.” I linked my fingers through hers.
We walked to the front desk. There was a different kid working.
That was a plus. Reese asked for the rental car we had reserved. It was
already in the lot waiting for us. Reese smiled. Did he know which
tours of the dam were the best? Yes, he had a few recommendations.
And brochures. Great, we loved brochures. Her boyfriend—I smiled—
just couldn’t wait to see it.
During their entire exchange, a thick-necked dude was chillin’ in
the lobby and watching us. But he was also watching everyone else. He
looked a little worried. We left. He didn’t follow us.
The lighter sedan was parked two spaces down from Reese’s
Mercedes. When we pulled out in our very own boring rental sedan,
they didn’t seem to care.
And then we were on the road. I drove. We took different freeways
this time. It took us about two hours to get to the obscene casino near
the Nevada border that Ryan had picked.
Reese spent the entire time studying our mirrors, but there was no
sign of Christopher’s little bitches.
I left Reese in the car to go pick up Ryan. Literally. When I walked
into the bar, it took me a second to realize the trashy blonde sitting by
herself was my boy. I got a beer so I’d blend. We made eye contact. He
smiled coyly.
Fuck, we were bad at this.
I waited a long five minutes before going over to sit at his table.
Up close, he was a train wreck. The eye makeup was perfect, but his
foundation was too thick and his lipstick was smeared.
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Dirty Sex
“You’re cute in like a lacking self-confidence sort of way,” I said
quietly.
He grinned as if it were a compliment. “Blow me.”
“How long do you think it would take me to pick you up?”
“My self-confidence doesn’t think it will take too long.”
“Yeah, the makeup really says ‘my daddy never loved me.’ And
the outfit. Dude, Walmart much?”
He’d been going for the same look as Reese. But his jeans were a
little too loose. And his top was too tight. Off the rack had never looked
worse.
“It’s good my face makes up for it.”
It did. There was a pretty face under all that disguise. But I wasn’t
going to tell him that.
“This bar is depressing. Wanna get out of here?” I asked.
“Oh yeah. You’re so hot I can barely contain myself.”
“You know it, girl.”
“Hey, I’m a lady.” He pretended to be offended. It didn’t work.
I didn’t think I could pull off offering my arm to him so I put my
arm around his waist instead. The walk to the door and into the evening
air was the longest of my life. We were pretending to flirt and look like
we wanted to jump each other. But animal attraction had never entered
our relationship and we were bad actors. Also, he was four inches taller
than me. It was awkward.
Reese was stretched out in the backseat reading a book. I opened
Ryan’s door and helped him in. Reese started laughing.
“Fuck you. I’m pretty,” Ryan said.
“Sure you are.” She laughed some more.
I shut his door and went around to my own. When I got in, they
were full-on arguing about how pretty he was. I was leaning toward
Reese’s side, but I wasn’t going to tell them that.
It was a long ride back to Vegas.
• 161 •
• 162 •
Dirty Sex
There was some begging and a lot of complaining. Ryan even
bordered on crying for a second. Reese finally relented though.
“Okay, fine. Just shut up.”
“Yes.” Ryan gave me a high five.
“But I’m setting it up, you aren’t buying it, and we are not taking
it with us when we leave.” Reese was mean.
“But we can get some weed?” Ryan wanted to make sure.
“Yeah, we’ll get you some weed.” Reese turned away, only slightly
disgusted. The door of her room shut behind her.
“She’s kind of touchy.” Ryan flopped down onto the couch. “I
think she just gave up so she could get out of this damn room.”
“Probably.” I took the other end of the couch and put my bare feet
on his chest.
“Gross.” He dragged his finger down the arch of my foot. It tickled
like hell so I brought my heel down hard into his ribs. “Bitch.” He
grabbed my ankle and yanked me closer. It only took him a second to
jump up and restrain my hands above my head. It actually hurt because
my arms and shoulders were still tender.
“Let me go.” I struggled against the weight of his body. The boy
was surprisingly ripped.
“Hell no.” Ryan started tickling me.
“Stop it,” I screamed, but I was laughing pretty hard. With a good
jerk of my hips, I rolled him onto the floor. He pulled me after him. We
wrestled for a couple minutes, each trying to pin the other.
• 163 •
AShley BArtlett
Reese came out of her room and stared. Ryan had me on my
stomach and he was half lying on top of me. I had my arm twisted
back at an uncomfortable angle around his neck. Our legs were twined
together as I tried to kick him off. We were both breathing hard.
“Hey.” I grinned at Reese. She didn’t look amused.
Ryan used my moment of weakness to duck his head out from
under my arm. He shifted until I was trapped under him.
“I win,” Ryan said. Then he rolled off of me.
“Douche,” I said.
“What is wrong with you guys?”
“We’re bored, buttercup,” I said.
“It’s been five days. In this room. Five days.” Ryan was a little
fixated.
“We all agreed to lay low.” She said it all slow as if we were dumb.
“Wrestling is cheap entertainment,” I tried to explain.
“If you’re a seven-year-old.” So mean.
“I stopped maturing at seven.” Ryan giggled. “Ask all my ex-
girlfriends.”
“Same here,” I agreed with Ryan. Reese gave me a look that was
pure disdain. It made me horny. “I love when you look at me like that.”
“Get up,” she said. “You need to get dressed.”
“Whatever you say, babe.” More disdain.
“I wanna go.” Ryan started whimpering.
“No.”
“Why not?” Maybe Ryan really did stop maturing at seven.
“I don’t trust you.” Reese could be brutal. “If you meet the dealer,