Hell in a Handbasket - The Journey (19 page)

I could feel
Ryder's left hand down on me but he wasn't doing anything to me. With my left
hand, I reached down to see if I could tell what he was doing. I trailed my
hand down his arm and onto his hand. He was holding it down over my mound,
feeling his shaft impale me over and over again. I groaned deep as I got a
clear and vivid visual of his hand on me and his cock in me. The visual took me
even higher. My body rejoiced its approval by rocking even more wildly. I began
to stroke Ryder's left hand as it observed my impalement. My right hand stroked
and rubbed the console. The higher I climbed, the more animated I became and
the faster my hands stroked. I was so close. Ryder took his left hand and with
his arm pinned me down again. I was so frustrated, I began to shake.

Ryder leaned into
me, nuzzled my neck, and murmured. "Do you trust me, Maeve?"

"Uhn…hunh…"
I couldn't think straight. I was having trouble understanding why he would be
asking me that now.

He nuzzled my
neck again and softly mouthed, "Give it to me, Maeve,
ride
me hard."

I began thrusting
and rocking again. Ryder's left hand once again went to my mound to feel my
impalement, and mine went as well. I tried to move my left hand to rub my clit,
but Ryder wouldn't let me. He held my hand over my mound, only allowing me to
feel him slipping in and out of me. He began loving my right breast again with
his right hand. He licked and nipped my neck and just behind my ear. It caused
ripples of pleasure to hit my core.

Ryder mumbled
into my ear. "Kiss me, Maeve."

I had to twist
some to accommodate him. The kiss was electrifying. I felt jolts of current all
the way down to my toes. I felt Ryder stroke my right hand and arm and it only
added to the intensity and to my pleasure. He slid my hand back and forth along
the console, mimicking the movements I had been making earlier.

After we made a
few strokes on the console, he guided my hand to the shifter. My hand froze and
so did his. But his tongue continued to excite my mouth and my body. He began
thrusting and urging me closer to an intense orgasm. It didn't even register
that he was still making my hand stroke the shifter. I was getting closer and
closer and he gripped me tight with his left arm again pinning me to him.

"Put your
left hand behind my head." His murmurs tickled and teased my boiling
blood. I was so hot right then he could have told me to get out of the car and
start dancing and I probably would have. "Put your right hand on the top
of the dash." More murmurs, more tickling, more boiling.

Without question,
I obeyed. Now I was slightly turned towards Ryder and the driver door.

"Look at
me."
murmur, murmur, boil
.

It was a real
effort to open my eyes. His eyes were nearly black they had grown so dark and
his smile jolted me to my core. My eyes were locked on his.

"We're gonna
shift over a little. Trust me, sweetheart." His voice was a hiss of hot gravel
and my pussy clenched from the sound of it. My breath caught in my chest and I
moaned in its final escape.

We shifted barely
over toward the passenger side, the movement was so small.

He moved his
hands to my hips and lifted me up off him. I heard a plop which told me we were
no longer connected. And I groaned, displeased.

He eased my hips
and body over the console. I felt the shifter as it grazed my ass and mound yet
it didn't seem to register in my mind.

It was during
this moment that he murmured, "Kiss me, Maeve."

I leaned into
him. He kissed me with abandonment and his kiss swept away all thoughts from my
mind. With his right hand, he cradled my backside, bracing me. With his left
hand he began stroking and fondling my labia and opening. He gathered some of
my juices and carried it up to my clit. I gasped and moaned at the pleasure of
his movement. He moved his fingers back to my opening and slid two of them just
inside of me. Instinctively I tried to lower myself to get him to put more of
his fingers into me.

I didn't realize
the shifter was at my opening until I felt it sliding into me. It was wide and
hard and felt so good. The shifter was bent backwards about halfway down, so it
fiercely rubbed the side wall of my channel. It was a new and unusual feeling
and I liked it.

Ryder moved his
right hand to my breast and began rubbing me, mimicking my rocking on the
shifter. My breathing and heart rate increased rapidly, I could feel I was
getting close and once again Ryder stopped his movements and mine. I looked at
him and whimpered with utter disbelief occupying my entire being. My
frustration level was extremely high as was the boiling point of my blood.

"Maeve,
sweetheart, I know you're frustrated…"

"Is that why
you keep stopping me?"

"Not this
time, no…I want you to turn around and face the backseat, but I want you to try
and stay on the shifter."

I was quite
certain that he had bumped his head, and had a concussion.

Ryder grabbed my
waist and eased me around. Now the shifter was rubbing the front wall and
immediately I felt like I was going to come. Ryder wouldn't let me move yet. He
seemed to want me in a certain position. He placed my left knee on the
passenger seat and my right knee on his seat. As he stroked my right leg, I
heard his gravelly voice, barely above a whisper.

"Lean down
on the console and place your hands either on the floorboard or the backseat.
Whichever is easiest for
you.
"

I did as he
instructed. My arms were too short for me to get any kind of leverage on the
seat. Luckily, there's this hump which runs from beneath the console to the
underside of the backseat. I placed my hands together on top of that hump.

My nipples were
brushing the console and the rough texture excited them, causing them to
harden.

He leaned over
and trailed kisses up my right leg and across my ass cheek. The feeling was
more than I could handle and I began bucking.

"That's it
baby…"

"Oh.
God…Ryder…Ohhhhhh…Godddd…"

"Just let
go, sweetheart…" He murmured into the skin of my back "Fuck the
gearshift baby…"

"Ooohhh…"

"That's it,
fuck my
car…" more murmured kisses, "My car's
making you come
…"

"Godddddddd…"

And then the
lights went out.

Chapter Eleven

My eyes started to flutter. I felt like I was lying on a
solid yet fluffy cloud. I compelled my eyes to open a bit more and realized I
was in a room. A very large, very nice room and I
was
on a couch. I pushed myself up into a sitting position and saw Ryder sitting
across from me in a wing backed chair.

He leaned forward with true concern in his eyes. "Are
you okay?"

"I think so," I tried to clear my head and
remember what had happened and how I got into the house. I just couldn't seem
to clear the fog. "What happened?"

"What do you remember?"

"I can't seem to remember much of anything. My head
really hurts. Did I hit my head and pass out?"

"Something
like
that. Here, I
think we need to rehydrate you." He held out his hand and offered me a
glass of orange juice.

"I can’t drink that, I’m allergic." I tried to
shake my head and it looked like I was drunk, my coordination was so off.

"Well, I don't want to give you anything alcoholic.
So, let me think of what I have to offer you. I would prefer to give you
something other than water."

"Why?"

"Because I
want to give you something that
has nutrients
in it.
So, let‘s see…I have grape juice?"

"Do you have pomegranate juice?"

"No…pineapple juice?"

"Allergic, sorry.
Acai berry juice?"

"No…I have Gatorade…"

"What flavor?"

"Fruit Punch…"

"I'll take that." I said with a very lopsided
grin.

Ryder returned with a large bottle of fruit punch flavored
Gatorade. He removed the top and handed it to me.

I took a big swig and started to choke. Ryder jumped up to
pat me on the back.

"Whoa there champ, take it easy. Little sips for
now." His grin was comforting and contagious. I smiled back at him and
nodded.

Ryder returned to his chair. I sipped my drink as I took in
the room. The couch was facing a coffee table and two wing backed chairs.
Behind the chairs was an enormous fireplace which housed a gloriously raging
fire. Above the fireplace was a mantle that was home to some pictures. They
looked like they might be family photos. I figured I would take a closer look
at them once the rest of my body decided to play along. To my left was a large
window, which was covered in gauzy sheers with heavy drapes framing it. To my
right was a set of French doors also covered by the same gauzy sheers and
framed by the same heavy drapes.

I looked back at Ryder and noticed he was watching me very
intently. I blinked a few times but didn't say anything.

"Are you feeling any better?"

"Some…thank you." I nodded.

"So, what do you remember?"

"Um…I'm
still a little foggy. Can you help me out some?"

"Do you
remember the car?"

My face split into a fierce grin. "Yes, I do…"

"Do you remember being in the back seat?"

"I do…"

"And the front seat?"

"Uh-hum."

"And the personal massager?"

I must have looked utterly lost because he chuckled.

"The gearshift?"

I gasped and my face blistered from the angry blush which
overtook it. "Oh. My.
God.
I can't believe I did
that! But…um…that's where…things go foggy."

"They should, that's when you passed out. And I
brought you in here." He gestured to the couch.

Although what I could remember had been unbelievably good,
I needed to change the subject and fast. There were some things which bothered
me and I needed answers.

"Um…Ryder?"

"Yes, Maeve?"

"Is there…is there anything else I should know about
you?"

Ryder looked at me, got a slight frown to his face, got up,
went to the fireplace mantle, and brought back two of the pictures which had
been sitting up there. He sat down on the coffee table, and handed my one of
the pictures. It was a picture of Tom from the airport where Ryder and I had
first met. I looked up at him quizzically. I lazily shook my head.

"Tom is my cousin."

"Oh…That explains his ease in letting you use his
office…"

I handed the picture back to him, and he set it behind him
on the coffee table.

I sat there expectantly. He reached forward and tried to
take my Gatorade bottle away from me. I clutched my Gatorade tight to my chest.

Ryder chuckled. "Your drink is safe…" he took my
left hand, and showed me a picture of Gertrude.

"Gertrude?" I was shocked, confused, and a bit
upset.

"Gertrude is my grandmother." Ryder looked
scared.

"I can't believe that not only did you use your
grandmother to score but I really can't believe that she would go along with
such a thing. She seemed so sweet. And she was your willing wing man?" I
was pissed.

Ryder's smile was
sheepish. "Gertie had no idea where this would go. She just wanted me to
find a nice girl and settle down. Gertie had become enamored with you on the
first plane ride, and the more you two talked, the more she liked you. And of
course; your comment about writing smut and seeing Gertie’s face was
hilarious."

"Oh God.
I can't believe I told your grandmother that I write
porn."

Ryder laughed at me. "Yes, you did, and her reaction
was fabulous. Now, drink more of your Gatorade, Maeve. I want to give you a
tour of the house and you need to be rehydrated."

* * * *

The first room Ryder took me to see was the kitchen, which
was just beyond the living room.

The kitchen was really something. The room was huge. To my
left was a wall of doors. One of them was slightly ajar, showing a large
pantry. To my right was an area where he had a small table and four chairs
surrounding it. Beyond the table and chairs was another set of French doors.
Only the gauzy sheers covered this set. The walls of the kitchen were painted a
soft, barely there baby blue. The cabinets were white with blue tinted, rippled
inlaid glass. The counter
tops were a white marble with blue veins. The
appliances were white enamel. In the middle of the kitchen was a two-tiered
island. The top tier was high enough to be used as a table or bar as it had
four bar-stools just under the edge. The second tier was lower. I'm not sure
what its main purpose was. The top of it came to just below my hips. I decided
to set my drink down on the lower portion of the island and it fell over the
opposite edge. I bent over the island top to try to catch it. Ryder retrieved
it off the floor but told me to stay just as I was. I had a sudden flash
back
to being bent over the desk in his office and my skin flushed. I was so hoping
that he was not only thinking the same thing, but was planning on a repeat
performance.