Hi again, everybody! I promise I'll stop doing that just as soon as it stops being funny. Once again, I'll make this brief: This is a sex story. If you're under the age of 18 or live in a part of the world that doesn't let you read sex stories, don't read this. Cause it's a sex story, remember?
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LA Aces β Chapter 2: Maid in America
* * *
"Take this left up here."
"But the airport's on the right."
"I know." I looked at her and raised my eyebrow. She looked back at me, reading my expression through the dark lenses of her sunglasses. "We're not going to the airport." I opened my mouth to ask the obvious question, but she continued. "You missed the turn."
"What? Shit!" I turned back to the road just in time to see the on-ramp Katharine wanted me to take fly by on the left. I sighed. "Okay. Not a problem. I am, if nothing else, a master of the U-turn by elaborate and questionably-legal means." I snickered to myself as I started demonstrating this skill. Katharine smiled.
"And you're a good fuck."
"And I'm a good fuck. If you say so."
"So," I started, after managing both to get us in the direction she wanted to go and not get pulled over or killed doing it, "since we're not going to the airport, where are we going?"
"We're going to LA."
"No, I mean now. Where are we going now?"
She looked at me with a sort of "what are you, stupid?" expression and repeated herself, slowly, as if she was speaking to someone who didn't understand English. "We're going to Los Angeles."
It dawned on me, and I couldn't believe it. "You mean we're driving?"
"Yeah." She looked like she had restrained the urge to add a "duh" at the end.
"Katharine...it's three hundred miles!"
She nodded, quickly replying, "Uh-huh." I stared at her, mouth agape, hoping against hope that she was kidding. She looked at me, incredulous. "What? So it's three hundred miles, what's the big deal?"
"Well, one, it's three hundred miles. Two, it's three hundred miles through the desert. Three, it's three hundred miles through the desert when it's something like three hundred degrees. Four-"
She cut me off. "Four, it's three hundred miles through the three hundred-degree desert, and you get to drive a sweet-ass car for every last one of them. Five, you get to spend these three hundred miles in the three hundred-degree desert driving this sweet-ass car with me, your sweet-ass girlfriend." She smiled as she said the last part, putting her head on my shoulder. Even though they were behind dark sunglasses, I could imagine her batting her eyes at me, and the thought was enough to make me melt. I smiled.
"Well, you do have a pretty sweet ass..."
"That's the spirit!"
Now that we were set on our destination, we both fell silent. Katharine put in a CD, not one of hers (I recognized the voice of Britney Spears on one track), while I took time to reflect on our escape from my apartment building. It hadn't been much of an escape, really, no bars or guards or anything like that, but Katharine had seemed convinced that we were going to be ambushed by the press at any minute. It was very uncharacteristic of her, at least what I knew of her; she had seemed so eager to pose and show off for the cameras before we hooked up. But now she had gone out of her way to conceal herself, hiding her eyes behind dark sunglasses and covering her hair with a cowboy hat.
Maybe I was reading too much into it, and she had just chosen a look; the hat certainly fit in well with the pink blouse she was wearing, tied to show off both midriff and cleavage. And the white of the hat perfectly matched the white shorts she wore, just barely covering the sweet ass I was very much looking forward to investigating further. She topped it off with a pair of knee-length high-heeled boots, the kind of shoes that I knew had to hurt, but if she was willing to wear them I wasn't willing to stop her. My jaw literally dropped when I saw her, and I did not manage to pick it up again for several minutes. She had just smiled, and apparently I had given just the reaction she was looking for.
My attention was snapped back to the present as I felt Katharine put her head back on my shoulder. We were the only car on the road, now, and any semblance of civilization had been replaced with a whole lot of nothing, desert punctuated by the occasional billboard or road sign as far as the eye could see. I checked the gas gauge and saw that we were still doing fine, then I thanked God that Katharine had had the foresight to suggest we fill up before hitting the road.
"So...tell me about yourself, Nick...Nick...that's a good place to start. What's your last name?" I turned my head to look at her, and was once again struck by how sexy she looked. She had repositioned herself so that her head was resting on my shoulder and her feet rested on the open window frame, right leg crossed over left. She had tossed the hat down onto the floor in front of her, and the wind whipped through her hair. I swallowed, and then mentally slapped myself back to attention.
"Greenwood."
"Okay, then, Mr. Nick Greenwood...what do you do?"
"Well, until Little Miss 'Show Off Her Tits And Get Me All Flustered' showed off her tits and got me all flustered, I played poker. Then you showed up; after that I pretty much just acted as a human ATM."
"Hmm...I must be bad luck. You should probably stay away from me." She giggled; I remembered a time when I hated that laugh, but now it was simply an endearing trait. I laughed a bit as well, taking my right hand off the wheel to pull her closer to me. She sighed contentedly, almost a purr, and stayed like that until she drifted off to sleep.
* * *
It was about an hour later that she woke up. I had filled the car up while she was asleep, counting myself lucky that the roar of the engine when it started didn't wake her. She stirred, still half-asleep, but lifted her head from my shoulder and opened my eyes after I accidentally drove over a pothole.
"Mmm...where are we?" She yawned.
"I think we crossed into California about twenty minutes ago."
Suddenly, she screamed. Out of instinct, I slammed on the brakes, bringing the car to a screeching halt. Luckily, we were still the only people on the road.
"What? What is it?" I looked around, expecting to see a dead animal or a psycho killer with a chainsaw.
"Look at my legs!" Katharine was frantically searching through the glove compartment, and I could see that she had gotten a little sunburned on her legs. I was relieved that we weren't killers or about to be killed, plus I needed to get my heart rate down, so I let out a little laugh. Mistake. "You think it's FUNNY?!?" She had taken off the glasses to help her search, and I could see panic turning to rage in her eyes.
"No, Kat, it's not that. I just..." I swallowed, carefully choosing my words. "I just thought, when you screamed, that we were going to die. Not thatβ"
"Not that I could have skin cancer?!? Not that I have a shoot in three days?!? Not that I'm gonna have horrible tan lines for the rest of the month?!? Argh!"
"Kat...Katharine...calm down. Here, let me." She had found the sunscreen, and seemingly squirted half the bottle into her palm, ready to apply it to her legs. I took the bottle from her, and got her to dump the sunscreen from her hands into mine. I then dumped it outside the car.
"What are you doing?"
"Putting on sunscreen isn't going to make the sunburn go away, okay?" She pouted, looking terrified. I shifted the car into park and turned it off as I continued. "Just trust me. We need to put on just enough so that the burn doesn't get any worse before we get to LA. Now, recline the seat and sit up on the headrest."
She did as I asked, and I positioned myself so that I was sitting on my knees on the edge of her seat. She scooted back, and extended her left leg.
"Look, the burn's not even that bad," I told her. It was true; while her leg was a little browner than it had been when we left, you could hardly call it red. I put a small amount of sunscreen in my left palm and rubbed it on her knee; she gasped, and I pulled back. "What's wrong? Is it hot?"
"No...it's kinda cold." I started rubbing the sunscreen in, and she bit her lip. I put some on my other hand, and rubbed it onto her right knee. She bit harder, then started looking around us, seemingly checking to make sure we really were alone in the middle of the desert. "Could you maybe go a little higher?"
I could hear the unspoken desire in her voice; if she was trying to hide it, she was a bad actress. I decided to be coy, very slowly working my up to her thighs. She gasped when I hit a spot she liked, and I immediately moved away from it. She especially seemed to enjoy when I rubbed the insides of her thighs, so I deliberately made slow, long circles along the outside, occasionally flirting with the inside but never actually going there.