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?
Feedback, as always, to the address in my profile.
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.
* * *