My Tow Driver Found Me at 2 A.M., and Home Could Wait novel · Chapter 4 of 24

Chapter 4: The Salvage Yard

He dropped the pickup off the hook at the back of the yard, and before the chain stopped swinging he had me by the front of the jacket.

The security light buzzed on its pole above us.

Crushed cars stood in rows to either side, stacked three high, and the ground was gravel and spilled oil.

"Here," I said.

"Here?"

"Right here. Right now, before I think."

He walked me backward until my hips hit the front of a wrecked Ford F-150.

Its hood was crumpled up at one corner, and the paint had gone to rust in the shape of a handprint.

He put both hands on my ribs and lifted me, and set me on the hood.

The metal was cold through my jeans and colder through my shirt when he laid me back.

I felt the dents against my shoulder blades.

I looked up at the light, and a moth threw itself at it, over and over.

"Jeans," Levi said.

I got my boots off with my feet against the bumper and I got my jeans down my legs.

He pulled one leg free and left the other hanging at my ankle.

The ring was in the pocket, pressed against my hip bone, a hard little circle.

I had put it there at the bunk-room door without deciding to.

I did not think about it again for a while.

He stepped between my thighs.

He stood there in the cold light with his Carhartt open and his hands at his belt, looking down at me.

"I want to tell you what I'm going to do," he said.

My stomach dropped.

"In the truck I didn't say anything," he said. "You didn't want me to. Do you want me to now?"

"Yes."

"I'm going to fuck you on this hood until you can't feel your feet. You're going to take it. And you're going to be loud, because there's nobody for two miles and I want to hear every one."

I couldn't speak.

My whole body had gone tight and hot.

He got his jeans open and shoved them down, and he was hard and heavy in his hand.

He stroked himself once, twice, with his eyes on me.

"Say you want it."

"I want it," I said.

"Say what."

"Your cock. I want your cock in me. Now."

He laid his left hand flat on my breastbone, over my shirt, and held me down.

It was a big hand, hot even through the cotton.

It pinned me to the hood so completely I couldn't have sat up if I'd tried.

With the other hand he guided himself to me and pushed in.

I cried out.

I was already wet from the truck ride and the dark and the sound of his voice.

He went in deep in one slow shove and stopped with his hips against my thighs.

"Fuck," he said. "Look at you."

I looked at him.

His face was hard and flushed under the light, and a muscle jumped in his jaw.

"Take it," he said, and pulled back and drove in.

He fucked me hard.

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