Page 15 of Broken Highway (Cult Boys #1)

SEVEN

Three days since he’s touched me.

Three straight nights we’ve been on the road.

He barely talks, opting instead to stare out at the road ahead.

And in turn, I find myself staring at him.

Watching him.

Always watching him.

Watching and waiting.

Waiting for him to change his mind.

Waiting for him to kick me to the curb.

In the pool, he said if he ever fucked me, I’d be gone.

But I’m not gone yet. I remind him of this once or twice a day. He can’t hide how much it irritates him when I say it, but he doesn’t respond in words. A squint here. A sneer there. Endless communication, yet no words ever leave his lips.

I think about his lips too often. Think about how he recoiled at first and then surrendered himself.

Think about how he devoured me with hunger, breathing life into me and then stealing it right back.

I look at his lips now, dry and cracked, and think about closing the distance between us.

Think about finding my way to him by leaning over the center console and taking what I want.

Taking what I need.

I found fleeting comfort in strangers a blowjob at a time.

The John’s were never ideal partners, but they offered the two things I desperately craved—cum-filled cocks and human touch.

Silas’ embrace only ever amounted to his fingers in my hair.

Tugging, pulling, and pushing as I swallowed him whole.

Sometimes, he’d lift me by the chin as he furiously stroked himself to release, shooting ropes of holy cum onto my face.

Noah gave me what I needed, and now he’s withholding.

The sky is unusually dark, with the moon hiding far behind heavy rain clouds on the precipice of breaking.

I’ve lost track of what day of the week it is, but it’s just a little after midnight and we only pass another car about every five minutes or so.

I watch each car too. Watch as they disappear into the distance behind us.

Softly exhale every time they don’t turn around.

I was na?ve to think I could run far enough away from my past that I’d never have to look over my shoulder again.

But the shadows of that place, and the people there, have branded my mind, body, and soul.

I’ll never escape it, no matter how far I run.

No matter how fast I run. What I did to Magnus will catch up to me someday soon, and I’ll pay the price for my transgressions.

Noah’s strong, both in body and will, but he’s no match for what I know is to come.

I can’t hide behind him as if he’s a soldier, because when push comes to shove, the two of us are nothing more than strangers on a never-ending joyride together.

I’d like to think he wouldn’t, but lessons I’ve learned along the way convince me he’d throw me to the wolves to save his own hide. It’s not something I’d blame him for.

And then I’m watching him again. Eye him up and down in his grease-stained wife beater tank.

Watch as the hem of his shirt rides up over his belt, offering a peak of the blue boxers he wears underneath his jeans.

Watch as he changes lanes, but for other reasons.

To stay awake, maybe? He shifts in his seat and lets out a loud, echoing yawn. Switches the arm he’s using to steer.

At the risk of irritating him, I decide to break the silence. “You want me to drive?”

He shoots me a sideways sneer.

“I know you didn’t sleep well last night, so I thought I’d ask.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Well, I’m still not quite as cat-like as you are. You’re a nocturnal animal, you know that?”

“I’m well aware my sleeping habits are out of the norm, but you knew that when you decided to hitch.”

“All I’m saying is that sometimes, in the middle of the afternoon, I can’t sleep.

And when I’m wide awake, sometimes I find myself looking in your general direction.

During said sideways glance earlier today, which is a very rare occurrence, I noticed you tossing and turning an awful lot.

Might have even thrown out a groan here and there. ”

He stares at the road ahead. “I know the art of minding your own business is generally lost on you but you should seriously try it sometime.”

“Were you dreaming about him last night? ”

“Kevin?”

That piques my interest. “So, your husband or ex-husband, or I don’t know, your widower, has a name?”

“Remember that minding your own damn business thing I alluded to about a half mile back?”

I decide to press my luck further, even though I’m already on thin ice. “What if I told you there’s a way to shut me up?”

He drops a hand to his crotch and adjusts his cock in his jeans.

“I’d rather wait until we get to where we’re going.

” He switches the hand he’s using to drive and bites into his lower lip.

“You so astutely guessed how tired I am. I can barely keep my eyes open. If you bring that pretty mouth over here, I don’t know if I’ll have the energy to keep this car between the lines. ”

I laugh softly, unable to decipher if he’s teasing me or being serious.

“I was thinking there’s another way you can get me to shut up.

Something that doesn’t require my mouth on your cock.

You know I don’t want to be an accessory for any crimes you may commit while driving under the influence of being tired. ”

“I thought your proposal was supposed to involve you talking less.”

“If you let me drive, I promise I won’t ask any more questions.”

He doesn’t laugh in my face as I expected him to. “If you wreck my car, I wreck you.”

I wish he would.

He downshifts and pulls over onto the side of the road.

He rips the emergency brake backwards. I’m not sure why, though.

The only time I thought you were supposed to use the emergency brake was if your normal brakes stopped working.

Must be a stick-shift thing. He glances in the rearview mirror before pushing the door open and climbing out, slamming it behind him.

I watch as he circles the front of the car, running a hand through his hair. He approaches my door and opens it for me. How chivalrous of him.

“Come on…” He gestures with his hand. “Get the fuck out.”

Turns out chivalry is in fact deader than a doornail. “Oh yes, Daddy. Talk dirty to me.”

He shakes his head with a pout. “Don’t do that. That word gives me the ick.”

“You sure have a lot of rules.”

“What can I say?” He reaches for my hand and guides me to my feet. “I run a tight ship.”

I dance my way around the front of the car, drumming my hands on the hood as I pass. When I slide into the driver seat, I find myself in a familiar place. Noah stretches the seatbelt over his chest as soon as he closes the door.

“You never wear your seatbelt,” I say.

“I’m not worried about wrecking when I’m driving.”

“Right, because you’re always in control.” I manage to start the car by applying pressure to the brake as I turn the key in the ignition. I reach for the shifter, and yep, that’s about all I know how to do. “So, I promised I wouldn’t ask any more questions…”

He turns to me with tired, heavy eyes.

“But how do I put this thing into drive?”

He groans as he drags his palms over his face. “That’s totally on me. My bad for forgetting you don’t know how to drive a fucking stick.” He pushes his door open. “Get out. We’re switching back.”

“No.” I grab him by the arm. “Teach me.”

“How is that going to help me get any sleep?”

“I’m a fast learner.”

“Yeah, I have very serious doubts that’s an accurate assessment of your learning abilities.”

I pout. “Please?”

He exhales or groans. I can’t really tell which. Either way, it’s not good. Defeated, I grab the door handle, but I’m stopped by his hand on mine. He guides my hand back to the shifter.

“Grip it like your life depends on it,” he says. “It’s easier if you feel every vibration. Be one with the stick.”

He caresses my hand and applies enough pressure to force my fingers to curl around the base of the knob. His fingers intertwine with mine, and it’s likely to be the closest I’ll ever get to holding someone’s hand. Another first for me, and he doesn’t have a fucking clue.

“There are three pedals instead of two. Starting from the left, there’s the clutch, the brake, and the accelerator. In order to shift, you need to have your foot on the clutch.”

Well, that explains why I couldn’t get the damn car to reverse out of the parking spot the other day.

“To get the car moving, you need to shift into first gear. To do this, you apply pressure to the clutch while slowly releasing the brake.” He guides my hand forward. “It’s a game of give and take. Your timing has to be perfect, otherwise the engine will stall.”

I do as told, feeling the tension in each pedal.

One lessens as the other increases, and it feels like a balancing act fit for a gymnast. My heart begins to race, praying I don’t rip the transmission apart.

There’s this inner desire to appease Noah.

One I can’t push away, and I haven’t been able to please him outside of the bedroom.

This is my chance.

I ready a sweaty grip on the steering wheel as Noah guides my hand forward, shifting into first just as I release the brakes. The car moves about seven inches before stalling with a sudden jerk and the sound of grinding gears.

In the split second it takes to shift my gaze to him out of the corner of the eye, he’s already staring at me.

He doesn’t scold me, though. Just cracks up in a silent laughter as he shields his eyes with one hand. “I forgot to tell you to release the fucking parking brake.”

“You’re either a maniac or you are in desperate need of a nap. Either way, I think we should find a motel sooner than later.” I throw my hands up in defeat. “You can teach me to drive your car another night.”

“I wouldn’t get your hopes up. It’s not likely you’ll find me in such a sleep-deprived state again. At least not to the point where I’ve lost my damn mind.”