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CONNOR

W e looked at each other, and all I could see was his intense gaze as he stared into my eyes. He seemed to lose some of the color in his face. It was almost disconcerting, not scary, but it made me think about what could be going through his head . Am I safe in this situation I’ve put myself in? I opened my mouth to speak but shut it, trying to organize my thoughts. Is he having second thoughts about giving me a ride and thinking of his own safety? Once again, his eyes darted back and forth.

Finally, I decided the best course of action should be gratitude. “Thank you so much for the ride. You’re a lifesaver,” I said with a big smile and an extended hand to shake his. He seemed to come back to his senses, seeing my hand thrust before him, and as color returned to his cheeks, he took it in a strong grip that lingered longer than normal.

“The name’s Connor,” I said with enthusiasm. He smiled, looking down at our hands and then back to me.

“Mason. And you’re welcome. Pleased to meet you, Connor,” he replied.

The effortless way he said it was reassuring, his soothing baritone carrying a warmth that resonated within me. The subtle electricity that sparked between our joined hands only heightened our connection. I liked it.

My thoughts gravitated to how Mason might feel under my hands and what his lips would taste like. My heart rate quickened, and I felt a sudden stirring in my cargo shorts. We finally released our grip, and I settled back in the seat, trying to get rid of my lustful thoughts and hoping he didn’t see me flush or notice the slight tenting of my shorts.

As Mason settled back on the road quickly, I took it upon myself to assess him. I’d already deciphered his striking facial features from outside the cab window and was equally impressed with his overall appearance. His broad shoulders, strong forearms skillfully guiding the semi’s steering wheel, and his lean, muscular build pushed all my arousal buttons. A fitted blue polo shirt highlighted his steely blue eyes, making them even more striking. Yes, I’d really like to get my hands on him.

I wasn’t sure of his age, but I pegged him in his mid-forties. He looked over six feet, making him taller than me by a couple of inches. I liked bigger guys. He must like football since he was sporting a ball cap with a San Francisco football logo. I was a football fan too, so I tucked that piece of information away for a future conversation.

“So, what are you studying in school?” he asked, briefly glancing from the highway.

“I’m going for my MBA, and it’s my first year in grad school,” I said cheerfully, liking that he was taking an interest and we wouldn’t be traveling in complete silence. “I’m hoping to own or run a business in the future, either in import/export or something involving transportation. We live in such a global market that I figure it might open doors, even international career options.”

Mason nodded, and I noticed he looked my way again. “Smart,” he said.

I went with that remark and said, “Yes…I am!” with a wink in his direction. He gave a low chuckle, realizing what he’d said could be taken as a smart move for a career or that I was intelligent.

“Oh, and a smart ass, too!” he said with no malice and a quick laugh.

“I can be. It keeps me from getting too serious,” I said happily to keep the conversation light. “I think having a business degree works in any field, and I want to keep my options open for future employment. Once I get my feet wet in the ‘real world,’ I can decide what direction to pursue.”

I was hoping I came across as intelligent. Mason was easy to talk to and easy on the eyes, so I wanted our brief encounter to be enjoyable. He didn’t seem like a stereotypical truck driver, and the way he spoke suggested he had a solid education. Intelligent, handsome, older men had always turned me on. I’d only had sex with guys my age once I got to college, but this trucker captivated me and stirred my libido.

Mason, being older, made me think of things I wanted him to do to me. I’d recently realized I was more the submissive type, and a man like Mason taking control and dominating me, fucking me, was a major turn-on. I liked the idea of a man being a little rough and manhandling me, and I felt the tightness in my shorts again as my thoughts raced.

“How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking, twenty-one, twenty-two?” Mason asked, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I looked at him as he looked straight ahead. “I’ll be twenty-two in a couple of months.”

“Hmmm”, he muttered.

“Why the hmmm?” I asked. “You don’t believe me?”

“No, it’s not that. I guess I’m surprised you have a life plan at such a young age,” he said. “I have an undergraduate degree in business but didn’t have a plan or even an inkling as to what I wanted to do with it once I graduated. I’m just impressed with your focus.”

I felt proud, considering I’d always been driven as a student and was a Type A personality. I’d always been that way, the total opposite of my older brother. Mom raised two boys, completely opposite from each other in how we approached life goals.

“Well, thank you,” I said, looking back at him, pleased at the compliment. Mason smiled and said we’d be coming up on La Grande in about ten minutes. I was surprised how quickly we’d got there. My sense of time must have been skewed after hiking most of the day. If only walking were effortless!

The rest of the ride was in comfortable silence other than the pop hits from the rig’s stereo. My musical tastes were more skewed toward electronic dance music, but I wasn’t about to make him change what was playing.

We approached La Grande after exiting I-84 onto Highway 30. Mason obviously knew the town's layout quite well. I figured he’d been here before, so I gave him the address of the graduate student dorm, and he reprogrammed the GPS. He’d mentioned he needed to make a quick delivery in town, and I was hoping it wasn’t taking us too far out of his way.

We pulled up to the shady side of the street close to the dorms and brought the semi to a stop, keeping the engine running. “Here ya go,” he said with an easy smile. “Looks like university dorms to me.”

I didn’t want our short ride and conversation to end since we’d had such a comfortable exchange. Plus, he was a feast of eye candy, making the journey much more enjoyable. I turned to face him and stuck out my hand again, hoping for another long physical connection. “Thank you, Mason. Again, you’re a lifesaver, and I really appreciate you giving me a ride.” And yes, I’d ride you anytime. I made sure that thought stayed in my head.

Again, he took my hand firmly, holding it steady between us. “I wish you all the best, Connor. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders, and I have no doubt you’ll accomplish great things. Good luck this year.”

The urge to throw my arms around his neck and pull him close surged through me as soon as he said those words. I could almost feel what it would be like to place my head against his neck, breathing in his masculine scent. The brief encounter awakened more in me than I’d ever experienced, and I savored the moment, unwilling to let it slip away. Just being near him made my head swim. I hadn’t been physical with anyone for quite some time since I had been so busy in the last year of my undergraduate studies. His manliness was intoxicating, and although it was hot out, I felt myself flush looking at him.

I reluctantly let go of his hand and opened the door as he helped me retrieve my pack from behind the seat. I stepped down, hauled the heavy monstrosity off the passenger seat, and placed it next to me on the sidewalk.

Before closing the door, I glanced up at him, raised my hand in a quick wave, and said, “Drive safe, and thanks again.” Mason smiled back and nodded as his handsome image disappeared behind the closing cab door.

The semi pulled away from the curb, and I watched it slowly drive down the street and turn out of sight. My heart was heavy from saying goodbye. I’d made it to campus in plenty of time but felt sad about how quickly the rest of my day had gone.

I was happy to be here, yet an ache lingered in my chest—a bittersweet feeling left behind by that fleeting connection with Mason. The yearning was subtle but persistent, a reminder that some connections, no matter how brief, have a way of leaving an impression.