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American Honey

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I think he knows I am, but I don’t think the whiskey in him cares enough to make him stop. He gives up caring and helps me out by pushing his jeans and boxers down around his ankles. He tips his hat up slightly but not enough that I can see his eyes, just shadows and his lips, but it’s enough. I’m not going to be looking at him anyway.

My hands run over him, he’s hard, bigger than I expected from his size but enough that I know I’m not getting him all in my mouth without gagging. When my lips touch him, he’s quiet but I feel his legs tense under my right hand that’s resting on his thigh.

I hear his head hit the back window when I go all the way down, my lips at the base of him and then sliding back up slowly. I twist my head to the left to get a peek at him. His head is bent forward now, still shadowed by the hat but it’s the tiny flickers from the bonfire that gives me what I’m looking for. His eyes are on me and judging on his hooded expression, he’s enjoying what I’m doing.

He’s all heavy breathing and white knuckle gripping, barely able to stay still until he’s shaking and pushing my head down harder. I let him, it’s sexy and give him what he wants. I like it when they don’t say anything. I don’t need that shit where they’re talking and telling me how sweet my mouth is or how wet my pussy is for them. I prefer this right here. I’m not here to talk, I’m here for pleasure, his and mine.

He doesn’t last long, maybe five minutes, he stops me once, trying to make it last I assume and then pushes my head back down. Again, it’s sexy and not forceful. It’s just enough that I know he doesn’t want this to end.

I feel his legs start to tense, a soft groan leaving his parted lips. Angling my face, I watch him come, his body hunched forward as he cradles my head in his lap, eyes closed and face contorted in pleasure. When I feel him start to pulse, he makes another throaty noise that’s sexy as hell. I let him come in my mouth and I kind of like that he didn’t ask. He didn’t need to.

Sitting up and licking my lips, I give him one more look. He’s still hard, his jeans around his ankles as I reach for the door handle.

He’s waiting on my reaction. Just as I turn away, long calloused fingers wrap around my wrist. “Thanks, darlin’.”

I smile but say nothing throwing my shirt over my shoulder, not even bothering to put it on as I get out.

I don’t feel guilty. Not in the slightest. I am who I say I am. Say what you will. There’s no one here to judge me because they’ve all but given up. I’m not their town princess. I’m not the preacher’s daughter. I’m not a lover and I’m not a girl they’ll bring home to mama. I’m loud-laughing, fast living, stubborn, too mean, too much of anything most can handle.

What I am is wild at heart, hazy thinking and a sinning soul. Yeah, this is me, it may not have always been me but it’s who I am now, take it or leave it.

Chapter Three

Temptations

Some may call me a slut. That’s okay. I don’t care what they say or think. I don’t live by their rules, or my dad’s. I’m living for this moment, this day, because who knows what we are promised tomorrow. I should know. I do know.

When I get downstairs that morning, dad’s staring at me, giving me that fatherly disapproving stare he always has. Just one morning I’d like to not get that stare.

“I got a new guy coming over to help out this week.” He says digging into his breakfast sitting before him. “I’d like you to be nice to him, but, stay away from him. He’s just payin’ off some debt Red James owed me. Fixin’ the barn and what not.”

I give him a nod looking down at his breakfast. It’s biscuits and gravy, same thing he has every Saturday morning. It’s repulsive to watch him eat that slop so I grab an apple and sit down, not because I want to talk to him, but because Jessie isn’t here yet and I am hungry.

“Where were you last night?” his jaded green eyes never move from his plate.

I didn’t respond but then I feel his stare on me when mom returns to the table with eggs and bacon on a plate.

“I was at Harrison’s house.” I finally answer reaching for the bacon and setting my apple down.

Dad nods, his rough demeanor never breaking. My dad is never soft. I’m not sure I’ve ever heard anything nice said by him to me and I’m his only daughter. You’d think he would. He’s a hard-working man though and provides for his family.

“Who was there? Was that Peterson boy there?”

It’s like this every time I go out. He’s constantly wanting to know who I’m with and what I’m doing. He’s a parent. I get that. I should be happy that he cares enough to question me. Jessie’s mom never asks.

My dad has no clue. He thinks I’m good but he doesn’t understand. I’ve spread my legs for probably a dozen boys but if he knew that, I’d be locked away. So he’s kept in the dark for his sanity and my safety.

“Leave her alone, Adam.” Mom says running her hands down my back as she pours me a glass of milk. Her hand twists gently in my long blonde locks and then leans down to kiss the top of my head gently. “Remember to wear sunscreen at the lake.”

“Answer me, Alanna.” Dad says, his voice stern paying no mind to mom.

“No, he wasn’t there.”

Yeah, I’m lying but he’d have a heart attack if he knew I was fucking Kasey every Sunday for the last few months. He doesn’t trust Kasey and he shouldn’t. No one should.

Ten minutes later I’m on the porch waiting for Jessie when I remember that I forgot my phone upstairs. When I’m up there, I hear a truck coming down our long gravel driveway and immediately I recognize who that truck belongs to.

Holy shit!



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