Piston by Andi Rhodes

Chapter Thirteen

_{The way he’s looking at me reminds me of a wild predator about to devour their last meal.}

Holland

“Don’t stop.”

Large hands squeeze my thighs and push my knees farther apart. I throw my head back as a moan escapes past my lips and my hips buck wildly. My body quivers as Piston laps at my clit with his tongue.

“Mmmm,” he growls against me, sending shockwaves through me like a lightning bolt.

I thrash my head from side to side and arch my back when he slips one finger inside of me, then another. I knew Piston would take me to places I’ve never been, but I had no idea he’d be this good at it.

“Holland.”

“No talking,” I beg. “J-just don’t stop.”

A loud bang startles me, but I ignore it. There is nothing that is going to take this from me. I haven’t been laid in over a year and I need it.

“Come for me, sweet cheeks.”

Piston works his fingers faster, curling them as he thrusts deep. Between my clit and g-spot, he’s working magic. Sinful, wicked magic.

Tingles race from my core to spread through my limbs and I explode. Piston’s arm shoots up to cover my mouth and stifle my screams.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

I gasp as I shoot into a sitting position. My clothes are damp with sweat and the sheets are tangled around my legs. I reach over and slap my alarm, barely resisting the urge to throw it across the room.

It was a dream. A delicious, satisfying dream, but a dream nonetheless.

“Holland!”

I whip my head in the direction of my bedroom door and slump back against the headboard. The last person I want to deal with right now is my father.

“Holland, the car is leaving for church in ten minutes. I suggest you get up if you plan on attending.”

If I rolled my eyes any harder, I’d see the back of my skull. I’ve only missed three church services since I returned home and missing a fourth isn’t going to matter. Besides, I only go to make him happy.

“Go ahead without me, Daddy,” I call out to him. “I’ve got some work to do today.”

That’s not a complete lie. I need to go pick my car up and Piston is taking me to do that. And Piston is tied into my work.

My father’s sigh reaches my ears, and for a split second, I think about giving in. My car isn’t going anywhere. And I’m sure Piston had a late night and would appreciate not having to deal with me first thing in the morning.

“Does your work have anything to do with the Harley parked at the side of the garage and the man sleeping next to it?”

I hop up and rush to the door, yanking it open. “What?!”

My father’s face is stern, disapproving. “Holland, there are cameras all over this property. Did you really think I wouldn’t see him?”

I push past him and race down the steps. I make my way through the hall that leads to the security room where the monitors are located. I find the one that will show me the perimeter of the garage and sure enough, there’s a bike there just like my father said.

“What the hell?” I mutter under my breath.

I retrace my steps back down the hall and through the kitchen. I snag a jacket off a peg by the door on my way outside. It’s early and the lawn is dewy, the air crisp. I wrap my arms around myself and walk around the garage.

Piston is laying in the grass, his cut under his head as a pillow. How he could possibly be comfortable, I have no idea. I kneel down and gently shake him. He doesn’t stir.

“Piston,” I say and shake him harder.

He comes awake in a flurry of flailing arms, forcing me to fall back on my ass to dodge them. The dew soaks through my thin, cotton shorts and at this moment, I regret not wearing underwear to bed.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I demand as I scramble to my feet and wrap the jacket around me tighter.

Piston stands and picks his cut up as he does. He sets it on the seat of his Harley and finally turns to face me. His gaze bores into me, making me wish I hadn’t run out here so quickly. I can only imagine how my hair looks.

His eyes travel the length of my body and with each inch they creep lower, my body temperature rises until I no longer feel the cool morning air.

Insecurity mixes with annoyance and shock that he’s here and apparently, he slept here.

“Are you going to answer me?”

Piston slowly raises his head to lock eyes with me. “In a minute.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his heels. “I’m kinda enjoying the view right now.”

Heat infuses my cheeks. “Why are you here?” I ask through clenched teeth.

“Aw, sweet cheeks, you’re a little flushed.” He reaches out to push a wisp of hair out of my face. “You feeling okay?”

I stomp my foot in frustration. “Dammit, you’re impossible.”

I turn and start to walk away, but he latches onto my arm and forces me back around to face him.

“Don’t do that,” he says. “Don’t walk away from me.”

A throat clears behind me, and I glance over my shoulder to see my father standing there in his Sunday suit. He’s leaning heavily on his cane and he looks pale. My lungs seize and guilt settles in. I should go to church with him. Who knows how many more Sundays he has left?

“Daddy, do you need something?” I ask as I back up slightly and run into Piston’s hard body.

His eyes dart from me to Piston and back again. “I know you’re an adult, Holland, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t flaunt your male friend for all the world to see.”

The way he sneers the word ‘friend’ has my temper rising, and I can feel Piston bristle behind me.

“Daddy!” I whisper harshly.

“I’m going to church,” he says as if he hadn’t just insulted me. “We can discuss this later.”

He turns and slowly makes his way back into the garage where his car is waiting. Mr. Lofton always drives us to church and without fail, he has the car running and warm ten minutes early ‘just in case’.

I stand still until the car exits the garage and drives down the driveway. Once it disappears from my view, I take a deep breath and brace myself for Piston’s anger. There’s no way he’s going to let my father’s comment slide.

“Well, not exactly how I planned on meeting him.”

I whirl around. Piston chuckles when he sees my expression.

“What?” he asks. “Not the reaction you were expecting?”

I open and close my mouth several times, but no words come out. I shake my head to clear the confusion and then remember that I’m annoyed with Piston because he still hasn’t answered my question.

“Why did you sleep in my yard last night?”

Piston’s facial expression morphs from amusement to something less definable. Regret? Sadness? I don’t know but when he still doesn’t answer, I try a different question.

“Did you get everything handled last night?”

A darkness flashes in his eyes, but it quickly disappears. “Yeah. Everything is good now.”

I nod slowly, as if I know what that means, when in reality it only evokes more questions.

“I, uh, need to get a shower.” I start walking backward. “Wanna come in and wait and then we can go get my car?”

“Sure.” He stalks toward me, his strides much longer than mine.

He reaches out and grabs the lapel on my jacket to stop me from retreating. Butterflies swarm my stomach and my heartbeat skips. The way he’s looking at me reminds me of a wild predator about to devour their last meal.

“I’m sorry if I caused problems for you with your dad.”

I lick my lips. “Don’t worry about it.” When he makes no move to let me go, worry filters in. “Piston?”

“Last night was… nothing out of the ordinary.” He takes a deep breath and blows it out. “For me, it was normal. What I did last night is who I am, what I fight so hard to protect. But when it was over, I realized that there’s a part of me that’s been dormant for, well, forever.”

“And what part is that?” I hold my breath, not entirely sure I want to know the answer.

“The light,” he says simply and drops his arm. “For the first time, light crept in and demanded to be seen.”

“Oh.”

“You, Holland. You’re the light. I wanted to see you so bad that I didn’t stop and think. I did what I had to do to clean up and drove straight here.” He smiles sheepishly and it gives him a completely different vibe. “I pulled into your driveway and my brain kicked in. I didn’t want to wake anyone up, so I figured I’d sleep until morning and then…” He chuckles, almost as if laughing at himself. “Well, you know what happened.”

“That’s…” I swallow past the lump in my throat. “That’s actually really sweet.”