“I’m going to rock your world, give you a memory to look back on when you're feeling lonely, and for helping a girl on the side of the road without asking for anything in return. Just don’t touch me and I’ll do all the work okay?”
He looks like he’s about to interject but my hands are unclasping my bra in the front as my legs squeeze the outside of his thighs from my straddle position. His attention focuses on my naked breasts and his breath fans my collarbone as his hands drop down to his sides limply. I look behind his shoulder at the wall as I plant my ass on his denim covered dick, grinding down against him.
“Sweet Jesus,” he mutters in a daze when my hips roll over him again and again, rubbing against his dick in the right way that will have him blowing his load in seconds.
He needs to come now because my vision is getting grey around the edges, putting me in a place I’d rather not be.
Take it slut. God, look at her loving my dick, can’t get enough of her cunt being filled with my jizz.Say please, Tillie, and tell us that you want to get fucked by all of us.
Not now.
Every single time I’ve had to do this, climbing onto a stranger’s lap just so they can experience pleasure from my body that doesn’t want to do this, that night always resurfaces like a wave crashing on the sand, it just keeps coming back. I can feel their phantom hands on my body as they defile me over and over again.
My body moves on autopilot, growing wet between my legs as I rub my clothed pussy right over his dick despite not really feeling anything inside. It’s like instinct to feel what the body craves but can’t have because our minds fuck us up in the end. Needing this to be over, I drag my heated core right over him just as I lean back, my back arched until I’m staring at the grey fabric of the truck ceiling. I play with my nipples in front of his face to give him the perfect view. He’ll be done soon. Would it be wrong of me if I started laughing when I feel him spasming under me and hearing him let out a whimper as he came? It’s almost unfair how I can’t do that, just let go and feel something that makes you cry out in pleasure inside instead of screaming in pain.
I’m off of his lap before he’s even finished and skip my bra altogether as I shove my tank top over my head while he sits there in a daze. I unzip my bag and grab a hoodie to cover my body with the hood hiding my face from any cameras in the parking lot. The walls start closing in on me as I reach for the handle to get out of the truck. My world is focusing back into color but tortuous memories creep along the edges of my mind.
“Wait! Who are you, Tillie Jones?” He pants out in a desperate tone.
“I’m the devil’s spawn baby and it’s best for you to try to forget my face because it could lead you to trouble one day.” A small warning for him because if anyone finds out he helped me… I can’t think that way right now.
“As if I’d forget you,” he whispers with a small laugh of disbelief.
I glance over my shoulder at him, smiling like I have a secret, taking in his pink cheeks under his beard along with his disheveled hair and the wet stain on his jeans before hopping down from the passenger door.
“I didn’t say forget me, you can remember my body for the lonely nights on the road. Bye, Trucker Adam.” I wink at him and take off running towards the bus station before he can say anything else.
I controlled that moment in the back of the cab… my decision and my fucking body to do as it pleases.
It’s an awakening that sparks something deep inside of me that I’m scared to look too closely at. It’s still scary as hell because what limits does my own body have when I decide that I’m taking the reins?
The sliding glass doors of the bus station offer a blast of cold air on my heated skin, clearing my head as I scan the lobby for anyone dressed in a leather cut. I mean it’s not just leather I have to be on the lookout for because their sources extend farther than just the club. You have the buyers that pay a pretty penny for the best drugs, the other clubs that are known in other countries, or the worst you really have to look for is the people that fear them. People do crazy things when their heart races from the unknown and that could be my downfall for being caught. Luckily it’s pretty empty, the blue and white checkered floors are spotless which tells me not much traffic comes through here. The clerk and the one sleeping homeless man on the bench are the only people I see. Most people travel by plane or car these days, no one wants to sit next to a stranger for countless hours on a bus.
I approach the counter, my head down and my hood covering my face from the camera in the corner of the room behind the clerk who hasn’t bothered to look up from her slouched position in her chair with her feet kicked up on the counter. She blows a piece of pink bubble gum, snapping the bubble when she finally lazily looks up at me with a bored expression on her face.
“Um, one ticket to New York, one way, please.” My voice comes out as a hushed whisper.
She pops another bubble, the noise making me cringe in the quiet space. Rolling her eyes, she plops her feet down as she enters the information into her computer to print me a ticket. The piercing on her face reflects off the low lighting as she glances back at me with a raised brow as my ticket slowly prints before sliding it across on the counter towards me. I dig money out of my bag and hand it over without a word. She’s about to pick up her cell phone, going back to ignoring me but I clear my throat which only has her sighing in annoyance.
“Yeah, anything else?” She drawls with another loud bubble pop.
“One way ticket to Los Angeles too.” My hand shakes as I start to hand her more money because this chick is staring at me with a curious expression now.
“You sure about that?” She questions, looking me up and down before her gaze stops on the bloodstain seeping through my pants from the bike crash.
She looks like she’s about to call the cops or something by the way she keeps looking at me and my disheveled appearance then back to her phone. Shit. I can’t have that because I’m pretty sure the cops around here are in Payne’s pockets.
“Listen, I need to disappear,” I tell her quickly, thinking of what Doris told me, about saying I’m running from a husband but I don’t think she’ll believe me. “I’m trying to get away from an abusive ex before it’s too late for me.” I’m really not lying too much because Cruz is an ex who deserves to die so I think I’m selling this to her.
She sits up straight, quickly prints my new ticket, and slips my cash back to me.
“Keep it, and you're doing the right thing. Us girls have to look out for each other, fuck those fuck boys. Girl power.” She holds her fist out for me to bump which I do hesitantly and I’m betting this chick goes to all the women's rights marches.
“Thanks.” She nods once and I plaster on a fake smile before turning around to get the heck out of there, really hoping she doesn’t think calling the police is the best option.
Once again, the Nevada heat absorbs into my skin the moment I step outside to find my bus. My ticket says it is departing at one, that’s in thirty minutes. It’s a little nerve wracking because I have a feeling Payne and Cruz are going to be tearing this city apart very soon looking for me. That’s what someone who owns an object does, you don’t stop looking until it’s found.
Finding bus number twenty-nine, I quicken my pace and climb the stairs with my hair covering my face, the bus driver barely glancing at me. Empty seats except for three are occupied which is a blessing. The fewer people that see me, the less likely I’ll be remembered. Taking a seat at the back of the bus, I fall against the cushioned fabric, a slow drawn out sigh escaping me. I’ve made it this far, only a little more to go. Reaching into my jeans’ pocket, I gaze at the address, blinking with disbelief at fourteen ninety Monica Beverly Hills, California. Who the hell is this person Doris is sending me to? The land of the rich and privileged, how does she know anyone that would live there? Am I doing the right thing? If Cruz finds me, I don’t think I’ll ever see the light of day again and Tillie will just be a name someone forgets about after she disappears into the ring of human trafficking or six feet under ground.
