Free Here for Shaye by Misty Kayn Page B
Authors: Misty Kayn
Palm Springs afternoon sun that rose high above the tall
palm trees lining the road. She scrambled for sunglasses on the
passenger's side visor. They covered half of her face. She took a
right onto Indian Canyon Drive.
On her way to the highway, air-conditioning to the
maximum, she turned on the rock radio station and jammed her way
out of thinking about her ex-boyfriend to her current interest, a
man in his forties who knew what he wanted and how to deliver it
precisely the way she liked. Sir R was stern, always on time
online, and he didn't make her feel like her kinks were anything
other than ordinary. Even if they were. She loved the way he
allowed her to just be herself and not worry about him judging
her.
Head bobbing to the rock music of her mother's
youth, thoughts somewhere between Sir R's balls, she took the
highway exit and read a few casino signs. "Jackpot at 108,000 and
counting! Winner, Winner!" they said.
She squinted her eyes and ducked to look out of the
passenger window. Was that…? It was. Oh, hell . Emergency
flashing lights on, she pulled over to the side and threw her hands
in the air.
A swimmer-slender, tall man wearing yellow, below
the knee swim shorts, tight bright green muscle shirt, and blue
flip flops, stuck his thumb out. He sashayed to the car, opened the
door, threw his backpack in the back, and plopped his ass in the
passenger seat. "Dayum, girl! It's like a furnace out there." He
adjusted the vent units to blow in his face.
Shaye gaped. "Wha..? Are you hitchhiking?"
"Waiting for you. An hour ago," he said and fastened
his seatbelt. "Cry me a river!" He turned up the radio.
Shaye flicked the radio switch and faced her best
friend’s profile.
Silence.
Dallas was two years younger than her with dark
skin, shaved head, and big brown eyes. His most striking feature,
other than his hard eight pack, were his full lips that often
stretched into a smile. Just like now.
"What are you doing and where is Mystique?" Shaye
asked. Dallas was her check-in person, a back up to make sure
everything was going as it should with Sir R. He was also
dog-sitting for the weekend.
"I drove her to your mom's and told her we'd
call."
"Mom's?! I didn't want Mom to know I was gone this
weekend. She'll ask too many questions and I don't feel like
reporting."
"I know, but he could be a serial killer and your
mother is a cop."
"I could be a serial killer." Shaye tapped the
steering wheel. She was so late.
"You weigh one hundred and ten pounds and can't kill
a spider, I'm coming along."
"Shit, Dallas you can't come."
"Why not?"
"Because you're a guy. He's gonna think we're
together, together."
"We'll explain."
She didn't think thousands of explanations would do
her much good. She was bringing a man to another man whom she’d
told she was single. "He doesn't know you're coming, maybe he'll
bail.
"He's not gonna bail, but you could try driving,
seeing as it's passed four o'clock."
Shaye picked up her phone and texted Sir R.
Sir R: In that case, meet me at the yellow gas
station in Blythe. You can't miss it on your left.
Shaye: I can't wait to see you.
She bit the inside of her mouth and hit send.
"You didn't tell him did you?"
Shaye tucked the phone between her legs and shook
her head. She'd face Sir R's disproval rather then get dumped on
the side of the road before she even met him. He was one of a kind
guy for a girl like her.
Car idling on the side of the road, she considered
the mountain range that stretched along the highway on the left.
Her luck with men was something like the steep dip between the two
tops. If she didn't climb hard enough, if she didn't manage the
obstacles in the way, she'd never get collared. She wanted to keep
the collar he'd place around her neck this weekend. The collar to a
girl like her was akin to an engagement ring most girls wanted from
the boyfriends they planned to commit to. She didn't want
engagement or marriage, but a collar was a commitment, a sacred
vow,
palm trees lining the road. She scrambled for sunglasses on the
passenger's side visor. They covered half of her face. She took a
right onto Indian Canyon Drive.
On her way to the highway, air-conditioning to the
maximum, she turned on the rock radio station and jammed her way
out of thinking about her ex-boyfriend to her current interest, a
man in his forties who knew what he wanted and how to deliver it
precisely the way she liked. Sir R was stern, always on time
online, and he didn't make her feel like her kinks were anything
other than ordinary. Even if they were. She loved the way he
allowed her to just be herself and not worry about him judging
her.
Head bobbing to the rock music of her mother's
youth, thoughts somewhere between Sir R's balls, she took the
highway exit and read a few casino signs. "Jackpot at 108,000 and
counting! Winner, Winner!" they said.
She squinted her eyes and ducked to look out of the
passenger window. Was that…? It was. Oh, hell . Emergency
flashing lights on, she pulled over to the side and threw her hands
in the air.
A swimmer-slender, tall man wearing yellow, below
the knee swim shorts, tight bright green muscle shirt, and blue
flip flops, stuck his thumb out. He sashayed to the car, opened the
door, threw his backpack in the back, and plopped his ass in the
passenger seat. "Dayum, girl! It's like a furnace out there." He
adjusted the vent units to blow in his face.
Shaye gaped. "Wha..? Are you hitchhiking?"
"Waiting for you. An hour ago," he said and fastened
his seatbelt. "Cry me a river!" He turned up the radio.
Shaye flicked the radio switch and faced her best
friend’s profile.
Silence.
Dallas was two years younger than her with dark
skin, shaved head, and big brown eyes. His most striking feature,
other than his hard eight pack, were his full lips that often
stretched into a smile. Just like now.
"What are you doing and where is Mystique?" Shaye
asked. Dallas was her check-in person, a back up to make sure
everything was going as it should with Sir R. He was also
dog-sitting for the weekend.
"I drove her to your mom's and told her we'd
call."
"Mom's?! I didn't want Mom to know I was gone this
weekend. She'll ask too many questions and I don't feel like
reporting."
"I know, but he could be a serial killer and your
mother is a cop."
"I could be a serial killer." Shaye tapped the
steering wheel. She was so late.
"You weigh one hundred and ten pounds and can't kill
a spider, I'm coming along."
"Shit, Dallas you can't come."
"Why not?"
"Because you're a guy. He's gonna think we're
together, together."
"We'll explain."
She didn't think thousands of explanations would do
her much good. She was bringing a man to another man whom she’d
told she was single. "He doesn't know you're coming, maybe he'll
bail.
"He's not gonna bail, but you could try driving,
seeing as it's passed four o'clock."
Shaye picked up her phone and texted Sir R.
Sir R: In that case, meet me at the yellow gas
station in Blythe. You can't miss it on your left.
Shaye: I can't wait to see you.
She bit the inside of her mouth and hit send.
"You didn't tell him did you?"
Shaye tucked the phone between her legs and shook
her head. She'd face Sir R's disproval rather then get dumped on
the side of the road before she even met him. He was one of a kind
guy for a girl like her.
Car idling on the side of the road, she considered
the mountain range that stretched along the highway on the left.
Her luck with men was something like the steep dip between the two
tops. If she didn't climb hard enough, if she didn't manage the
obstacles in the way, she'd never get collared. She wanted to keep
the collar he'd place around her neck this weekend. The collar to a
girl like her was akin to an engagement ring most girls wanted from
the boyfriends they planned to commit to. She didn't want
engagement or marriage, but a collar was a commitment, a sacred
vow,