Matchmaker 02: February

I thrilled with my victory, but I wasn't ready for him to come in my mouth. I pushed back against his gentle pull, holding his cock tight and smiling as he groaned in erotic agony while slowly pumping his hips, my fist rising and falling with him, refusing to push him over the edge. I was going to make him work for it today. After a long moment, he relaxed with a sigh.

"My turn," he growled as he rose from the chair and dragged me to my feet. He turned us and pushed me roughly against the glass. The glass was shockingly cold on my back, but before I could complain, he was on his knees in front of me, draping one leg over his shoulder to open me to his kisses. He began to probe, slowly at first, his tongue slithering into my secret places. The glass dome began to curve just above my shoulders, tipping my head forward, forcing me to watch as he kissed and nibbled at my womanhood. I pressed my hands to the glass above my head, trying to steady myself as my leg slowly tightened across his back.

Now it was my turn to groan. I slid my hands behind his head to pull him more firmly into my most intimate area. As I did, he responded, licking and kissing more firmly, knowing I liked hard, steady pressure over fast flicks.

I held him to me as his tongue pressed in, his firm kiss making me crackle with erotic energy. I'd had other lovers pleasure me with their lips and tongue, but none came close to pleasing me like Ryker did, his slow, hard licks and firm, steady press on my button so unlike any lover before him. He'd discovered what wound me tight, something I hadn't known myself, and used the knowledge to absolutely wreck me.

"Oh, God," I breathed as my orgasm began to wind up. "You're going to make me come," I whispered, his tongue pressing in hard as he slowly massaged my clit, one hand on my ass, the other holding my leg over his shoulder as he drove me mad with sweet torment.

I pulled his head hard into me as my orgasm rolled over me, burning through me, the coldness of the glass forgotten as I shuddered softly, moaning low and deep in my chest. I bent at the waist, struggling to keep my feet, my battle to control my body multiplying the pleasure.

"Stop! Please stop!" I begged, afraid I was going to fall as my orgasm stole my strength.

He supported me, kissing my thigh and stomach until my orgasm washed out of me, leaving me floating in the residue of my rapture. I stood panting, still bent at the waist, certain I'd have fallen if not for his strong, steading hands.

I blew out a long, cleansing breath and began to straighten as he slid my leg from his shoulder and clambered to his feet. I was still recovering from my climax as he turned me and pressed me against the glass again. The glazing was still frightfully cold, and the curve of the dome pressed into my cheek and forced my head sideways, opening my neck to his exploration as he flattened me against the clear wall. He entered me in a gentle press, his groan of pleasure ramping up my desires. He began to move, slowly pulling back before pushing in with a long, unhurried, thrust. He paused to adjust my legs, pressing me even harder against the window, holding my hip with his left hand while intertwining the fingers of his right with mine and pinning it to the overarching dome. The cold of the glass against my face, stomach, and breasts, the pinning of my hand, the unhurried and erotic kissing of my exposed neck as he slow fucked me, the beauty of the mountains beyond the window, it all combined for an incredibly intense experience.

After many long moments of slow fucking, he began to move faster, pounding into me harder, the change in tempo and the slap of his hips against my ass drawing my orgasm closer. I'd come once already and still wanted to scream with the intensity of the encounter. How the fuck can he stand it?

He picked up his pace, his hand sliding from my hip to finger my clit, slowly massaging my button as he pounded into me. I gasped, the bliss of Ryker inside me almost more than I could bear. I was powerless, trapped against the glass as the mountains soared as high as my pleasure. I pushed back against him, backing him off a little so I could bend at the waist, relieving the pressure on my neck and allowing me to better see the beauty spread out before us. We rounded a bend and beside us was a road, busy with traffic. The glass was tinted against the sun, but the thought of having someone seeing us fuck sent my passions spiraling. It was like the men talking outside the railcar in New Orleans multiplied a thousand-fold. I was helpless, trapped against the glass, unable to move as Ryker's cock plunged into me furiously.

"Fuck!" I wailed as my climax swept over me.

My legs buckled as Ryker pulled my back into his chest, stepping away from the glass while growling low and deep as he held me tight, grinding his hips into my ass as I slowly bobbed, my legs no longer able to support me. As I began to recover, he pulled us to the thick carpeting, rolling me to my back before sliding into me again.

I was wasted, strung out, unable to come again, but I wanted to finish him. "I want you to come," I growled, flicking his hard nipples with my fingers.

He began pounding into me, taking his pleasure and giving it back to me. "Come on," I urged, trying to twist him up with my words as I clamped my legs tightly against him, something I knew he liked. "Fuck me until you come."

"Shit," he snarled as he continued to pound into me.

"Come on," I cooed. "I want you come. I want to feel you co—"

His face twisted as he shuddered, groaning softly as he collapsed over me and pressed in hard and deep, holding himself there as he filled me with his essence.

"Fuck," he breathed into my neck as he relaxed before pulling back so his lips could find mine. "That was intense," he added softly as our lips gradually parted.

I nodded leisurely. Now that I wasn't having the shit fucked out of me, I noticed a vaguely Deanna shaped smear on the glass. A smile tugging at my lips. I'll have to clean that up before Serge sees it.

"Take me to bed?" I asked.

He smiled down at me. "With pleasure."

We gathered our scattered clothes and carried them to the bedroom, where we tumbled into the freshly made bed. I snuggled into his arms, sleep pulling heavily on me. I sighed in both contentment and disappointment.

"I don't give a fuck what you want!" I roared. "I'm doing this whether you want me to or not!"

It had been almost a month since I'd stepped off the railcar for the last time. In that time, Dad and I had quietly been working in the background as I prepared to start my life as an individual. I'd just broken the news to Mother that I was leaving, and she hadn't taken it well. Our disagreement was becoming more and more confrontational as she first cajoled, then demanded, I give up my plans. Dad had offered to tell her, but I'd turned him down. I wanted to do this myself. I needed to do it myself.

"You can't speak to me this way!" Mother snarled. She was too proper and refined to raise her voice, but her face was red and I knew she was pissed. I didn't care.

"You can accept my decision or not. Either way, it's time for you to shut the hell up about it!"

"How dare you?" she growled, her voice low and dangerous.

"How dare I?" I yelled. "I dare because I'm sick of you trying to make all my decisions for me. I dare because I'm tired of all this shit!" I said as I waved my arms around the study. "I dare because I want to live my life my way, not the way you want me to! That's how I dare!"

"It's that woman, isn't it? She—"

"You leave Deanna out of this! She has nothing to do with it! This has been coming for a long time!"

"You don't know what you're doing! I just want what's best for you. Why can't you see that?"

"What's best is for me to get the hell out of here!"

"But to work on a ship? Look, why don't you—"

"It was good enough for Dad."

"Yes, but—"

"No buts. It's done."

"I'm going to speak to your father about this!"

I waved my hand. "Go ahead. He already knows and supports my decision."

"We'll see about that."

"Do what you think you have to, but it's done. I leave on the Teaton Marlin after it docks in L.A."

She glared at me, but suddenly softened, apparently realizing bullying wasn't going to change my mind. "Ryker, honey, please, you don't have to do this. I worry about you. Why don't you—"

"No. It's done," I said, cutting her off. "Captain Henrickson is expecting me on board."

"But why L.A.? Why can't you—"

"Because I want to be on my own, and I don't want special treatment because I'm the owner's son. I can't do that if I'm shipping out of New York."

"But what will you be doing? What if something happens to you?"

I'd already obtained my TWIC—Transportation Worker Identification Credential—my MMC—Merchant Mariner's Credential—and my STCW—Standards of Training Certification and Watchkeeping—when I'd planned to crew a vessel before. When I'd made up my mind I was doing this, it was simply a matter of finding a position on a ship. That had been the easy part. It helped when your father owned the company.

"I'm starting at the bottom as an Ordinary Seaman, just like everyone else. I'll do whatever I'm told to do. Captain Henrickson is the only person on board who knows who I am, and I want to keep it that way."

"At the bottom?" she cried. "Ryker, you have a college degree. Surely you—"

"Goddammit, Mother! You don't get it, do you? I want to be treated like everyone else! Why is that so hard for you to understand?"

"But—"

"No buts! This conversation is finished!"

I turned on my toe and started for the door. I had a plane to catch. "If you walk out that door, don't come back!" she snapped.

I paused and looked at her. "So that's what it's come to? Threats?"

"I'm trying to protect you! Why can't you see that?"

"You're trying to control me, and I can't tolerate it anymore." I paused, holding her gaze, her face a mixture of fear and anger. "If you change your mind, and would like to see me again, Dad will know how to reach me." I closed the door behind me.

I paused in the entry, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. I stood, waiting to see if Mom would appear, but after waiting thirty seconds, I decided she wasn't. No matter. I was committed. I walked out of the house to the car waiting for me.

"Mr. Teaton," Gerrard said. "Ready, sir?"

"Yes, thank you," I said as I settled into the back of the Mercedes S-Class. "Gerrard," I said as he settled behind the wheel.

"Yes, Mr. Teaton?"

"Thank you."

"For what, sir?"

"For everything you've done for me over the years. I haven't said that nearly often enough."

"It's been my pleasure."

He started the car and we glided out of the grounds.

Mother had called as the Teaton jet soared across the country. She'd apologized and begged me to come home. I'd told her that I loved her and would see her as often as I could, but I wouldn't be returning home to live. It sounded like she might cry, but I wouldn't be swayed. I had to do this.

The plane touched down and taxied to the charter terminal. As Erin lowered the door, I thanked her and Randal. Since leaving the railcar, I'd made it a point to show gratitude every time one of the staff helped me. As I stepped onto the tarmac, the fuel truck was arriving. It was a fuel and go for planes. As soon as the plane was topped off, it would return to New York.

I had a lot to do before I shipped out. The Teaton Marlin would be arriving in Los Angeles in eight days. After it was unloaded and reloaded, it would make the twenty-one-day sail to Shanghai, and I'd be on her. Forty-five days after I left, I'd return to Los Angeles.

In these eight days, I needed to find a place to live, get a driver's license, and buy a car. I hadn't given up access to my family money, and I planned to buy a house at some point, but I was going to start with an apartment. I still had a lot to learn about living on my own, and I was going to ease into it by renting first.

I hung around the charter terminal until my Uber arrived. We loaded my luggage into the back of the car before the driver whisked me away to my hotel. I was going to stay in the hotel until I could find a permanent place to live, but before I could unpack and settle in, I had an errand to run.

As soon as my bags were in my room, I returned to my Uber and gave the driver the address. He drove me through town, pulling to a stop in front of Preston Classic Cars. I leaned forward and gave him a twenty for a tip.

"Thank you," I said as he took the bill.

"Thank you!"

I stepped out of the Camry and smiled. I'd been talking to Deanna almost nightly since we parted company. She knew about my plans to crew a ship, but she didn't know I was planning on shipping out of Los Angeles or living in Santa Fe. She'd assumed I would crew a ship out of New York and I'd said nothing to dissuade her from thinking that. It was a twelve-hour drive between my new home and Los Angeles, but I didn't mind. I could make that drive once every forty-five days if that meant having Deanna in my life.

I squared my shoulders and opened the door to the office. "May I help you?" the woman behind the counter asked.

"I'd like to see Deanna."

"She's in the shop. You want to go on back?"

"You must be Becky."

"That's right."

Becky was probably in her forties, tending toward heavy with a lovely face and a winning smile. I extended my hand. "Nice to meet you, Becky. Ryker Teaton."

Her eyes widened slightly as she took my hand. She knew me and smiled. "Go right on back. I'm sure Deanna will surprised to see you."

I smiled at her. "Pleasantly, I hope."

I opened the door and stepped into the garage. Deanna was bent over the fender of a car in the nearest of four bays, her oh so lovely ass calling to me. Two bays over an older man was standing under a car, his face tipped up with his hands hidden in the guts of the machine. That must be her dad.

"Excuse me!" I called loudly. "I'm thinking about buying a classic car and I—"

Deanna turned to my voice, freezing in surprise. She was wearing a slightly dirty set of coveralls and grease stained blue gloves. There was a smudge of dirt on her right cheek, but she was still the most beautiful woman I'd never met. She didn't look pleased to see me, and I flashed hot in embarrassment and concern for putting her on the spot, but then she broke into a smile.

"Ryker! What are you doing here?"

"I came to take you out, if you're not busy tonight."

She peeled off her gloves and threw them in a barrel. "You came all the way from New York to take me on a date?"

I nodded. "If you don't have plans."

"Not anymore. Dad! Come meet Ryker."

I swallowed hard and sucked up my courage as the man approached, peeling off gloves. "Ryker Teaton, my dad, Roger Preston. Dad, Ryker."

Roger Preston was perhaps my Dad's age, or maybe a little younger. He had a friendly, open face and a crushing handshake. "Nice to meet you, Ryker. Dee has told me a lot about you."

"Nice to meet you too, sir." I glanced at Deanna with a smile. "Dee?"

She smiled and shrugged. "He's called me that for years."

We stood around in the garage a moment, chatting. Roger was very good at putting me as ease. I knew I was likely to meet her father when I arrived, but I'd still been nervous. I was the man, after all, that had spent a month fucking his daughter stupid, and I wasn't sure how he'd take to that.

It was nearly six, almost time for the garage to close. "Would you like to join us for dinner?" I asked Roger. I didn't want him to, but it would have been impolite for me to not offer.

"I would, but I have date tonight myself. You two have fun. How long are you going to be in town?"

"A few days, at least."

"Good. Maybe we can get together sometime before you leave."

I nodded. "I'd like that."

"Hang on and let me get cleaned up," Deanna said.

I followed her into the office, watching as she stripped out of her uniform. Underneath the protective covering she was wearing a black polo shirt with Preston Classic Cars stitched across her left breast with the garage's logo, the first and last 'C' in the word ClassiC forming the tires of a stylized car. It was all I could do not to stare as I admired the logo. She tossed the coveralls into a hamper and disappeared into the bathroom. After a couple of minutes of running water, she appeared. The smudge on her face was gone and she looked fresh and ready to face the world.

"Ready," she said with a smile. I followed her to her car. "Where to?"

"Wherever you want to have dinner. Someplace quiet. We have a lot to talk about."

She nodded and pulled out onto the road, giving the Chevelle the beans as we roared away. "Why are you here, really?" she asked as we purred along through town. "I thought you were leaving on a ship in about a week."

"I am."

"And you came to see me before you left?"

I nodded. "You might say that."

She smiled at me. "That's sweet, but what aren't you telling me?"

I wasn't committed to anything, but I was about to find out if I was going to be staying in Santa Fe. "I leave on the Teaton Marlin in about a week... out of L.A."

"So you stopped on your way to L.A.?"

"No, not exactly." I summoned my courage. "I stopped because I was wondering if you'd like me to live here."

She looked at me again, her eyes narrowing. "Here? In Santa Fe?" I nodded. "And you'll drive or fly to Los Angeles?" I nodded again. "That's a hell of a commute."

"Yeah. But it's only once every forty-five days or so. I drive to L.A, and forty-five days later, I'll be back. I'll come back to Santa Fe, and then forty-five days later, return to L.A. for another cycle."

"Why would you want to do that?"

"Why do you think?"

"Because of me?"

"Because of you."

"Why?"

"Why do you think? You wouldn't come to New York. You said if I ever came back to Santa Fe to look you up. Here I am."

"You'd do that? You'd leave your family behind for me?"

"I'm not leaving my family behind. This is a job, nothing more. When Dad retires, I'll probably take over the company, but until then, I want to do what he did, earn the business from the water up."

We turned into the parking lot of a small Italian restaurant. She switched off the car but made no move to open her door, so I didn't either.

"What did your mother think of this idea?"

"She hates it, but I'm doing it anyway."

She held my gaze. "And you're doing this for me?"

"No, I'm doing it for me. I can't stop thinking about you."

That won me a smile. "And you want to move in with me?"

"No, I'm going to get my own place. An apartment first, and later, maybe a house. Maybe, someday, you can move in with me."

"And what happens when you take over TSL?"

I smiled. It gave me hope she was thinking ahead. "If you won't move to New York with me, then the flight takes half as long as it does to drive to Los Angeles."

"You'd fly back and forth?"

"If I have to. Fly out on Monday, fly back on Friday. What's the point of having a private plane if I can't use it?"

"So, let me get this straight. You're willing to drive to Los Angeles once a month or so, and fly to New York every week, just so you can be here in Santa Fe with me?"

"That about sums it up." I had to give her an out. "Unless you don't want me here."

She slowly licked her lips. "What would you do then?"

"Then, I guess, I'll rent an apartment in Los Angeles."

"So you're doing the shipping thing regardless?"

I nodded. "That's right."