Trust Me II (32 page)

“So, tell me about your town,” he asked a few minutes later as they
drove into Hoisington. “We never got much of a chance to look around the few times we were here and we stayed at a motel in Great Bend. What is there to do in Hoisington?”

“Well, there’s a lot of nothing and when you’re finished
with that, you can walk the town in twenty minutes to see the other end of nothing. Other than that, there’s really nothing to see.” Now it was Creighton’s turn to laugh.

“Sounds like my kind of town.”

“We have hunting, fishing, that sort of thing,” she clarified. “Mostly people around here got to Great Bend or Hays to have fun. We have an occasional exhibit, fireworks, theaters, but that’s about it. Hoisington is a very quiet, laid back town. We don’t like a lot of chaos.”

“But
they’re willing to have a factory of four thousand come into town?”

“It’s good for the economy, but I think it’s kind of crazy to have a wind powered plant in the middle of Tornado Alley.”

“It’s not going to be a wind powered plant,” Creighton explained. “It’s going to be solar powered, and you have to admit there is a lot of sun here.”

“That may work, but don’t you think it would be better to move it someplace where there aren’t so many crazy winds? As
much as I love Kansas, this really isn’t the place to set up shop for an eco-friendly electronics factory.”

“Trust
me; my engineers have looked into the history and the environment. I can’t say that nothing will ever happen, but we are covering as many bases as we can.”

“If you say so, but I still think it’s crazy.” They pulled into
the parking stall of the local motel, and stepped out of the car.

“Nice,” he said as he stepped around to shut her door.

“It’s a small place, barely twenty rooms, and definitely no room service, but it has all the amenities a trucker could ask for, including a restaurant next door, travel brochures and hot and cold running water!” Creighton laughed again as he opened the trunk and pulled out their bags. They walked together into the small lobby and looked around.

Quaint was far from being an accurate description. The lobby was a bit larger than he would have expected looking
at the front of the building. There was a small glass counter with toothbrushes, snacks and aspirin and a pop machine in the corner. The décor was mid-century with two avocado green sofas and matching wingback chairs, a scratched but clean coffee table and on the opposite wall across from the door was a metal stand with a large coffee pot, some sugar cubes, powdered creamer several Styrofoam cups and a covered plate of cookies.

A
n older woman about fifty or sixty with white hair stood up from a small desk behind a glass partition when they walked in, hearing the tinkling of a bell hanging across the door. She walked up to the backside of the old yellow and green tiled counter, brushing the crumbs of her late lunch off her mouth and oversized bosom. She slipped her glasses that hung from a string around her neck to her nose and glanced up. She smiled immediately to Sandra, screeching a God-awful noise that sounded like a seagull’s cry.

“Sandy Dennis!
As I live and breathe.” The woman came around the counter and pulled Sandra into a strong embrace as the younger woman laughed, returning her hug. Sandra turned to the handsome man beside her and smiled, taking his hand in hers.

“Aunt
Kissy, this is my husband Creighton Ashford.” The short stalky woman looked the man over briefly with her grey eyes and smiled, offering him a warm bear hug as a greeting.

“Welcome home honey,” she said turning back to Sandra. “I couldn’t believe it when Mary tol
d me yer had gone off and married a man ya met in France.” Kissy looked at Creighton with an appraising eye. “I need ta go on one of those Europoeein vacations and pick me up a good-lookin’ stud fer myself.” Sandra smiled, walking up to the counter with her
good lookin’ stud
.

“France was a great place, but England is even better, though not as warm.”

“Mary said yer buying a farm over there. Well, I tell ya, she could have knocked me over with a feather. Our lil’ Sandy movin’ ta England. Now don’t ya let those red coats get the best of ya, ya hear? I understand they don’t hanker up ta Americans like we do.”

“Everyone has been really great,” Sandra said, her smile growing wider. “Creighton’s
parents and sister lives just across the road from our house and his brother’s family is barely a stone’s throw away.”

“That’s good then, I suppose. If y
a can’t have yer own family nearby then at least ya got someone. Now, what are ya doing here? I thought Mary said yer stayin’ at home?”

“We don’t want to
inconvenience Nana and Papa,” Sandra said, anticipating the worse. “Creighton snores like a bear, it would scare Duke half to death.”

“Well now honey, I understand that. My old
Charles was like that, I can tell ya what. He’d ‘bout snore the barn doors off if we didn’t have ‘em latched. But Mary called and canceled yer reservations, and I ain’t goin’ ta get on the bad side of that Nana of yers. Why don’t ya folks go on down ta the house and see if ya can smooth things over? Ya know we’re always open.” Sandra drew a deep breath as she listened; she anticipated her grandmother would do something like this.

“You won’t get on Nana’s bad side, Aunt
Kissy. We really don’t want to stay there,” she lowered her voice as she leaned in to speak to the older woman. “We’re newlyweds, understand?” Kissy laughed softly and nodded her head.

“I may be old honey, but I ain’t dead. I’ll put y
a two up and if’n Mary has anything ta say ‘bout it, I’ll remind her how it was like when she first got married. I’m sure she’ll recollect a few times when she needed a closed door.”

Sandra turned to Creighton and smiled
; the lost look of what was happening around him echoed on his handsome face. She tightened her hand in his; Aunt Kissy had a way of making a person feel like they had just walked into the Twilight Zone.

“Here ya
go honey,” Kissy said a minute later handing her two metal keys that read 210. “Ya go on up ta yer room and put yer stuff ‘way before ya go see yer Nana, that way she can’t convince ya ta stay at the farm.”

“Thank you Aunt
Kissy,” Sandra said. “Do you still accept cash only?”

“No ma’am, Brandon done got us hooked up with that crazy inner-net and we can do
plastic cards now, but don’t ya worry none. This is on the house. There ain’t nothing I wouldn’t do fer our lil’ Sandy.”

“Thank you so much,” she said with another smile. “But my husband is very old fashioned and insist on paying
our way.” Sandra leaned in and lowered her voice again, causing Creighton to actually turn pink. “He’s loaded, more than old Bessie Harper when she died. He has more money than you can shake a stick at.”

“Well, in that case,”
Kissy said, taking the credit card the man handed her and running it through a small back slider. Creighton signed his name and took the receipt, thanking the older woman and following Sandra up the sidewalk to their room at the far end of the motel.

“I am so sorry,” he said once they were out of earshot of Aunt Kissy.

“For what?” Sandra asked, stopping in front of their assigned room.

“I didn’t realize how bad it was for you when you met my parents. I feel like I just walked into another
dimension.” Sandra laughed, unlocked the door and stepped inside ahead of him.

“You promised me a book on British slang, so I’ll pick you
up one on country dialect.”

“I’d rather have private lessons if it’s all the same with you,” he smiled, setting the bags down at the foot of the bed.
“I didn’t know you had another aunt? Why didn’t she come to England with the rest of your family?”

“Aunt Kissy really isn’t my aunt, people just call her that. She never had children of her own, so when her sister and brother-in-law were killed in a car crash thirty years ago, she adopted her
baby nephew, Brandon. She’s just always been Aunt Kissy. She and Uncle Charles owned this motel until he passed away about five years ago. Brandon owns it now; she just works here to have something to do. Uncle Charles invested heavily in the stock market and made a small fortune. I guess if you want to think about people of monetary means, Aunt Kissy is probably the town’s richest, but she doesn’t let on that she’s better than anyone else because of it.”

He nodded silently; the town wasn’t much different than Yorkshire, just on a different continent. He looked around the room as Sandra walked to the window, pulling the old green and yellow drapes open, and smiled. It
was small but efficient and at least it had a queen sized bed. The décor was much as it was in the lobby, older style green and yellow furniture that consisted of the bed, a small round table with two upholstered chairs and two wooden side tables.  Green carpet covered the floors and the walls were decorated in off yellow wallpaper, almost white, with small faded green leaves running along the borders.

“Not bad,” he said
with a smile; not what he was used to but it was quaint and comfortable. There was an old chest of drawers across from the bed holding a color television, coffee maker and telephone. The closet was between the bedroom and bathroom, which was a three piece room; tub with shower, sink and toilet, nothing elaborate or expensive. All in all, it wasn’t a bad room, clean and rather spacious for being so small. The bed was comfortable as he sat down on the end, bouncing on it like a child.

“Just in case we need it, there’s a cellar down below for
tornadoes,” she told him with an amused grin. “And a laundry room is available, though Aunt Kissy has always insisted on being hospitable and offers to warsh laundry for her guests. It gives the truckers a sense of being home.”

“Did you say warsh?” he snorted. “Why Mrs. Ashford, you have an accent.”

“Ah, hell no,” she snapped with an amused grin, forcing her
accent
to shine through. “Ya ain’t gonna start makin’ fun of my accent. Go look in the mirror, buddy boy. Yer worse than I ever could hope ta be.” Creighton erupted in a hearty laugh as he reached for her hand and pulled her down to straddle his lap. Sandra’s smile widened as she pushed him backward on the bed.

“I apologize, darling,” he smiled. “You don’t have an accent; you have a dialect.
I just realized, your sister and grandparents don’t have much of an accent either, do they?”

“Nana insisted that her children and grandchildren speak proper English,” she smiled. “She said it showed good manners to pronounce words the way they were spelled.” Creighton
nodded, his smile wide and relaxed as he looked around the room

“
At least the room is comfortable and clean.”

“We have everything of importance,” she assured him. “A toilet and a bed
; what more could a person ask for?”

“A headboard to tie you up to
would be nice, but I’m sure we can find another way to provide you with hours of enjoyment.”

“I thought as much.” She laughed as he rolled her over and positioned her beneath him, kissing her neck and collarbone.

“I believe Mrs. Ashford; you owe me for not letting me take advantage of you on the plane.”

“My grandparents are expecting us,” she argued, though weakly.

“We can afford a short delay,” he insisted, reaching down between them and unzipping her pants. “After all, we’ve been on a plane for twenty hours. I’m in need of a quick romp.” Sandra laughed, lifting her hips off the mattress so he could tug her legs free of her pants. She kicked her shoes off and waited patiently as he tossed his pants on the floor to lay with hers before wrapping her arms around his neck.

“I love how accommodating you are,” he told her with a smile
, his fingers caressed her wet body.

“I love how eager you are to satisfy,” she
added with a wicked grin. “Now stop yer horsin’ ‘round and ride me.”

“Ride you?” he laughed, stretching out across her fully.

“Yer in Kansas darlin’,” she smiled. “Time fer ya ta accept a simpler way of life.”

“If you want me to ride you, you’d better be ready and accept the consequences.”

“Which are?”

“As horny as I am, you’re going to be left frustrated and eager the rest of the day.”

“We’ll see,” she said with a wide smile as he slipped into her.

Creighton did exactly as he
was ordered and began thrusting into her at a steady pace, but he seemed to forget that she too was on that plane the last twenty hours and was as desperate as he claimed to be. She closed her eyes, raised her legs around his hips and took him in deeper. Within a few ticks of the side table alarm clock, she found herself smiling when the dizzy sensation began to wrap her in its arms. Several second later and she clung to him, growling his name on the climatic wings of orgasm. Creighton joined her as he spilled himself into her tiny body, growling like a savage beast.

It was quick, short lived but necessary for both their composure
s and she couldn’t help but laugh as he fell on top of her.