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Coast to Coast

It was supposed to be a simple road trip, but you know what they say about best laid plans. Now, a little sister who couldn’t keep her hands to herself and a friend who should know better than to sleep with his best friend’s sister will face the consequences or crash and burn.

Age Rating: 18+ (Trigger Warning: Assault, Kidnapping, Miscarriage, Attempted Rape, Sexual Assault/Abuse, and Stalkers.)

 

Coast to Coast by Dellywrites is now available to read on the Galatea app! Read the first two chapters below, or download Galatea for the full experience.

 


 

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1

Summary

It was supposed to be a simple road trip, but you know what they say about best laid plans. Now, a little sister who couldn’t keep her hands to herself and a friend who should know better than to sleep with his best friend’s sister will face the consequences or crash and burn.

Age Rating: 18+

Original Author: Dellywrites

Cheyenne

Seven Years Earlier

Moonlight flooded my bedroom, the deep earthy smell of summer rain tickling my nostrils as I drifted awake. Glancing at my clock, I realized I’d only slept for an hour.

The sky must have opened up briefly while I dozed. Just enough to wet the grass and bring out the worms.

I sat up and swung my legs to the side of the bed, excitement buzzing through my veins. Nothing beat a fishing trip with live bait I plucked from the grass with my own two hands.

As soon as I finished morning chores, I’d sneak off to the lake with my best friend, Willow. She lived at the next farm over.

I cracked open my bedroom door, peering down the hall before tiptoeing to the top of the staircase. It was just after midnight, and everyone was in bed. The workday started early on a dairy farm. My brothers would be up in five hours, milking cows while my mom prepared breakfast.

I cut across the lawn toward the barn to get a pail, the cool breeze blowing against my long bare legs, sending my white nightgown flying above my knees. My bare feet sunk into the moist earth as I skipped happily across the grass.

I was fifteen that summer, hovering on the precipice between girlhood and womanhood. A late bloomer, I’d only recently started developing breasts and having periods.

The outside light from the bunkhouse illuminated the yard, threatening to expose my midnight adventure if anyone happened to look out the window. I ducked into the shadows. My brother’s best friend, Abe, was the only live-in farm hand staying with us that summer.

I was a tomboy, living a sheltered existence, with my childhood innocence intact. My knowledge about sex was limited, due to a lack of interest. I had better things to do than fantasize about a man sticking his penis inside me. Like fishing and hiking, and honing my baking skills.

A strange moaning sound drifted out the open window at the front of the bunkhouse. Maybe one of the pregnant barn cats wandered in there to give birth. I backed up against the wall when I realized Abe’s light was on.

Shit.

What if he saw me?

I waited to see if he would come out and drag my ass back up to the main house. Curiosity overcame fear as the weird noise grew louder. Cats didn’t talk. It was definitely a woman. And judging by the moans and oh Gods coming from her mouth, she was in some type of distress.

I crawled along the wall and pulled myself up to the window. A blonde girl was on her back on Abe’s bed, naked, and he was on top of her.

I knew I should’ve left. But I didn’t. I stood there, my feet rooted to the ground, staring in that window as Abe held her legs up on his shoulders and pounded into her. He was going at her so hard, her breasts bobbed up and down like buoys in the lake.

She cried out, begging him to fuck her harder and faster, and screaming about how good it felt. He was grunting like a pig, ordering her to come, over and over. I wasn’t sure what he wanted her to do, but she must have done it because he stopped saying come and yelled out fuck before letting go of her legs and flopping onto his back.

And that was the moment I saw my very first penis. I watched him peel off the condom and toss it aside. His cock pointed upwards, still very erect as I gazed in awe, the moonlight bouncing off the shiny head. That thing was huge.

No. Abe’s dick was massive.

Were they all that big? There was no way I could ever fit one of those inside me. I could barely get a tampon in my vagina.

I scrambled away on my hands and knees until I was out of sight of the bunkhouse. Then I hightailed it across the lawn, back to the safety of my house and my bedroom.

The worms were long forgotten as I visualized the scene I’d just witnessed. The images replayed in my head on a continuous reel.

My life was forever changed after that night. I became obsessed with sex, wanting to learn everything I could, so I would be prepared one day when a man wanted to do those things to me. I spent all my free time on the internet, reading articles and watching porn.

I never told anyone what I saw that night. Not even my best friend, Willow. My new interest was my dirty little secret. Abraham went away to UCLA that fall. His parents moved to Arizona, and he never came back to Vermont.

***

I pulled a rag from the pocket of my jeans, wiping the sweat from my brow.

Vermont was experiencing a warm spring. The walls of the old barn trapped the heat inside, turning it into a pressure cooker. It was only early May, but the weather forecast predicted we’d hit eighty.

“This is not how I wanted to spend my summer,” I grumbled, grabbing a shovel to start the miserable task of mucking the stalls.

I had a college degree. And I went to culinary school, graduating at the top of my class. I didn’t want to be a farmer. Yet, there I was. Shoveling shit.

I came home to lick my wounds and regroup. My family welcomed me with loving arms, providing the unconditional love and support I desperately needed. But there was always work to be done on a large dairy farm. Nobody got a free pass from chores.

My father died when I was twelve, leaving my older brothers with the responsibility to step up and run the farm. Chase and Cam stayed on after high school. They lived in the big farmhouse with their wives and kids, and my mom. The house was spacious enough with seven bedrooms, but it was still chaotic with four kids under the age of five running around.

I grabbed the handles of the old rusty wheelbarrow, pushing it outside to the manure pile. How the hell did cows shit that much?

It was so hot, I could see steam rising from the towering pile of excrement. I cursed under my breath as I stomped back into the barn, the bottoms of my hot pink rubber boots caked in hay and cow shit.

I was so caught up in my pity party, I didn’t hear my brother come in. I screamed when I felt arms encircle my waist before he picked me up, spinning me around.

“Craig!” I squealed. “When did you get here?”

“Ten minutes ago,” he replied, setting me back on my feet. He ran his fingers through his thick blond hair, wrinkling his nose. “It’s fucking hot and smelly in here.”

“Well, duh!” I laughed, shaking my head. “Has Mom seen you?”

“No. I ran into Chase halfway down the driveway. He’s cutting grass in the west pasture. Said you were mucking stalls. So I headed here first.” He leaned against a post, sighing as he studied my face with a sympathetic frown. “How are you, kiddo?”

“I’m fine,” I lied.

Craig and I were close. Always had been, with only three years between us. We were like the babies of the family. The three older boys were in their thirties, with a huge age gap between them and us.

He tilted his head, his brow cocked. “Cheyenne Carson, cut the crap. You are not fine. Far from it.”

I shrugged. “What are you doing here anyway? As soon as Mom finds out you’re here, she’ll have a list of chores for you a mile long.”

“I’m not staying. I’m on my way to spend a few weeks at Cape Cod with Julie’s folks.”

I forced a smile. I’d only met Craig’s girlfriend one time. But it was enough to know she wasn’t right for him. They met at UCLA, where my brother had just completed a Master’s Degree in marketing. He had no intention of doing farm work for a living.

“Where is she?”

“She flew directly to Boston. I’ll meet up with her in a couple of days.”

“How long are you staying?”

“Just one night,” he said, yanking gently on my ponytail. “Now, stop changing the subject. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“No! I’m shoveling shit! How do you think I am?”

He nodded. “I figured as much. Have you talked to him?”

“No, Craig. And I’m not going to. The relationship is over. I told you that on the phone.”

“What happened? I thought you guys were happy. And then he proposed. He proposed, Cheyenne. And you turned him down.”

“And I told you I had my reasons, and I don’t feel like sharing them right now.”

I winced at the hurt expression on his face. But there were some things you just couldn’t share with your brother, no matter how close you were. He recovered quickly, grinning as he folded his arms across his chest.

“What are you so happy about?” I snapped. “If you’re gonna rub it in that I’m stuck here and you get to leave, save it.”

“What if I told you I could spring you for six weeks?”

“I’m listening.” I leaned the shovel against the wall and stared back at him expectantly.

“Well, remember that contest we entered? The one where we had to come up with a marketing campaign for that company that owns the chain of RV parks?”

“Oh yeah. The one with the forty thousand dollar prize and the trip across Canada. When do you find out if you won?”

“They announced the winners yesterday,” he said, grinning from ear to ear. “We won!”

“Holy shit, Craig!” I jumped into his arms, hugging him tightly. “That’s awesome!”

“I know. There’s just one small problem.”

I pulled back so I could see his face. “What?”

“Emily, the fourth member of our group, can’t go now. Her mother was just diagnosed with stage four cancer. She only has weeks to live.”

“Oh my God. That’s awful.”

“Yes. So we need a replacement for her.”

“Why can’t the three of you go on the trip?”

“Because Julie’s super religious, overprotective father won't let her go on a trip across Canada in an RV with two guys. There has to be another girl.”

“Are you asking me to go?”

“Yeah. You’d get away from the farm for six weeks. Go on a trip across Canada in a fancy RV. You’d get to do all kinds of cool shit that you love, like hiking and fishing. And you’d get paid ten grand. What is there to think about, sis?”

“Yes!” I squealed, jumping up and down. “Fuck yeah, I’ll go.”

“It’s going to be a blast,” he said. “I’ve gotta call Abe and Julie, and tell them you agreed to go.”

“Okay. I’ve gotta get back to shoveling shit.”

“You do that,” he said, chuckling as he pulled out his cell and wandered outside.

So, I was going to spend six weeks with Abraham McLean. I had not laid eyes on my brother’s best friend in seven years. Not since that summer I saw him fucking the girl in the bunkhouse. The night my sexuality awoke, eliciting dirty thoughts and desires from deep within my psyche.

Abe was the starring character in most of my sexual fantasies. And the intense need to be thoroughly and truly fucked, still burned strong.

Despite having three sexual relationships under my belt, I’d yet to find what I’d been yearning for since I was fifteen. I couldn’t even have an orgasm. Well, I could if I was alone. But no man had ever given me one. I’d gotten pretty good at faking after my first boyfriend dumped me because of my inability to come. Maybe there was something wrong with me. Perhaps my expectations of sex were unrealistic.

I picked up the rake and started spreading fresh hay in the stalls, laughing at my stupidity. As if Abe McLean would have any interest in me. And even if he did, my brother wouldn’t let him anywhere near me.

Nope. My trip across Canada would be a celibate trek.

 

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2

Abe

“I’ll have a vodka on the rocks,” I said, my eyes roaming up and down the voluptuous body standing next to my seat. I never passed up an opportunity to ogle a set of DDs. I smiled while the stewardess mixed my drink on her little cart, throwing her a suggestive wink when she handed it to me. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

She rolled her eyes before continuing down the aisle. I took a sip of my drink and chuckled to myself.

Yeah, okay.

She was probably close to forty, but she was hot. A hot chick is a hot chick, regardless of age. And I was a shameless flirt to any woman I deemed fuckable.

What were the odds of finding a single woman under fifty in an RV park?

Very fucking slim.

How the hell was I gonna get through six weeks without sex? I’d had every intention of sinking myself inside Emily every night. That ginger was all tits and ass. And now she’d been replaced with Craig’s weird little sister.

Fuck me.

Craig’s whiny, annoying girlfriend was bad enough. That chick did not belong in the Canadian wilderness.

Oh well. You do what you gotta do. The ten grand would come in handy, not to mention the boost to my resume. And I was looking forward to hanging out with my best friend and doing some cool shit.

I downed the remainder of my vodka, the liquor leaving a pleasant burn in my throat while I gazed out the window.

The plane soared over the Nevada desert, heading north to Canada. I’d never been outside the United States. Hopefully, Canada wasn’t too cold.

I wasn’t one of those foolish Americans who believed Canada was covered in snow and ice, with everyone living in igloos. But still. It was fucking Canada.

When I landed in Vancouver, my travel companions would be waiting for me. They flew out from the east coast the night before and stayed in a hotel. Then we had to drive our rental to Honeymoon Bay, where someone from corporate would meet us with the RV.

***

I grabbed my suitcase from the carousel and headed toward the exit where Craig said he was waiting. I texted him as soon as I landed.

Fucking old people and stupid women with strollers. Neither of which belonged in the airport. I muttered under my breath as I weaved through the throngs of people.

When I passed through the sliding glass doors, a blast of hot air delivered my first lesson on Canadian summers. They were no fucking different from ours. I spotted the red Chevy Tahoe sitting at the curb and headed toward it, pulling my suitcase behind me.

“Over here, Abe,” Craig called out, appearing from the driver’s side of the vehicle. He opened the hatch when I approached.

“Holy.” The back of the SUV was loaded with luggage. “Do you have any room left?”

“Yeah,” he said, laughing as he rearranged the suitcases and cleared a spot for mine. “Julie doesn’t travel light.”

“She’s aware she’s going camping, right? Not attending parties and charity balls every night?”

“I heard that!” she yelled from the front seat, her whiny voice piercing my eardrums.

Fuck me. It was gonna be a long six weeks.

“Julie can’t sit in the back,” Craig said, slamming the door shut. “She gets car sick. So, you either have to drive, or sit in the back with Cheyenne.”

“I had a couple stiff drinks on the plane, so you better drive.”

“No problem.”

As soon as I climbed into the backseat, I knew there would be a lot of cold showers in the near future. Craig’s little sister was not how I remembered her.

Not at all.

Cheyenne Carson was all grown up. And she was hot. Fucking hot. And totally off limits.

“Hi, Abraham,” she said, her soft, smooth voice like melting butter in a warm pan.

“Wow. How long has it been?” I licked my lips as my eyes took in her gorgeous face.

Long blond hair, cornflower blue eyes, luscious pink lips. My eyes traveled down her long, lithe body, pausing briefly at her chest. Plump, round breasts filled out her pink tank top, with just enough cleavage to give me a glimpse of the supple, creamy flesh underneath.

And her legs.

Holy fuck.

Tanned, muscular, and they went on for miles. I wondered how tall she was. It was hard to tell when she was sitting down.

“Seven years,” she replied with a shy smile as she caught me checking her out.

“You grew up,” I said, picking my jaw up off the floor. And out. In all the right places. “So, what are you up to these days?”

Her face fell. “I’m kind of between things right now. I just finished culinary school, and I’m hoping to find a job as a pastry chef.”

A conversation with Craig filtered into my brain. Cheyenne just got out of a two-year relationship. The guy proposed. Instead of accepting, she dumped the dude. I didn’t pay too much attention at the time, because I had no idea Cheyenne Carson was hot and fuckable.

I was pretty sure my best friend wouldn’t approve of me hitting on his little sister, but fuck. It would be damn near impossible to stop myself with that sexy little honey underfoot for six weeks.

“What are your plans now that you’re done with school?” She glanced over at me, a knowing smirk sliding across those sexy lips.

Oh boy. She knew I was mentally drooling over her. And she was enjoying the attention.

“I accepted a position at an advertising firm in New York City. I start the week after we get back.”

“Wow. Congratulations. You must be very excited.”

I shrugged. “I guess.”

She laughed softly before turning to stare out the window.

“How far is it to Honeymoon Bay?” I asked, leaning forward between the seats.

“Three-and-a-half hours,” Craig replied. “Could be longer, depending on the ferry.”

“Ferry?” Julie asked.

“Yes,” Craig said with a brisk chuckle. “We have to get over to Vancouver Island somehow.”

“I didn’t know that. I can’t go on boats. I get seasick.” She glared at Craig. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You have a copy of the itinerary.” He shook his head, concentrating on the heavy traffic as we exited the airport. “It’s a massive boat. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

I leaned back in my seat. Cheyenne glanced over at me, rolling her eyes at the same time I rolled mine. A soft giggle erupted from her throat.

I laughed. Hard. So hard I doubled over, clutching my stomach.

She threw her head back with a roar that sounded like it came from a three hundred pound man, not a tiny girl. Actually, a tiny woman. Cheyenne was definitely a woman.

“What’s so funny back there?” Julie asked, turning in her seat to peer at us with her beady little green eyes.

Tears poured down Cheyenne’s face while she continued to laugh uncontrollably. I wasn’t even sure what we were laughing at anymore. Definitely Julie. And I guess the fact that we rolled our eyes at the same time.

Then Cheyenne got the hiccups. Loud hiccups that made her sound like a seal barking.

“Have a drink, Cheyenne,” Craig said.

“Here.” I handed her my bottle of water. She accepted it, gulping back a large drink.

“Thanks,” she said, handing the bottle back to me.

“No problem.”

I took a swig from the bottle without tearing my eyes away from her. It tasted like strawberry Chapstick. I ran my tongue around the rim of the bottle, collecting every last taste of her before smacking my lips. Then I winked at her.

Her eyes widened, her face turning a deep shade of scarlet. She turned away to look out the window again, a tiny smile playing on her lips.

 

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