Volunteering Your Heart

by Lo'Ren A Mayler

  Suddenly, the fingers were no longer touching her, they were inside her. Filling her, “Oh Jak, Yes. Oh god, don’t stop.”

  Sam couldn’t keep from calling out the name. Her body burst into flames the instant Jak took her nipple into her mouth. Riding her into oblivion as wave after wave crashed upon the shore. Sam screamed out as she exploded all over Jak’s hands. Kissing the succulent lips as she came down from the high. The hand reluctant to relinquish its prize. Instead, a finger moved across her swollen center and she was hoisted into Jak’s arms.

  “Which way is the bed?” Jak asked in a husky, hungry voice. Sam’s arm pointed the way as Jak whisked them away with the next tide.

  Once in the bedroom, she was practically thrown onto the pillow top. The instant she reached the mattress, Jak pounced. Her body already trembling from the vigorous activity. If there was more, she would surely get lost somewhere in the stratosphere and never return.

  It was hours later before Sam begged for a reprieve. Her body completely satisfied and exhausted. Never had she been the object of such intense focus. Jak would not let up. Nor would she allow Sam touch her in turn. All she wanted was to satisfy Sam, and that she did. Leading her to an island in the middle of a vast ocean, one filled with promises of otherworldly delights. A place she hoped to never return from.

  She tried to voice her satisfaction but the words all slurred together in a humming noise. Jak smiled as she ran a hand over her torso, drawing lazy circles around the circumference of her chest. Sam laughed. She felt hysterical. Her body was humming. She knew she would not stay awake long and wished for a coherent thought.

  Jak felt her shirt being pulled towards her prize for a kiss. She had wanted to make an impression on Sam she would not soon forget. Once she started, she couldn’t stop. The hunger ran too deep. Like a feral beast, she had been released from years of containment. Had she been in a cage all along?

  Of course, she wanted Sam to touch her, but she couldn’t take her hands from the luscious frame. Sam’s lips were sweet and soft against her own, acting as a catalyst. Her hunger threatened to overtake her again.

  “Why are you still wearing this?” Sam was gripping the borrowed shirt. Her sky-blue eyes dazed from hours of passion.

  “I’m not sure. I got a little lost in the moment.”

  She slipped it off and removed the sweats with lightning speed. “Better?” She asked as she pulled Sam into her arms.

  At last, she was able to feel the silky skin against her own. She didn’t want to let Sam rest. To have to stop touching, exploring, but the look on her face told of complete and utter exhaustion. She had no choice but to give in. To allow Sam a brief reprieve. Sam’s head laid to rest on her chest, her arm and leg draped across her body. Jak gazed at the golden fan, wide awake and aching from the inside. Lying like that until she heard the rhythmic breathing that told of Sam’s slumber.

  Jak turned off her pager before going into the apartment, not wanting to be interrupted. Carefully extracting herself, she reached for her phone that was now vibrating on the floor. With an unbelieving stare, she watched as Edispatch went off. Fire alarm? What is going on with these calls lately? Jak started collecting her belongings, then looked intently at the woman still resting peacefully. If you leave again, in the same night, she will hate you. Could she live with that?

  Jak silenced her phone. Nothing was more important, in that moment, than Sam. How could an alarm possibly compare to the wonders of the naked woman lying before her? Jak grabbed the blanket that had been thrown to the floor earlier in the night. Pushing away the physical response her body had to such a beautiful sight. There would be time later to give in to her urges.

  “Hey, where are you going?” Sam mumbled sleepily. Jak pulled the blanket over her and climbed into bed.

  “Absolutely nowhere.”

  As she wrapped her arms around Sam’s waist, Jak couldn’t believe she was even here, in this bed, holding this incredibly responsive woman. Gently moving a fallen blonde lock from her lover’s face. Still feeling the stirrings low in her belly. An increasingly urgent need to feel Sam, to have all of her. Instead of staking her claim, Jak put her head on the pillow and attempted to close her eyes. If only for a little while.

  X

  “Where have you been all weekend? We had six calls in the last two days,” Mike inquired as she walked into the firehouse. He was always there when he wasn’t working. It was a home away from home. His irritation only succeeding in making her smile widen as she placed a coffee in front of him.

  “Excuse me. Weren’t you the one to advise me not to leave the company of a beautiful woman? Told me I was crazy to respond.”

  “Wait? Seriously? She actually took you back.”

  “You could say that.” Or I could say that Sam refused to let me out of bed. That every time I tried to get up, I was pulled back down to a land of enchantment. A place filled with physical gratifications and everlasting euphoria.

  “You’re pullin my chain. Even you aren’t that good.”

  Jak was not about to tell Mike how unbelievable her weekend had been. She couldn’t anyway. It was beyond comprehension. If she hadn’t been there, she wouldn’t believe it herself.

  “Holy hell. Okay, you win. Don’t worry about the calls, they were BS anyway.”

  “Oh, and her condo is the entire twenty-fifth floor.”

  Jak walked around the corner laughing, leaving him dumbfounded in the engine room.

  She didn’t have plans to see Samantha again, yet, and would be hard pressed to find time before the weekend. Unfortunately, that was the price for opposite schedules. Maybe I can sneak a few minutes with her…since she works right up the road. More than willing to lose sleep, anything to spend a few more hours with Sam.

  Joking with Mike was great fun, but she would never tell him anything that actually mattered. What difference would it make if she did? He didn’t understand affairs involving the heart and would tease her endlessly. Besides, it was private. No one needed to know how Sam bit her lip when she was turned on. The way her hair became a golden fan on the bed. The wonderfully delicious sound she made after every orgasm.

  Jak had taken the time, on Sunday, to inquire how thin the floors and ceilings were. She didn’t want to be the topic of conversation, or complaints, in the elevator. Thank goodness the entire apartment had been sound proofed. She assumed it was a selling point for potential buyers. All the privacy of owning your own home without the hassle of nosy neighbors or yard work.

  Pulling out of the lot, as she headed home for some much-needed rest. Just get a few hours of sleep, to avoid dropping at work. Besides, if she was able to see Sam later, she would need the energy.

  Sam was listening to Benedict’s monologue after learning of Beatrice’s love.

  They seem to pity the lady; it seems her affections have their full bent. Love Me? Why, it must be requited.

  As much as she loved a good comedy, she preferred it as acted out on a stage or in her head, where the comedy actually came through. The misinformation, misinterpretations and of course the outright bickering between the two. None of the emotions were present in the classroom. It was more than the students being monotone, the humor delivered dryly. Sam hated watching something she loved be destroyed every year.

  Maybe she should read something she hates next time. Of course, finding a work worthy of such distain would be difficult. She could always use generic books. The same ones she had read in school: Romeo & Juliet, Julius Caesar, Hamlet and Macbeth. They were exemplary reading material, but there were only so many times she wanted to hear “O Romeo, Romeo”.

  Sam glanced out the window at the gloomy early September day, the weather reflecting her mood. The sun could barely be seen through the overcast sky. She felt the sun straining, trying to break free, to shine on her. Dark clouds loomed overhead, thwarting the sun’s plans. She didn’t want to be trapped at school. She didn’t want to have to get out of bed. She didn’t want to be listening to
Ethan butcher Shakespeare.

  Somewhere, in that very same town, there was a woman that brought her to the edge. Left her teetering on the precipice. Debating the collective knowledge she had accumulated in her thirty-six years on this earth. Beneath her feet, into the abyss, was the void, filled with everything she felt when she was with Jak. The emotions she didn’t know existed; had no idea she was capable of feeling. The way her body responded when they were tangled up in joy and ecstasy. It was the decision she wasn’t sure she was given a choice to make. One more push and she would fall into the chasm.

  Wendy approached her in the hall. Sam had not seen, or spoken to, the cheerleading coach since getting stood up. She should be mad, furious. All though, if Wendy had shown, would she have met Jak? If she had cancelled, Sam would have never went to the bar at all. Maybe I should thank her for being a flake. As if.

  “I’m so sorry about the other night. I got held up; my friend was having a major meltdown.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Like she couldn’t send a text or, I don’t know, apologize a week ago!

  “Maybe we could try again? Or you could just come hang out during practice.”

  And there it was, the real reason for this conversation. Sam had suspected as much, but after a week and a half, she was doing good to not tell Wendy exactly where she could shove it. Preferably where the sun didn’t shine. Sam’s phone buzzed in her hand. It was a simple message from Jak, Busy tonight? She smiled, not only would she see Jak again, but she was saved the agony of going to practice with Wendy.

  “I’m sorry, I already have plans.” Thank goodness, “Don’t worry about the other night. Is your friend okay?”

  Sam half listened as Wendy rambled on about her friend’s boyfriend being a steaming pile of poo. Instead, she occupied her mind with thoughts of the interesting ways the English language was manipulated to be acceptable for the workplace.

  ***

  How? He had heard it with his own ears or he wouldn’t believe it. Jak stayed at Samantha’s all weekend. How? The question repeated in his mind, like a broken record skipping and hissing. She must be lying. It isn’t possible. That’s it. I will prove her wrong, keep her from spreading nasty rumors about my sweet Samantha. There was no way she would want anything to do with someone that skipped out on her, right? She was too smart for that. How stupid could someone get to leave an angel waiting in the wings? If she was with him, he would never leave her side. Keeping her safe, secure. Making sure she knew every day how wonderful she was. Put her up on a pedestal, where she belonged.

  He stuck by the school all day, lying in wait. Knowing her radiance was just beyond reach. Hidden beyond the brick walls. Every once in a while, he was able to spot her halo floating by a window. Giving a temporarily relief to his anxiety.

  Finished with administering knowledge to adolescence, she left in a little green buggy. Heading her usual way out of the school, away from Jak’s. Usually he followed from a distance, but the allegations had gotten under his skin. Crawling. Wriggling. Causing an itch, he couldn’t scratch. From now on he would keep a more watchful eye.

  It occurred to him that he may need a more active approach. Just following may not be enough to shield her from the encroaching darkness. He had to make sure they were not meeting somewhere. Hiding a foray, as Jak lured her into purgatory.

  Breathing easy as they turned onto S.W. Jefferson. Okay, see. She went home, not to Jak. He stayed in the car, idling in front of the building. Relief flooded him as he watched the little beetle pull into the parking garage. He took another deep breath, expelling the worry from his body. Now to prepare for a long night of surveillance. While he trusted Samantha to toe the line. He also knew the devil came in many forms, with many tricks hidden beneath her horns.

  Prior to placing the car in drive, he checked for oncoming traffic in his rear-view mirror. That is when he saw it. Jak’s large gray truck came whipping around the corner and parked on the street. Wasting no time as she ran to the door. Brainwash! His mind screamed as he watched Samantha buzz her into the building. Manipulation! She must be under a spell. Jak is a witch! What do I do?

  He pulled at his hair as panic set in. I have to get her back! Keep them apart somehow. Rocking in the seat as he racked his brain. Think! There has to be a way to break them up. She can’t have Samantha! I can’t let Jak pull her into that cult. I won’t allow it to happen! I won’t allow her to corrupt an angel!

  ***

  Jak was pulled by her shirt into the condo the moment the elevator door opened. Endeavoring to breathe through the fog of lust. Heart racing long before the elevator reached the landing. Could she have a heart attack at twenty-eight? Had all the excitement, adrenaline, finally caught up with her? She refused to give the thoughts a foothold in her mind.

  Could she ask for a better way to go? Stripped and practically dragged to bed, leaving a line of clothes in her wake. An arrow pointing the way back to the bedroom door. They hadn’t taken the time for pleasantries. There was no time for getting to know one another. Sam was demanding and Jak lived for the challenge.

  “I thought the day would never end.”

  Her lover lay spent beside her, yet Sam could find no respite from the tornado wreaking havoc in her mind. Swirling in every which direction, caught in a whirlpool of words. Tunneling from one idea to another with nothing but a spoon. She was caught in a maze of her own creation. Filled to the brim, ideas spilling out with no well to hold it.

  Finally willing herself to leave the comfort of bed. To grab a pen and pad. Promptly returning to lie beside her Romiette. Should it have been her name, Sam would have gladly re-read the book until the end of time. The pen moved of its own accord. Never having been able to write before, no matter how many times she tried. There had been a block. An unpickable door she could never enter. Yet, the words just flowed from her quill tonight. She felt inspired. Perhaps, instead of a seductress, Jak was her Rosalind. Inspiring her every pen stroke.

  Staring at Jak, all she saw were words, letters strewn about the page.

  Do you love what you see, who you think me to be?

  Her head felt full of unanswerable questions. Wondering at the rose that lie so near. Beautiful yet full of thorns. A warning, warding off intruders to a space she held dear. Do I let her see?

  Will you love the me inside, the one I’ve been trying to hide?

  She had never pondered the person her mother insisted her to be. If it was even the most advantageous direction for her life. Her mind was swirling again, pulling in her a hundred directions. Though it felt as if it were only two threads, all tangled together. One ending at her mother and, the other, in this bed. Can I trust her to know me?

  Will you think me insane, like I’m playing a game?

  The pen stilled with each new thought. Willing herself to hold onto the serenity Jak instilled in her as her mind traveled through time and space. There was so much to tell. She had never disclosed any fragment of her past to anyone. Never trusted them to understand. Her mother’s voice had dominated her life for so long. Was she capable of letting it go? Learning to adapt, to love and be loved in return? She had been taught that love was an illusion, meant to drag the weak minded down. To keep people, like her, in their place. If she was to ever escape, she would have to let go of such childish notions.

  The organization of a clothes drive actually meant that she wanted to touch dirty people’s clothes. If she volunteered at the soup kitchen she was a servant, no better than a maid. “You are ugly on the inside.” She flinched at the memory. “We will have to work extra hard on your looks to cover up that personality.” Amazed that it still stung after all these years. How could she expect Jak to accept her, when her mother could not?

  Having applied to college in secret because, “No man wants a woman that thinks. Getting an education is a waste of time and money.” She hadn’t bothered to tell her mother; she didn’t want a man. That she never wanted to be flaunted to his friends, treated as a trophy. How
dare she be anything but a statue, eye candy for the rich?

  When Sam looked down again, she had filled three pages, front and back. Was she writing? She remembered thinking, scrolling down a couple sentences, but did the pen move? It was odd to her that what she was thinking was not reflected on the page. None of the resentment was present. Only fear and pain. The scared little girl, living in a trailer park, hoping to please her mother.

  Hurriedly stashing her notebook in the bedside table, the instant Jak began to stir.

  “What are you doing up?”

  “Going to the kitchen. I’m getting hungry, think I worked up an appetite. Go back to sleep, you don’t have to be up for another hour.”

  She kissed Jak before leaving the room. She actually was hungry but, more accurately, she didn’t want Jak to see the pain still present in her eyes. She felt, at times, as if Jak could read her thoughts, see through the façade. A truly terrifying concept. Picking at some precut melon before going back to bed.

  The moment her head hit the pillow, Jak was there. Holding her, chasing away the demons. A blessing she didn’t know how to ask for, nor knew that she needed. Quieting the ever-present storm that was causing mayhem and destruction, banging on the attic door.

  XI

  Multiple fires were set in the coming weeks. He tried to keep Jak as busy as possible. Sometimes just pulling alarms or setting off sprinklers. It was no use. The only time he could keep Jak from Samantha, for any significant period of time, was when they were working or there was a structure fire. What do I have to do? How many fires do I have to light? More and more he noticed, Jak would not leave Samantha’s side unless it was a confirmed structure fire. Documenting all the calls that came in. Studying her response times. Trying to find the best approach to breaking them once and for all.