by K A Sands
“Yes.” She made no bones about it; I hadn’t expected any less of her.
“What the fuck did I ever do to you, Kayleigh huh?” We’d had the same argument over and over again with the same results, yet I could never get a reasonable answer out of her. I was boring. I was shit in bed. My ambitions weren’t lofty enough. My wages were crap... On and on, superficial bullshit that I’d heard a million times.
“You bored me, Warren.”
“Yeah, so you keep saying. It’s not worthy of the punishment of keeping my son from me,” I sighed.
“No wonder you’re still single. Never did know how to use that dick of yours.”
The barb had grown old quickly and since rolled off my back, not having the impact she thought it did. “Well, you know how to use what you’ve got, huh?” I crowded in toward her, pinning her to the side of my passenger door. “Nothing wrong with how I fuck. You want another go around, a reminder?”
What the hell was I doing? The last place my dick wanted to be was anywhere near her, the poor fella would probably shrivel the second he got up close and personal to her loose hole.
“I don’t have a girlfriend because being with you was more than enough for two lifetimes, never mind one.” I came back to my senses and stepped away. “I want him on Sunday nights. I’ll get him to school. Sort it out, or next time I see you, I’ll have a summons for family court.”
“We’ll see, Warren. Don’t count on it.” God, the woman frustrated me to the point I wanted to shove hot pokers in my eyes - or hers. “What happened to your head?”
Instinctively I reached up, fingering the cut Taylor had glued shut. “I hit my head at work. On a cabinet.” I lied.
She grunted, offering no sympathy, then sauntered to her car. “Don’t piss me off. You won’t like the consequences.”
Always with the threats. But I wasn’t foolish enough to ignore them, she’d have no qualms taking him away just to spite me. Treading carefully was the best foot forward. I had every right to demand the overnights and I was making damned sure I got them.
“See you Wednesday.”
Getting in my car, I peeled from the car park before she’d even got into the seat in her own car. I hated leaving my son but couldn’t wait to get away from her.
I didn’t go back to Beaufort, Kieran’s talk of Chrissie’s green shoes had me craving her presence whether she wanted my company or not. Knocking her door, I tried hard to shake off the agitation I felt at Kayleigh. I shouldn’t be bringing it to Chrissie’s door, she wouldn’t appreciate it, would hand me my arse, with just cause.
After what felt like an age, she finally opened the door, leaving it open in invitation to enter. The house was dim, only the scattered lamps giving light to dark corners. Following through to the living room, I took in the scene; a cushion on the floor and a half bottle of vodka sitting next to her suggested I’d disturbed a pity party for one.
Chrissie flopped down on the floor, where she’d clearly decided to set up camp for the night. There was no television on, no music in the background, just a depressing silence.
Kicking off my shoes and throwing my jacket onto the armchair, I made it known without words I wasn’t leaving her to stew herself. She gulped from the bottle, a healthy swig that had me wincing at the burn it was likely leaving on the way down.
She was in gym clothes. Lycra that stretched around her beautiful body, accentuating all those sumptuous curves she carried, the physical things I loved about this woman. As much as I enjoyed her attire, I wanted to strip her naked and get lost in the sensation of her. Wanted to take out my frustrations on her. Pound her into oblivion, while I blindly followed. Get lost in a space where we could both breathe without constraint for a second.
Judging by the amount of vodka she’d drunk, laying out my carnal desires would probably not go down too well.
“Chrissie,” I called from where I stood.
Blank, bloodshot eyes tilted upwards and gazed right through me. She was wasted, lost in her own world and not intent on extending the invitation to join her yet.
“Tomorrow,” she stated, swigging another mouthful from the bottle.
Having a rough idea what that word meant for her, the vodka drinking was suddenly abundantly apparent. She was worried. No, she was scared and that wasn’t her at all. Chrissie had always taken the world head on and not much rattled her.
Yet, there she was, collapsed on a cushion on her living room floor - drunk, scared and alone. Any apprehensions I had over Chrissie melted when her tear stained cheeks glinted in the muted light. I wasn’t having it. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever. Whether she was in the mood, ready or not, we were having it out tonight and either moving forward together or saying goodbye. She had to understand she had people, people who loved her and wouldn’t let her down, people who cared. She was no longer on her own.
As if to punctuate the point, her mobile rang from another room. She made no move to answer it, instead taking another hard pull from the bottle.
Time to sober her up.
I sprang at her, plucking the bottle easily from her hand. “No more,” I all but growled as I turned and went hunting for her phone, taking the bottle with me.
Locating the phone in the kitchen, I noted the six missed calls from her brother and texted back I was with her, that Chrissie was fine. I did the same from my own phone, hoping it was enough to keep Ryder from barging her door down and put him at ease. Once I’d done that, I tipped the rest of the bloody vodka down the sink.
Back in the living room I went, Chrissie hadn’t moved. She was staring at the floor, her hands clasped on top of her thighs splayed out in front of her. Her quiet was disconcerting, it had been a while since I’d heard her speak to me and I craved it more than anything. I was used to her sassy mouth going a mile a minute, I missed it.
“Chrissie,” I tried again, hoping for more than a one-word answer. No such luck, she continued on with the silent treatment. Deciding on the best course of action, I crouched down next to her and lifted one of her hands into mine to hold. “I think you need to get in the shower, then get some food down you. Sober you up a bit.”
“Sounds good,” she finally agreed. “Will you stay?”
“Yeah, darling. Not going anywhere.” It had been a long time since I’d cared for a woman in the way Chrissie needed, I hoped like hell I didn’t fuck it up. “You think you can get up off the floor?”
Slowly, after pulling her hand from mine, she rose to her feet, wobbling as she stood. Doing the same, I grasped for her hand again while she leaned into me for support.
“Shower,” she mumbled.
“Let’s go.”
We climbed the stairs together, her leading me into her bedroom at the end of the hall. The smell of fresh paint and new carpet over rode anything else. “You decorate?” I asked, looking around.
“Something like that.”
Pushing open the door to the en suite, she searched for the light pull and when she tugged the chain, the bathroom flooded in harsh, white light. Wasting no time, Chrissie began stripping off the skin-tight gym clothes, dropping each garment at her feet until she was standing naked in the middle of the small room.
This was not a sexual invitation, but my dick took no notice as my eyes travelled the length of her body, my boxers feeling tighter than a moment before. Chrissie was a beautiful woman, no other woman I’d screwed around with - and there’d been many - held a candle to her. I couldn’t help taking my fill of her. Those milky white globes of flesh propped high on her chest, dusky nipples winking at me, tightened peaks begging for my tongue. My perusal didn’t stop there, and as I blatantly ogled her thin waist and the neat thatch of dark hair between her legs, I felt utterly ashamed. Like I was taking advantage of her vulnerability. Snapping my attention to the shower, I cursed at my arousal for sky rocketing at the worst of times.
I wasn’t standing in her house for that reason, didn’t want to take anything from her. I wanted to give. Show her
the other side. That a man could care for her, love her and not want anything in return. And I would show her those things, when the time was right.
Flicking on the shower, I motioned for her to get in. “I’ll make you a coffee. You be all right until I get back?”
She hummed what I took to be an affirmation, so I swung quickly from the bathroom and headed back downstairs where I made her a strong cup of the black stuff. Ryder had texted back, her phone alight in the semi-dark room. Not reading it, I surmised he would be okay I was with his sister and wouldn’t be charging in anytime soon. My phone had stayed silent.
Just to make sure, I headed to the front door intending to lock up for the night. It wasn’t all that far past eight at night, but I had nowhere else to be, with no intentions of leaving Chrissie to wallow alone.
The alarm system spooked me when I saw it; brand spanking new and expensive. Ryder must have had it installed, making sure she was safe in her own home. It went a long way to punctuating the situation Chrissie was in.
Trundling back upstairs, I placed the two coffees on one of the bedside tables before going back into the en suite.
I wasn’t prepared for seeing Chrissie on the floor when I entered. Huddled in the corner of the shower, knees up to her chin, her dark, wet hair across her face, Chrissie was effectively hiding. And crying; soft cries loud over the hiss of water in the small space.
My heart split in two at the destitution before me. This wasn’t Chrissie, not the woman I knew.
Stripping down to my boxers, I climbed in and sat my arse on the cold floor tiles of the cubicle then hauled her into my lap, wrapping my arms around her trembling body. I would give her five minutes then she was talking. We were done with the silence and the impasse.
“You shouldn’t be here,” she cried.
“Why not?”
“I’m no good for you, Warren. It’s too dangerous. What if they come?”
“Then you won’t be alone.” Obvious statement, but hopefully she was listening.
Looking at me, tears sliding down her face, she reached out to trace a finger over the wound that was taking its time to heal. “They already came at you.”
Shivering at the memory, not wishing to ruminate on the details, I shrugged. “I’m okay. Don’t worry about me.”
“I killed my father. What kind of a person does that?” Her sniffles were slowly subsiding, but sadness still punctuated her words. “I’m sorry you got involved.”
“I don’t think any less of you, Chrissie. It doesn’t make you a monster. Judging by the kind of man he was, you did what you had to.”
“He taunts my dreams every single fucking night. I can’t sleep for thinking about him.”
Chrissie had done some choice things in her past, through necessity, didn’t make her a bad person even with the death of another on her hands. “It will fade in time, I promise.”
“What if it doesn’t?”
What answer could I give her? I’d never had nightmares, even off the back of an almost rape and seeing my lover’s dead father slumped in the kitchen with blood spilling from his chest. I slept soundlessly most nights, unless I was over thinking something and looking for an angle. Of late, my sleep had been poor, but it wasn’t nightmares that made me restless and kept me awake.
“I’m here for you, don’t wanna be anywhere else. These past few months with you, you’re kinda under my skin. If I can make things easier for you, I will.”
“I like you here.” Chrissie smiled at me then, tentative but genuine, her body relaxing into mine. “I don’t know what tomorrow looks like but I’m better now you’re here. Thank you.”
Kissing her forehead, I ran a hand down her dripping wet hair, smoothing out the water and tangles. “Come on. It’s not comfy down here.”
We both stood, Chrissie reaching out to shut off the water still cascading over us while I grappled around the vanity for towels. Wrapping her up in the soft terry cloth first, she snuggled into my hand as I laid it upon her cheek. Shyness stole at her and she bowed her head, I gave her the minute she needed.
Stepping out of my soaking wet boxers, I tucked another fresh towel around my waist and made my way through to the bedroom with Chrissie at my back, her hand clutched in mine.
“Get that coffee down you. You want some food?”
She shook her head while she lifted her cup, drinking the lukewarm liquid in one go. Lifting back the duvet on her bed, she dropped her towel and climbed in, pulling the covers up over her breasts. I followed suit, didn’t wait for her to ask me to get in, it had been too long since we’d shared the same bed and I missed the warmth of her skin against mine.
I kept a hold of the towel, so I could dry off her long hair. “Turn around.”
Chrissie shuffled around on the bed then got up on her knees, giving me her back. Mimicking the pose, I slid in behind her, keeping some distance between us. Her naked back was a stark contrast to the myriad of colours that danced up and down the length of her arms, only marred by three small moles that nestled perfectly between the bumps of her spine. I gently kissed each one, my hand ghosting underneath her wet hair, gathering the strands in my hand. Taking the towel, I rubbed and patted at her head, the excess moisture collecting on the terry cloth.
“Brush?” My voice was hoarse, and my dick was beginning to get hard being so close to the beautiful woman in front of me. When she bent forward, I threw the towel on the floor and with a shaky hand, I reached out, twisting so my knuckles coasted down the expanse of her back, dipping in and out of the protruding bone.
She sucked in a loud breath the same moment my own hitched. It was the moment, the moment was everything.
It was all too much.
Angling my erection downwards, I wrapped an arm around her waist and came up on my knees, tugging Chrissie to my chest firmly. Swiping her damp hair from her shoulder, I gave in to the temptation and kissed the nape of her neck over and over while I rubbed my length underneath her, her supple flesh hot against me. A slight back and forth movement from her telling me what I was doing was okay for now.
With tightened fingers at her hip, I suckled and bit lightly at her neck, all too aware of the goose bumps running riot across her skin. When I sunk my teeth in harder, a whimper rolled through her body and I sat down on my calves pulling her back further, so she was sitting on my lap, my cock trapped under her bottom. My hand at her hip trailed back across her stomach and down towards the promised land, when she opened her legs wider, I swiped through her wet pussy with a groan of satisfaction.
Silk. She felt like silk, the finest I’d ever touched, the softest I’d ever encountered.
This woman owned me.
The brush forgotten, her hands twisted up around my neck and she stretched like a cat, digging her nails into the scalp of my head before tangling her fingers in my hair. Her head fell backwards, her eyes closed. Weaving my other hand around her body, I cupped her breast, kneading the flesh in tandem with each little plunge of my finger into her soft centre.
The moment was delicate but the heat between us shifted into something... more. Something I knew I’d only ever have with this woman.
“Turn around,” I said again.
Taking her from behind was not what I wanted. When I filled her up from the inside out, I didn’t want her mistaking me for someone who was selfishly taking. I wanted Chrissie to see what I was giving, that this was more than the carnal act of sex.
Without fanfare, she twisted in my lap, my cock springing up between us. Her eyes connected with mine when she finally opened them, and she stared at me a long while, searching my face for something only she knew. Perhaps for the lies she was so used to reading in her past lover’s faces, perhaps for the love I could no longer hide.
Eventually she gave a nod then wrapped her arms around my neck, her legs around my waist.
“Make love to me?” she begged, her voice so broken, tears welled in my eyes hearing it.
Rubbing my thumb across the bottom of
her wetted lips, I watched as she heaved in a breath and tipped back her head, her throat calling to me. Only then did I allow myself to get carried away, get lost in her the way she would get lost in me. It was an intoxicating realisation that came too quick to fully comprehend there and then, but this woman had my heart in her hand, something I never thought would be possible again.
Lust thundered through my veins, a cacophony of thuds threatening to drown out all else around us. She wasn’t close enough, wasn’t happy enough. Wasn’t yet mine.
Opening my legs wider, I reached down between us and with little effort positioned myself at her entrance, her slick pussy waiting to be owned. Waiting for me.
“You want this?” I whispered, as I slid my cock back and forth, teasing, not quite penetrating.
“Yes,” she hissed as her head came back down and she watched me with dazed eyes.
With leisurely restraint, I pushed into her as my hand at the small of her back pulled her closer. My dick was big, I wasn’t bragging, it was simply a fact, and perhaps once I’d been naïve in all the ways in which I could drag pleasure from a woman, but not now. I angled upwards, inching inside, her heat swathing me. She’d take it all, not because it was easy but because I’d make sure of it, I wouldn’t be happy until I was balls deep in her. We fit together, in all the right ways.
A wiggle of her hips and a whispered sigh hinted at Chrissie’s contentment as I dragged back out then plunged in again with a little more force, nipping at her exposed throat while she stretched upwards, like she was reaching for the stars. Stars I would give her if I had the means.
“You gonna take it all?”
Loud moans were answer enough, and when I grabbed her hips, fingers digging into her flesh, I lost my composure. The need to consume took over. It wasn’t enough to go slow anymore. Tensing my leg muscles, I drew back again then fucked deep into her until there was no place else to go, no space between us.
“Argh!” she cried out, her head whipping down to my shoulder, her teeth piercing my skin, the pain making me shudder violently.
We were wrapped around one another, my dick deep inside, our heartbeats thudding loudly between us. There was no letting go, no walking away.