by Sandy Lowe
I want to feed from her. Take her in my mouth and suck so hard she comes out of her skin. But I’m getting off on the dirty talk and I don’t want her to stop.
“Hurry,” she says.
“I don’t want to,” I say. “I want to take my time, take you in slowly.” Playing a woman’s body long and slow is the third thing I’m really, really good at. But she wants none of it, and though I love a woman talking dirty in bed, I’m not ready for her.
She sits up, grabs my face, and kisses me. She owns me with her tongue and then pulls away, biting my lower lip in the process. I make a noise of protest, of slight pain, but there isn’t time to complain, for her hand has dug down into my shorts and found me, wet and hungry. She strokes me—I tremble and she laughs. Then her fingers frame my engorged clit and squeeze.
“Give it to me,” she says. She bites my lip again. “Now.” She squeezes harder, then strokes, and I make noises I don’t recognize as coming from me.
“Fucking do it or I fucking play you.”
She lies down again and removes her hand from my center. Both of her hands then knot in my hair and she’s pulling me to her, raising her hips to meet my mouth. I give in, so turned on I’m ready to spontaneously combust. I take her flesh like I’m dying and suck so hard she screams. I laugh, pleased at her response, and begin to bob as I suck, giving her a little tongue as I pull back each time.
She scratches my back, scalp, and shoulders as she writhes beneath me, crying out, thrusting, and squeezing her eyes closed. When she comes she goes hoarse, sits straight up, holds my head to her until I’m nearly smothered.
“Fucking hell,” she rasps, pulsing against me one last time before releasing me to collapse back on the bed. My ears are ringing and I struggle for breath, but I manage to laugh and roll to my side. In an instant she’s on me, pushing me to my back and straddling me.
“You like that?” she asks.
“Yeah,” I breathe.
She massages my breasts and pinches my nipples. “You’re fucking something else,” she says. “I knew you would be.”
She reaches back, finds my flesh and begins to milk me. “You see, I’ve been wanting you for a while now. Watching. Waiting. Learning all I can about you. And then when Pamela told me about your books…I could hardly control myself.”
I jerk against her, so close I can hardly concentrate on her words.
“I made sure I ran into you as much as possible. Waiting…for you to notice.”
“I did notice,” I say.
She stops her hand. Teasing me. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
I lift my hips. “Like what? You’re married.”
She grins. “I was afraid that was what was stopping you.” She milks me again, bringing me right to the edge. “It’s important to you, that I’m not with him?”
I buck, grip her hips. “Yeah—yeah.”
She stops and I groan.
“What about kids? You know I have the kids.”
“Love the kids,” I say. “Please.”
“I don’t love him,” she says. “I haven’t for a long time. You believe me?” Her eyes are dark and serious and her upper lip trembles.
I touch her face, trace her jaw with my fingertips. “Kiss me,” I say.
She bends, kisses me. Softly, then deeper, and then fierce.
She pushes herself back up, grinds her flesh against my abdomen, and reaches back to find mine. She strokes me as she moves, and we both pant and moan and sweat in the low light. She closes her eyes and quickens, opens them and asks if I’m going to come.
I say yes and she explodes atop me and I buck up into her hand and nearly knock her off. We lock hands and she plays me, harder, faster, until I’m screaming and writhing and shoving back into my pillow. And just before my waves of orgasm dissipate, she moves down my body and finds me with her hot mouth. New waves come, bigger, stronger, and I shatter into her, my fingers lost in her hair. When I eventually still, she looks up at me, grins, and climbs to me.
She rests her slick body on mine, looks into my eyes.
“I have a confession to make,” she says. “I’m not really afraid of the dark.”
I laugh. “Really? Well, since we’re telling the truth, I have plenty of flashlights.”
She kisses me, bites my lower lip softly. “Mmm. Bad girl.”
“I only lied after you said you were separated.”
“I see.”
In the distance a ringing sounds, and Mama Jo barks and trots down the hall toward the bedroom. Sidney looks at me for a moment as if she’s questioning the noise and then her eyes widen and she shoves herself away and runs down the hall. I hear her answer her phone.
I can’t hear what she says, but I know the news isn’t good. Mama Jo jumps on the bed, circles, and lies down.
“She’s leaving,” I say.
Sidney appears in the doorway. “I need to go.”
“I know.” I still can’t help but stare at her.
“One of my girls had a nightmare. She wants to come home.”
I sit up, watch the candlelight dance against her beautiful form. “I understand.”
She comes to me, slowly. She kisses me so soft, so deep, I know she doesn’t want to go.
“Come to dinner tomorrow,” she says. “Please.”
I nod.
She smiles and holds my face. “Thank you,” she says.
“For what?”
“For giving me what no one ever has before.”
“You’re kidding.”
She shakes her head. A tear falls. “I didn’t know it could be so good.”
I wipe her tear. “Oh, honey, it can be really, really good. That was only a taste.”
She laughs and the power kicks on. Mama Jo barks and jumps from the bed.
Sidney pulls away. “See you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” I say, watching her disappear from the room. I slip on my shirt, walk to the door, and lean against the wall as I watch her dress from down the hall. I meet her at the front door.
“I would kiss you again but I don’t think I’d be able to tear myself away from you,” she says.
I pull her close, breathe in her neck and hair. I feel her shudder against me.
“Go,” I say, pulling away, afraid I, too, will lose control. She opens the door and steps into the drizzle. I watch her jog to her home in the weak streetlight. Then I close the door, lock it, and head back into the living room. I grab my laptop and open the door to the back patio. I sit in my lounge chair and stare out at the water, now playing with porch lights. I glance at the wine, but I don’t want it. I want to taste her for as long as I can.
I settle in and think about closing my eyes. But I know it is useless, sleep will not be coming tonight. Instead, I open my laptop and begin doing what I do best…telling a story.
Dog Day of Summer
Kris Bryant
“You know it’s time. I told you about this last night.” Summer carried the buckets of warm water out to the backyard and walked slowly toward Max, the stray she’d found dumped at the Sugar Creek Animal Clinic last week. Nobody else at the clinic could get near him. Summer decided right then and there that she was his person. After tricking him into her car with treats and soft scratches behind his ears, she drove them to her two-bedroom home with a backyard big enough for a medium-sized dog to enjoy. Max paced the house the entire night, settling down on her bed when dawn broke. Her fractured sleep was punctuated by soft whimpers and sharp smells she didn’t think should come from another living thing. “I promise to be gentle about this, but if you are going to sleep in my bed, you have to be clean.” Max’s ears lay flat against his head the closer she got to him. “No, no, no. We have to do this, buddy.” Summer followed Max’s sideways glance and noticed the side gate was open. Before she had a chance to react, her neighbor, the one who zoomed her motorcycle up and down the street at all hours of the day and night, the same neighbor whose grass was in desperate need of trimming, picked that ex
act moment to roar up the driveway, scaring both of them.
“Are you kidding me?” Summer yelled. Max ran for the partially opened gate, blowing through it without slowing down. “This is just great. Max! Max, come back here.” She dropped the washcloth and sponge and ran after him. Unsure of which way he went, she ran down the block one way, turned around, and headed in the opposite direction, passing her neighbor, who stood there at the end of the driveway. Never mind that her neighbor looked fantastic in her tight faded Levi’s and her tight black T-shirt. Or how toned her arms were as they casually held the motorcycle helmet close to her trim waist. Regardless of how attractive her neighbor was, Summer was pissed.
“Excuse me. What just happened here?” The neighbor pushed back the dark curls that fell across her forehead and stood directly in Summer’s path. Summer had no choice but to stop.
“Your obnoxiously loud bike scared my dog, and he ran off,” she said.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you both. Hang on. I’ll help you catch him if you want. I just need to throw my stuff down inside.” Knowing two sets of eyes were better than one, Summer reluctantly gave a curt nod. She tried not to watch her neighbor’s long legs as they climbed the stairs two at a time. Tried. It was hard to not to admire how those jeans clung to her body. They left little to Summer’s sexually frustrated imagination. She turned her head when her neighbor headed back her way. “Look, I really am sorry about your dog. What’s his name?”
“Max. He’s a stray. I’ve been working with him at the clinic for a week and brought him home for the first time last night. He doesn’t know his way around our neighborhood. What happens if I don’t find him? What happens if he gets hit by a car? He must be so scared.” Summer felt strong, warm hands on her bare arms and looked up at her neighbor. The green eyes staring back at her showed concern and compassion, neither of which she’d seen in a very long time.
“We will find him. Whatever it takes. Is that your truck?” Summer nodded. “It might be easier to drive around to find him.” They quickly headed to the compact truck that was parked on the street. Summer slipped into the driver’s seat and her neighbor crammed her long body into the passenger side.
“You can adjust the seat back. I had it forward because Max was sitting there. You’ll probably get dog hair all over your clothes.”
“I’m not worried. I have to do laundry tonight anyway. Is Max chipped? I mean, if somebody finds him, will they know how to get him back to you?”
“He’s not chipped.” Summer could hear the panic in her voice. “But he is wearing a collar with all of my contact information. I’m going to have him chipped once he trusts me.” She rolled down her window and yelled for him. “Max! Come here, boy.” When she looked to the right, she noticed her neighbor texting somebody and not looking out of the window for Max. “Are you seriously not helping me right now?” Those beautiful green eyes flashed angrily at Summer.
“I’m letting my little brother know that I’m with you. He heard the front door open and was worried that somebody else was in the house. He’s laid up with a broken leg and doesn’t get around the greatest.”
Summer turned her head in embarrassment. “I’m sorry. I’m really not usually this rude. Let me start over. Hi, I’m Summer,” she said.
“Call me Hart.”
“Your name is Hart?” Summer asked in surprise.
“Well, it’s what I go by,” she said. At Summer’s questioning look, Hart elaborated. “It’s my last name. I’ve been going by it my whole life. Besides, it beats my first name.”
“Do I dare ask?” Hart glared at her. “Okay. That’s a no.”
“We should head to the park a few blocks over. I bet he went there. Open space, grass, food. I know if I was a dog, that’s where I would go,” Hart said. Summer headed that direction, both women on the lookout for one forty-pound black-and-tan pup on the run.
*
“Yeah, we saw a dog that looked like that run by us about ten minutes or so.” The old man waved his cane behind him, narrowly missing his wife. Summer thanked him and whipped her truck into the parking lot. She grabbed Max’s leash, and she and Hart headed out on foot in the direction the man pointed.
“How did your brother break his leg?” Summer asked. She struggled to keep up with Hart’s long stride. “And how do you walk so fast in those boots? They must weigh ten pounds.” Summer was rewarded with a beautiful sideways smile. She was surprised at the fluttering she felt inside her chest.
“They aren’t that heavy, and I only wear them when I ride.” Hart slowed her step so that Summer could catch up. “My brother got T-boned while driving my car a few weeks ago. The car? Totaled. My brother? Wrecked. That’s why I’m stuck driving my Harley. I’m really sorry I’m so loud. As soon as I get the insurance check, I will get a car. A quiet one.”
“How’s your brother doing?” Summer asked.
“Physically, he’s healing nicely. Emotionally, Jamie is a typical teenager. I can’t tell if it’s teenage angst or teenage hormones. He’s up one minute, down the next. I have a hard time keeping up,” Hart said.
Summer liked the way Hart’s curls fell into her face and how she constantly pushed them back behind her ear. The back was shaved close to her neck, but the front was long. Her skin was smooth, and even though it was sun-kissed, Summer could see the bluish purple smudges under Hart’s green eyes, indicating that sleep was not a friend. She was hit with an overwhelming urge to be kind to her, even take care of her. Hart’s boyish charm was sexy and stirred feelings in Summer that she had suppressed months ago.
“Enough about my family. Tell me about yours. Is it just you and Max, or is there somebody else?”
Summer put her hand against her stomach to settle the fluttering again. Was Hart making chitchat, or was there genuine interest in that question? “My girlfriend and I broke up about six months ago, so it’s just me. Well, and now Max.”
She gasped when she felt Hart’s hand rest on her shoulder. The touch was unexpected and excited her instantly. “Look, Summer. Is that him? Is that Max?” Summer followed Hart’s point and started running in that direction.
“Max! Come here, boy,” she said. Max looked up from his lunch of leftover chicken and brownie crumbs. He eyed Summer warily, and she slowed down so as to not scare him again. “Let’s go home, okay? No bath today. We can skip it.” She motioned Hart to hang back and knelt down, holding out her hand to him. He licked up something Summer hoped was potato salad but wasn’t quite sure. She inched her way forward and kept her voice even and calm. She was only a few feet in front of him when he started wagging his tail slightly. “Yeah, boy. It’s me. How about we go home and eat something better than this?” She inched closer. He moved back a few steps.
“Um, Summer?” Summer waved off Hart, motioning her to be quiet. “No, really. You need to look at me.” Summer turned quickly to her, only to shoot Hart a miffed look. She looked back at Max and gently rubbed her fingers together to get him to pay attention to her. It was at the exact moment when she leaned forward to try to pet Max that a small raccoon jumped out of the trash can, eyes wild, paws up, ready for a fight. Summer let out a scream and fell backward, landing half in discarded barbecue and half in something wet. She scooted as far away from the garbage cans as she could, and stopped when she smacked into Hart’s legs. The raccoon stood up on his hind legs and chattered at them, waving his body back and forth. Max took off like a bullet. The raccoon squeaked out his anger and, after eyeing both women suspiciously, bounced off into some bushes, a half-eaten hot dog clutched in one of his paws.
“Did that just really happen? Isn’t it bad when you see raccoons in the daylight? I mean, aren’t they dangerous?” Summer asked in complete disbelief.
“I tried to tell you.”
Realizing she was still clutching Hart’s leg out of fear, Summer slowly let go and smoothed down the crumpled jeans she had gathered in her fist. Hart reached down to help her up, slowly, liking the feel of Su
mmer against her body.
“And what the hell did I land in?” Summer looked down at the stains on her shorts and tried her best to knock some of the garbage off. “How bad is it?” Hart raised her eyebrows and quickly looked away to hide her smile. “Crap.”
“Well, at least we found him and know what direction he went,” Hart said. She found a relatively clean napkin, handed it to Summer, and set the garbage cans upright while Summer cleaned up.
“Across the park is the elementary school. If we can’t find him in the park, maybe he went there,” Summer said. She tossed the napkin in the trash and headed after Max, leaving a wide berth around the bushes that housed the angry raccoon.
“Should we go back for the truck?” Hart asked.
“Now that we know he’s here, I don’t think we should waste time backtracking. I mean, if you need to go, I understand,” Summer said.
“No. I’m the reason you’re in this mess to begin with, so let’s keep going,” Hart said. “Why is Max so skittish?”
“I work at the Sugar Creek Animal Clinic, and I showed up for work one morning and somebody had him chained up out back to our fence.”
Hart heard the anger in Summer’s voice and automatically touched her forearm for comfort. “There are a lot of assholes in our world for sure. But now he has you.”
“If we find him.” Summer sulked.
“I promise we will. Maybe he just sees this as an adventure. I’m sure he knows you will take good care of him. Last night was your first night together, right?”
“Yes. It took him forever, but he finally settled down early this morning. He’s completely filthy, so I decided if he’s going to be on my bed and on the furniture, he’s going to need a bath,” Summer said.
“Especially after digging through the trash. When we catch him, I’ll even help you give him a bath,” Hart said.
Summer liked the way Hart stressed the word “when.”
“And if he doesn’t like me, I’ll stand guard at the gate so he can’t get out. If he’s nervous and starts running around the yard, you can nail him with the hose.” For the first time that day, Hart saw Summer smile and decided she was going to make her smile again and again because it was a beautiful sight. Summer was the kind of girl that Hart wasn’t normally attracted to. She was at least six inches shorter than Hart with long light brown hair and blue eyes. She was femme and sensitive and probably needed more attention than Hart could give, but that didn’t stop Hart from appreciating her neighbor’s sharp curves and red, full lips.