by Annie Dyer
Anya
I woke with an orgasm imminent. The duvet was thrown back and sun kissed hair fell over my thighs. Gabe had already proven that he knew what he was doing with his cock and his fingers and his mouth, but clearly he hadn’t proven it enough. When I’d made it onto the mattress after he’d made me come with his fingers climbing up the steps, I’d ridden him like he was a donkey while he did things to my nipples that I’d never thought about. He’d let me come like that, then turned me over and told me to hold on, fucking me blind from behind, taking every thought out of my head except his name.
He held me all night. Our naked bodies had been intertwined and when I’d stirred to use the bathroom and a bit of a clean-up, he’d held onto me.
“Gabe.” His name was a whisper, barely audible. His response was to hum. I had no idea how I tasted, probably of him as we hadn’t used a condom and there had been no shower.
He sucked my clit then licked, his hands coming up to my breasts and finding my nipples, pinching them and releasing in time with his licking and sucking. I knew once I had come he’d be in me again, that was his modus operandi, make me come tenderly and then fuck me hard. I liked both. He read my body well and had picked up on what worked for me and what didn’t, knowing when I needed it rougher and when he needed to go slow.
I wrapped my legs around his neck as I came and when I opened my eyes I saw him grinning up at me, his mouth glinting with my juices.
“Your turn?” I managed to get the words out.
“Both our turns. You good with me bare again?”
He lifted up and spread my legs, pushing my knees high up and wide. I had a feeling I’d come again as soon as he entered me. His cock was big and thick and hit all the right spots and he made me feel grounded.
“Yes.”
I guided him into me and then moved my hand, holding onto his shoulders. His entry was smooth and deep and he started to give me the most thorough fucking of my life. It was painful, pinching and stretching and hitting me deep. The noises I made weren’t real to me; I wasn’t used to them. I was no virgin before, but I had boyfriends as opposed to lovers and although I’d had no complaints, this was something different.
He lifted up my hips, giving him deeper access and I heard him groan then mutter my name.
“I wish you knew how tight you felt.” He whispered, watching me as he moved in and out, hard but controlled, making my breasts bounce. My nipples were hard; I saw his eyes move to them and he licked his lips.
I felt utterly owned; totally taken care of.
“This is how I wanted you when we were in the bar last night. Spread open for me while I fucked your pussy.”
I lifted my head to watch his cock enter me, amazed at how it fit and how it felt. “You’re so big.”
His grin was shit-eating. I didn’t care. For the last ten hours I had only thought about him. Our whole world had existed in that barn.
“Maybe I should make you beg for my dick later. See what you’ll do for it.”
He bent down and sucked a nipple. I mewled. He moved back up and slowed, holding my hips still.
“You’re fucking beautiful, Anya.”
I couldn’t look away from his eyes. I felt him inside me, as close as a person could get, but it felt as if he was filling me everywhere.
“Rougher. I want it harder.”
He slowed further. “Why?”
“Because it makes me feel.”
There was a brief nod. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“I know.”
“But you’d let me.”
I didn’t answer. I knew I would. The brief bite of pain reminded me that I was alive and made me forget.
“Anya, I’ll smack your ass and pinch your tits. I’ll fuck your ass if you want, but you’ll take pleasure from it. I won’t hurt you.”
“I trust you.”
He moved my leg up higher, now the deepest anyone had been in me, and drove in slowly. I screamed at the pleasure and felt everything tighten as a wave of orgasm drowned me.
“Fuck.” I heard him curse as he ejaculated, holding my hips still. He froze before pulling me onto his chest, his arms around me, cock still inside. “This isn’t a one-night thing. I don’t want it to be one night.”
I nuzzled into his neck. “I definitely want several repeats. A summer’s worth of them.”
He laughed, although it was more of rumble. “I think we can manage that. I’m sorry I didn’t take you out first.”
“I’m not. I haven’t had sex like that in forever.”
He shifted us onto our sides so we could see each other. He was a cuddler, which I’d never thought I’d like, but I did. He also had a body I’d be quite happy to just stare at, but right now I got to put my hands on it. Especially the biceps.
“So I’m the best you’ve had?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“But I am, aren’t I?”
I started to giggle, feeling our combined wetness between my legs. “Think a lot of yourself, don’t you?”
His hands covered my skin and he started to tickle, making me laugh and squirm all the more. He kissed my collar bone and then my jaw.
“I’m happy to prove it to you all summer long. And I bet it gets better.” He held me to him. “But I’m not going to hurt you.”
I felt heat in my face at how I’d been. “I didn’t…”
“Anya, I get it. Be as wild as you want with me, but I have my hard limits. Maybe later, or tomorrow, we’ll talk more about what you like and what I like. But not now.”
“You need recovery time?”
He rolled onto his back his arm under my back. “Damn right. And to just fucking hold you.”
“Cuddler?”
He laughed and I resumed position curled up on his chest. It was still raining outside. I could hear the drops pound against the window nearby.
“Not usually.”
“Just for me then?” Not a question I’d usually ask someone after just one night together. This felt different. Part of me didn’t feel so empty any more.
“Right now, yes. Tell me something about you. Something nobody knows.” His hand slid up my back into my hair, slowly massaging my scalp.
I wondered what there was to tell him. My life had been exactly as Kim had put it: routine, plain. Full of dedication to my job, which was no bad thing, but I’d become scared of excitement.
“I’m pretty much an open book…”
He raised his eyebrows. “Not an answer. One thing. Something you’ve done or not done; something you hate or a book you read.”
“You have to answer the same question.”
“Sure.”
“Okay.” I thought. I didn’t want to sound boring. “I like not wearing underwear when I have a skirt or a dress on. Not at work, obviously.”
Gabe groaned. “You’re trying to kill me!”
I shook my head. It was true, although I’d never really thought much about it being a turn on as I’d not meant it that way. I just didn’t always like underwear, needing a bit of fresh air sometimes.
“Seriously, Anya. When I see you in a skirt now I’m going to have to cuff myself to stop from fingering you.”
And like that, my body made like a noodle.
“You’re all about the dirty words.”
I nodded, hoping he’d take the hint and trying not to think about where this insatiable beast had come from.
He cupped my sex, the heat of his hand making me squirm to find pressure.
“I’m not usually like this. I hadn’t had sex for, Jesus, about eleven months before last night.” I tried to give an excuse but his face crinkled into a smile.
“Shush. I like knowing I can make you needy. It’s revenge for when you wear a skirt. Can I insist you always wear a skirt?”
His thumb was gentle against my clit, the lubrication already there. I came softly, clinging to him, the orgasm a gentle wave rather than the tsunamis from before.
“If you pro
mise to…” I stopped, the words not there.
“Tell me.”
I groaned.
“Say it, Anya!” He moved onto his back and pulled me on top of him.
“Fuck me when I do.”
He laughed. “I think I can promise that.” His kiss was sweet and tender, my breasts pressed against his chest.
“Now tell me something.”
“I haven’t been in a car since the crash.”
We eventually got out of bed at noon and headed over to the house he’d bought. I hadn’t been inside it for years, not since we’d just moved to the island. It was just as it had been then, except it was in a state of disrepair and the décor even more outdated than it had been.
There were pictures and curtains left behind by the previous owner, a couple of plants now more than dead and carpet that looked as if it had been the main meal source for some sort of animal.
“You have your work cut out.”
He wrapped an arm around my waist. I was only wearing one of his T-shirts, long enough to hit me mid-thigh. It smelled of him and had a few flecks of paint on it.
“It’s a project.”
“One you might want to think about starting.”
He gave a nod. “I am thinking about it. I can see what the house can become. The view over the sea needs to be the main focus.”
“And bi-fold doors out to the garden.”
“Them. What shall I feed you?”
“You cook?”
“Kind of.”
He made scrambled eggs with smoked salmon, stored in a fridge that looked futuristic compared with everything else. We sat at a Formica table and talked about everything and nothing; the island, my sister, Catrin and Anders.
“He seems to really like her.” I’d watched them last night, seeing how attentive he was without smothering her and how she responded to him. She’d been involved with him for almost as long as she’d been with anyone and I did wonder how serious she felt.
“He has his work cut out for him if he’s expecting any more than a summer fling. I’ve never known her commit.” I sipped at the hot tea Gabe had made, strong and unsweetened. Better than coffee.
“He’s a really good guy. Anders was one of the first people I met when I turned up here with my backpack. Although he did think I was a squatter at first.”
We hadn’t talked about him not having been in a car for more than two years. After his confession, we’d simply touched and kissed, like innocent teenagers who just happened to be naked and left the rest unsaid for now.
I understood. Prying and trying to get more from him wasn’t necessary. I got it. When he wanted to talk more about what happened, I could listen, but I wasn’t going to push. There would be enough people doing that already.
“What did he do?”
“Asked if I was okay and if I needed anything to eat. I mean…” He looked down to his chest that was more than well-defined and tatted. I’d licked them last night and asked him the reason behind every one.
“You don’t look underfed.”
“No, but I was a bit on the scruffy side. I’d been traveling for days and walked here from Bangor.”
“No bus?”
“Not then. The train was okay.”
“So what did Anders say?”
Gabe smiled at me, understanding that I was moving us off the subject of how he got around. “We went for a beer and talked football.”
After we’d eaten I explored the house, listening to Gabe talk technical about the rooms and beams and walls. His ideas weren’t concrete, but as he talked it through I could see that he was becoming more focused.
“You have the best house here. The views from both sides are amazing. You could really spec it out and make a fortune selling it to a family.”
He was quiet, the silence not even broken by the usual chorus of seagulls.
“This is where I want to be. As much as I can think about a future right now, this is all I see. The island is self-sufficient; I don’t have to leave. And I’m not here for the money. I don’t have to worry about money.”
“Compensation?”
He nodded. “But I’d rather be skint and have him alive still.”
Ryan. He’d mentioned his name once. And I hadn’t repeated it.
There was so much that we’d left unsaid. But we had the summer.
Just the summer.
I headed back to the guesthouse after lunch when I knew most of the tourists would be away from the paths and snickets I needed to take to get home. The walk of shame wasn’t a route I usually took, but if anyone had seen me wearing last night’s dress, fairly messy hair and sniffed me closely enough, they’d have known exactly what I’d been up to.
I was trying not to have any regrets.
Gulls swooped and dropped overhead, calling incessantly. I’d left Gabe about to start painting, his expression telling me he was already planning what he was going to be doing. He was at ease, moving around his barn like a big cat, a very satisfied, very big cat. I felt confused.
I’d never had a one-night stand. It hadn’t been in my nature to, because I’d always needed more of a connection to be able to share intimacy with someone. Gabe wasn’t just a one-night stand, I knew that too. But I was confused. I’d been reckless, focused solely on something that was just for me for the first time in more than just months. Work, school, what I should be doing, how I should be mourning, hadn’t crossed my mind.
It had just been Gabe.
And just what he’d done to my body. It had been how he’d managed to capture my mind as well.
I snuck into my room in the annex without being spotted and jumped straight in the shower, chucking the dress and Gabe’s T-shirt to one side. I’d managed to wash my face at some point when I’d cleaned up during the night, so I didn’t look like an extra out of a Halloween film, but I was definitely not fresh. My body had been well used; between my legs was nicely sore and I had a few bite marks, luckily in places that were easily covered and wouldn’t cause too many raised eyebrows.
The shower was long and hot. Self-analysing was something I’d become too familiar with, especially over the last few months and I tried not to think about what we’d done, beyond how good he’d made me feel. I had nothing to apologise for. I needed to stop finding reasons to blame myself.
When I came out of the bathroom, Nan was sitting on the sofa, reading the paper. She peered up at me and raised a single eyebrow, her tell that she knew exactly what I’d been up to.
“How’s Gabe?”
Jesus. The woman had some form of witchy sixth sense.
“He’s very, very good.” If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.
“I thought he might be. He reminds me of your grandfather with the way he moves, or glides. I’ve never seen him looking awkward. So you had a good night?”
How much information should I try to scar her with?
“Yeah. Very good. And a good morning.”
She nodded, looking back down at the paper that looked old, as in yellowing and fragile old.
“How did you know where I was?”
“Michael mentioned that you were talking to him at the bar. He popped in on his way home to pick up something that a client had dropped off. And I saw you with Gabe the other day when you were upset.”
That bothered me. I didn’t want my family to worry any more about me than they already had.
“I’m okay.”
“No, you’re not, so stop trying to pretend that you are. Because you shouldn’t be okay. You have every right to not be okay. These things take time.” She folded the paper and put it down next to her.
If she had said those words to me a week ago, I’d have fallen apart. Now I felt stronger, as if the feelings I had were no longer owning me. Acceptance was something my therapist had talked with me about and I think I finally knew what she’d meant. I couldn’t change what had happened, or change how I felt about it at the time. I could only accept it and work with what was left a
nd where it had left me.
“I know. I’m beginning to realise that.”
“You also understand the concept of pause. Sit back and take a longer ride?”
I shook my head.
“It was one of your grandfather’s favourite sayings. Sit back and take a longer ride. What he meant was wait. Do nothing, if you don’t know exactly what to do. Wait until you have more information, then make a choice.”
I perched on the arm of the sofa. “That makes sense.”
She nodded. “You always need to have the answers, Anya. You can just say I don’t know. I get that Kim has put pressure on you to move home too?”
“Kind of. That sounds harsh though. She wants me to come back and I know it’s not just so I can babysit or help out.”
“She wants her sister nearby. And she doesn’t understand why anyone would live somewhere else. But I do. You know, where you live is your choice. You’re not Aunt Marcy, pinned to the guesthouse for life.”
I looked at the newspaper and saw the headline, Missing Woman Found on Beach. There was a photograph and before I even saw the name, I knew who it was. Julia Stretton, Don’s wife. The couple my aunt had been captivated with. I read the article quickly. It was short and to the point, without the elaboration we were used to now.
LOCAL WOMAN IN DROWNING DEATH
Julia Stretton, wife of Donald Stretton, Junior, was killed yesterday in a boating accident off the coast of Moelfre. Julia (23) fell off the side of new boat, The Lady Haven, a gift given by her father-in-law, Henry Stretton as a token of thanks for how his boating industry was ran in the port.
The deceased was enjoying a day at sea with four others, including her husband when the incident occurred. She allegedly fell overboard after feeling nauseous and leaning over the side of the vessel. The sea, which was rougher than expected, caused her to become unsteady and lose balance, unfortunately falling into the water.
Witnesses on board say that they heard a loud bang and a scream before rushing outside. They were able to recover Mrs Stretton’s body from the water, but she had already died before lifesaving procedures could be administered.
Her husband of four years is said to be heartbroken. The couple were known as being devoted to one another, and rarely apart. Police have interviewed those involved and have concluded that the death was a tragic accident, although there has been some concern as to whether someone else was present when Mrs Stretton fell overboard.