by Mia Madison
He rushed out of the room and bounded the steps to meet his daughter.
"Is Devon with you?" I heard her ask with pure innocence.
"Why aren't you asleep?" He avoided her question with one of his own.
"I thought I heard you playing," she explained, clearly vexed at being questioned, "are you playing Candyland without me?"
"No sweetie," he laughed, "I would never play Candyland without you."
I heard the two of them head down the hallway to her room and took the opportunity to sneak back to mine. With a backward glance, I noticed that the storm was over - had been for some time. It had left behind a slate clean, and I was looking forward to a fresh start.
Chapter 10
I plodded up the stairs of the Victorian house, or Vicky as Elizabeth had taken to calling it, and I tried to let go of all my recent disappointments. My life seemed to be filled with nothing but highs - like the erotically themed thunderstorm, and then lows - like how I spent the rest of the night alone.
I needed to get my mind off the drama and onto something productive. It had been too long since I had spent any time at the house and was itching to get things moving again.
As soon as I opened the door, I knew something was wrong.
"What the fuck is this?" I yelled much louder than I should have as I struggled to gain entry. I was able to push hard enough to see that a pile of dirty tarps was caught under the door. After negotiating that problem I saw a much bigger problem.
Stuff.
Lots of Stuff.
Boxes of tile, piles of lumber, kitchen appliances and cheap laminate countertops - the wrong countertops - filled almost every empty spot on the floor.
"FUCK THIS!" My anger was unleashed and all my frustrations came tumbling out. I was still angry that I waited all night for Michael to show up and angrier that I never confronted him about it. By the time I got up, he and Elizabeth were already gone to work and daycare and I was left alone and dejected - again.
Since then all our conversations were through voicemail and text message because every moment was spent either swamped with work or ferrying Elizabeth to more activities than I even knew existed. The only break was when she went on a three-day camping trip with her wilderness kids group - and of course, Michael went too.
I wasn't angry that he went - or even that they went without me. She was his daughter and he should put her first. That's the way it was supposed to be. Angry wasn't the right word - frustrated was… but sexually frustrated was the most accurate description.
I walked around the piles and as I got closer to the kitchen, I could hear the steady drip, drip, drip of the leaky pipe in the kitchen.
"One thing," I hissed, "I specifically asked him for one thing."
I went to the faucet and flipped the handle a bit more harshly than I should have. I heard a slight gurgling right before everything seemed to explode and water started spraying from every direction.
It was the wettest I had been all week.
I sputtered and adjusted the handle, but it just seemed to get worse. I finally gave up and dove under the sink to find the valve that turned off the water supply.
"What the hell!"
I heard Michael swearing in the parlor while I struggled to turn the rusted valve. Water still sprayed from the faucet and I could feel the droplets cover my back and slide down my legs.
Great - this is just how I wanted him to see me - down on all fours with my damp clothes clinging to my body, my blonde hair pulled back in a tangled heap, and my ass waving in the air.
"What the fuck happened here!" His deep authoritative voice rumbled out and I felt the vibration run through my body.
Too late. I gave up on the valve and folded myself out from under the sink in an effort to regain my dignity. As I turned around, I saw him glaring at me. Every muscle in his body was visibly taut, and if I wasn't so angry I would have been impressed.
Without uttering a word, I pointed at the sink and then at the valve and then straight at him. "I asked you," was all I could manage to spit out.
He was immovable, the perfect picture of finely carved marble authority. I may have seen him dip his steely eyes once or twice to scan my breasts, but he otherwise held still while the water sputtered around us.
Michael's jaw twitched a second before he yelled, "well, why didn't you turn off the water?"
"It's stuck!" I almost screamed in frustration and could feel my anger going postal.
The tantrum that followed went something along the lines of, "Let me show you how to do it," to which I vaguely remember responding with, "where have I heard that before," and then he was hoisting himself under the sink.
I can still remember his snarky comment, "how hard could it be?" and my, "not very," when the valve gave a loud squeal. With the water no longer soaking us, Michael jumped up from the floor and turned to me.
In unison, we pointed to the parlor and shouted, "What is all that shit!"
"Why did you get cheap countertops," I complained.
"I didn't get any countertops," he yelled back, "why did you get all that lumber?"
"Why would I get lumber?" I yelled back and watched his face soften as the realization hit.
"Damn it, Andrew!" he yelled at the ceiling.
"Andrew," I questioned, "who is he?"
Michael let out a frustrated sigh, "He's an old friend." I could tell he was weighing his words carefully, "I told him about the house and he wanted to help out."
"So, he just filled the house with… stuff?"
"Well, he called when I was in the woods," he paused and a pained look crossed his face. "The reception was spotty, and I think I may have agreed to this."
So, that explains why he didn't call me when he was away. I looked up at his frustrated growl and all I could do was stare at the rock hard abs peeking out from under his untucked plaid shirt.
He was leaning back, his body bowed in a delicious release with his happy trail in full view of my hungry eyes. I had visions of my fingers wandering down his chiseled body and disappearing beneath the waistband of his low-slung cargo shorts. I swear I think I sighed.
Michael finished his stretch and surveyed the water drenched floor. I felt the heat from his gaze slide up my legs, and I blushed when he paused to examine the spot where my shorts crested between my thighs. A seductive smile crossed his face when he reached my damp blouse, and his eyes quickly darted between the swell of my breasts. I imagine he was enjoying the view of my lacy red bra peeking through the now transparent cotton, and I was torn between using my hands to cover myself, or sticking my chest out further.
I tried to stay calm, but the woman inside of me was clamoring for his attention. After the disastrous week I had just experienced, I was ready to give in to her.
He lifted his eyes to meet mine, and I was transfixed under the weight of his sultry brown eyes. Yes, he was obviously appreciating the view before him.
Michael shoved his hands in his pocket as he continued his visual examination of my body. I melted under his gaze and quickly realized the dampness between my thighs had nothing to do with the wet clothes clinging to my body. I licked my lips and tried to drag my thoughts away from ripping off his clothes and riding him into next week.
Michael looked me up and down and I hoped that any minute he would take pity on me and fix the water leak - or ravage me against the laminate countertops. Heat poured through my veins and I wondered what was wrong with me. Who cared about the water?
I was so focused on his eyes as they moved down lower to focus on the cleft between my breasts that I almost missed the bulge in his pants.
When he moved toward me I held my breath in anticipation. Could this really be happening? Could my horrible weekend finally be turning around? More importantly, was being ravaged against the laminate countertops back on the table?
Our eyes locked and I was rooted to the spot. I let out a long slow breath as he came to rest before me. The scent of his spicy aftershave invade
d my senses in the most glorious way.
"So," he teased, "do you still want me to fix the water leak?" The corner of his mouth went up in a slight smile and my insides flip-flopped.
"I would be very… grateful," I volleyed back, desperately hoping he wouldn't take me up on it.
"I think I would enjoy your…" he paused and let out a chuckle, "… gratitude." He was clearly now enjoying the situation.
"Well," I squeaked. My heart thudded painfully in my chest at where this was going and hoped that we wouldn't get interrupted again. "That seems like an awful lot of gratitude for one little job," I demurred. I wondered if Michael would falter, but a sly grin split his face instead.
His palm came to rest against my back and his warmth radiated through my damp blouse. A wicked grin split his face as he leaned over and whispered into my ear, "so, do we have a deal?"
He buried his head in my neck and his hot breath sent a fire through me. I agreed just seconds before his lips claimed mine.
His mouth was hot and demanding, erasing the memory of everything that came before. My lips parted before he even asked, and he dove in without hesitation. It felt wild and I could tell he shared the wonton desire the bubbled inside of me. The need to be with him blotted out everything else.
My damp clothing molded to my body like a second skin, and his hands slid over them greedily finding their targets. One hand connected with my breast and ran the pad of his thumb over my erect nipple while his other hand inched down to press into my waistband and cup my ass.
Desire shot through me and I shivered in delicious anticipation. Without warning, he broke off his kiss, and I mewed my displeasure.
"Where are my manners," Michael said, his voice thicker than it had been a moment before, "my damsel in distress is shivering in the cold."
I nodded my head knowingly, "I've been told that you should take off wet clothing."
"I've heard the same thing," Adam confirmed. "And apply body heat immediately."
Chapter 11
Michael lifted my hands and carefully placed them on the top button. "Take that off," he ordered silkily and moved back slightly to get a better view. He watched eagerly as I unbuttoned my blouse and exposed the lacy bra he had been admiring earlier.
When the last button was undone, he reached up to help drag the damp, clingy material off my shoulders. A wave of cold air hit my skin and another shiver ran through me. "Remove wet clothing, apply body heat," he whispered as his heated lips followed the clothing off my body.
After tossing the blouse aside, he reached in back for my bra and popped the clasp with a well-practiced snap. My breasts bounced lightly, yearning to be free of their restraints. I saw his fingers twitch as his eyes zeroed in on my breasts - as if he could will the straps to break free.
Instead, he moved his hands over my waist, teased my belly before thrusting them into my shorts. Once his fingers hooked into my matching panties, he pushed down until they pooled around my ankles on the cold wet floor. Goosebumps broke out across my exposed flesh and his hands quickly moved up the sides of my legs. His feverish touch left behind a wake of smoldering fire. Desire rushed through my veins. He paused briefly on my hips and then ran his hands over my ass before sliding them up my back - no doubt to warm me as promised.
My eyes never left Michael as he undressed me and his desire was evident by his tented pants and ragged breathing. With the rest of my clothing strewn over the floor, he reached out to run his finger down between my breasts. Hooking his finger on the front of my bra, he swiped it off and tossed it away in one fluid motion.
As I stood naked in the middle of the kitchen, my body tingled with delight, Michael took a good long look and then let out a low-slung whistle. I couldn't help but blush under his gaze and realized this was the first time he had really seen me. The last time we were in darkness except for the bolts of lightning.
I was wondering what to do next when Michael wrapped his arms around my back and pulled me flush against his body. I could feel the hardness of his cock pressing through his clothing and against my belly.
My pussy clenched with the ideas I had for his hard tool and I melted into the fullness. I felt the rumble in his chest as he stifled a groan.
With one arm holding me close, he wasted no time in sliding his other hand down towards my mound. He ran his fingers through my slick folds before circling my clit lightly.
His fingers felt so good as he caressed me that I barely missed his surprised intake of breath, "I guess I'm not the only one ready for this."
I ground my pelvis against his hand and heard him groan. "No, you're not," I whispered.
Michael didn't need another invitation to explore every inch of my body, and he slid his hand back up to my breast. His calloused fingers teasing the pebbled surface to his will before leaning over to cover it with his mouth. When his teeth lightly grazed the nub and I gasped. A moment later, he pulled the nipple into his mouth and sucked. Hard.
My knees almost buckled under the sensations. If it wasn't for his arm wrapped around me, I would have gladly melted to the floor. Instead, I leaned my head back, giving in to the sensations.
He lifted his head to capture my lips once more. His tongue thrust against mine and his fingers danced back down to tease my clit. The rhythm was perfect and I began to soar. When two fingers slid into my heated center, a deep moan escaped my lips and I bucked against his hand.
Michael pulled away and I reached out to draw him back - not ready for this to end. When he pressed his lips into the palm of my hand and murmured, "I don't want to rush this," the words sent a jolt straight through my sex.
H pulled me close and I melted into his rock hard body. His fingers played lightly along my spine before rearing back and smacking my ass. He smiled as the swift crack bouncing off the empty walls around us.
"Hey Devon," he addressed me casually, "I think it's high time we broke in this house, don't you?"
Without waiting for an answer, Michael reached for my hand and began pulling me through the house.
My now untethered breasts bounced lightly with every step and reminded me that my clothing was littered on the floor behind us. I thought about going back for them but dismissed the thought as Michael pulled me forward.
Turning toward me, he ran his hands down my back and over my ass. Clamping his hands firmly under my bottom, he lifted me off the cold floor. "I wouldn't want you to step on any rusty nails," he whispered gallantly.
I quickly draped my arms over his shoulders and wrapped my legs around his waist, "my hero," I gushed, pulling close to his body.
Even covered by his pants, his thick shaft pressed into my folds. His mouth descended on mine, and I swallowed the groan that ripped from his throat when he squeezed my flesh and thrust against me.
With each step, the friction of his clothing sent sparks between my legs and teased me with the promise of what was to come. My imagination was running wild when another quick slap on my ass alerted me to our destination. He released his grip on me, and I slid down his length until my feet touched the cold floor.
Bereft of his warmth, a chill ran up my spine. It didn't seem right that I was still the only one walking around naked, but he didn't seem particularly interested in joining me - yet.
I looked around and noticed we had ended up in the parlor with its collection of unusual artifacts. I looked over at the laminate countertop and stifled a laugh.
"Yeah, I know," he chuckled not knowing about my earlier thoughts, "we're rather limited in safe areas around here."
His hand reared back and swatted my ass again and I jumped. I know I should have been miffed by his manhandling, but it was actually kinda sexy. "I need to protect that ass of yours," he commented and the smile on his face told me he was only half-joking. He reached out to massage the tender flesh before lifting me up again.
"Where are we going now?" I asked, saddling up for another erotic journey.
He answered by immediately placing me on top of t
he washing machine. A wicked grin split his face as jostled me around, testing the height. "Perfect height," he growled before grabbing my ankles and thrusting them in the air until my knees were bent into my chest and my legs were splayed wide. I quickly leaned back with my elbows pressed against the washer to keep from tipping over.
"Ahhh," he muttered softly, turning his head from side to side, admiring the view of my pussy on display, "this was what I was looking for."
My laugh turned into a yelp when his head swooped down to claim his prize. His tongue quickly worked me front to back before swirling around my opening in a way that made my head spin. The edge of the washer dug into my ass as he held my legs high, and I grabbed the surface hoping I wouldn't accidentally slide off.
Between keeping my balance and enjoying Michael's ministrations, every muscle in my body was on edge. My body was shaking and all I wanted to do was focus on Michael as he worked me.
I was already so far gone that it wasn't going to be long. I tried to hold back as his tongue bumped up against my needy clit and thrust gently against the bundle of nerves before swooping down to tease my opening.
There was something amazingly sexy about watching a guy bury his head between your thighs. Even sexier when it was a man you loved. The realization that I loved this man sent me over the edge, and I screamed with my release.
I clung to the washer and as the waves of pleasure began to subside and I knew I wanted more. I felt more alive than I had been all weekend - in fact, I think I felt more alive than I had ever been. Opening my eyes, I took a deep breath and pulled myself together.
Michael kissed my thighs before lifting his head. I could tell he was proud of his accomplishment. As he stood, I realized I was still the only one without clothing. It was time to change that.