by Amy Star
Eventually, she pulled her cellphone out of her pocket and dialed her sister’s number. Annie answered after two rings with a chirpy, “What’s up?”
“I’m pretty sure Atticus and I are going to fuck tonight,” Casey explained, blunt to the point that a sledgehammer looked like a knife in comparison.
On the other end of the line, Annie sputtered incoherently for a moment, spraying something—probably tea—all over the phone and whatever else was around her. Casey felt bad for her desk for a moment. But only for a moment.
“Seriously?”
“Seriously,” she returned placidly. “Or at least, it sounded like that’s what we were talking about this morning.”
There was a pause, and then Annie asked slyly, “Do I need to give you the talk or something?”
Casey rolled her eyes, regardless of the fact that she was alone in the room. “I think I know the basics,” she returned flatly.
“Should I do the whole ‘be sure to use a condom’ shtick?” Annie wondered innocently.
“What for?” Casey asked, her exasperation plain. “I’m clean. I’m willing to bet he’s clean. And either I’m already pregnant or I’m supposed to be pregnant, in which case a condom would be pretty detrimental to the cause.”
“Fair point,” Annie conceded. “Are you going to give him a show?”
“I hadn’t planned on it,” Casey returned simply. “I don’t know how to put on a show. I’d probably mess it up and, like… fall out a window or something. I don’t know. I’m pretty sure I would find a way to make that happen.” She didn’t know how she would make that happen, but it seemed like the most likely outcome to trying to get too adventurous on the first night. She would save the show-stopping stunts for later, after a bit of research and a bit more familiarity between her and Atticus.
“You worry me occasionally,” Annie returned blandly. She didn’t sound particularly surprised by the words coming out of Casey’s mouth, though. Whether that was a good thing or just slightly insulting was still up in the air.
“Only occasionally?” Casey asked, her tone hopeful and overly earnest to the point of being comical. “I used to worry you all the time! I’ll take it as a good sign.”
She couldn’t see Annie’s face, of course, but her sigh sounded very much like she was rolling her eyes. “I need to get back to work. You’re too ridiculous to talk to.”
“Uuuuugh,” Casey groaned. “I’m going to go crazy waiting for tonight!”
“Then go find something to do!” Annie laughed. “You’re willingly a shut-in. No one is stopping you from doing anything. You don’t even need to spend money if you’re that set against it.”
Casey blinked up at the light. “I guess so,” she returned slowly. “I’ll let you get back to work.”
“Give me the details later!” Annie insisted.
Casey just managed to shout, “Pervert!” down the line before her sister hung up.
She supposed Annie had a point. No one had told her she had to just laze around the house. She wasn’t being held at gunpoint and told to be the most stereotypical fifties housewife or anything like that (which was good, in hindsight, since the cooking and cleaning crew would have robbed her of any stereotypical housewife duties, and she hated cleaning to begin with). Sure, Annie and Jason were both working, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t find anything to do.
She peeled herself off of the floor and changed into some shorts and a t-shirt that she didn’t care particularly much about in case they got dirty, and she rooted through her closet, dipping into some boxes that still hadn’t been unpacked until she pulled out her old elbow pads, knee pads, and helmet. They were practical and all black, though while the pads were matte, the helmet had a blueish shimmer to it in just the right light. There was nothing special about them, but they had been helpful back when she had just been learning how to skate for work.
She supposed if she was going to make an actual hobby out of it, she should get back into the habit of wearing them. Besides, there was nothing particularly special about her rollerblades either, so she supposed they were all well-matched for each other.
She braided her hair and pinned it up, low on the back of her head so it wouldn’t be uncomfortably smashed beneath her helmet. She plopped the helmet onto her head and buckled it, strapped on the knee and elbow pads, and grabbed her skates. She jogged up the driveway at a steady pace until she got to the road, where she put her skates on. With that done, she got busy.
She kept it simple at first, just skating in various shapes and squiggly lines until she could feel herself working up a sweat, and she picked up the pace, trying harder stunts, picking up her speed. There was a hill a block or so down the road, and while it wasn’t particularly long, it was steep, and she knew she could get some decent speed going down it.
She made a beeline for it, keeping her eyes open for cars, though it was rare that the road they lived on got traffic.
She made it to the hill without any incident, peered down it to get an idea of what she was in for, and then backed up again. She started skating at the hill with as much momentum as she could work up, her legs pounding furiously and her arms pumping at her sides.
Time seemed to slow down for a split second when she reached the crest of the hill, just before she plunged downwards. Strands of her hair were whipped free of her bun, and they fluttered around her face, the dangling, excess length of her helmet strap clacking loudly against the plastic of her helmet as it blew backwards.
She crouched carefully and brought her arms in close, and she let out a whoop of delighted laughter as she picked up more speed, cruising down the road like she was never going to stop. Even once she made it down to the bottom of the hill, she kept going, momentum carrying her along the straightaway until she reached the next hill, and only the incline started to slow her properly.
Halfway up the hill, she straightened up and came to a halt, stepping onto the grass beside the road. Adrenaline pumped through her, pasting a manic smile onto her face. She doubled over, her hands on her knees as she just breathed for a moment and appreciated where she fit in the world.
Finally, she turned back towards the house and headed back in the direction she came from. By the time she made it back to the top of the bigger hill, sweat was pouring down her face and neck, and she was panting like a dog that had been forced to run a marathon, but she didn’t give into the temptation to stop for a break; she kept plowing onwards.
It was as she was nearing the driveway again that things started to seem a bit unusual. Above her, a flock of birds took flight, and a pair of squirrels scampered up a tree trunk and along a pair of branches. A branch snapped, and when she looked in that direction, she saw something gleaming, bright and shiny. It looked small, and it sparkled slightly, but she couldn’t make out what it was; it was gone an instant later. Regardless, it was pretty obvious that it was not simply a part of nature; nature didn’t shine like jewelry, or at least it didn’t in the middle of the woods.
Shading her eyes with one hand against her forehead, she squinted into the woods, but she couldn’t spot anything. She shook herself slightly, mumbling to herself about adrenaline messing with her head as she started to make her careful way back down the driveway. It wasn’t the first time she had gotten overly excited and sworn she was seeing things that weren’t there.
But still, her lot in life at that point meant she was less skeptical than she would have previously been inclined to be, and the woods seemed a bit too quiet as she made her way back to the house. Sure, it was probably nothing, but she would mention it to Atticus all the same. Either it was nothing, and thus nothing would happen, or it was something and she was alerting him to bad news.
It seemed like a win/win situation if anyone felt inclined to ask her.
C HAPTER EIGHT
Casey left her skates by the door and pulled her phone out of her pocket, bringing up Atticus’s number and texting him.
‘Could’ve sworn I hear
d someone in the woods while I was outside. didn’t really see much of anything, but it was super weird. just glad I was fully dressed this time.’
It took almost ten minutes before she got a reply. ‘I’ll have Branson and Lydia check out the property once they’re done here.’
‘lazy. why don’t you ever check your own property?’ Casey meant it in good fun, of course.
The reply came quicker that time. “Lydia can fly, and Branson has a better sense of smell. I’m just very large, so I’m less helpful for this sort of thing.”
“Dumb muscle without the dumb part. got it.”
She expected that to be the end of the conversation after that, but a few moments later, her phone beeped again to let her know she had another text.
“Occasionally with the dumb part.”
Casey clapped a hand over her mouth to mask a snort despite the fact that there was no one there to hear her.
Well, she had given him props for his self-awareness in the past. She supposed there was no reason for it to just evaporate.
She shoved her phone back into her pocket and left all of her rollerblading gear in a pile to deal with later, letting it slip from her mind as she wandered into the kitchen to make herself a sandwich. More time had passed than she expected, and it had been hours since she’d last eaten.
She constructed the meal quickly and ate it even quicker before she moseyed back into the library. She browsed books absentmindedly for a few minutes, occasionally plucking one from a shelf and leaving them in a pile for her to sort through in greater detail later. Eventually, she realized that if she wanted to get busy with Atticus once he was home, it would probably be more enjoyable for all parties if she didn’t smell like a skate park. With some reluctance, she dragged herself back up the stairs and into her suite to take a shower, changing into some clothes that she could easily lounge around the house in.
*
When Atticus got back, Casey was waiting for him on the stairs, sitting on one step with her feet on another. She was leaning forward so her elbows were perched on her knees and her chin was propped up in both hands.
Atticus paused in the doorway when he saw her for a moment before he stepped the rest of the way inside and let the door close behind him. “Hi,” he offered slowly, seeming slightly bemused.
“I have been waiting for you to get back all day,” Casey informed him plainly, sitting up and leaning her elbows on a step behind her. Atticus looked her over as the new position made her back arch. “We have some unfinished business from this morning, if you care to recall.”
“Not even going to let me in the front door first?” he wondered dryly, already shrugging out of his jacket.
“Nope,” Casey answered pleasantly. “You. Me. Upstairs. Let’s get going.”
He glanced past her, towards the kitchen, and for a moment, she worried that she was pushing too hard. That he was going to just walk right past her, as if she weren’t even there. And then, he carefully took off his shoes and closed the space between them, picked her up as if she weighed absolutely nothing, and began to carry her up the stairs. Casey squealed in startled surprise, her arms wrapping around the back of his neck. As an afterthought, she crossed one ankle coyly over the other and shifted herself in his hold so she could properly look up at him.
“Just as eager as I am, then?” she wondered playfully. “Good. I would hate for us to be on uneven footing.”
The trip to Atticus’s room was quick, and Casey laughed as he dropped her onto his bed with a bounce. As he started unbuttoning his shirt, Casey started pulling her t-shirt over her head and followed it by unbuttoning and unzipping her shorts and kicking them off the end of the bed. She slid the straps of her bra off of her arms and finally sat up enough to reach back and unclasp it, and the bra, too, was tossed to the floor.
By the time Atticus was shrugging out of his shirt and unbuttoning his pants, Casey was already shimmying her panties down her hips until they were far enough down her legs to simply kick them off. She offered Atticus a small, impish grin and a beatific, “Take your time.”
He rolled his eyes and tossed his pants at her once he stepped out of them. Casey caught them by one pant leg and flung them aside to land in a heap on the floor along with everything else.
Atticus let his boxers drop to the floor, and once both of them were naked, they took a moment to just look each other over, appreciating what was in front of them. Casey felt a bit inadequate as she took in the sight of Atticus’s abs and his arms and his shoulders, but he was giving her a look like he was getting ready to eat her alive, so she was willing to content herself with the knowledge that she had absolutely nothing to worry about.
Atticus leaned a knee on the edge of the mattress on one side of Casey’s legs. As she lay back, he set his hands on the bed on either side of her, his other leg joining the first as he crawled onto the mattress, braced on either side of her. She grinned up at him and reached up with one hand, fingers curling around the back of his neck and tightening in his hair. She pulled him down until their lips met, and as the kiss deepened, he bore more of his weight down on her, until she could feel his cock against her hip.
She hummed thoughtfully into the kiss and reached down with her free hand, fingers curling around his cock. Loosely at first, just to listen to the way his breath stuttered for a fraction of a second, before she tightened her grip and began to stroke it.
For a few minutes, they moved together, her hand on his cock, his lips against hers, his hands sliding along her sides and kneading her breasts. She sighed into the kiss every time he pinched one of her nipples, and his cock steadily hardened and grew in her grasp until his hips were rolling and he was pulling himself away from her.
He shifted slightly until he was kneeling between her knees, his cock red and erect and dripping just a bit. He reached for her, his hands curling around the backs of her thighs, and Casey couldn’t quite keep in a squeal of surprise as he gave her a tug, and she slid down the mattress until her back end was settled on his lap. She squirmed to get comfortable for a moment until he settled a hand over her sex, twirling a thumb around her clit and pressing a fingertip to her entrance before letting it delve into her damp heat.
He thrust his finger into her only a few times before he pulled it out, curling his hand around his cock instead, holding it steady as he guided it to her entrance.
The head of his cock pushed through the velvet soft folds of her sex, bumped against her entrance, and then he was inside her. They sighed softly, simultaneously, and he kept pushing inwards slowly, inch by inch.
Casey waited until he was fully sheathed within her before she reached up, both hands curling around his shoulders. Atticus’s hands pressed against the small of her back, lifting her as she pulled herself upwards until she was upright, sitting in his lap, his cock still fully sheathed inside her.
Neither of them moved for a moment, and then his grip around her middle tightened, and he lifted her, slowly at first until she used her hands on his shoulders to push herself up, encouraging him to go faster. Before long, she was bouncing on his lap, steadily faster and faster. Her arms tightened around his shoulders, and he began lifting her faster, each lift followed by a sharp, downward slam as he lowered her to his lap once again.
Everything felt more and larger and brighter, as if a current was being run through every single one of Casey’s nerves. As the sensation built, it became rapidly apparent that their current position demanded a bit more grace and balance than she was in a position to utilize just then.
Casey fell back with a gasping moan, and Atticus followed her, his grip on her hips making sure his cock stayed in her. He rose up on his knees and hoisted her hips off of the bed, most of her weight instead bearing down on her shoulders as he kept pounding into her. The room was quiet, save for their heaving breaths and the damp sound of skin slapping against skin.
Her voice was getting louder as heat built in her belly, coiling like a spring that was getting tight
er and tighter, until it released. Her entire body went tense, her thighs squeezing around him, her hands fisting in the sheets, and her head tossing to the side as her back arched off of the bed until she was bent into a perfect bow. She came with a long, low moan that was more of a gasp.
Atticus’s rhythm slowed as Casey gradually went limp, though he kept thrusting. It wasn’t long, though, before his rhythm began to stutter, until at last he managed four more erratic thrusts before he came.
For a few moments, there was stillness, save for the heaving of their chests as they caught their breath. For a few moments, there was peace, save for the way they panted into the silence. And then, slowly, Atticus pulled away, his cock slipping free of her, and Casey could feel their combined fluids beginning to drip to the mattress. She shuddered slightly, but in the best way.
The mattress bounced slightly as Atticus flopped down beside her on his belly, folding his arms on the bed to lean his chin on his forearms, head tipped to the side so he could look at her.