by Jan Springer
“And if I said only with you?” God, had she said that out loud?
“Then I’d say just with me.”
She nodded, not knowing if she was acknowledging what he said or if she was agreeing to it. Her cheeks grew quite toasty. It had to be from the steam wafting out of the soup, right?
“Exactly what would you do?” She had to be crazy asking him that question, but the curiosity of what he would do to her burned through her.
“Why don’t you look at me when you ask me that question, Teyla?” His voice had dropped to a quiet tone. Quiet, yet oh-so-bold. Gosh, why did he have to be so bold?
“I need to cut up some more bacon and get the table set. And so many other things…”
The squeak of his chair had her tensing and blushing furiously. When his hands slid around her waist like two sizzling brands and his hard body pressed against her backside, that big knot of his arousal pushing against the crack of her ass, Teyla’s breath caught. He ground into her gently, his pressure whipping an excited frenzy through her, making her cream. He nuzzled his face against the juncture of her neck and shoulder, and the raspy feel of his unshaven whiskers brushing against her delicate skin sent delightful shivers racing up and down her back.
“What would you like me to do to you, Teyla? Would you like me to bind your breasts? Tie them up until your flesh is so swollen and plump and I’m sucking your nipples so hard you’ll be coming from those sensations alone?”
Teyla swallowed at the sudden dryness in her mouth. Could a woman come, just like that? With him, probably, she acknowledged.
“Or maybe you’d prefer it if you were lying naked, bent forward over the arm of the living room couch? Your arms bound behind your back. Your legs spread-eagle and tied apart. Your ass and pussy bare and vulnerable while three of us take turns with you. Our cocks thrusting and plunging into your pussy or ass over and over until you’re screaming and begging for release. How’s that sound, baby?”
Teyla cleared her throat and tried really hard to stay focused and not allow his soft voice to lure her into his world of bondage.
“Or would you rather have the three of us surprise you with something dark and naughty?”
He was still grinding his erection against her ass, and now he was kissing her earlobe and sucking on it much in the same manner as he’d done with her nipples earlier in bed. Sucking and drawing on her flesh with confident, erotic pulls that had her pussy pulsing and the area between her thighs soaking wet.
“I think I’d like the surprise,” she whispered, loving the sexy way he made her feel and the scorching way he rubbed up against her.
He tensed ever so slightly, obviously surprised at her sudden submissive agreement.
“I think you’ll be pleasurably surprised,” he replied, nuzzling her neck some more. “Keep going. I’ll just stay here and watch you work on supper.”
Have mercy. With him touching her like this she could barely concentrate as she cut some more pieces of bacon. And he
“Um, could you pass me that frying pan?” she asked hesitantly, not wanting to break the erotic contact by getting out of his arms.
Holding her against him, he pulled the pan from the counter and tugged it over onto one of the burners. She turned on the burner and placed the bacon into the frying pan.
“I’m going to whip up some hash browns and bacon. I’m sorry if that’s not enough, but it’s all I’ve got until the soup is ready.”
“Maybe you got all I need.” He nuzzled his hot, moist mouth against the juncture of her shoulder blade and neck, making curious tingles flare through her. Oh, she liked this feeling. Having a man snuggling against her, having his strong, hard body envelop her, making her feel safe.
“I’m afraid water is all I have to drink for us,” she whispered, trying hard not to get too distracted with his cuddling.
Running some water in the sink, she quickly washed her hands. Reaching for her cutting board nearby, she brought it closer to her so she could cube some potatoes.
“The whiskey I brought into your bedroom will do.”
“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t get drunk.” That was one thing she was adamant about. Another pleasure worker she knew had made the poor choice of allowing her clients to drink. At one point, she’d been servicing several men at the same time, and they’d gotten too drunk. Things got out of hand and the worker had been viciously beaten and raped repeatedly over a span of several days. And now the woman didn’t go near men. Teyla didn’t want something so horrific happening to her.
“I like a little whiskey with my woman, but I promise I won’t get drunk.” He slid his hands off her waist and found the sash on her robe. Untying it, he slid the sash out of the loops. Uneasiness snapped into her. Was he going to strangle her with it?
For one horrible moment, she realized exactly how vulnerable her line of work made her. She entertaining men who could kill her by simply snapping her neck. To her surprise, he brought the sash down in front of her open robe. Looping the belt beneath her bared breasts, he then brought both ends up behind her neck, the sash lifting her breasts, making her very aware of them as he tied the sash behind her neck.
“How does it feel?”
It felt amazing, actually. This new position made her breasts stick out more and made them feel tighter.
“Umm… different,” she confessed.
She couldn’t help but gasp as he cupped her breasts, his hands holding her flesh while his thumbs erotically brushed across the tips of her nipples.
“Umm…I…can’t cook with you doing this,” she admitted. The knife loosened in her palm.
“Don’t worry; you’re cooking up a storm.”
He nuzzled his face between the strands of her hair and kissed the back of her neck. She lost all concentration and dropped the paring knife.
“Just ignore me,” he whispered, his warm breath sending red-hot tingles shooting through her.
“Kind of hard,” she mumbled, but managed to grab the paring knife again and struggled to finish cubing the potatoes.
“Your breasts feel truly amazing,” he breathed as continued to cup them while she stirred the bacon and tried hard not to submit to the molten desires he invoked with his caresses.
“What you’re doing feels amazing,” she acknowledged.
“Good. It’s because I am actually seducing you.”
No shit, Batman.
“You’re succeeding.”
“How so?” He returned to nibble on her other earlobe.
“I want to have sex with you again.” Her cheeks burned at her admission. He must think she was some inexperienced chick at the way she kept blushing around him.
“And I with you. But first we need to eat. I plan on working you again, so you’ll need your strength.”
Oh, my. He certainly did have a way with words. “You better put those potatoes into the pan before the bacon burns.”
Teyla blew out a tense breath, and while his hands caressed her breasts and his calloused thumbs brushed her nipples, she barely managed to get the potatoes into the frying pan.
“I bet you are nice and wet for me, aren’t you?” he asked.
Wet is an understatement, mister. And why didn’t he check? She found herself lying back against him, her body melting into his hardness.
“Was wondering when you’d loosen up.” He chuckled against her ear.
Loosen up? Was he serious? She couldn’t get any tenser.
“Where are the dishes? I’ll set the table.” There was hesitation in the way he unfolded himself from her and she wanted him back, pressing against her. Wanted him wrapping his arms around her, his cock pushing into her ass. His hands cupping her.
She swallowed and cleared her throat and her mind of those intimate thoughts.
“Up there. In the cupboard.”
Gosh, she felt shaky. She bet he could hear it in her voice, too. And, yes, he was right, she thought as he opened the cupboard and dragged out two plates. She was so wet
, and her pussy felt so unbelievably swollen. She didn’t think she’d felt so turned on before, ever.
He grabbed some forks and knives from a drawer, plus a couple of glasses from another nearby cupboard and set the table. A moment later, he disappeared from the kitchen and she knew he’d retreated to the bedroom for the whiskey bottle. She wished she could touch her pussy and bring herself off. She swore she was steaming down there, and her breasts weren’t any better off.
She dared to look down and gasped at the fullness of her breasts. Her nipples were red and throbbed painfully against the material of her robe as she tugged it closed.
“Leave it open. I want to watch them while we eat.”
A funny spasm zipped through her pussy at his words, and she watched him come into the room with the whiskey bottle in his hand. Involuntarily, she let out a little whimper. It was a sexual sound. Aroused and full of heat.
“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll bring you the relief you’re craving. Just remember that good things come to those who wait.”
She didn’t say anything. Heck, couldn’t think of anything to say as she lifted the frying pan, turned off the stove, and prayed she had enough strength in her legs to carry the rest of the way to the table.
“We can eat this. I expect the soup will be done in about an hour,” she said as she dished out the crisp bacon and steaming potatoes. Her mouth watered at the tangy scent of the dish.
“We won’t be having soup tonight,” he replied as he poured them both a healthy shot of whiskey. He trapped her gaze with his, and she saw the dark look promise more pleasure.
Boy. Oh, boy. Oh, boy. She could only hope his two friends were going to make her feel this good when they showed up tomorrow.
The bacon tasted better than she ever thought it would, and so did the potatoes. The saltiness exploded over her taste buds, and she found herself thinking this must be how it felt for her tongue to have an orgasm.
“What’s got you all smiling?” he asked as he quickly shoved forkfuls of food into his mouth. The man was definitely enjoying his meal, and that made her feel really good.
“Tastes good. Thanks for the bacon,” she said.
He smiled around the fork and once again her belly did the awesome fluttery flip.
“Thanks for the sex,” he replied, and his smile got even bigger as he wolfed down another forkful.
Okay, her cheeks were heating up yet again and so was she as his scorching gaze dropped to the area where the robe had been left open as per his request. He licked his lips, and the sight of his tongue had her just about squirming in her chair wanting to squish her aching pussy against her seat in an attempt at some sort of release. God, he seemed like some sort of drug to her. And the exotic way he’d touched her had her wondering if he wanted her hooked on him.
“What are you thinking?” he asked, his gaze now back on her face. His eyes had a nice twinkle to them, and she recognized it as curiosity.
“Well, I am wondering who you are. Where you come from?” she admitted. And why am I reacting so much to you?
He shrugged his shoulders and frowned, giving her the impression he didn’t like her question. Well, tough.
“I am a man who comes from here and there.”
“Hmm, here and there and everywhere, right?”
He winked in answer and helped himself to more bacon and potatoes.
“What kind of work do you do?” she asked.
“Let’s just say I’m a traveling salesman and leave it at that.”
“A seller of bacon, no doubt.”
He grinned. “No doubt.”
“Mystery man.”
“It keeps the ladies curious and interested.”
I’m sure. A fissure of jealousy at the thought of him being with other women reared its ugly head. Suddenly she needed to know this man. Needed to peel away the layers of mystery he hid behind.
“Where were you when it happened?” she asked. By the way his shoulders tensed and the fork full of food halted midway to his mouth, she could tell he knew what she meant. She also realized her mistake. Never ask personal questions of your clients. It helped keep the relationship strictly professional and kept an emotional barrier between them. But she realized she’d never wanted so badly to crash through that wall he’d just erected.
“Let’s say it was a bad day for everyone and leave it at that.”
She nodded jerkily, but questions began to form in her mind. Did he have a wife? Girlfriend? Kids? He had to be around her age. Maybe he had had a family and they all died? Just like hers had died. All turning to ash or dust or whatever one called it when one simply self-combusted.
Remembering how she’d found dust on her parents’ kitchen chairs when she’d gone searching for them made the bacon and potatoes she’d been chewing turn into a flavorless cloth. She struggled to swallow it. Left the rest on her plate. Best not think about family. Best to live in the present. He was right. It was best to leave it.
He continued eating, his watchful gaze on her, but he remained silent. That is until he finished.
“I’ve got something that’ll cheer you up.”
He pulled his saddlebag closer, reached in, and to her surprise and delight, he pulled out a tin of peaches.
“Oh my God. They’re making canned fruit again?” she asked as she took the heavy tin into her hands and read the paper pasted to it. Made in Florida. No way! She’d heard that Florida was a cold place now and all the citrus trees had frozen and died.
“Actually, no, I picked it up a few days ago. It was made before the Catastrophe, but I’m told it’s still good. Shall we find out?”
Teyla nodded and he produced a can opener from his bag. My, the man came well prepared, didn’t he?
He chuckled. “Cost a pretty penny. Hell, I never thought a can of peaches would be worth the same amount of money that a car used to sell for before the catastrophe.”
Alarm bells once again whispered through her head. Where did a man get so much money? Illegally was the only answer she could come up with. But how unlawful was illegal?
Who cared. It wasn’t her business where he got his money. He was her client and that was all that mattered. Right? Right, she firmly told herself. Not her business.
Her mouth watered as he lifted the lid and proceeded to divvy up the healthy-looking peaches. They were sliced just the way she liked them. In quarters. And her taste buds literally exploded when the sweetness of the peaches splashed around in her mouth as she chewed. Definitely still good.
They both made sexy moans as they slowly savored the treat. Teyla was smart enough not to rush it, accepting the flavor, committing it to memory, knowing she may never have another chance at having canned peaches again. At the very least, not for a very long time.
They both tipped their plates and allowed the remaining juices from the peaches to slide into their mouths. She made sure to lick her plate, too, savoring the sweetness. When they were both finished, he gazed at her untouched glass, half-full of whiskey.
“How about shooting down your whiskey, and then we can take a nice walk outside.”
His suggestion of a walk both disappointed and excited her. Having the peaches had chased away the sad memories of the past and brought back the need for more sizzling sex with him. Taking a walk in the dark had been something she hadn’t done in quite some time. The dark spooked her, but taking a walk with Logan sounded very nice.
“As long as I can wear some warm clothes,” she teased.
“The minute we come back, I want those clothes off,” he commanded in a hoarse voice.
“Only if yours come off, too. I’ll drink the whiskey when we come back.”
He nodded. “Okay, get dressed, and hurry, or I just might take you right here again.”
She wanted to tell him that’s what she wanted, but he was already heading to the hook where he’d left his leather jacket. As he zipped it up, he saw her watching him and chuckled for her to get a move on.
Minutes later,
she’d put on a pair of jeans, snug wool socks, a warm pink sweater, and her burgundy cardigan. Giving her long hair a quick brush, she enjoyed the look of appreciation in Logan’s eyes when she joined him at the kitchen door. Stuffing her feet into a pair of her late husband’s warm work boots she followed Logan out the door and into the darkness.
Frosty air snapped against face and hands as she locked the door. She didn’t expect anyone to be around out here, but having all that money in her basement called for some sort of security. Sliding the key into her cardigan pocket, she turned around and realized it wasn’t actually that dark.
The sky literally danced with white and green moving lights. She’d heard the light had something to do with the magnetic layers surrounding the Earth’s atmosphere which had been disturbed since the solar flares. That was another reason the climate had gotten colder since then. A mini Ice Age, they said, was happening on the other side of the Earth. Surviving scientists couldn’t agree if the Ice Age would eventually encompass the entire Earth or if things would stay the same or get warmer someday.
She followed him down the stairs, and they walked along the dirt road that wound through her property. They walked side by side for a long time in the stillness, and she really felt safe having him here. Gone was the feeling that every shadow was a murderer and every sound a pack of wild dogs sneaking up to rip out her throat.
“I want to apologize for my earlier behavior,” his deep voice burst through the quiet night air like a thunderclap shaking her feelings of security.
Earlier behavior? Until now, he’d been quite the gentleman. Had she missed something?
“You asked me where I’d been during the Catastrophe, and I gave you the brush-off.”
“It’s my fault,” she said, trying to reassure him. “It’s none of my business.”
He gave her a weak smile. “If you can talk about it with me, a complete stranger, I should do the same. I owe you that much.”
“You don’t own me any explanation.”
“I had a wife and two daughters,” he said quietly, and she immediately detected the pain in his voice.
“You don’t have to—”