A New Life Series - Starter Kit

by Samantha Jacobey

  Who I Am

  Tori only took a few moments to realize she wasn’t going to argue and began closing up the shop. Michael set off to the house and secured it as well, before they headed down the street to the courthouse. Holding hands while they walked at an excited pace, he remembered the day they met Marge and George to purchase the garage. It had been a stressful day but had ended a happy occasion. He hoped today’s venture turned out as well.

  Making their way inside, they found the county clerk’s office and made their request. They each had to sign the forms and provide their identification. Tori seemed nervous as the clerk looked over her tiny emancipation card.

  After a moment, the woman told them they would have to wait, as she would have to get clarification about the situation. Tori looked angry as they made their way over to the seating area to await the decision.

  Sitting next to her, Michael rubbed her shoulder, trying to calm her. “I’m sure its ok. Probably a formality.”

  Cutting her eyes at him, she spewed in a bitter tone, “I bet it isn’t.” Clenching her hands into fists a few times, she tried to calm herself.

  Finally, Michael suggested soothingly, “Explain what’s going on; get it out of your system. Stewing about it isn’t gonna help.”

  “What’s going on is the FBI is fucking with me, and they have been since they found me.” She practically hissed the words, “That Dr. Bennet, who was on my committee, is a lying son of a bitch, and I have no way to prove otherwise.” She looked at Michael, her expression pleading for help.

  Catching a stray hair to smooth for her, he encouraged her, “Go on.”

  Drawing a deep breath and exhaling it slowly, she started at the beginning. “I told you, I don’t know who I am. Everyone who knew is dead because I killed them. Well, more or less, I didn’t kill Henry, but you get what I mean.”

  Michael nodded, giving her a small smile as she rolled on, “So, I lived in South America with the Dragons for about fifteen years that I can remember, and I was almost twenty before we hit the road. I’m positive about this because Henry and all the rest of the Dragons attested to this. It was a known fact.”

  Michael pursed his lips, trying to grasp why her age mattered.

  “I was what you might call a late bloomer. This really pissed Eddie off because he was waiting for me to mature before we left the camp, and I was nearly eighteen before my body even started changing. He figured they couldn’t take me on the road until I at least looked like a woman, or it would cause trouble.” She slumped forward, pushing her elbows into her knees and her face into her hands.

  “He acted like it was my fault or something, because it took so long for it to come. They pushed me so hard when I was young to make me strong and lay the foundation for my training. It was like my body was too busy to get around to it or something,” she lamented.

  She gave a lengthy pause, her mind trapped in the distant past. Michael ran his hand lightly across her back, waiting patiently for her to continue.

  “Anyways,” she finally picked the story up again, “When the Feds formed the group to oversee my case, they had this Dr. Bennet, who kept telling them ‘based on her bone structure, she’s only fifteen,’ and I tried to call bullshit, but no one cared what I had to say. And since I had no proof, I lost,” she finished looking defeated. “That’s why I have to show the card, because I’m not completely free from the Feds.”

  Thinking about this for several minutes, Michael’s mind returned to what Enrique had said about finding them; he had help. “Why do you suppose they did that?” he asked, a little short of breath.

  “I dunno,” her hunched shoulders indicating she didn’t feel like talking any more.

  Leaning forwards next to her, he wanted to be careful not to tip her off he had talked to her former lover. “No, No, No,” he said rapidly, “Seriously. What did they gain by having you declared a minor? There had to be an advantage, or they wouldn’t have gone to the trouble.”

  Tori shook her head for a moment, “You mean besides being able to send me to the halfway house for six months?” She shrugged her shoulders, “They couldn’t have done that without it. That’s how they tacked it onto our agreement.”

  At first, she wasn’t seeing the point, continuing to stare at the floor. Then she looked at him sharply, sitting up straight in slow motion. Snapping her head towards the clerks counter, he could see the wheels spinning.

  “Son of a bitch,” she sputtered, “When we bought the garage, I showed them the card then. They’ve known where we are since we got here, even without getting my Driver’s License. And now that cunt is back there notifying them we want to get married.”

  Michael still leaning forward, elbows to knees, looked back at her over his shoulder. “What should we do?” he asked, deferring to her judgment.

  “What can we do?” she replied with a shrug, her eyes still on the counter. “I think they can keep us from getting married in the least, and could show up any time just to rattle my cage.”

  Michael had a bad feeling they already had, even if he had kept the visit to himself.

  She clenched her jaw, the anger boiling inside her. Why didn’t I see this coming? And Eli, that lying bastard. I fell for it, hook, line and sinker. She knew she’d been played; she had to give him that.

  An uneasy feeling hung in the pit of her stomach. They wanted to control her; she had known that for a while. Whatever they had in mind, she wasn’t going to give in so easily.

  “We wait and see I guess. They haven’t said ‘no’ yet, maybe they’ll allow it,” he tried to stay positive, giving her another smile.

  Reaching up, she ran her fingers over him, her turn to do the rubbing. This should have been a happy day for them. Smiling back at him weakly, she tried to borrow some of his enthusiasm.

  A short time later, the clerk returned and called them to the counter, their paperwork in hand. “Would you like a waiver?” she asked as she stamped the forms.

  “A waiver? A waiver for what?” Michael had to ask.

  “So you can see the judge,” she calmly explained. “The normal waiting period is seventy-two hours from purchase to ceremony. I have been authorized to give you a waiver if you want this to be finalized today.”

  The couple shared a quick glance at one another before they spoke almost in unison, “Yes, we want a waiver.” Michael could not help thinking, authorized by whom? He didn’t dare ask.

  The ceremony in the judge’s chambers didn’t take long, and they were back outside with the clerk. She kept all of their paperwork and said they would get their official license in the mail in a few weeks. “Congratulations!” she called after them as they headed for the exit. Practically running down the steps, they turned for home, not stopping until they were safely inside the house.

  Moving to the front window, Michael peeked outside, as if he were checking to see if they’d been followed. Tori burst into laughter at the sight, putting her arms around his neck. Leaning her forehead against his, they rocked side to side, breathing and enjoying the moment.

  Oh, my God, she had the thought, I know who I am. Feeling breathless, she felt a warm flush covering her body; I am Tori Anderson. The name felt right to her, as if it had always been hers, and she could feel the butterflies dancing in her stomach, so happy she could cry.

  Pushing her mouth forward, she began to kiss him. With slow, gentle movements, her hands caressed his neck and the back of his head, his hair soft between her fingers.

  Parting his lips, Michael deepened the kiss, running his palms up and down her back, lost in his own desire. For a moment, he thought they might stay where they were, but on second thought he began to nudge her towards the back of the house, his excitement growing quickly out of control.

  Making it into her bedroom, Tori remembered the harsh thoughts she had had about Michael and his pushing her to take the oversized bed. Looking at the ring on her finger, she remembered his message to her that lay against her skin, a tear slipping from
her eye.

  Catching it for her, he checked himself, asking in a whispery voice, “What’s the matter?”

  Shaking her head, she smiled broadly as she stroked him a few more times and then released him.

  Taking a step back, she reached up and pulled the shirt over her head. Immediately, he waved her off, taking over the job of removing her clothing. His hands moved slowly, his purpose sure. He then laid her naked form on the bed and removed his own shirt and boots for comfort. He leaned over the top of her, stroking her body with firm fingers, meant to convey his feelings for her.

  Tori wasn’t sure she could take it, breathing erratically, then catching his hands for a moment, “I don’t like to be touched,” she whispered. “It’s almost more than I can bear.”

  Confused for a moment, Michael shook his head. “Just relax,” he whispered. “I’m not gonna hurt you. I’m gonna make you feel real good. I promise.”

  Releasing him, Tori put her hands on her face and pushed her hair back, struggling to control the spasms that were shaking her body.

  No one had ever touched her like that before, as it had always been her job to provide the pleasure, not to accept it. Taking slow deep breaths, she tried to be compliant, her lower lip quivering anxiously.

  Michael worked his way down, kissing the soft line of her belly, taking his time to touch her arms and thighs, as well. When he reached the trimmed mat of hair that covered her folds of flesh, he rubbed his face against the tender area, his hands pushing against the inner part of her thighs to persuade her to shift them out and give him some room.

  He blew gently against her delicate female parts, causing chills to ripple through her entire being. Using his tongue in ways she had never thought possible, he gave her more shudders as he worked, massaging the small bead that hid beneath the flesh. His hands were never still while he performed his magic, his palms sliding easily over every inch of skin he could reach.

  Tori could feel her insides growing tense, a deep ache taking hold and she noticed she had become exceedingly moist inside of her warm hollow. After several minutes, Michael lifted his face, unfastening his jeans with an easy motion and dropping them to the floor. Holding himself above her, he teased her for a moment, his heart feeling like it would burst as he stared down into the eyes of his bride.

  Leaning onto his elbows, he put his face down next to hers before dropping his hips and making his way inside her. She stiffened, not expecting it to hurt when he took her. Sensing her distress, he slowed his movement, pressing down with slow, steady pressure until he had taken her fully. His hands were comforting her; his lips kissing and nuzzling her face as he took things slow, allowing her to catch her breath.

  Lying above her, Michael took his time, wanting her to know how much he treasured her. Kissing her and breathing heavily against her hairline, he made easy and deliberate movements before increasing his speed.

  She began to moan and pant, accepting him more easily. Her own desire growing thicker, she wrapped her legs around him, then raised her feet towards the ceiling.

  Catching her legs behind her knees, he pushed them down, folding her in half as he moved to drive her harder. He could feel himself losing control, unable to suppress the waves of need that were wracking his body.

  He made loud groans, squeezing her skin in his palms, falling forward slightly as the spasms overtook him, and he released inside of her. She wrapped her arms around his head that lay against her, a great joy exploding inside her chest.

  They lay together for several minutes in the awkward position, inhaling deeply and holding one another. Eventually, he allowed her legs to return to the bed and slid over next to her, pulling her onto her side with him. Snuggling into the crook of his arm, she laid her head on the side of his chest and ran the fingers of her left hand through the hairs playfully. Catching them, he surveyed the ring, noticing the perfect fit.

  “How did you know what size to get?” she questioned him quietly as he entwined their fingers loosely.

  “I asked Trish to get it for me. That’s why she had the jewelry party after Christmas, so you could try some on, and she could get the size.” He smiled at their sneakiness.

  Pushing herself up on her elbow, she stared at him. “When exactly did you buy them?” she struggled to sound calm.

  He stroked the hair away from her face, thinking for a moment, then replied coolly, “I ordered them the day I bought your guitar and brought you the roses.”

  Her jaw dropped slightly, “That was months ago, like, before Christmas,” she stammered.

  He smiled, giving her a small nod and using his arm to pull her in tightly. “Yup. I realized I wanted you almost as soon as we got here,” he confessed, thinking Mrs. Anderson to himself.

  Make a Home

  That night, they slept in each other’s arms, like it had always been meant to be. Feeling his deep breaths next to her, she knew he had fallen asleep, and positioned herself so she could see his profile as the moonlight from the window fell across it. A handsome man, he was about thirty-five years old best she could recall. That would be about right; fifteen years younger than Henry, who would have been fifty that year.

  A touch of sadness fluttered inside her heart as she remembered her husband’s brother, the man who brought them together. Henry had sacrificed a great deal to give her a new life. She smiled as she realized she actually lay with the man he had spoken of that night in a diner; the one who would care for her. Kissing Michael’s skin lightly, she knew that together, they would make a home. Resting her head against him, she drifted off to sleep.

  Michael awoke early the next morning, amazed she still lay beside him. It was a rare day she did not rise before him. Her back turned to him, the sheet draped across the lower half of her. He could see the line of her back all the way down to her bare buttocks. Lying on her left side, the dark outline of her Dragon mark on her right shoulder was exposed. She had told him about the tattoo, but he had never seen it.

  Tracing the outline of the small mark with his finger, he leaned close enough to smell the scent of her. His chest pounded with excitement, realizing he was free to touch her. He was so glad he had not taken her before, as this was worth waiting for. She was his, but he didn’t own her. Not the way other men had.

  She was his equal, his partner, his love. He smiled, running his lips across her soft skin. She moved slightly as his breath brushed her warmly. He touched her more firmly, wishing for her to roll over and talk to him in her sweet low voice.

  Spooning up behind her, he ran his hand around her waist and up the line of her front to cup her breast. She wasn’t exceedingly large, but more than a handful. He liked the way she responded when he caressed her, leaning away from her so she could roll onto her back.

  “Good morning,” he greeted her in a low tone.

  Not bothering to speak, she turned further, sliding on top of him, covering his mouth with her own. Now that he had awakened her, she could feel the craving to have him burning inside of her.

  Her turn to do the pleasing, she was good at it, and had every intention of showing it. Her hands moved across his skin, leaving behind a blazing trail of desire. Sliding down, she straddled his legs so she could take him into her mouth, and he swelled up easily as she tantalized him with her tongue and lips. Pushing him down her throat, she worked him in and out, her soft folds leaking onto his legs as her body became enflamed by the taste of his salty ooze.

  She ran her hands up to massage his belly, then down to squeeze his hips, continuing to drive him along for several minutes before sliding him out. Moving up so that she lay over him, she wasted no time taking him inside her, lying over so that her hardened nipples tickled his chest as she moved.

  Running his hands up and down the length of her, he massaged the cheeks of her rear end, squeezing them gently as he followed her movements up and down on top of him. She ran her mouth across his chest, first breathing on his brown nipples, and then allowing her tongue to slide out and wet them a
s it danced lightly across the tops.

  Pushing her up so that she sat on top of him, Michael used his hips to begin taking her more forcefully, and they found a rhythm as their bodies began coming together in a hard pounding motion. He could feel her growing tense, and wondered if he would last until she finished, when she began clutching at his hands that were roughly holding her up and preventing her from stretching out across him.

  She began to make strange yelpish noises, and he held her firmly, the look on her face driving him on. Her jaw dropping and fingers curling, he realized he had made it, freeing him to allow his own fulfillment within her.

  She lay across his chest and body as he deflated slowly, panting loudly. “Oh, my God,” she managed in a hoarse whisper. “I feel so weak, like my palms are made of tingly jelly.”

  Michael smiled as he uncurled her fingers and kissed them lightly. “I love you,” he told her softly.

  Lifting her face, she smiled back, “I know,” her eyes fluttering down to his lips and back up to his eyes, “I love you, too.”

  Her words gave him an incredible rush, confident she had never spoken them to anyone before. She wasn’t that kind of girl, and would never have said them unless certain that she meant them.

  Sliding his arms around her, he held on to her tightly, sobs of joy welling inside of him, as he ran his hands up and into her thick dark curls. A few minutes later, their strength had returned, and they climbed out of bed and into the shower together.

  “You know,” she confessed in a quiet voice, “I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately, especially when I have to listen to you in here alone.”

  He laughed, remembering his own provocative visions of her showers as of late. The warm water cascading over their bodies, he allowed his finger to trace the bite mark on her breast.

  “I’ve been considering putting a tattoo over it. A cover that will last forever,” she explained with a smile.