Chailali’s Curse

by Anna Leigh Keaton

  “No. Let me.” She reached into his snug briefs and drew out his long, thick, rock-solid cock. “Oh. Yeah,” she said in anticipation. She ran her hand from base to tip then skimmed her thumb over the silky drop of pre-cum.

  Mike caught her wrist but, instead of pulling her away, he pressed her palm harder against him, wrapping her fingers tight around his width. “We can’t,” he said on a pant, then groaned a sound of pain. “I have no protection. I don’t have any goddamn rubbers.”

  Chapter Seven

  Mike waited for some response from Christy. Part of him didn’t care about the lack of protection. He was dying to get inside her slick heat, to sink deep and find the pleasure he knew her body would bring him. To feel her tight muscles clenching around his cock the way they had around his fingers. But he wouldn’t take a chance with her. He couldn’t get her pregnant, though the thought of her giving him a baby...

  No. God, no. No, don’t go there. Why would he be fantasizing about family and children now? He’d given that dream up while he lay in a hospital bed hooked up to so many machines he thought he’d been assimilated.

  Christy’s hand tightened around his dick, and she leaned into his chest, her skin cool against him. Her breath was warm, though, when she whispered against his lips, “We can work around that.” Her tongue delved once into his mouth, and then she trailed hot, damp kisses over his jaw, down his neck, then over his chest as she scooted off his lap.

  His thigh cramped slightly, but he ignored the pain. Her mouth on him felt too good. Her small, soft palm stroking his dick took him so close to the edge he knew he wasn’t going to last long. Having her touch him was beyond anything he’d imagined. So much better than his own hand.

  She spread his thighs a bit and wiggled between them. She was on the floor. On her knees... Oh! Fuck!

  Warm, silky lips closed over the tip of his cock, and he thrust into the soft recesses of her mouth.

  She sucked hard, pulling a groan from him. He sank his hands into her hair, gripping her head, needing to pull her away but unable to force himself to accomplish that simple task.

  “Babe. Stop. I’m going to—”

  She dipped her head again, pulling him to the back of her throat, lightly grazing her teeth along his length.

  He had no control left. She sucked it out of him. Took it away. One more stroke of her clever tongue over the tip, another draw deep into her mouth, and he shouted. His balls drew up tight, every muscle in his body tensed, and his cock strained as he came. The orgasm seemed to last forever, sucking the air from his lungs, sending him into a peaceful euphoria he hadn’t known in too long.

  Dropping his head back onto the couch, he gulped in deep breaths, trying to come back to reality, but Christy’s sweet mouth continued to lightly suckle, lick and tease him. He groaned and pulled her way when the sensations became too much to bear.

  Christy chuckled, the sound soft, husky, and sexier than hell as she wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head against his chest.

  Mike sucked in a couple more deep breaths and willed his heart to slow to normal.

  “You okay?” he asked when he could think straight.

  She nodded against his chest. Her fingers skimmed over his stomach. “Uh huh. I feel great.”

  It was his turn to chuckle. “That was...damn.”

  Christy shivered. When he skimmed his hands down her back, her satiny flesh was chilled. “You need to put your shirt back on, hon. You’re going to freeze.”

  Her one arm tightened around his waist, and he wondered if she felt as he did; that he didn’t want this sweet moment to end. He was more than willing to sit here, snuggled with her, all night. Maybe...

  “Christy?”

  She pulled away then, and the cold air rushed over him at the loss of contact of her soft body.

  “Does this house even have a furnace?” she asked.

  A smile tugged at his lips at her disgruntled tone. “Yes. The thermostat is on the wall in the hall. Feel free to turn it up.”

  “Thanks. I will.”

  He felt around on the couch next to him for his own shirt, but came up empty.

  “Here.” She wrapped her fingers around his wrist and pressed his shirt into his hand with the other. “But I like you better without it.”

  He grinned and tipped his face up toward the sound of her voice. “Do you now?”

  She brushed her lips over his. “Yeah. You have got the best body I’ve ever seen.”

  With a groan, he reached for her, but she pulled away with a soft, sensual laugh. “I need to brush my teeth, and I want to grab a snack—since you ate my sandwich.”

  “You didn’t tell me that second one was yours.” He frowned. Was she going to go to her room now?

  “No big deal. Want something?”

  He shook his head. “No, thanks.” He found the tag on the collar of his T-shirt so he knew which was front and back then pulled it over his head. He heard Christy’s footsteps leave the living room.

  “I’m turning it up to sixty-five, okay?” Christy called from the hallway. “You won’t melt or anything, will you?”

  “That’s fine.” He tucked himself back into his pants and buttoned the fly. So that’s that? All over? Time for bed?

  Christy barely made it to the kitchen before her knees went weak, and she practically collapsed into a chair by the table. Her heartbeat thudded so hard she thought it would crack a rib. Her body tingled in places that hadn’t come to life in ages. Dear God, what he could do to her.

  “What am I supposed to do now?” she whispered aloud then waited for a response from the voice.

  Nothing. Nada.

  “Where are you? What do I do now?”

  Still no answer came.

  She rolled her eyes and propped her forehead against her hand. What she wanted to do was climb into bed with him and snuggle up next to that gorgeous body. Who needed a furnace when his body gave off so much heat?

  But she had to keep it light. Couldn’t let him know what she was feeling, what she longed for. Less than twelve hours ago he’d fired her and told her to get out. If she pushed now, she’d still be headed out the door. He was a man, and men didn’t confuse sex and love or even sex and affection. Why couldn’t she be that way? What she wouldn’t give to be able to say, “Thanks, that was great,” then not think about it again until the itch presented itself once more.

  Oh, Lord, she could have made love to him all night.

  Her heart rate nearly normal, she stood up and moved to the fridge. She grabbed a slice of cheese and a couple of pieces of sandwich meat. It’d do. She just needed to make it until morning.

  Shutting the door, she listened for sounds of thunder or wind, but didn’t hear anything. Maybe she’d be able to sleep, as long as that damn shingle didn’t wake her up and send her back into her nightmare world.

  “You in here?”

  Christy yelped and swung around.

  Mike stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame, his brow furrowed in a frown. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you. Do you know where my cane is by any chance?”

  She grabbed his cane from the back of the chair and took it to him. “Here. It’s been on the back of your chair all day since...” Could she bring up something else uncomfortable?

  A little, almost self-deprecating smile tipped Mike’s lips as she slipped the cane into his hand. “I meant what I said. I overreacted to everything, and I hope you won’t leave.”

  Because she’d given him a blowjob? No. He’d told her before that. She swallowed hard and looked down at the food in her hand, her appetite gone.

  “You know. It’s really hard for a blind guy to figure out what you’re thinking if you don’t speak. I can’t see your face.” His tone was matter of fact.

  She cleared her throat. “I...um...” She didn’t want to go either, but she also knew that if tonight’s episode on the sofa was a one-shot deal, she wasn’t sure she could stay in the same house as him.

&nb
sp; “Morning after regrets?” he asked, his tone light, but his expression was very serious, his lips turned down in a frown. “That didn’t take long.”

  “No.” She laid her empty hand on his over the handle of the cane. “Mike, I don’t regret anything. I just don’t know where...” Where was her voice when she needed it? Why abandon her now? Wasn’t this what that person—being—whatever the hell it was—had been pushing for? So why wasn’t she here being her annoying self to help Christy figure this out now?

  Because the voice was in her head, that’s why! Jeesh, she really was losing it.

  Mike stared at her with his one unseeing eye, obviously waiting for her to finish her thought.

  She ran her fingers over the back of his hand and sucked in a breath, then counted to ten as she slowly let it out. After coming this far, it would be stupid not to go all the way. “What do you want?”

  A dry, humorless laugh came out of him. “I’ve been alone in this house so damn long, I don’t know anymore. You turned my world upside down tonight. This morning all I wanted was for you to get out so you didn’t tempt me. Now...”

  “Now?” she prompted when his voice faded away.

  He shook his head. “I still can’t believe it.”

  She frowned and pursed her lips. “What?”

  “That you’d...do what you did. With me.” He lifted his hand and ran a finger over his scars.

  Huffing out a breath, she stepped away from him and leaned against the counter. “Do we need to go there again? And, by the way, what I did had nothing to do with pity. Just to set you straight.”

  With a shake of his head, he said, “No. It didn’t feel like pity. It felt...damn good.” He smiled then, and her heart melted. He was so...sweet. A wounded teddy bear.

  Enough of the pussyfooting around the heart of the matter. It needed to get out in the open or they’d never get anywhere. Shoring up her defenses until she thought she could take the rejection that might come, she said, “Was this a one-time shot or...” She licked her lips. “Or will it happen again?”

  “I want you.” The admission was blunt. “I want you in my bed tonight, and the next night, and as long as you want to be there. But that’s not my decision, it’s yours.”

  Her breath caught, and her tense muscles relaxed. She smiled. It wasn’t a declaration of love or anything more than him being honest. Enough for now, though.

  “That’s where I want to be, too,” she finally said and stepped up to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. She laid her head against his chest, his body heat soaking through layers of cotton. Closing her eyes, she breathed in his warm, masculine scent.

  “Thank God,” he said on a sigh and hugged her tight. “I think we need to work on this communication thing.”

  She chuckled and nodded. “Yeah. We need to work on that.”

  He kissed her forehead. “Why don’t you go do whatever women do before going to sleep, and I’ll go warm up the bed?”

  “Okay.” But she didn’t want to let go of him. “But not too warm. We still don’t have any condoms.”

  He disengaged from her and stepped back. “You’ll have to run down to Ryan’s tomorrow and grab some.” He grinned. “First thing in the morning.”

  Before she could open her mouth and tell him why that was an impossibility, he turned away and started down the hall, his cane tapping against the hardwood floor.

  Great. She still had to tell him about her problems now that they’d gotten past his.

  Waiting until he’d stepped into his room to head upstairs, she munched on her late-night snack on the way, then brushed her teeth, grabbed a clean pair of socks, and headed back to his room.

  She frowned. His bed was only a double, which would make for very close sleeping. That wasn’t completely bad, but she’d always liked her space when she slept. Falling asleep cuddling was fine, but she inevitably moved away during the night. Some men, she knew, found this upsetting—one boyfriend from the past had left her because of it; he’d felt rejected. In this bed, there wouldn’t be anywhere to go.

  “If you close the door,” he said, stepping out of the attached bathroom, “it’ll stay warmer.

  That’s when she realized the floor was warm. She could feel it through her tube socks. “Hey,” she said, squatting down to put her hand against the hardwood. “Why...?”

  He chuckled and pulled his shirt off over his head, then tossed it on a chair at the side of the bed. “Hot water pipes running through concrete below the flooring.”

  She cleared her throat and crossed her arms. “This is why you aren’t cold? While I was up in that attic freezing my behind off?”

  His grin was playful and mischievous. He shrugged. “I really didn’t think about it, but yes. It’s not an attic, though.”

  Then he dropped his jeans, and she couldn’t care less about the cold room she’d slept in for two weeks. His thighs were thick and muscular, his legs long, his butt the best she’d ever seen. “Goodness,” she said on a sigh.

  “Are you ogling me?” he asked as he sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled the covers down.

  That’s when she saw the long scars on the top of his right thigh. She went to the bed, sat down next to him, and traced her fingers over his leg. “Is this why you limp?”

  He nodded. “Metal rods holding my femur together. It was shattered in the crash. Don’t even get me started on the amount of metal in my face. Going through airport security was a barrel of laughs.”

  Christy didn’t think anything in Mike’s life since the crash had been a barrel of laughs. She leaned over and kissed his shoulder, nuzzled against his neck. “I’m tired.” She didn’t want to talk about anything else tonight. The emotional landslide she’d been through all day, topped off by the most amazing orgasms of her life, had drained everything out of her.

  “Get in, then,” Mike said, sweeping a hand over the bed.

  She crawled to the other side of the bed, snuggled down under the blankets, and sighed. The entire room smelled like him, but the bed held his elemental scent and wrapped her in it.

  Mike lay down, pulled the blankets up, and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back snug against his front. “This sweat suit might as well be metal armor. I don’t get any skin?”

  Christy chuckled and laid her hand over his on her belly. “Punishment for keeping all the heat to yourself for so long.”

  He nuzzled the hair away from her neck then kissed her, his warm breath tickling her ear, reigniting her body, sending tingles to her fingers.

  She groaned. “Go to sleep.”

  His semi-erect cock nudged against her backside, and she chuckled. Within three breaths, she fell asleep, warm and safe in Mike’s strong arms.

  * * * * *

  Morning sun shone through the east-facing window, warming the bed. Not that more heat was needed. Mike’s blood was already at the point of roasting, having Christy pressed against him, the sounds of her soft, steady breaths taking the chill from his heart that had been there for too many years.

  He wanted to see her. To look into her eyes and know if she felt even a bit of what he did. The heavy-petting session of the night before had been...exceptional. Having her come at just the touch of his hands was amazing. But what came next?

  Rolling to his back, he sighed and propped his hand behind his head. His other arm was firmly planted beneath Christy, half numb from the weight of her upper body, but he didn’t mind. She’d stayed snug against him all night. Even when he rolled away, she would scoot up to his back and wrap her arm around him.

  If he were normal, he’d want to take her out. Dinner, dancing, movies, a walk along the shore. But he wasn’t normal and couldn’t take her anywhere. What kind of man was he if he couldn’t...

  He scrubbed his hand over his face. For the last few years, he didn’t leave the house more than four times a year for his doctor appointments. He’d told Christy about his one foray into a book signing—something he would never repeat. He was conten
t to stay inside, but wouldn’t she want to do things? The stuff normal, dating couples did?

  She had to, because he wanted to now.

  Was she still his housekeeper? Did she want to continue as before with sex thrown in?

  The memories of their arguments from last night echoed in his mind, and he wished he could take all the hurtful words back. She said she accepted his apology, but he’d been so cruel. Could she be the one woman in the world who truly didn’t care about his scars? Didn’t care that he wasn’t a whole man?

  The only people who saw him regularly were Ryan from the store, his accountant, and Christy’s sister. None of them had a problem with him. Beth had even brought her husband for a short stay last summer, using the master suite that Christy now used.

  Could she be right that he’d made himself into something in his mind that he wasn’t? Had hearing that woman at the book signing messed with his mind? Even if the scars didn’t bother Christy, how would she react to going into public with him? How would she handle the whispers?

  Christy scooted closer and laid her head on his shoulder. Her breathing had changed, and he knew she was waking up.

  “Good morning,” he said softly and kissed the top of her head, pausing to breathe in her spicy scent.

  “Hey,” she mumbled. “It’s too bright in here.”

  He chuckled. “First day of sun we’ve had since you arrived, and I don’t hear any wind. Should be a nice walk down to Ryan’s to get those rubbers.” Rolling to the side, he pressed his hard-on against her soft belly and wished she wasn’t wearing those thick sweats. “I know I’m ready for them.”

  When she didn’t respond to his teasing and her body tensed, his good feelings crashed inside him. Here came the morning-after recriminations. Bright light of day—literally—and she got a good look at his face.

  Right. He pulled away and rolled to sit on the edge of the bed. Stupid idiot, getting your hopes up. It was nothing more than sexual release last night. You are the dumb ass who got your emotions involved, opening up to her the way you did.

  “Can’t we just call Ryan and have him add them to the grocery list?” Christy asked, her tone tentative.