by Lady Keisha
“Oh, yeah. Sorry. C’mon up.”
Chapter Five
Slate turned on the heel of his black leather boot and headed away from her as she tottered behind him, still shaky from the ride and the suddenness of her evening. Her body still hummed from all of the vibrations and the nearness of her muscle bound friend.
He strolled to a nearby doorway and unlocked the first door they came to. She followed him into the apartment, and he reached behind her to flip on the light switch. As he shut the door behind her, he rested his palm flat against the cracked wood, right next to her head, and leaned towards her face. His scent, of leather mixed with Ivory, actually smelled intoxicating to her.
“Slate?” she whispered. “Howard?”
“Please don’t call me that,” he admonished.
“Sorry, I’m still adjusting.”
His eyes had softened again and he searched hers for some sign of who she used to be. Marie could not handle the intrusion and averted her gaze away from his. His fingertip was rough against her cheek as he turned her face back towards him.
“Marie?”
Slate inhaled deeply and filled his lungs with the smell of her. He pulled his finger away and ran his hand over his sleek shaved scalp. Her hand crept up tentatively and she ran just her fingertips over the bristly skin. He almost shuddered at the feather touch but bit back the urge.
Marie felt a forgotten surge of heat in her veins as his bicep bulged and his jaw tightened. He did not pull away but every muscle in his body clenched as he struggled with his self-control. He took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
“Would you like something to drink?” he offered.
“S-S-Sure,” she replied in a voice that was barely over a whisper.
He pulled back from her and strode to the kitchen to pull two beers out of the fridge. She wrinkled her nose slightly but took the bottle from him and popped it open.
“What’s with the face?” he challenged.
“Oh that. Sorry. I just, I guess I don’t much care for the smell sometimes, after everything.”
“Ah, well, I don’t have anything else except tap water. I’m not what you call domestic.” He gave a half-grin.
“Oh no, this is fine.”
“You keep using that word, ‘fine.’ I’m not sure anything is fine in your world.”
A sudden spark of anger flickered in her hazel eyes. “Oh really? What’s so normal about your life?”
He chuckled wryly. “Oh we’re not talking about normal here, and we’re certainly not talking about my life.”
Marie picked at the label on her bottle of beer and looked down at her shoes.
“C’mere,” he said softly, taking her by the elbow and leading her to the couch that sagged against the wall.
She followed dutifully and sat down next to him.
“Why are you being so nice to me?” She could hear her own voice wavering with uncertainty and disbelief.
“Why shouldn’t I be? You haven’t done anything wrong and you’re an old high school friend.”
She tightened her lips, “Do we have to use the word old?”
He laughed, “No. How about ‘former’ instead?”
“That works.”
Marie sat perched on the edge of the cushion next to him as he lounged against the back of the couch with his legs sprawled apart. Several times he raised his hand to her back but dropped it back down before making contact. As though each of his motions sent out physical electric sparks, Marie shivered every time but did not look back at him. She kept her back stiffened and her eyes down at the beer bottle.
She inhaled sharply as she felt him move more intentionally behind her. Slate slid out of his leather jacket and laid it on the arm of the couch. This time, when his hand lifted, he lightly touched her back and she jumped.
“I’m not going to hurt you, I just need you to relax,” he said softly. “You’re making me tense here.”
She rotated her torso around to look at him, and her eyes drifted over the grey sleeveless muscle shirt, down his hard chest and flat stomach and back up to his bulging arms. A dark green snake curled in vivid ink around one forearm and gripping the opposite bicep was a black skull with a flaming knife through one of the eye sockets. Her hand drifted up and her fingertips traced the snake’s twists and turns over his skin.
He did not move, letting her touch send ripples of desire through his bloodstream. As her hand shifted to the other arm and outlined the skull and knife, he raised the snake arm and tipped her chin upwards to look at him. In his lifestyle and line of work, rarely did he feel any gentle touch, let alone that of a woman.
“Marie?” he asked quietly.
“Yes?”
“What are you doing?”
“I-I-I don’t know. What are we doing here?” Her breath escaped her lips in tentative gasps.
“You tell me,” he countered.
Chapter Six
Deep inside her belly, she felt the spark of a long forgotten desire. It had been so long since she had been actively interested in sex or even intimacy, yet she could not stop touching this man she used to know as a boy. She felt more connected to him in the last hour or so than she had with her husband in the last ten years.
She slid her fingertips up his arm until they tickled the back of his neck. She felt his broad shoulders rise and fall with a deep sigh. He rested both of his hands on her hips gently and turned her entire body towards himself. Her hands landed flat against his chest and rested there, keeping their bodies apart but not pushing him away. Slate slid his hands from her hips up her sides and down her arms until his large hands covered hers and held them to his own chest.
“If someone had asked me,” he started, “I never would have imagined finding you in that house with that guy. I can’t imagine what path your life presented to you that landed you in that dark hole. You do remember that you deserve better, that you can do so much more?”
She sighed and tried to push back the stinging tears. “I was dating him while I finished paralegal school and I ended up pregnant. We lost the baby after we got married and I guess he’s never forgiven me. Or maybe I’m still punishing myself for everything. I don’t really know. It’s not straightforward. It’s complicated.”
Slate exhaled slowly and squeezed her hands gently against his chest. He lightly gripped her wrists and pulled her closer until their lips were merely inches apart.
“Marie, stop me anytime,” he whispered.
She held her breath for a suspended moment while her mind reeled with the options and the consequences. And she closed the inches between them as she brushed his lips with hers. He returned the tentative motion with a more assured one, pressing his lips firmly against hers.
She pulled back, but just barely. “What are we doing?” she whispered.
“Anything we want. Anything you want.”
She studied his pale blue eyes as they swirled with desire and wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him back to her. His passion was strong but reserved as his tongue tasted the sweetness of her lips. Marie felt her head swim with heated thoughts that she could not untangle. The heat in her bloodstream surged downwards and collected between her thighs.
“Howard,” she whispered, “it’s been so long. I didn’t even realize I missed you. That I missed us.”
Deep inside, the tiny remaining spark of that high school boy flared and he remembered who she had been and how badly he had wanted her back then. They never…back then it was just friendship, but now they were adults. This was something much deeper.
His hands stopped their roving at her waist and he lifted her up to set her on his lap. In her dizziness, Marie straddled his lap without conscious thought and let her hands stroke down his back. He pulled back from the kiss and peeled off her suit jacket. The swell of her full breasts surprised him and he let his hands drift over them as they rose and fell with her breathing.
“I don’t remember these,” he chuckled.
Marie gi
ggled, “They grew in later.”
His rough fingers were surprisingly nimble as he unfastened her blouse buttons, and he slid the top off her body, dropping it to the floor with her jacket. His eyes widened at the firm curves of her breasts under her white satin bra, and her trim waist as it disappeared into her skirt. He winced at the faded bruise on her ribcage and ran the back of his hand over the area as if to wash away the pain. He bowed his head to her collarbone and left a trail of warm damp kisses along her creamy skin.
“Why are you hiding in that bulky oversized suit? You’re gorgeous.”
Marie felt her cheeks flush and she shook her head. “You’ve lost your mind,” she whispered, “I’m just a dumpy housewife who can’t stand up for herself.”
He leaned back into her and left more damp kisses along her neck and throat and chest. Each of his gentle touches nudged the sparks into flames and her belly swirled with neglected desires. Her fingers tickled his stomach as she tugged at his tee shirt, and lifted it up over his head. She ran her fingers through the sprinkle of dark curls and traced the red dragon imbedded in his pec.
“I don’t remember all of this ink,” she laughed.
“Does it bother you?”
“No, I find it…sexy.” her voice trailed off into a mere breath.
Slate grinned at her. “You say that to all the bikers.”
“Nope, just the ones who rescue me,” she teased him back.
He deftly unclasped her bra and let it fall to the wayside with her other clothes. As her breasts fell into view, his hands could not stop themselves from tickling the delicate skin. Marie gasped softly and arched her back to push them into his hands. He pulled her chest against his, trapping one of his hands between them. His fingers teased and tickled her nipples until they were hard against his skin. Her gasps escaped her full lips in breathy little puffs.
“How long has it been?” he groaned against her neck.
“Since when?”
“Since anything.”
“Oh he has sex with me whenever he wants, but it’s been years since…since someone really touched me.”
“Mmmm, his loss is my gain.”
Slate buried his face in her breasts, letting his hand torment one while his tongue teased the other. Marie felt her thighs tighten up and suddenly she became aware of the large stiffness that pressed up into her from Slate’s lap. As he drew her nipples into stiff peaks with his attentions, she discovered that her hips would not sit still. She writhed and squirmed until one of his hands was pressing her down into his groin. Her loose flowing skirt had settled around the two of them, and the coarse fly of his jeans rubbed against her satin panties and against the sensitive places underneath. She felt the spreading dampness inside the satin and was startled by how much she wanted the man underneath her.
“Marie,” he rasped, his desire flowing from his swelling cock into his voice.
“What?” she gasped.
“Stop me now, or don’t stop me at all.”
Chapter Seven
She took a long breath in and held it. As she exhaled slowly, she slipped one hand between their bodies and squeezed his throbbing groin. He groaned and slipped his hands under her skirt to dig his nails into her backside. She squirmed harder against him as he slid his bared teeth against her shoulder.
He released her bottom and fumbled briefly with the zipper on her skirt. It finally gave way and he added it to the growing pile of discarded clothing on the floor. She sat on his lap again in nothing but her white satin panties and he groaned again.
“Goddamn, Marie, if I had known…”
“Known what? Done what?”
“That this was hiding under all of that baggy clothing in high school. I would not have pushed you off so much,” he laughed at himself and his own stupidity.
“Oh…I did want you back then,” she admitted.
“I know, I’m sorry. I might have been able to save you,” he said softly.
Marie leaned in and kissed him again, pulling him against her bare skin and letting the warmth of his body fan the flames of her desire. He pushed her hips up with his hands and body and wriggled out of his jeans from underneath her. As she settled back down on his lap, she felt the hardness of his need pressing up against the wetness of hers.
“No going back now, hmm?” she murmured.
He looked into her eyes hard, the hazel color swirling with brown and green and blue as she wrestled with her desire and her guilt. Slate wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her in the air as he stood up.
“We’re not doing this on the couch like lust-crazed teenagers,” he muttered.
She twined her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck as he carried her to the bedroom. Her lips sought his urgently, parting so that her tongue could tickle his lips. He laid her on the bed and let his eyes rove over her nearly naked body before he climbed on top of her.
His mouth betrayed his need for her. He so badly wanted to take it slow and remind her everything that sex was supposed to be about, but his lips and tongue and teeth wanted to consume all of her simultaneously. He kissed and nibbled his way down the valley of her full breasts, across her trim belly, and dipped teasingly under the waistband of her panties. She squirmed and gasped at every touch, terrified of breaking the moment but desperately wishing he would take her completely.
He hooked his thumbs under her panties and slid them down her legs, slowly revealing her smooth mound and then her slippery wet folds. He groaned deeply in his chest and started kissing the back of her knees. She giggled and twitched, but her giggles dissolved into moans as his mouth moved upwards towards the center of her yearnings.
He exhaled softly, letting his warm breath caress her pussy and her thighs parted as far as she could get them. He placed one soft kiss on the tight folds and she held her breath. As his tongue parted her and tasted everything she had to offer, she groaned and dug her nails into the bed.
Slate’s need for her won out over his desire to take it slow, and he traced his tongue over every crease and fold and hidden secret. The torment was almost more than she could bear after so long but when he finally grazed her aching clit, she nearly screamed. He flicked and curled his tongue around her until she was panting and squirming.
Marie could feel years of ignored needs and neglected desires surging through her body, culminating at the tiny spot where his tongue met her body. Within minutes, the rolling waves crested and she screamed into the dark bedroom as she bucked against the assault of his lust.
As her shudders slowed, Slate yanked his boxers off and crawled up on top of her heated body, gleaming with a glow of pleasure. His fingers slid easily around inside her dripping wetness and within moments he was sheathed and pressed up against her pussy. Marie wrapped her legs around his waist and dug her heels into his ass as though spurring him to enter her. He slid himself inside to the hilt and groaned as her heat enveloped and caressed him.
He paused, letting her body adjust to his size. She writhed underneath him, silently willing him to thrust into her despite his width stretching her more than she had ever felt. As her muscles clenched down on him, his hips took on a life of their own and he slowly pulled out only to drive himself back inside.
Marie gasped and squeezed her thighs around his waist. Her hands wandered over his chest and her nails raked down his flexing stomach. Over and over he drove himself into her, her hips rising with his thrusts. The waves that surged through her body earlier had returned and they threatened to wipe her out completely this time.
“Slate,” she hissed. “Make me cum…”
He growled deep in his throat and thrust faster and harder, feeling his own release starting to tingle at the base of his cock.
“Yes, yes,” she moaned.
He grunted and shoved himself inside her pussy hard, feeling his climax overtake him and his balls empty into her body. She inhaled sharply and then whimpered as the waves swept the reason from her mind through her orgasm. He collapsed
on top of her, panting in her ear.
“Oh, yes,” he breathed.
She wrapped her arms and legs around him and held him down against her.
“I forgot it could be like that. What am I saying? It’s never been like that.” Her words tickled his ear and stroked his heart.
She felt the sleepiness and exhaustion drift into her body and she let it flow until all thoughts of the bruises and the cuts and the fear had seeped out into nothingness.
Chapter Eight
Several months later, Marie rolled over and smiled down at Slate’s sleeping face. Chris was a distant nightmare and Slate’s buddies had made sure that Chris understood it was over. Apparently the duration of the hospital stay had not been too long for him, but it had been just long enough for him to get the picture.
Marie eased herself out of Slate’s bed and jumped into the shower. She had to meet the moving van at the storage unit in order to get her new apartment ready for living. The cool water soothed her skin and she ran her fingers lightly over the dark pink marks on her skin. Apparently while she had been straddling Slate’s throbbing cock the night before, he had raked his nails down her stomach. She grinned as the lines reminded her of the screaming orgasms he had given her.
She was still amazed that after all this time, the feelings she had hoped to one day give Howard had blended so effortlessly into the relationship she had developed with Slate. Despite the shaved scalp and leather clothing and multiple tattoos, he was actually still the same sweet soul she had known. It certainly had taught her a lesson in judging books by their covers.
Even the people at work had commented on the change in her. Susan, the receptionist at work, just told her the other day that she was walking taller and that she had a beautiful smile. She had always been good at her job, but she had never imagined that a happy personal life could have even improved her work product. And while she still enjoyed her solitary lunches in the park with her books, she was less and less opposed to the occasional lunch invite from her colleagues.