by Ann Grech
“Have you heard of Blade?” When Zane shook his head, Chloe continued. “I ran into him at work. He’s not real nice. I saw him today. Nothing happened. I had Mo with me, but he scared me a bit.”
Zane looked hard at her, obviously reading the details Chloe had left out from her explanation. Was it her expression giving her away? Chloe was never good maintaining a poker face; her daddy always laughed at her when she’d tried to bluff him during their many card games. “Did you call the sheriff?”
“I tried Deputy Bakos but he didn’t answer. It’s okay. When I got home, I locked the door and then you guys arrived.”
“You got home a couple of hours before us. Sheriff Peterson would have come over if you called.”
“I know, but he makes me uncomfortable. And I didn’t want to be a bother.”
“Why didn’t you call me? I would have come to you.”
“I know, but Cleo needed you more.”
“Come on, why don’t I take you to see Timmy?” He wiggled his eyebrows before grinning at her. “You’ll feel better after you two get nak—”
“Zane,” Chloe interrupted. She was blushing furiously, embarrassed to speak with her sister’s…well, whatever he was, about her non-existent sex life. The truth was that she would love to get naked with Timmy. That thought had been crowding her daydreams since she’d met him. A vision of a naked Timmy pressed up against her nude body, his lips trailing down her throat to that spot that had made her shiver when he’d touched it washed over her, warming Chloe with the tingle of desire. Zane's suggestion sounded perfect right now. “No, stay with Cleo. She needs you more than I do. But I am going over there. I’ll take Mo for a drive with me.” Before Zane could argue, her sisters walked back into the room and she was out of her chair. “I’m going out for a bit. I want to stop at Rake’s house and thank him for coming today. I didn’t really get to talk to him or Timmy at the funeral. Don’t wait up for me. I’ll have Mo.”
Timmy had been avoiding her ever since he kissed her at work, and yet, he showed up to the funeral. She half-expected Rake there, he was already like the big brother she’d never had. But Timmy? Not a chance. Chloe was sure that Claire going ballistic and almost dragging her out of the studio was at least partly to blame for Timmy backing off. The other reasons? Chloe had no idea and it was as irritating as hell. If Rake hadn’t stepped in that day and asked her to prepare the stencils that she’d already done, and politely kicked Claire out at the same time, Chloe would have lost it. She and Claire probably would have ended up having an all-out cat fight in the studio. As unprofessional as that would have been, Chloe would at least have been able to release some of the pent-up emotions tumbling around in her. She was in turmoil. She’d never felt the riot of desire for a man like she did for Timmy. Confusion and frustration whirled around in her. He wanted her but he didn’t. He said he couldn’t be with her, but his body didn’t lie. She was a virgin, but she wasn’t stupid. He let loose a sliver of his control when he kissed her a few days earlier and had reined it in tightly ever since. If she really wanted him, she’d have to persuade him to take her.
Chloe was suddenly sick of waiting.
The little hairs on the back of Chloe’s neck stood on end and a shiver ran down her spine as she stood on the front stoop of Timmy’s clapboard house. Chloe didn’t know what to expect, but this house wasn’t it. Perfectly maintained, the black bay window frames complimented the dark grey façade and roof. The red brick garage set slightly back from the house was open; Timmy’s Harley was parked alongside a spotless workbench with red tool chests lined up along the wall. The veranda that wrapped around the house was stained in a deep walnut. Strategically placed lighting in bushes gave the house an ambient glow that was both charming and sophisticated. There was a cute timber swing piled high with taupe-colored cushions overlooking the darkened front yard. An image of her rocking on that swing in Timmy’s arms flooded her with longing and it took her a moment for Chloe to compose herself enough to knock on the door.
Turning to follow Mohawk’s sudden movement, her closed fist hovering in the air above the door ready to knock she saw Timmy. Shirtless in all his glory, he was striding toward her like a man on a mission, shotgun in hand.
“Get inside before you get yourself shot. You don’t loiter on someone’s stoop without knocking for five minutes.” He grabbed her arm, unlocked the front door and pulled her inside, slamming and re-locking it once Mo had bounded in after them. Timmy went straight over to a cupboard in the corner of the den placing the shotgun in it. He rested his forehead against the closed metal door and breathed out deeply as he turned the lock, his shoulders visibly relaxing.
“I’m sorry I scared you, Timmy.”
“Why are you here, Chloe?” Timmy asked, turning to face her after a moment. His arms were crossed over his broad chest as he leaned against the wall, his stance deceptively calm. But Chloe still felt the tension vibrating from him. The shotgun incident and the sparks that flew every time they were near each other amped up the energy in the room. All rational thought including her run-in with Blade fled her mind as she took in the sight of his naked chest decorated with more of the beautiful artwork that adorned his arms. Her mouth was as dry as the Sahara as she struggled to keep the lid on her desire. The need to lick every square inch of his exposed skin, together with some parts that weren’t, was uncanny.
“Chloe?” Timmy’s prompt drew her back in, grounding her enough that she could answer his question, if only she could remember what it was. He obviously read her blank stare correctly. “Why are you here?”
“I…you…you came. Today. You came. I wanted to say thank you.”
“Rake was there too. Did you stop by his house as well?”
“No. I only wanted to come here.”
“Go home, Chloe.”
“Why? Why do you ask if I went to Rake’s house like you’re jealous but in the same breath, send me away like a child?”
“Because you are one. You’re twenty-one years old for fuck’s sake. I’m thirty-five. Don’t you get it?”
“Age means nothing to me.”
“See that’s something a kid would say. I was already a teenager when you were born,” he spat out as he paced the room.
“And now I’ve finished college and I’m working for you. We’re equals. Well, sort of.”
“I’m almost old enough to be your father. In case you hadn’t noticed, that’s just wrong.”
“So you are attracted to me.”
“We can’t be together. I have needs, Chloe. Needs that you can’t meet.”
“Are you gay?”
“No.”
“Do you like to wear women’s clothing? Because I’m used to sharing my clothes.” Chloe smiled at him trying to break the tension. The conversation was not going in the way her rampant hormones were hoping. She wanted his comfort, his affection, him. She didn’t want to argue.
“No.” He laughed. “No sharing necessary. But seriously, what I want, what I need is dark. It’ll drag you into a life that you aren’t meant for. I won’t do that to you.” His tone was softer than before.
“Do you do drugs?”
“Fuck no,” he replied angrily. “That’s enough. I’m done talking about this.”
“Fine, Timmy. Don’t tell me what it is, but know that despite what you think, I’m not a child. I may be young, but I’m a woman and I want you.” Chloe knew that it was now or never. She took a deep breath and looked Timmy in the eyes. Reaching behind her, she unzipped the same fuchsia V-necked knee-length dress she’d worn to the funeral. The rasp of the zip was the only sound in the room as it slid smoothly down the material fitted to Chloe’s back. One shoulder of the dress slipped off revealing one cup of Chloe’s champagne-colored satin bra. Shrugging off the other shoulder, the dress floated down, the silken material pooling at her feet on the polished timber floor. She stepped out of it, careful not to lose her balance in the silver strappy sandals which had wreaked havoc, poking holes i
n the grass whenever she relaxed her weight onto her heels.
Timmy visibly sucked in a breath and balled his hands into fists, the grey of his irises turning almost flint in the light cast by the lamp near to him as Chloe watched his cock swell, the bulge in his jeans growing with every second. When she reached up to the front clasp of her bra and unsnapped it, Chloe ran her eyes down Timmy’s body. Since she’d seen him earlier today, he’d changed into a worn pair of black jeans, which sat low on his hips, way below where a pair of underwear would. His erection was pressed hard against the length of those jeans, its entire head and part of his shaft now peeping above the top of the waistband. Chloe had never seen a man’s erect penis before and if she’d seen a photo of Timmy, she wouldn’t have believed it was real. She didn’t think that any man could be that large. His cock was huge, so thick that she’d struggle to wrap her hand around it. It reached nearly to his navel, a bead of pre-cum glistening on its tip as he watched her like a hawk. It was almost like he was frozen to the spot, his posture tense.
Seeing Timmy’s reaction to her aroused Chloe beyond measure. Being nearly naked with this man, the one who only needed to innocently brush up against her to make her burst into an inferno of need had her nipples puckering to hard points in her bra. Its silky material was almost too much stimulation for the sensitive buds, but she craved more. She was desperate to feel the pinch of Timmy’s fingers, calloused from holding a tattoo machine for endless hours, on the heavy weight of her breasts, the rub of his wet tongue, the pull of his teeth on her soft flesh. Stripping her bra off, Chloe tossed it onto the floor and looked up at Timmy, waiting for him to move. He wavered minutely, long enough to show the hairline crack forming in his rock solid control. It was obvious from both the tick in his jaw as he clenched and unclenched, and his white-knuckled fists that Chloe’s actions were affecting him. His ability to resist his body’s desire for her, despite his cock looking painfully hard, only made Chloe want him to let go of that control. No, that wasn’t quite right. She didn’t want him to give up control. She wanted his control focused on her, rather than directing it inwards at himself. The thought had barely formed inside her mind when instinct took over, the words tumbling out of her mouth. “Please Timmy, control me.” She didn’t know how, but Chloe understood on an innate level that Timmy wanted to hear those words from her. Like a key piece of the puzzle falling in place to reveal the image before her, Chloe recognized what the darkness in Timmy was.
Chloe wasn’t afraid. It was her counterpoint.
Chloe hooked her fingers into her matching satin panties intending to slide them down her legs when Timmy moved. Quick as a flash, he’d spun her around to face the wall, grasped her wrists and planted her hands flat on the taupe surface above her head. He pinned her against his hard body, his fingers closing around her throat in a gesture that screamed of possession.
“You’ve played a dangerous game, pretty girl, and now you’re gonna find out what the darkness is. Say red and I’ll stop but otherwise, no moving and not a sound out of your mouth until I tell you. And if you come before I give you permission, I’ll cane your ass ‘til you can’t sit. Got it? Say the words.”
“Yes. Red to stop. Timmy, there’s…”
“No talking, pretty girl.”
One arm pinned her body against his as he held her throat, squeezing just hard enough to stake his claim over her. He moved his other hand away from her wrists and trailed his fingertips along her arm. The touch was tender, seemingly at odds with his harsh words a moment earlier. Timmy cupped Chloe’s breasts, kneading their weight without touching her sensitive nipples. She struggled to hold in a moan at the contact, biting down on her lip to stop any sound escaping her. Closing her eyes, Chloe concentrated on the way Timmy was mapping the curves of her body, his fingertips trailing across her collarbone and down her sternum to the sensitive skin between her breasts, under them and up her sides then down again to her panty line. He danced his fingers to her navel and circled it before once again moving both hands back to her breasts. All the time, his hot breath fanned her throat as he looked over her shoulder. She felt his eyes tracking the gooseflesh that appeared in the wake of his touch and the shivers of delight that she was barely able to contain. Timmy’s fingertips rimmed Chloe’s areolas and he rubbed his thumbs over her straining nipples. She was burning up under his skilled hands, her pussy throbbing with desire, every nerve ending in her body on high alert. Her moan was unstoppable; she failed to keep it in no matter how hard she tried. She knew the moment it left her lips that she was in trouble. But, instead of stopping, like she expected Timmy to do, he pinched her nipples hard and bit down on the tendon in her neck until she was sure she would wear his mark for days. Her breath hitched as his rougher touch sent another bolt of wetness through her pussy.
“Good girl,” Timmy murmured against her neck before softly licking the shell of her ear and gently kissing her lobe. One of his hands danced lower, seeking out her molten core. Chloe would have been embarrassed by the dampness of her panties, but the low groan of satisfaction that Timmy made when his hand connected with the smooth fabric dissipated her self-consciousness in a flash. He slipped his fingers under the elastic waistband and teased her outer folds with gentle caresses before gliding two fingers through her wetness and into her throbbing center. Chloe bit her lip until she tasted the metallic tang of blood as her head thunked back against his strong chest.
Timmy’s movements were slow, calculated, bringing her to the edge of an orgasm quickly as his work roughened fingers pumped into her, sliding against her clit with every movement he made. She concentrated on her breathing. In and out, slow, deep breaths as she fought the urge to cry out, to moan and buck her hips against him. Her tortured lip throbbed with each beat of her heart in time to the pulse in her clit as Timmy’s stimulation inched her closer to the knife-edge of ecstasy. They felt the tightening in her core at the same time, Timmy’s movements so attuned to hers at that moment. He pulled his fingers away from her, yanking down the panties that had only made it to the underside of her ass. As Chloe’s strangled cry of frustration left her lips, it turned into a shriek of pain and shock as Timmy yanked hard on her hair, turning her head to his. His mouth crashed against hers, possessing her entire being with his lips. His tongue swept into her mouth, licking hers in a frantic display of primal passion and power. Timmy’s teeth clashed against Chloe’s, bruising her already bleeding lip.
His fingers, still wet from her juices, slid down to her ass, rimming her puckered hole before pressing against it. “I’m gonna fuck you hard and fast here pretty girl. Are you woman enough to take me here tonight? You want my cock there? Or did you dream of missionary on the bed with candles and flowers?”
Chloe didn’t answer, squeezing her eyes and lips closed to stop her whimper. If she was being truthful, she’d never imagined anal sex as anything that straight couples did. A guy had a cock, she had a pussy. One plus one, right? Having something up her ass didn’t sound enticing on its own, but uttered in Timmy’s taunting, dirty rasp had her excitement ramping up again. True, she’d fantasized about losing her virginity in the traditional way but she would prove to Timmy she could handle anything he wanted to do to her. His cock slid between her legs, becoming coated in her arousal as his hands gripped her hips. When he pressed the tip of his cockhead against her ass, she instantly felt the burn and screamed. “Red, red. Please no, not that. I’m not ready. Please, Timmy.”
“Hush, pretty girl. Don’t worry, I know you aren’t ready. I’ll tear you to shreds. Come for me when you can,” he whispered as he kissed the tears from the cheek closest to him and once again, moved his fingers around her front to her pussy. He rubbed his cock back and forth, continuing to use her natural lubrication to coat himself as his fingers unerringly found her clit and rolled it in time with his fingernail rasping over her nipple. It was only a moment, or perhaps an eternity later that Chloe’s body shuddered, her core clenched and a flood of fire erupted through her. He
r choked gasp was all her seizing muscles would allow to escape. This was no low level orgasm, no gentle hum that made her feel…fine. No, this was earth-shattering, her legs instantly becoming jelly, her lungs closing as her world tipped on its axis. She didn’t register that Timmy had spread her legs with one hand on each inner thigh and picked her up until she felt the sharp burn of tearing flesh as he slammed into her. She screamed as pain raced through her lower belly and Timmy pressed harder into her, pumping hard and fast. Chloe was suddenly aware of her cervix as Timmy’s cock slammed against it time and time again. Her elbows locked, planting the heel of her palm hard against the wall to stop herself falling face-first into it. Chloe wrapped her legs behind her and around Timmy’s hips. She wanted to feel every inch of his body, but her damn shoes were still on, the heels probably pressing uncomfortably into Timmy’s ass. His grunt and harder thrust told her he liked it. At least Chloe hoped that was what it meant because she was holding on for dear life. His thumb pressed on her clit, extending the shockwaves from her epic orgasm through her body until she was on edge again.
“That’s it, pretty girl. Come all over my cock and I’ll flood you. I wanna watch my cum dripping from your sweet pussy so I can flip you over and fuck you again on the table. I want those sweet tits in my mouth and your legs hooked over my shoulders as I drive my cock into that tight pussy of yours. Fuck, never felt anything so good. Come on, Chlo, give in, baby.” Timmy’s dirty words pushed Chloe to the edge, but the pleading tone in his voice at the end was what did her in. She cried out as another orgasm swept over her and like an avalanche, this one tossed her body around like a ragdoll, until she felt like there would be nothing but pieces of cloth and stuffing left in Timmy’s arms. Timmy’s low growl and his stilted thrusts signaled that his orgasm had the same force as hers and he collapsed against her back, breathing hard. Chloe’s arms gave out, no longer able to hold both of their weight and she fell forward as Timmy stumbled backwards. They crashed to the floor, Chloe landing harmlessly on top of Timmy’s much larger frame. They were quiet except for Timmy’s “oomph” until both their senses returned and they realized their haggard breathing wasn’t the only noise in the room. Mo was whimpering, his claws scratching on the timber floors as he raced backwards and forth along the room.