by Iona Rose
I keep up with my pace.
Then she catches up with me. This earns me a soft hit on my arm. “Why don’t you want to take one?” she asks.
I ponder on the question for a little while and then give her an honest response, “I don’t know. It’s been a very long time since I indulged in things like that.”
She watches me for a few minutes before she speaks again, “When was the last time you went on a vacation?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever been on one. I’ve just always traveled for meetings and conferences.”
“Hmm.” She nods. “Come to think of it I haven’t been on one either in a while. The only one I can remember is from ten years ago. It was the last vacation I had with my dad. We were still living in Houston then, so we went on a trip to SeaWorld in San Antonio. I remember the dolphins and their water show and popsicles and the heat and of course, these monster turkey legs.”
“What?” An amused snort escapes my lips.
“I’m not joking. I still think about them. We didn’t have the time to get any and maybe they weren’t actually that big, but because I was still so little then, I remember them as being gigantic.”
I smile at her story, but then it brings memories to mind of my own father. “When you lost your father,” I ask. “How did you take it?”
She contemplates the question silently before responding, “I was devastated,” she says. “I was quite close to him, and he was always on my side when my mother and sister weren’t. At the time, I think that was what hurt the most. I felt like I was truly alone and would forever be because the one person that was always in my corner was gone.”
“Was that how it played out?” I ask, not missing the sadness in her gaze.
“No.” She laughs softly. “My sister came to my side. Before then, we were at odds but after he died, she for some reason saw it from then onwards as her responsibility to make sure I was always protected. And it’s been that way ever since.”
I retreat into my own mind and thoughts about my own father.
“I know you’re very worried,” she says. “About your father. But he’s still here and there’s still hope. So don’t despair just yet, if that is why you feel so forlorn.”
“My biggest fear,” I tell her. “Is that one day, he’ll be gone and I’ll forever feel like I didn't do enough to help him. And at the same time I’m scared that I will forever resent him for not letting me.”
Chapter Forty-Six
Blair
We soon reach the top of the trail at the Gold Hill Peak and are gifted with the magnificent views of the Clinton Creek watershed which descends northwest and forms a reservoir in the valley below. We are both silent as we take in the views over the ridge of a wide expanse of meadows backed by sawtooth peaks.
It is breathtaking, but it’s just as impressive as the man standing tall and staring at it with me in a silent wonder.
This is a beautiful moment, and I realize that I don’t want to let it pass. So I pull out my phone and before he can complain or catch my intention, I quickly take a picture of him.
He soon notices what I’m doing and instead of a stern reaction, he smiles.
“Am I going to get fired for this?” I ask.
“Let’s take one together,” he suggests
My heart nearly stops in my chest. “Okay,” I respond, and cautiously go over. We turn our backs to the beautiful horizon, and our faces to the glow of the sun. He slips his arm around my waist and we both smile somewhat awkwardly for the very unexpected photo.
Afterwards, all I want to do is to stare at it, but he’s right beside me as we get back into his car to return to the city.
The pit of my stomach however is churning out butterflies and it makes the fully air conditioned car still feel somewhat too warm for me.
“What about my pancakes?” he suddenly asks.
I turn to look at him, unsure for a moment on how to respond to this. Then I bite my bottom lip to hide my smile at the major disappointment that I’m about to deliver. “Um well...”
Just then, he comes to a stop at a traffic light, and turns to hold my gaze.
I’m incredibly intimidated by that stern gaze but equally just as amused. “My plan was to get you some delicious ones at IHOP. Have you ever had their Cinn-A-stacks? Absolutely nothing else beats that.”
He stares at me without blinking.
I try my best to keep a straight face but it’s too difficult. My hand covers my mouth to hide my smile.
Grady shakes his head and returns his attention to the road. “We’ll go to the store instead,” he says. “I’ll make you pancakes.”
A half hour later, I’m still somewhat dazed as I sit on one of the island stools and watch Grady crack eggs into a bowl. In goes the milk then the baking powder and I’m mesmerized. My expectation was that he would be struggling to figure out a recipe gotten off the internet but instead, he’s working as though he’s done this a hundred times in the past. “You know how to cook?” I ask, completely stunned.
“Just pancakes, coffee, and eggs I guess,” he says as he begins to measure out the flour. “Plus, this was my dad’s specialty and he made it every chance he could get.”
I want to ask about his mother, but I’m a bit reluctant since he hasn’t mentioned her himself. With Grady, as I’m starting to realize, just the right degree of intrusion per time is recommended. Any more, and he is bound to close up like a clam. Plus, we have taken leaps and bounds in our relations with each other today, and I am more than satisfied with the level of progress attained so far.
“How are you going to serve it?” I ask, almost mesmerized by the effortless motions of his wrist as he works the batter in the glass bowl.
“What do you usually like yours with?” he asks.
“The usual; berries and syrup. Sometimes, I add some whipped cream but we didn't get that from the store.”
“Alright,” he says. “I’ll clean the blueberries. How many of them do you want?” He shakes his head. “I usually have mine like a taco. More savory than sweet, with some bacon, cheese and eggs.”
“Hmm, I’ve had this before too. They’re not bad. I still want my berries though, so I’ll just have a bite of yours.”
With a smile, he retrieves a pan and places it on the induction range. “You know those people that can share anything except their food?”
I laugh, already aware of where he is going with this condition. “Yeah?”
“I’m one of those.” He nods.
A little while after, we are both seated beside each other at the island counter and I’m eyeing his appetizing looking taco pancake. “I want a bite,” I say.
He purposefully keeps his plate away from me. “Not happening.”
With a pout, I ponder on what to do seeing that he is extremely vigilant. So I rise to my feet with my own emptied plate and sigh heavily as I move past him. Just as I’m about to completely walk away however, I pounce onto his back and grab the wrist holding his paco.
He bursts out laughing and tries to pull his hand away from me. Since I refuse to let go however, his strength has me falling on him and it should have thereafter sent me rolling off to the floor but he catches me with an arm around my waist and holds me in place.
Assured of my balance, I still continue fighting for the bite of his paco to his immense amusement.
He soon gives up and I’m able to bring his last forkful to my mouth. The paco is absolutely delicious and especially sweeter, due to my hard won fight for it. I also love the way he’s watching me. His eyes are mixed with amusement and wonder and it makes my recent boldness begin to dissipate. I turn away shyly as I swallow, but his grip around my waist tightens. He turns my face to his, slants his head and I’m overtaken by a deep, heart stopping kiss.
This kiss is different and I can feel it in the depths of my soul. He resumes and pauses the kiss like he’s savoring a delicacy and one that he incredibly treasures. My face is cradled in his hand, as the warm velve
t of his tongue strokes mine in a sensual dance, while his other hand gently caresses my waist, sending currents of mind numbing pleasure through my body.
When we finally part, I’m completely breathless and almost frozen in place. I’m still not ready to open my eyes but I do sense him softly brush my hair over my shoulder.
“Thank you,” he whispers and then begins to straighten my posture.
My eyes come open then but I don’t dare ask exactly what the thank you is for.
Without a word, I take his plate and mine and we both head over to the sink.
We both rinse them in a comfortable silence, each contemplating our own thoughts especially at the depth of affection that had been packed into that kiss. He helps me load the dishwasher.
Now, I stand around almost confused at what to do next. “I’m going to go,” I eventually say. “I think I’ve given Layne and her husband enough time to themselves today.”
“Ah,” he says. “We finally hear the real reason behind forcing me to go on a hike and to make pancakes for you. Expertly played.”
I’m not even apologetic as an appreciative smile just for him, curves my lips. “Thank you,” I say. Then I turn around and head to the foyer to grab my things. He escorts me to the door, and even though I want to stay a bit longer, I am reminded of the clam that he is. That kiss no doubt shook him as much as it did me, so I know it’s time for the both of us to take a little step away from the other before the flight mode is activated on both sides.
He pulls the door open.
I’m just about to leave when I stop. I turn around and give him a hug. “Your dad will be fine. Let’s hope for the best.” I soon let him go and begin to head towards the elevator, but then suddenly he calls out to me.
I turn to see him watching me from the door.
“How about tomorrow?” he asks. “Don’t you still need to give your sister and her husband some space?”
My heart jumps at the proposition. “I do. I was planning to spend it with a friend of mine at a bar or something.” This response immediately brings to mind our first time ever together at a bar, and I don’t know if it is imagined or not but his tone thereafter sounds a bit harsher.
“Spend it with me,” he says. “Let’s watch a movie here together.”
I have absolutely nothing to consider or think about, so I immediately give my response, “I’d love to.”
Chapter Forty-Seven
Grady
“How do you get through to people?”
Blair is nestled in my arms as we lounge together on the couch, her head in the crook of my neck. The movie we are watching is about a female temporary worker who is hired to tap into her manager’s phone in order to get information damning enough to get him fired. Somehow, that insight into his personal life reveals a part of him that she empathizes with and it changes her agenda from hurting him into saving him.
Blair inclines her head to glance at me. “You’re referring to the manager, right?”
“Yeah,” I reply. “The temp girl is so ... unlikeable, and they’re not even in the same age bracket. He’s twenty-five years older than she is. So how were they able to connect that deeply?”
She turns away to contemplate the issue as we continue watching the movie and I do the same. “Kindness?” She suggests. “He was kind to her when others weren’t.”
“Is it that simple?” I ask, my mind on my father.
“Empathy,” she says. “I think that’s what it is. By tapping into his phone, she realized that they were both quite similar.”
“Because of their similar struggles in taking care of their families?”
“Yeah,” she says and glances back once again to stare into my eyes.
I love it when she does that. It’s very rare in the office that she is this bold, but when we are together like this, she completely unravels and becomes as intimate with me as she wants to be. I study the streaks of hazel in her eyes and can’t resist the urge to lean forward to plant a kiss on the tip of her nose.
Blair affectionately wrinkles her nose at the contact, and we both return our attention to the movie. Soon however, I note she is moving against me. Her movements are sneaky and suggestive but the effect on my libido is clear. “I thought you wanted to watch the movie,” I say to her.
She laughs under her breath, well aware of what she is up to. “I do,” she says. “But must that be all that we do?” She glances back once more to meet my gaze.
I see in it, exactly what she wants. She’s wearing a short leather skirt today, which I begin to undo the buttons of all while our gazes are still locked on the screen. Her zipper soon follows and then my hand gains full access to her silky folds. I slide in past her lace covered crotch and grip hard at her sex.
The small gasp that escapes her lips spurs me on. My hand, slightly damp with her arousal, slides in through her underwear. My fingers sink in between the lips of her sex and at the hard stroke of her engorged clit, her body slightly jerks.
I no longer have any interest in the movie, so I shut my eyes and rest my head against hers, solely focused on delivering the most sensational of releases to her.
One finger slides into her and then another, and my thrusting begins.
She can no longer remain quiet, her soft whimpers are encompassing me and drowning out the sound of the still playing movie. My thumb joins in the assault, stroking the bud of her desire in a gentle circular rhythm that soon has her writhing uncontrollably against me. My hands are completely soaked as they oscillate between thrusting hard and fast into her, and stimulating her clit to heighten the sensation.
“Grady,” she breathes and arches her hips with her eyes clenched shut and her hand gripping my thighs. “Oh God...” she continues to moan as she nears her climax.
I chase it down vehemently. She climaxes with a violent shudder that I feel just as powerfully against my body. Her release is coming in a heated, steady rush down her opening into my hand and I slick it all over her sex. I continue to stroke her gently to wring out every inch of pleasure still left within her and it’s an absolute delight to watch the heavy rise and fall of her chest gradually settle.
Blair turns to glance at me then with glazed eyes. Slanting her head, she captures my lips in a passionate kiss that leaves my head spinning so much that I don’t even realize my phone is ringing. When we part, I just stare at her until she nudges me slightly.
“Your phone,” she laughs.
I glance over at the coffee table, where it is. “Ignore it,” I say to her and yank her skirt down her legs.
“It might be an emergency,” she reasons while giggling.
I struggle to get her underwear to follow next. For a second, that rings an alarm through me but I force myself to ignore it. A few minutes later, she’s astride me on the massive couch and riding me with a near crazed ferocity. The room was just a little while earlier cool enough for the both of us, but right now I can feel the dampness of our skin, wet with the perspiration generated from our uninhibited fucking.
Our chests are heaving and our breaths wheezing, her lips are whispering the naughtiest, lust crazed words to me. “Holy fuck, Grady... you're so fucking... nngh... this is so fucking good. Right there… right t-there… mmmm.”
I’ve never been much of a talker during sex and neither have I particularly favored it from my partners, but I have found that with Blair, her incoherent moans and cries of just how powerful the sexual torrent I’m stirring within her is, is one of my absolute favorite things in the world to listen to.
My hands dig into her soft, luscious ass as I lift her into hardened, vicious thrusts that rattle her entire frame.
A small scream sounds from her throat, and I capture her lips in mine to savor much more of her essence and passion. I curse as everything tightens and boils within me, nearing its desperate release and I feel the same restlessness within her. “Come Blair,” the harsh command sounds, as the ability to keep up my pace and hold back my release begins to dimini
sh.
It is almost automatic. Her cry is thready, and filled with a beautiful anguish that expresses perfectly just how I feel. It seems as though everything in my body and life unravels, the storm of pleasure inside me exploding like fireworks.
She collapses onto me and it’s quite a while before either of us feel the need, or are even able to move.
“Is it just me,” I ask. “Or does every time with you just seem to get better?”
She shakes lightly in laughter, and it causes me to tighten my arms around her body, so she doesn’t fall off. I’m almost drifting off to sleep when she reminds me of my earlier missed call. Since I’m reluctant to move, she peels herself off me, much to my protest. My cock slides out of her and the discharge that follows, spilling onto my thighs and the sofa, is so erotic that for a few moments I can only stare at it.
She soon returns with the phone.
I grab at her waist to pull her back to me. I unlock the screen and it’s the Sheriff. The very sight of his name immediately drives away the bliss and contentment I was just experiencing, because it can only mean one thing; that my father has once again, stepped out of line.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Blair
Watching Grady’s face fall so drastically, is so disheartening to see.
And as I have come to learn now, this call could only mean his father is once again in some kind of trouble.
He listens quietly, nodding his head and then he says. “I hear you. I’ll be right there.” He ends the call and then stares straight ahead at nothing. He rises to his feet and begins to put his clothes on. Quietly.
I don’t know what to say at first and don’t want to intrude with questions, so I also gather my clothes and begin to dress myself.
“Blair, I have to go to Aurora,” he says. “You can remain here if you want to, or go home. I’ll give you a call later on.”