Fear.
Scared.
I’m scared.
A soft whimper was heard. Her head snapped left then right as she slid to the floor, crawling around behind the large chair against the wall, listening closely. The knife she kept under the couch cushion was in her hand. Her fist clenched tightly around it as sweat beads popped up on her forehead like unwanted pimples the night before prom. She heard it again, but it wasn’t outside. The sound came from the bedroom. Tiptoeing, she entered the back room to hear Zeke tossing and turning in the dark. When she flipped the light switch, he sat up on the bed, his hands thrown up in defense, so she quickly turned the light back out. His eyes were unfocused as if he were caught unprepared for what would come next.
“It’s me, Zeke, can you hear me? It’s me, your wife Tameka,” he said softly. He mumbled he’d seen her.
Without thinking, she turned back the covers and slid into bed beside him. Her thin arms wrapped around his waist, snuggling close to him, and she lifted one hand caressed his dark hair. “It’s okay, Zeke. I got you Snook’ums. I’m here, honey,” she told him and he stopped struggling.
Her soft, warm legs intertwined with his, easing off the anxiety riddling the tense body. Hearing her voice in his ear, Zeke relaxed into her, drifting off into a peaceful sleep. However, at 3 am, he was wide awake, covered by her body as she snuggled so close it was hard to tell where his body ended and her body began. He tried to move her off him, but each time he moved, she did as well.
“You feel so warm. Please don’t move,” she told him. “I’ve been cold and alone for so long. The touch, the warmth, feels so good.”
“Bathroom, then Michelle,” he lied.
“Hmm, okay,” she said, kissing his neck, sending goose pimples all the way down his good, fully working leg.
“Damn it,” he said, sliding out of the bed. “Damn, damn and double damn.” Tonight would be his night on the couch. He refused to get back in the bed with her. Evidently, it had been longer than he realized since the last time he spent time with something soft and snuggling up next to him. She was improving health wise, day by day and again, he reminded himself, wife, or not, he wasn’t a blow-by kind of guy.
However, the morning would change his tune.
Day Sixteen – Is It Hot in Here or Is It Me?
TAMEKA SHOWERED QUICKLY, dressing in an old tee of Zeke’s and a loosely fitted skirt. Today, she would take care of the Momma Bear chair, make some throw pillows and possibly paint the small bathroom. Her personal care routine with the short hair was a snap and she loved the way Zeke had trimmed up her hair in a feminine, but almost stylish cut. Tomorrow night, they were scheduled to have dinner with Nathaniel and Sharon.
Thankful her appetite had returned, she still was not eating enough according to her husband, whom she had slept beside last night for a short time. It had been so long since she’d had another human’s touch that she found herself feeling some kind of way. The words he whispered in her ear yesterday about being turned on by him kept coming back to her and she began to feel warm.
A tingling sort of warm.
Zeke worked in the bedroom, painting the main wall which also served as the dividing wall for the living room as Michelle lay in her modified bed, staring at the mobile Sharon had sent. At nearly three weeks old, she didn’t know if her daughter was seeing a blur, or just movement, but the baby was entranced by the sound. I wonder what Zeke is thinking about in there?
The warm hit again, but this time lower. Tameka’s lip hung slack as a sudden rush of hormones hit and she instantly wanted to run into the other room, grab Zeke, and rub her body against his until the feeling stopped. Then her nipples began to tingle.
“What in the hell?” she said aloud, bringing him out of the bedroom.
“Tameka, is everything okay?”
She shook her head no as her eyes raked over him in a very sexual way. Zeke knew that look. It was the last call by the bartender in the nightclub look the single ladies gave to the remaining men who were still available at the 2 a.m. bell.
“Honey?” he asked cautiously.
“Is it hot in here or is it me?” She asked, bringing her hand to her breasts, trying to stop the nipples from calling him over to suck at them.
“You’re acting weird,” he said, watching her twitch like she wanted to come at him, but was afraid to move.
“I feel weird. I’m really, really hot right now,” she said, licking her bottom lip and eyeing his crotch.
“Do you want me to bring the fire down a bit? I mean, I have the bedroom window cracked some,” he said, but she had moved and was standing in front of him. The tee shirt clinging in all the right places, sweat beads across her upper lip, and her pupils dilated like she’d had a hit of X.
“Not that kind of hot,” she said, grabbing his belt buckle, snatching it open and sliding her hands down in his pants. “Oooh, that’s nice.”
“Whoa, Tameka, I want to tell you to stop, but that does feel....oh lollipops,” he said, trying to clear his head. “Try to focus Tameka...try to ...good gumdrops, that feels so good.”
He pulled her to the bedroom, falling back on the bed, kissing the soft lips passionately as she hastily unfastened his pants. Common sense was telling him to slow her down, but right now she was holding all of his control in her hand and his control had spent one too many lonely nights trying to reconcile morality with personal needs.
Think man. Think.
“Tameka, your body is not healed enough to do this yet,” he tried to warn her. Mentally and emotionally she wasn’t well enough to do this either. As much as he needed the physical release, moving too fast would be harmful to her recovery.
“I don’t care if you smack, lick, suck it, or nibble on it. I am on fire and I need some relief, Zeke. It’s like I can feel my womb shrinking back to a normal size and it released this gush of hormones through me to mate. You are my mate. Mate with me, damn it!” she yelled, yanking at his pants.
“Compromise,” he said between her fevered kisses. “Let’s find a compromise so we don’t hurt you.”
Her hand went deeper into his pants, massaging him. “Oh yeah, you could really hurt a sister with this,” she mumbled into his mouth. “Hurt me real good, Zeke.”
“Jesus, build a firebreak,” he said, wrestling his way free. Rolling Tameka over on her back, his mouth covered one of her breasts, closing his teeth over the hardened nipple. Fingers slid low into her pants, feeling the dampness, running his thumb over the nub as she worked her hips against his hand.
“More, gimme some more of that,” she demanded.
Zeke applied pressure, giving her more as she bucked against his hand, mewled like a kitten, shuddered, and fell out limp on the bed. Her jaw was slack in satisfaction as she let out a loud sigh of relief.
“Da fudgesicle pop?” he asked looking down at her.
“Don’t worry, Big Boy, I have about four more of those in me,” she said, bounding to her feet, grabbing his jeans, and yanking them down. She dropped to her knees in front of him, holding his manhood in her hand, as if she were examining candlesticks for a crack. “I’ve never done this before, but I have seen two porn movies, so if I am getting it right, moan to let me know, okay?”
Zeke scrambled to his feet. “No, it’s not okay. Please, Tameka, slow down, talk to me,” he said, trying to extricate her hands from his junk.
“I’ve never, you know, given one, but how hard can it be right? I put it in my mouth and suck it and you moan and be happy,” she said, grabbing him again.
This story with my wife just keeps on frickin’ giving.
“Yeesh,” he mumbled, removing her hands again.
“Stop it, Zeke! I’m still hot. I want to try a few new things with my husband. My life partner, my mate. Let’s mate, Honey,” she said.
“You are hormonally imbalanced right now, and as much as I would love to have a wedding night with you, it is in the middle of the day, Michelle is still awake and you, my lo
vely wife, are out of your head right now,” he told her.
“No, I want some of that and you are being stingy,” she said, grabbing him again, trying to put it in her mouth. She was moving it back and forth like a tricky gear shift that got stuck in third.
“Stop it, damn it,” he said. “The thought of you doing that and then kissing Michelle with the same mouth kind of creeps me out.”
“You don’t like getting head?”
“That’s not the point, Tameka,” he told her.
“I sure hope you don’t mind giving it because that’s what I want next,” she said, wiggling out of her pants, standing bare bottom in front of him. “You sure you’re not hot? I am so hot right now, good grief. Get over here and help me.”
She sprawled herself out on the bed, opened wide to him, causing his toes, his nut sack, and everything else in him to jump. Zeke throbbed in his need to connect with the softness she was offering him, but her stitches were still mending and if he had his way, he would rip every one of them apart and her with it. He wanted their first time together to be a tender moment of consensual loving, not this hormonally infused desire to bump uglies. More than anything, he didn’t want her to have any regrets afterward.
Why am I fighting this so much?
Because she is off her fucking nut, that’s why.
“Zeke, I really don’t want to do this myself,” she told him, her fingers going low. The hesitation left him as he watched her fingers move in and out. He nearly salivated watching her pleasure herself.
“Well, I am never one to leave a damsel in distress,” he told her, lying face down on the bed. The satisfying moans from his wife alone nearly finished him off as he took care of the lady’s desire, and by the time she reached for his bullet-ridden body, it didn’t take much for his happy ending.
Afterwards, happy and with a spring in her step, she checked on Michelle, who napped peacefully, so she rejoined her husband in the bed, snuggling close to him. “I know it wasn’t ideal for our first time, but I felt like a crazy woman. My body was screaming for me to get some, and I’m sorry if I came across like some drunken prom date,” she told him.
“Yeah, that was freaky, but I look forward to when you are healed enough for us to actually be together,” he said to her.
“That’s going to be at least another three or four weeks,” she said. “In the meantime, you can teach me other ways to take care of you.”
The tentativeness of her touches told him she didn’t have a great deal of experience with men. Zeke wanted to ask so many questions, there were things he needed to understand in order to move forward with his wife. He wasn’t a low down scallywag, but he also wasn’t a monk. He asked the question, “Tameka were you a virgin before...?”
She shook her head, no, then hesitated. “Technically, no. I had a boyfriend in college, but he was, way too big, and we tried, but it hurt so much he stopped. Then I became so worried that it would always hurt that I lost interest in ever wanting to try again until I got married,” she said.
“Technically, then...you were a virgin?”
“If you are asking if that red-necked Romeo took my virginity, the answer is no. He couldn’t bust a grape let alone a hymen, plus I was not conscious, so he doesn’t count. However, after what Michelle did to my body, I think I can handle this,” she said, taking him in her hand.
“I would never hurt you,” he told her.
“I trust you, but when we do, I guess that would make you my first real sexual relationship,” she said, looking deep into the blue eyes.
Ezekiel Neary, the toughest hombre in the Secret Service, was humbled. Not only was he humbled, he didn’t have a ready, snappy response to what she said. None of it made sense to him, but he didn’t care. She’d done something no other woman had been able to do since the night he’d seen the gurney come from that house. She got through to his heart. He was willing to give her that and anything else she asked for.
“I look forward to teaching you the ways of loving, Tameka,” he said softly, holding her close. “This bed is where you will sleep from now on.”
Day Seventeen – Dinner and a Movie
THE DAY SPED BY QUICKLY as Tameka hung new curtains in the bedroom and at all the windows. She completed the Mom chair, which sat by the fireplace along with two matching pillows for her chair and his. Next was that ugly couch, but today was not the day to tackle it. Tonight, they were going to have dinner with friends. She looked forward to having an evening that seemed normal after everything she’d been through. Moreover, she wanted to see Sharon’s home.
Zeke, dressed casually in denim and a flannel shirt, double checking himself in the bedroom mirror, looked cool and rather sexy to her. Last night, she’d slept in the bed with him as he held her close, sleeping contently. Never once did she fear that he would get ideas and she would wake up to find him on top of her or in her, but that she could rest the whole night, unafraid.
He, too, had slept well, holding her thin, warm body next to his, cuddling like a teenager on his first sleepover with a girl. The nightmares didn’t come last night, and for that, he was grateful. It also excited him to head out to dinner with friends. In his line of work, he didn’t have many of those, if any. He had the job, other agents, and the constant movement of public engagements. Nerves always jittering as he entered a building, or stepped out of her car, preparing himself for the time when the bullet would come, or some zealot would want to make his point up close and personal to the First Lady. Always on the ready.
On the ready was also what he would be when Jimmy Don showed up with the Sheriff. Stupid people always made stupid moves, thinking they had the upper hand. That fool had no idea what he was going to walk into if he showed up on their doorstep looking for the woman or the child. Both belonged to Zeke now and were under his protection. A nice bullet was reserved for Jimmy Don and the Sheriff if either of them felt froggy and insistent upon making a jump.
I need my weapon.
He put on his holster, double checking the clip, sliding it into the holder. The heavy jacket concealed it as he took a look at Tameka and the baby. She only had a lightweight jacket that Sharon had sent over and it wouldn’t be enough to keep her nor the baby warm in the cold evening air. Removing his jacket, he opted instead to wear the hunting one which hung in the closet, slipping the coat he’d initially put on over his wife.
“Slip your arms in, Snook’ums,” he said with a grin at the stupid nickname he knew she hated. As a preventive measure, he grabbed the quilt from the bed to cover them with as they rode through the back trails to Mann’s house.
“Zeke, we don’t have a gift to bring, you know, like a bottle of wine or anything,” she said, standing there, looking like a small child trying to fit her Daddy’s coat.
He held up a finger, going to the bookshelf, saying aloud, “Anna Karenina, Moby Dick, Tolstoy,” pulling down the books as if they would open a secret compartment. Instead, the three novels revealed a bottle of red wine behind each one.
“Mom hid bottles of wine behind the books she knew we would never read,” he said, grinning and blowing the dust off the bottle. Sticking it in his pocket, he went out the front door to the ATV. It was old, but still worked like a charm every time each year they came back and cranked it up.
“Okay Wife, you have bottles, diapers, wipes, a small blanket, a change of clothes?” he asked, looking at the small bag she’d stuff Michelle’s items into.
“I put in everything I think she will need,” Tameka said. “I’m just hoping it’s not too soon to take her out. I mean, she’s had no shots or anything.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if Nate didn’t have vaccines at his house. Hell, he had two pints of O-neg, a catheter, and an IV bottle. I really want to see this house of his,” Zeke said.
He asked her to wait for him in the house as he ran to the garage to get more fuel for the ATV. He wanted to top off the tank just to make sure there was enough gas to get them to Nate’s property and back
. The last thing he wanted or needed was to run out of gas and have his wife walking on her feet which were still in the process of rehabilitating.
The hairs on the back of Tameka’s neck stood up as she went to the window, looking out into the darkness. She spotted movement in the wood line as her heartbeat quickened. Someone was out there watching. Panic filled her as she fixed her eyesight in the darkened spot in the woods. He had found her. I am not your victim Jimmy Don.
I will never be your victim again.
She looked about, spotting Zeke’s phone. Picking it up, she punched in a number she’d called each day and texted each night. Eleven months had passed since he’d heard from her, but today, he would know what happened. Harley would know why she did not show up to marry him. She composed the text in four words which would explain it all.
“Jimmy Don hurt me. - Cuddlebunny.”
She hit send then cleared the message cache. She put his phone in her pocket so that when Zeke came from the garage, she was ready. The hairs on the back of her neck no longer felt prickly and she was ready for an evening of fun.
“I’m ready for a fun evening,” Zeke said waving for them to come out of the cabin.
“You and me both, Hubby,” she told him, coming out the front door. Michelle was swaddled to her body as she zipped up the coat. As a preventative measure, he seated her on the ATV and wrapped her and the baby in the quilt, sliding into the seat in front of them.
“Hold on,” he told her as he cranked the motor, startling Michelle, who began to cry. Tameka bent her head inside of the jacket, humming to the child while she gripped his sides when the vehicle began to roll.
Zeke followed Mann’s instructions to the letter, staying on the back trail, coming around the old fish pond up the back side of his house. The trailheads were clearer than he’d expected, making the fifteen-minute drive to his friend’s house a snap. He pulled in under the porch like instructed, helping his wife off the vehicle and through the walkway, coming under the house, around to the front door. Tapping lightly, he was in awe when the front door opened to a spacious living area.
On a Rainy Night in Georgia Page 13