by Lydia Rowan
Her building sat in the middle of the block, the buildings on either side nonresidential, which was perfect for his purposes. This late at night, most businesses were closed, so he’d climb the fire escape, as he did now, and cross over to her building on the roof, the five-foot gap between an easy leap. From there, it was simple—too simple—to enter the rooftop door. It was labeled Emergency Exit, but the alarm had long since been disabled and the landlord hadn’t cared enough to notice or repair it. He might pay the owner a visit and encourage him to make needed repairs. Julie deserved better, and so did the other residents who paid hard-earned money to live there.
The trip down the six flights of stairs was quick, which was probably for the best since it didn’t give him a chance to change his mind and leave. He couldn’t rest until he saw her.
He arrived and tapped lightly at her door. No light was seeping through the cracks, and he didn’t hear the television or radio. Maybe she was sleeping. Or ignoring him. Or maybe she didn’t even know it was him. He’d always counseled her to be on guard, and a knock at the door this time of night was something to be wary of. He’d just about talked himself into leaving when he heard the sound of someone stirring inside. Then, a moment later, he heard the slide of the chain and twist of the two locks, followed by a low creak as the door opened a sliver.
The door mostly obscuring her body, she stuck her head into the small open space and looked up at him, eyes flat and hooded with suspicion. Even still, the sight of her made his heart soar.
“May I enter?”
A long moment stretched between them before she stepped back and opened the door. He came in, and she locked the door behind him and stood, eyes still wary.
He looked at her, noticed that her feet, topped by trim, lovely ankles were bare, as were her smooth, muscular calves. He followed the curves up, over her plump knees and to her full thighs before he noticed she was wrapped in a winter coat, which she held together with her crossed arms. The position of her arms beautifully framed her breasts, and even through the thick fabric of the coat he had no problem seeing the full curves underneath. The throbbing in his head receded, and he became aware of the more acute throb of his cock.
“Cold?” he asked, the deep, gravelly tone of his voice betraying the arousal he wanted to hide.
Charitable as always, she gave him a brief smile, though the emotion didn’t reach her eyes. Then she sighed and walked toward him, the flex of her muscular legs and the slight sway of her breasts distracting him briefly.
“Are you hurt?”
He shrugged and pointed at his head. “It is small. Nothing serious.”
She walked around him, and he heard her sharp intake of breath.
“Oh God. You have stitches in your head, and you call it small?” she said as she reached up and grabbed his shoulder.
“It’s superficial. Bloody but not deep.”
“It’s a head injury!” She stood in front of him now, her hand still on his shoulder and her jacket open, the gaping material revealing the vast curves of her breasts, the gentle slope of her stomach, and the dark thatch of curls covering her mound. He hardened instantly, and images of taking her in his arms, peeling off that jacket to fully expose her, played in his head.
“Hey, are you with me here?”
Her words made his gaze snap to her face, and he saw the concern and anger in her eyes. It warmed him. He couldn’t remember a time, even before his mother died, that anyone had looked at him like that, like his well-being was the most important thing in the world. He reached up and stroked her cheek, ran his thumb across her soft jawline.
“I am, and I’m fine. Better now.”
She leaned in to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, held him gently, as if he were fragile. The heat of her, the soft press of her flesh, unleashed something in him, and he pulled her close, leaned down, and touched his lips against hers, hard, seeking. The jolt of her arms made him fear she would pull back, but instead, she pressed closer and opened her lips on a sigh. Not willing to let the opportunity pass, he slipped his tongue into the warm cavern of her mouth and exhaled deeply at the contact. He stroked her tongue with his, traced every inch, the fire in his belly sparking at the luscious sensation and taste that was so quintessentially her.
But his Julie—he’d given up the battle, could no longer deny that she was his and he hers—wasn’t content to passively accept his kiss. She stroked up his arms to cup his face and stood on tiptoe, putting her all into the kiss. Her new position crushed her breasts against his chest, and with an animalistic growl, he broke away to look down at her.
“I want you, Julie. Now.”
Her passion-glazed eyes were bright and shiny, and rather than respond, she tossed the jacket off stood before him, her usual reserve replaced with a hungry determination he’d never seen in her. Running her hands across his abdomen, she stood on tiptoe again and caught him in a commanding kiss. Then she grabbed his hand and led him across the room, his gaze glued to her round, swaying ass. She walked him through the curtains and stood him in front of the bed before reaching up to grab handfuls of his shirt, trailing her fingers across his newly exposed skin as she pulled the shirt up and over his head, careful of his wound.
The press of her full, firm lips in the center of his chest made him shiver, a feeling that was only amplified when she settled her hands on his belt and began unbuckling it, the fleeting motion feathering over his crotch and making him impossibly harder. She unbuckled and pulled his pants down, and his underwear with them, as she settled on her knees, his cock standing at full attention, perfectly aligned with her mouth. She glanced up at him, and at the teasing question in her eyes, he couldn’t help but smile back as he reached out and smoothed his hands across the lovely expanse of her brown shoulders and down her chest, the scrape of his fingers across her nipples causing them to go taut.
By now, precum had started to dribble from his cock, and mercifully she leaned forward and snaked her tongue across his tip, gathering the fluid that had collected there and laving his slit, once, twice, a third time. Just as abruptly, she leaned back and said, “Sit.”
Confused and aroused beyond belief, he complied, and she went to work on his boots, unlacing and then removing them before she pulled his pants and underwear off completely.
She stood, and her heavy breasts hung before him tantalizingly, and his mouthed watered for a taste of the dark berries of nipples. He grabbed her full hips to still her, curved his fingers around the generous flesh, and leaned forward to take one of the tips into his mouth, stroking his tongue over her nipple before closing his lips over it to suckle her. She leaned into his touch, and he chuckled at her soft, purring sigh. He traced down the outside of her thigh, over her knee, and back up her inner thigh, toward the heat he could feel radiating from her core, which he could tell was slick with moisture. One stroke, two, and his finger was coated with her juices. He added a second finger and spread her lips to open her to him, the sweet, musky scent of her sex drifting up to him. Fingers crooked, he prepared to plunge them into her, but she placed a hand on his wrist to stop him. Then she cupped her hands around his neck and gently pulled his head away and stepped back.
“One second,” she said, and she went back through the curtain and into the small bathroom. The box in her hand as she returned was familiar, a new package he presumed since they’d used all of the others, and he could see the flush of embarrassment that reddened her cheeks under her dark skin. Her hands quivered a bit as she retrieved the foil packet, but her motions were controlled as she removed the protection and slid it over his straining cock.
Anger flared for a moment, though he quickly quelled it. He didn’t want any barrier between them, but he couldn’t ask that of her, not yet, when he hadn’t even told her his name. She settled over him, hands on his shoulders, one knee over each of his hips, his cock aimed directly at what he wanted most. He resisted the urge to hold her still and thrust up into her, knowing that despite her arouse
d state he needed to prepare her first. But before he could move, she slammed down, taking him inside her in one swift motion. He heard her soft intake of breath, felt her delicate folds spreading to accommodate his length and girth. Brow furrowed and eyes closed, her face was a mask of concentration, and he lowered his hips, trying to pull out of her.
“No. Stay—”
“But I hurt you—”
She opened her eyes and looked down at him. “I want this. Just give me a moment to adjust.” She wiggled experimentally, and he moaned at the sharp tug of pleasure that shot through him. When she leaned down to kiss him, her muscles tightened and he again moaned at the sensation.
“See,” she said, “I’m fine. Better now.” Her tone was teasing as she echoed his earlier words.
She moved her hips incrementally, and it was her turn to moan. He rubbed her hips and sides, occasionally tweaking her nipples, but he let her set the pace, and after a few more experimental movements, she began to ride him in earnest, up until he was almost completely outside of her, then down, quick and hard until he was buried as deep as he could be. The sounds of her harsh breaths mixing with his and the quiet slap of flesh against flesh filled the small space, and soon, far too soon, he felt his balls pull tight to his body. He began to thrust up, and she reached down and began furiously rubbing her clit. Through the latex barrier, he could still feel the fresh gush of moisture flood her channel and felt her muscles tighten around him even more. Then her back bowed, and she came apart on a low moan, taking him with her. He filled the latex with jet after jet of cum, and when he thought he was done, couldn’t give more, the tremors in her womb rocked through him and pulled one final spurt from his drained body.
They stayed connected, her arms wrapped around him and her cunt holding him even as he softened. Then finally, and far, far too soon, he slipped out of her, and she kissed him again and stood. She grabbed a tissue from the box on the floor and then kneeled again, gently removing and folding the condom in the tissue and wiping his cock clean. When she was done, she gave his softened cock a quick kiss, stood, and wandered to the kitchen to dispose of the trash.
It was odd. His nebesa loved kisses, touching, and he looked forward to wrapping her in his arms and pushing out all the bad things of the day. When she returned, the suspicion he’d seen earlier was with her. He reached out to her, and, unlike her usual, when she’d eagerly reach out and accept his touch, she did nothing other than look at the offered hand. After a moment, he lowered it and a deep sense of foreboding swept over him.
Naked, arms at her sides, her face still flushed and her breaths still heavy from their lovemaking, she’d never seemed more distant.
“I can’t do this anymore. Not if you can’t give me something.”
He’d known it was coming eventually, but it was still a blow, much more painful than a punch to the head. She stood expectantly, and he could see the sincerity in her eyes, the hope underneath. There was still a chance. If he opened up, she’d take him in with open arms. The selfish part of him wanted to, was willing to do anything to keep her with him, but reason prevailed. He wouldn’t put her in danger, even if it meant cutting out his heart.
Silent, he grabbed and put on his pants and shoes, tossed on his shirt. Julie looked surprised, but understanding soon bloomed in her gaze. She made no attempt to cover herself, but he could see her emotional retreat.
She followed as he walked across the apartment, giving it one last look. The place was still small, not nearly good enough for her, but he’d had some of the best moments of his life, his only taste of true love, here. He’d miss it.
When he reached the door, he slid the chains, turned the locks. He held the handle for a moment before he turned to her.
“My name is D’yavol,” he said.
And then he left.
Chapter Six
Three Saturdays later, a firm admonishment in her mind that she would have fun and not let thoughts of him ruin her night, Julie found herself at Nurse Wilson’s house for the spades league. It was a well-attended affair, with at least fifteen tables set up and occupied throughout the house, old-school soul music blaring, drinks flowing, and the constant teasing and shouts that were so part of the game flaring up frequently. She and Shayla had been quite the team, running through four others with relative ease the first two hours they’d been there.
“Who got next?” Shayla screamed. “Not that it matters,” she said even louder. “Ya’ll didn’t come to play!”
Carlos, one of the male nurses, sat in the chair across next to Shayla, and his friend Albert, one of the X-ray techs, sat next to Julie. Carlos eyed Shayla, almost salivating, and said, “We definitely came to play, Dr. Rodgers.”
“Well cut ’em then,” she said as she slammed the deck of cards in the middle of the table, completely ignoring Carlos’s innuendo. It was game time, and Shayla did not lose.
Julie giggled and looked over at Albert, who seemed equally amused at the display.
“You’ll protect me, right?” he said to her with a brilliant smile.
“I’ll see what I can do,” she said, returning his smile with one she hoped was equally brilliant.
Albert had worked at the hospital for a little over a year, but they had only talked briefly in passing. The other ladies at the hospital seemed impressed. Even in scrubs, he was impeccably groomed, the rich brown skin of his face a smooth covering over his chiseled features and equally chiseled body. His goatee even looked nice, and Julie generally detested facial hair.
“Let’s run ’em, J!” Shayla said as she dealt the cards.
Julie flashed another smile at Albert and felt warm at his returned wink.
The game was hard fought, much closer than the others, but she and Shayla came out victorious, probably less of a feat since Carlos had spent more time flirting with Shayla than paying attention to the game. Shay got her flirts in as well, but she managed to keep at least some of her focus on the cards.
“Carlos, it seems only fair losers get drinks.”
Carlos smiled like a Cheshire cat. “Of course, Dr. Rodgers, but I think you and your partner need to give the table a break, let somebody else win.”
“I won’t ‘let’ anyone do anything”— she looked over at Julie, who nodded—“but if you want to have a drink while I explain everything you did wrong in the game, I’d love to.”
“Who could turn down an offer like that?” he said as they both stood and left the table.
“So it looks like you’re stuck with me,” Albert said, his deep voice pleasing.
“Looks that way. I could use a drink, too,” she said.
Holding her hand, Albert led her through the crowded party, and after getting drinks, a beer for himself and a diet cola for her, he found them a couple of empty seats in a secluded corner of the porch.
After a few moments of silence, he asked, “So, why don’t I see you around more, Nurse Julie?”
“If you’re looking for a Nurse Julie, you might not see one for a long time. I’m a custodian.”
She waited for some reaction, acutely aware of the hospital hierarchy, but there was none, a huge point in his favor.
“And you probably couldn’t see me anyway through all the nurses and patients hitting on you.” He laughed, a pleasant enough sound. “I try to be nice to my coworkers. Some more than others,” he said as he looked into her eyes.
“You trying to be nice to me?” she asked, giving in to full-on flirting.
“I’m trying to figure out if you’re worth it.”
Julie barely suppressed a groan and eye roll, but she continued, “Results so far?”
“Oh yeah, you’re worth it.”
She smiled, though his words took some of the fun out of it. D’yavol had always thought she was worth—No, she wouldn’t go there. She was having fun with a man outside, in the company of other people. She would not compare him with someone who wouldn’t be seen with her in the light of day and had only told her his name three week
s ago. She was going to have D’yavol-free fun tonight.
Mantra in her head, she talked to Albert throughout the party and even played a couple of hands with him when she couldn’t detach Shayla from Carlos’s side. As the evening was winding down, Albert asked if he could escort her home. She found Shayla getting cozy with Carlos, and after a quick conversation in which Shayla proved that she was not drunk and was okay to drive home—hers or Carlos’s she didn’t specify—Julie agreed.
As they drove, the pleasant conversation continued, though Julie was nervous about taking him to her neighborhood. For no reason, it turned out.
“Wow, my grandmother lives about two blocks from here. I come over every Sunday for dinner. Small world,” he said.
“It’s sweet that you spend that much time with your grandmother.” And Julie meant it. Devotion to family was something she found deeply attractive.
“No doubt,” he said. “After everything she and my mom did for me, it’s the least I can do. And my grandmama throw down in the kitchen.”
They both laughed, the sound filling the car as his pulled to a stop in front of her building. Suddenly, she was nervous. She hadn’t considered how to handle the potential for a kiss and was weighing scenarios when Albert leaned over and hugged her.
“I had a good time, Julie. Maybe I could take you out some time?”
It was exactly the outcome she’d wanted, a great low-pressure invitation from a guy who she’d had fun with. She was officially certifiable.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said as she leaned over and hugged him again. “I did have fun, though. See you around,” she called as she got out of the car.
He nodded and waited for her to enter the building, further proof that he was a good guy. Too good for her to mess with while she figured out what was going on with her mystery man. She’d been sorely tempted, the normality that Albert offered an appealing respite from the unnormality of her and D’yavol. But tempting as it was, she wouldn’t play games.