Red Tide

by Tymber Dalton

  Mitch stopped about ten feet away. Now surrounded by a grimy puddle of water, the acrid smell of melted plastic and burnt rubber filled the air. Dismay threatened to cloud her mind, and she forced it back. In the state she was in, she knew she would cry if she thought too much about how hard she’d worked to buy the Bronco, her very first vehicle, and how her dad and Ed shopped for it with her, helped her pick it out—

  “Mitch?” Ed’s quiet voice at her shoulder startled her. She didn’t turn, just stared at the ruined Bronco.

  “Do you remember when I bought it? You and Daddy went with me.” Her voice sounded soft and full of sadness.

  He rested his hand on her shoulder. “Yes.” He nodded. “You were so proud of yourself, and Ray and I were so proud of you.”

  She leaned back against him, reaching for his hands. He encircled her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder.

  “He did this, didn’t he.” It was a statement, not a question.

  “We don’t know that, Mitch.”

  “No, we don’t. But he did. There used to be a spare set of keys to the Bronco in a drawer in the kitchen of the Tampa house. I didn’t think to get them the other night.”

  He sighed, wishing he could wipe the day’s events out of her mind. He turned her to face him. “Let’s go back to my place. I’ll fix you a nice, hot bath, a good dinner, and a really strong drink. How’s that sound?”

  She smiled weakly. “Okay.”

  “Okay, then.” He opened the door of his truck for her and watched as she stiffly climbed into the passenger seat. Ed didn’t know if it Pete realized how badly Mitch felt, but the dog gingerly climbed in beside her, lying down on the seat, and resting his head on her leg.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Sam assigned three deputies to guard Mitch. Ed drove her first to her own house and helped her pack a bag and load Margarita into her small travel cage, then back to his own house.

  He lived on the north side of Aripeka. His stilt house perched on a small plot of cypress-studded, rocky land on the west side of 595, just off a right-angle turn in the road. To the west, it overlooked the expanse of saw grass that separated his small spit of property from the open waters of the Gulf. To the east lay a thick jungle of cypress wetlands where otters, gators, and the rare black bear and bald eagle resided. The house was built five years before the No-Name storm of ’93, but had been engineered in anticipation of higher FEMA flood standards. It towered twenty feet above the ground. The house itself was large, three bedrooms, two baths, a huge living room and den, with the master bedroom overlooking the Gulf. The white vinyl siding and seafoam green shutters gave the place a Florida Keys-ey look.

  It was home, and he loved it.

  He noticed her movements were even slower than before, probably a combination of pain, trauma, and painkillers. He steadied her going up the stairs and drew her a bath in his whirlpool tub, then left her to her own devices.

  Ed trudged into the kitchen and started mixing her a weak rum and Coke when the shakes hit. The plastic tumbler fell from his hand, luckily spilling into the sink. He gripped the edge of the counter with white-knuckled fists and waited for the tremors to stop. The adrenaline high he surfed since the blast left him wasted and wanting to scream and cry at the same time.

  He shook his head and remixed her drink, testing to make sure it wasn’t too strong for her to have with the medicine. It was just right, the rum barely detectable. He carried her drink into his bedroom and knocked on the bathroom door.

  “How you doing?” Pete, on the floor next to the bathroom door, looked up at him and wagged his tail.

  Ed heard water splash inside.

  “I’m okay, I guess. I’m almost done. I look like a prune.”

  He chuckled. “That’s a sight I wouldn’t mind seeing,” he joked.

  “Well come on in, then.”

  He paused, not knowing whether he should take her up on the offer or not considering her condition. It amazed him that only a few hours before they discussed advancing their relationship, but he never imagined something like this so soon.

  “Uh, Mitch, you sure?”

  “I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”

  He took a deep breath and opened the door. Her eyes were closed, and she partially floated in the deep tub.

  He sat down on the edge and handed her the drink. “Here you go,” he said softly.

  She felt rather than looked for the tumbler. Their fingers touched as her hand wrapped around it, and she left them there, stroking the back of his hand.

  “Thank you.” She looked up at him, her eyes barely cracked open. “I want to finish that talk we started this morning.”

  He didn’t look away from her. That was the struggle of his life. In the time it took him to make the two strides from the doorway to the edge of the tub he’d taken in every inch of her body. The water made her hair look dark brown, and it stuck to her shoulders and molded to her head, framing her pretty, albeit tired face.

  In marked contrast to her deep tan, pale tan lines proved she didn’t sunbathe topless. Her firm breasts and taut nipples were highlighted by sparkling drops of water, her long legs inviting even though they were closed, the right one sensuously bent at the knee and resting against the other. She was beautiful, and he wanted her.

  “I told you we’d do this however you wanted to,” he said. He knew if he stayed in there with her much longer he wouldn’t be able to control himself no matter how much he cared about her. “But you’re going to have to put on a robe or something because I am only human, you know.” He smiled, trying to make a joke of it while forcing himself to ignore his cock’s urgent throbbing.

  “I won’t need a robe.” She took a sip of the drink and set it on the side of the tub. Then she sat up and took his hand in hers, bringing it to her cheek as she nuzzled it. Her eyes never left his. “I learned two things today.”

  He reached over and brushed her bangs away from her eyes. “What’s that?”

  “Life is short, and I need to quit being afraid to take risks.”

  “You went through a lot today, Mitch. Are you sure this isn’t just the stress and everything?”

  She shook her head. “No. This is something I’ve wanted to do for a long time, but I was too scared.” She stood up, pulling him with her. She stepped out of the tub and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her body against him as their lips met. Her nipples hardened as the cool air hit them.

  He felt dampness from her body seeping through his clothes as his hands roamed her back, caressing her, holding her. He quit worrying if she could feel his cock or not as she slowly wiggled her hips against him, making his bulge even harder.

  There was no way she could miss that.

  He kissed her gently, savoring the taste of her lips, the hint of the rum and Coke, the smell of his shampoo that she’d used.

  Mitch drew back and reached for the top button on his shirt, her hands fumbling for an almost imperceptible moment. Her fingers grew increasingly agile with each one until his shirt hung open. She pulled it free from his waistband and slipped her arms around him, her damp flesh cool against his flushed skin.

  Ed’s heart pounded in his chest. He reached down and nibbled her ear, not realizing they had slipped into a slow, steady swaying rhythm matching the beat of the jazz station playing on the stereo. She slipped the shirt off his shoulders and let it drop to the tile floor.

  With her assistance, he quickly shed the rest of his clothes, and they once again danced in place, quietly rocking together, savoring this first moment. His urgency passed with the realization she wanted him as much as he did her, but his cock rigidly proclaimed his emotions as it rubbed against her thigh. He let his hands skim down her sides to the sweet, firm, rounded curves of her ass.

  Mitch softly moaned into his mouth as he pulled her tightly against him. Her lips parted under his, welcoming his kiss.

  After a few minutes, she pulled away and stepped back into the tub. Ed needed no
encouragement to follow her. He sat first, then reached up to her, drawing her close. They nestled together, nibbling, exploring each other’s faces with their lips, letting the moment slowly grow. He cupped her breasts in his hands, rubbing his thumbs over her nipples, turning them into taut peaks again. She buried her face against his neck, his arms holding her tightly against him, her breath hot against his skin.

  When he let his hands trail lower, down her belly and between her thighs, her legs parted for him. She moaned against his neck as his fingers parted her outer lips and stroked her clit. As she responded, he slipped a finger inside her, slowly stroked, her hips rocking in time with his motions.

  After a few minutes she pulled free and turned. Her hands slowly explored his body, making him gasp when they brushed the insides of his thighs. One cupped his balls, the other wrapped around his stiff cock. His shaft twitched in her hand as she slowly stroked him.

  He nipped at her earlobe. “You keep that up, I won’t be able to hold back,” he whispered into her ear. “Why don’t we go into the bedroom?” She nodded, and they left the steamy bathroom. Ed took a large, soft towel and carefully dried her, kissing each part of her body as he went. He watched her eyes flutter closed.

  “That’s wonderful,” she sighed.

  The bedroom faced west over the saw grass flats. The windows were open, allowing the late-summer sea breeze to cool them. Ed pulled the covers off the bed and they lay down, the crisp sheets and soft mattress obviously feeling good against her black-and-blue skin from the noises she made as she settled in. She nestled against him, his arm curled protectively around her. She closed her eyes and he enjoyed the wonderful mix of her particular scent, the vague hint of her cologne, the bath soap, the musky scent of her passion, all striving to freeze the moment in his mind.

  Ed softly, gently stroked his fingers against her skin, bringing quiet sighs of pleasure from her. Her hand drifted down between his legs and slowly stroked his cock, which immediately stiffened. By turning his head slightly, he could watch her face and her closed eyes. The minutes passed and her strokes grew fainter and fainter, her breathing deep and steady.

  Then a soft snore escaped her, confirming what he suspected, that the painkillers, rum and Coke, and hot bath combined with the day’s events had put her to sleep.

  Ed struggled to stifle his amused chuckles even though he couldn’t ignore the throbbing ache between his legs where her hand now limply rested. The bed felt soft, the breeze refreshing, and although it wasn’t exactly how he would have imagined their first encounter, it wasn’t a bad one even if it did leave him a little frustrated. He let his head fall back against the pillow and closed his eyes as he relished the feel of her warm skin against his.

  The sun dipped lower in the sky, painting the bedroom walls a bright orange as it descended below the ceiling of steely grey clouds still hovering over the Gulf. Crickets began their evening song, and out in the living room, Ed heard Margarita cry, “Mommy-bird! Mommy-bird!” Ed willed the bird to shut up and held his breath as Mitch muttered something in her sleep and shifted her position slightly, but didn’t wake up.

  Three hours after they went to bed, the sun finally sank below the horizon. Ed suppressed an amused laugh when Mitch’s eyes flew open and she struggled to remember where she was and how she got there. The disorientation was brief. She relaxed against his shoulder and closed her eyes again.

  “Oh, no. I’m so sorry. I guess I fell asleep.”

  He chuckled and kissed the top of her head. His urgency had passed in the first hour, after he dozed for a while. But he still wanted her. “It’s okay, hon. You were tired.”

  She snuggled closer against him. He felt his desire return with a vengeance when his stomach suddenly decided to announce its need, gurgling loudly in the quiet of the darkened room.

  They both laughed and he hugged her tightly to him. “Oh, Mitch. I love you. And as horny as I am, it’s hard to make love on an empty stomach.”

  She paused, stifling her giggles. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to hear those words.”

  “What? That I’m hungry, horny, or hopelessly in love?” He cocked his eyebrow at her and that did it. She collapsed against him, giggling.

  A sudden wetness against his shoulder made him look down. He saw the tears slipping from her eyes. He wrapped his arms around her and held her while she sobbed. The stress of day finally spilled out of her, and ten minutes later he handed her a couple of tissues out of a box on the nightstand.

  She sat up, still sniffling, and blew her nose. “Thanks.”

  Ed propped himself up on one elbow. “What do you say I go out to the kitchen and make us something to eat, and we turn on the TV in here and chow down under the covers? I’ll close the windows, turn up the AC, and we’ll cuddle.”

  She started to protest, offered to help, then surrendered with a smile. “You win.”

  “How does an omelet sound?”

  Her own stomach grumbled at the thought of food. “Wonderful!”

  * * * *

  He got up and slipped on a pair of shorts—sans underwear, she noticed—and kissed her before heading to the kitchen.

  Mitch swung her legs over the side of the bed. Waves of pain assaulted her battered muscles and she involuntarily groaned. It took her a minute to get to her feet. She stiffly moved around the room and pulled on one of Ed’s T-shirts. She found the TV remote and slowly stretched before climbing back into bed.

  She was disappointed with herself, unable to believe that she actually fell asleep on Ed. Not a reflection of his skills by any means, but slightly embarrassing nevertheless. The network sitcoms failed to hold her interest and she finally turned on CNN.

  “Mitch? Dinner’s ready.”

  She started, then looked up at Ed’s beaming face. He carried a tray with their dinners and she realized that she’d dozed off again.

  “How long did I sleep?” she asked.

  He handed her the tray and sat down beside her. “Oh, only a couple of minutes. This time,” he added with a playful grin.

  “I’m so sorry—”

  “Hey,” he cut her off, “you had a helluva day. You’re lucky you’re even alive.” He took her hand and kissed it. “I’m lucky you’re alive. I’m surprised you were even in the mood.”

  She grinned. “Wait’ll I get some food in me and see what happens.”

  “You’ll fall asleep on a full stomach?” Laughing, he ducked the pillow she tossed at him.

  * * * *

  The simple dinner tasted delicious. When she shifted position in bed, she involuntarily groaned.

  “You okay, hon?” he asked.

  “Just really stiff.”

  He cleared the dishes. “Lie down and I’ll give you a back rub.”

  “That sounds wonderful.” It took her a moment to change positions, and even though she now did want to fall asleep, the heat from his hands set her desire ablaze again. Ten minutes into it, she rolled over and sat up.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  Mitch smiled. “Not a thing.” She leaned in, covering his mouth with hers. His lips felt warm and tender on hers, and she savored the feel of her fingers sliding through his hair. This was what she’d wanted, dreamed about, for years.

  Ignoring her aching muscles, she pushed Ed down to the bed and straddled his legs. His rigid cock, unrestrained by briefs, tented the fabric of his shorts. She teased him through the fabric, using her fingernails to trace every ridge. Then she hooked her fingers in the waistband and pulled them down and off his hips. She sat up so he could kick his legs free of them, and she tossed them off the bed.

  Mitch let out a sigh. “Perfect.” She leaned in and engulfed the head with her lips, her pussy clenching and growing wet at the sound of his moan. He grabbed two fistfuls of her hair.

  “More, baby. Please.”

  With one hand, she grabbed the base of his cock, slowly pumping it with her hand as she teased him with her tongue.

  His back arche
d and he let out a soft groan. She resisted his efforts to take him in deeper. Instead, she cupped his sac with her other hand. His musky scent filled her nose as drops of salty pre-cum rewarded her efforts.

  “That’s it,” he whispered.

  His husky tone spurred her on, and she slid her mouth farther down his rigid shaft. His cock felt hard, hot, like silky steel between her lips and in her hand. His balls drew up tight in her other hand as his shaft stiffened even more.

  “I’m gonna come, baby!”

  She went deep, swallowing, fisting his shaft faster and harder until she felt his juices explode in her mouth. Only after she knew he was completely spent did she release him. He softly stroked her hair while she nestled her cheek on his stomach and waited for him to recover.

  “How was that?” she softly asked.

  He let out a laugh she knew all too well. “You really have to ask?”

  She tipped her head back to look up at him, still uncertain. “Just making sure.”

  Carefully, he slipped out from under her and rolled her onto her back. He pushed the shirt open and bent his head to her left breast. She closed her eyes and moaned at the feel of his warm mouth teasing her. Every flick of his tongue sent more pulses of need straight to her pussy, which clenched in time with his ministrations.

  He resisted her attempts to hurry him and teased her nipples with his lips, back and forth, until she shook with passion. She felt her juices flowing, her labia and clit slick with them. When he finally moved and settled between her legs, her fingers entwined in his hair.

  “You’re so wet, baby,” he murmured, his breath brushing against her swollen clit and making her moan again. He flicked his tongue against her nub, making her moan.

  “Please!” she begged.

  “I’ve waited a long time for this,” he hoarsely said. “I’m not rushing.” He buried his face between her legs, his tongue exploring every inch of her slit, his nose brushing against her clit in a deliciously teasing way.

  She lost track of time. The first explosion rolled out of her, and she grabbed at the sheets as it felt like a supernova had gone off inside her. No one, not even the skilled John Tyne, had ever made her come like that.