The Stagers

  “How about a soda instead? A bit of caffeine will give you a boost.” She only nodded and continued to right her clothes. He handed her a glass of cola and gave one to Lyle while he finished dressing.

  Van noted the feelings starting to creep forward, one’s that would tell Farrin to stay the night, and pushed them back.

  “I’m heading out, Principle!” Lyle said.

  “I’m ready, too,” Farrin quickly added. She paused and leaned up to kiss his cheek and all but ran from his house. He decided the embarrassment factor had gotten to her. Following them both outside, he waited until their vehicles started and left his driveway.

  Back inside, he stripped off his clothes as he walked through the house. Van knew better than to hesitate and dove in the pool, knowing the cool evening air would chill him. He swam laps until he couldn’t breathe, the whole time reinforcing that women weren’t permanent. They were for mutual companionship and lust. Any other thoughts would get him in trouble, deep trouble. The kind of permanent trouble he didn’t want to experience again.

  * * * *

  Farrin refused to let the men see her discomfort as she slid behind the wheel of her truck. She was thankful it was only a short distance to drive, trying to hold her weight off the seat. While she figured she should be embarrassed, she wasn’t. When she thought she should feel like a tramp, she only experienced lust. Lust led to need. Finally home, she examined her body in the full mirror on the back of her bathroom door. While the water came to heat, she examined the color and texture of her buttocks. She was wet again, wanting more.

  “Be careful, girlfriend. This could get habit forming.” Stepping under the hot spray, she wondered where her mind and morals went. But once asked, she admitted all three of them had sanctioned and enjoyed the evening’s events. At her age, she decided it was about time she found lust and sex and enjoyment all rolled into one neat package or two, technically. While she thought she would be wide awake the whole night, once she snuggled down on the crisp, cool sheets, she dropped to sleep quickly.

  Chapter Eleven

  The following week was hell for Farrin. She made a full attempt to work the week even with the spring cold she caught. By Wednesday, she was a mess and stayed home. Sleep was elusive and her symptoms reached their awful heights. Thursday, she was starting to feel better. She knew she was a sight, her nose red, her eyes puffy, and her voice only a squeak. She wandered aimlessly around her condo. Even the beautiful day didn’t heighten her sprits.

  Too much time for self-reflection brought back all the bad memories she’d tried to leave behind. Since her move to Florida, she’d been able to look forward. This week, without work to keep her mind occupied, she kept remembering all the old hurts.

  At four in the afternoon, her doorbell rang. She cursed under her breath, not wanting to be bothered. Glancing through the peep hole, she was aghast to find Van standing there. Panic set in first, and she tried to pull it back. There was no use running for cover or trying to primp. Instead, she pulled her blue chenille robe closer around her body and opened her door.

  “Hi,” she managed, her voice still squeaky.

  “Hi,” he said, walking past her without being invited and went straight to her kitchen. He carried a paper bag that wafted a heavenly scent past her. “I’m not staying,” he continued, unpacking the bag. He loosened the top on a plastic container of something and put it in her microwave. Then he stuck several bottles of ginger ale in her fridge. Lastly, he put a pint of vanilla ice cream in her freezer.

  Farrin pulled tissues from her robe pocket to cover her sneezes, each of which he blessed her for.

  “You look like hell. Sound it, too. I’m figuring you feel worse.” He glanced at her from head to toe and smiled. “I’ve seen you look better,” he teased.

  “Shoot me now,” she quipped, turning away to sneeze again.

  “You’ll be better in a few days. If not, we’ll shoot you then.” He laughed and moved toward her.

  “Don’t,” she yelled, almost in a panic. “I’ll get you sick, too.”

  “I never get sick.” He took a step forward and hugged her tight to his body. “Besides, if I do, you’ll have to come take care of me.”

  “Okay,” she said with a sigh, stifling a yawn. Van released her and stepped behind her. He gently tugged the robe from her shoulders. “Van,”

  “Relax. I’m not here for lascivious activities.” Instead, he used his strong fingers to massage the muscles in her neck and shoulders.

  “That’s wonderful,” she admitted.

  “Good, go lay down,” he prompted and followed her to the bedroom. Farrin didn’t like people to see her home when it wasn’t tidy. Today, it was anything but. Her bed was a mass of tangled sheets and tossed tissues. The bed stand held bottles of every kind of cold medicine available.

  “It’s such a mess,” she said but relented and crawled onto the bed, not caring.

  “You’ll clean it up when you feel better.” His statement was flat. “Now…” He pulled the robe further off her shoulders, revealing her naked back. His hands went back to her neck and shoulders. He was strong but not hurtful.

  “Lyle told you I was sick?” she asked.

  “Yeah, he told me because he wouldn’t come to check on you.” Van paused. “You do realize he’s a complete hypochondriac, don’t you?”

  “I don’t think it ever came up.” Her voice was drowsy to her own ear, Van’s massage relaxing her.

  “That’s because none of us was sick. I bet the first time you sneezed on Monday, he went running for the disinfectant.” His laugh was kind.

  “He did keep his distance. When I showed up Tuesday, he threatened to send me home in a taxi.” She tried to laugh but wound up coughing.

  “Let’s just say he’s not a good patient. It’s in all our best interests to keep him healthy.”

  “I’ll remember that,” she managed.

  “You go to sleep. There’s soup in the microwave for later. I’ll let myself out.” She felt the bed dip beside her as he leaned down and kissed her forehead. “You don’t have much of a fever. Just sleep, Farrin. You’ll feel better tomorrow.”

  “Thanks, Van.”

  “You’re welcome. See you next week.”

  She stayed on the bed and listened to him shut the front door after him. Sleep came quickly, and it was after nine that night when she woke, starving. The chicken soup he’d left for her was a miracle, easing the ache in her stomach. Farrin spent the rest of the night curled up on her sofa, watching old movies, and sipping ginger ale. After midnight, she texted Van and thanked him for the groceries. He texted back she should be asleep, but if she wasn’t, there was an old Cary Grant and Katharine Hepburn comedy on, along with the channel. She watched the movie, one she’d seen many times, replacing Cary’s face with Van’s and Katharine’s with hers. Farrin decided it was the cold medicine that made her fantasize but didn’t care.

  With a congested breath, she reinforced aloud, “He will never be permanent. Our relationship isn’t permanent.” Over and over she said the words, making herself believe them.

  As she dozed before the flickering screen, she reinforced to herself that she was a competent, intelligent woman. She was capable of taking care of herself and would continue to do so. She’d enjoy the relationship with Van and Lyle but understood something like that wouldn’t last forever. “But a gal can dream,” she whispered, pulling the blanket tighter to her shoulders. Closing her eyes brought visions of Van fucking her from behind, her ass cheeks red from his hand, her pussy hotter and wetter than she’d ever known.

  * * * *

  Saturday, she was feeling much better. By Sunday, she ventured out for groceries and cleaned her apartment. Monday, she was back at work, germ free, which she teased Lyle about.

  Even with work to do, she couldn’t forget how Van had been with her. He was a hard act to follow in many ways. It was prominent in her mind that he was only temporary as he’d told her in the beginning.


  * * * *

  The condo staging went as expected even though Farrin thought it was an overused and outdated plan. She smiled and nodded to Lynda at the walkthrough but made sure she was across the room when she arrived, therefore staying out of the perfume zone. Once that was done, she headed back to the warehouse, debating about the next job she’d been assigned. It was a small bungalow that needed a lot of help, with a smaller budget.

  Chapter Twelve

  The bungalow was further away from home than their normal jobs, but the drive along the coast road on a sunny afternoon wasn’t bad. The navigation system in her truck brought her to the doorway of their next project. Farrin stifled back a groan when she saw the property. The outside had been left to seed. What once might have been a small, manicured lawn was now a mass of dead flowers, vines, and dirt. No green peeked from the whole site. The house was vinyl sided. At least that could be power washed without a hassle.

  Key in hand, she paused to wipe away the cobwebs from the front door landing before turning the key. Inside was worse than the outside. Dust mites circulated through the air, light from the dirty windows highlighting them. She took a quick tour of the place and moved back to the living-dining space. The old home had potential, but not on the budget her client proposed.

  Wandering around a second time, she took copious notes on her handheld device. Glancing through the front window, she saw Van arrive. He, too, left his truck and stood looking at the old place. She watched him shake his head and walk the path toward the front door, now propped wide open to air out the moldy smell.

  “Hi,” she greeted him from what was left of the kitchen area.

  He was preoccupied with inspecting the space. “Hi.”

  She started to bristle, and she remembered she didn’t have the right. “I’m going to venture to the backyard,” she said, assuming he’d heard her. When she finally went outside, the fresh air was exhilarating. So was her instant visual of what the space could look like. The yard was huge, overgrown, but larger than she’d expected. It was a quiet place. She could actually hear birds chirping and the light wind fluttering tree leaves. In the far corner, she followed a dilapidated path and was rewarded with a slice of the ocean.

  Farrin knew the Florida Keys were all different, but she never imagined finding a location like this. The property was pie shaped, the point being the front yard. The beach front was magnificent, the neighbors’ well-established homes, yards, and piers all well-delineated and hidden with tall, manicured hedges. She figured they’d be thrilled if the house sold and someone would keep it up. That in itself would raise their property values. She sat on the sandy beach, just watching the horizon and the water.

  “It’s a beautiful place, as long as you don’t look behind you.”

  She became startled from the quiet and smiled as Van sat beside her. “I never expected to find this kind of backyard. The view is stunning.”

  “It’s quiet and private,” Van replied.

  “The place has potential, Van.”

  “You sound wistful, Farrin. What is it?”

  “Silly thoughts,” she told him, standing and brushing the sand off her butt. She stood beside him, but he didn’t touch her.

  “Tell me,” he prompted.

  “It’s just…the place has so much potential.” She turned to walk back to the house, and Van grabbed her wrist lightly. His gaze met hers, and she let out an exasperated breath. “All right, I could live here.” There, she’d said the words aloud. “Obviously not like this, but I can see it in my mind, what the house could be, how the yard could be landscaped. It could be beautiful again.”

  “You’ll make it beautiful enough to find it a new owner.”

  “Yes, I guess I will. With your help and Lyle’s.” She shook off the immediate want to own the home and land. “Come on, let’s see if the structure has any redeeming qualities.”

  Hours later, with her list and Van’s repair list, they wandered to their vehicles. “I’ll tell Lyle to talk to you directly about this. I don’t think we’ll have any budget left after you make the necessary repairs to bring it to code.”

  “I’ll crunch numbers tonight.” He hesitated. “Farrin, what is it about this place?”

  “I’m not sure really, just that I felt peaceful here. Calm. Not like when we’re in Miami with all the traffic and noise.”

  “Would you really live here?”

  “Yes, I could, but I won’t. I’ve a career to rebuild, and this far out, the compute would be a deterrent. Someday, when it’s right, I’ll find another place.”

  “Are you interested in dinner?” he asked.

  “Yes, but not until I’ve had a shower.”

  “Why don’t we head back? You go home and clean up, and I’ll swing by and pick you up.” She hesitated, and he glanced at her. “What?”

  “Well, truthfully, I’d rather you swing by with takeout, and we could watch the game on tonight. It’s preseason baseball…”

  “It will save me from taping it. See you around seven. Any druthers on your supper?”

  “Anything but sushi.” She opened her truck door and turned the ignition, flipping the air conditioning on high. “I have beer and wine at the house.”

  “Good, see you later.”

  She noted he waited until she was belted in her truck and moving away before pulling out after her. Her pussy clenched at the idea of spending time alone with him. While they hadn’t said anything specific, she knew she’d be receptive to any ideas he might initiate. And she might just be the one to suggest a few things to him. The rest of the drive home was lost in thought of what might be.

  * * * *

  He was incredibly relaxed in her home. They shared the Chinese food he’d brought and discussed the game rationally, since they were cheering on opposite teams.

  “If your team wins…” She hesitated and didn’t continue.

  “If my team wins, what do I get?” He gave her his half smile, the one she recognized as horny, and she swallowed hard.

  “If your team wins, you get one act of sex, anything you want.”

  “And the same for your team winning?” He gave her a wide grin rubbing his hands together. “I figure I win either way!”

  Two hours later, Farrin lay on the mangled sheets of her bed, her body in a total sweat and sated like never before. The connection they found tonight was different than any she’d ever known.

  By the seventh inning, it was apparent her team would lose. She drew a breath and moved beside him on the sofa. “I admit it, my team is losing. What and how would you like it?”

  “Your bed, naked, now.”

  She didn’t need persuading. Instead, she headed to her bedroom, stripping her clothes as she went, leaving a trail of garments from the living room to the bed. She tossed off the decorative pillows and pulled back the comforter, sliding across the cool, crisp sheets. Pausing, she pulled out several condoms from the nightstand and tossed the packages within reach. When he came in the room, she watched as he tugged off his T-shirt.

  Standing beside the bed, he paused to unzip his shorts. That was when she reached forward, capturing his hard cock in her hand. She stroked him a few times before rolling onto her belly at the edge of the mattress, using her lips and her hands. His cock surged harder, and she settled to suck him.

  Farrin loved his anatomy. He was strong and solid, and his cock was always ready for her. She continued to suck him deep down her throat, her hands holding him by the hips, directing his body where she wanted it. He leaned over her, his hands roaming her bare skin, occasionally pinching her buttocks. She lavished his erection with her tongue, lapping up the droplets of pre-cum her actions created. She intended to finish him there, to swallow his load and see what developed. Van had a different idea.

  “Roll over, Farrin, to the center of the bed.” She did as told with a slight pout on her lips. Van lay beside her, his hand and mouth doing amazing things to her body. He started by kissing her and worked his way down, pausi
ng to suckle her nipples while his hands roamed lower.

  “Oh, yes,” she uttered when he slipped first one then a second finger in her moist pussy. With his mouth to her nipple, the pull went directly to her womb. She came with a groan as he pushed a third finger inside her. She’d never felt so full. “Fuck me, Van. Make me come from your cock.”

  “Is that what you really want?”

  “God, yes. Fuck my pussy until I come.” Words had no meaning from that second, only looks and kisses counted. He’d entered her calmly, taking the top in a missionary position. Their joining was slow and relaxed, her hips rising to meet his thrusts. She’d tighten her inner muscles each time he entered her.

  “Damn it, Farrin, keep that up and I’ll come.”

  “Then come for me, Van.” He hesitated and started at the beginning, his lips to hers as he pushed in and pulled from her body. His hands roamed her skin, rolling her nipple between his fingers. His slow, methodical seduction was bringing her to a point of no return.

  “Van, please, fuck me. Fuck my pussy so I won’t ever forget.” She glanced at the smirk on his lips and allowed him to draw her arms high over her head. He anchored them with his own hands, their fingers interlaced. Each thrust had them holding onto each other, their hands absorbing the pounding of his body into her. The intense connection she felt with Van would frighten her if she didn’t keep reminding herself this was temporary.

  With minimal hip movements, he brought her to an orgasm so intense, she went limp under him. His body shuddered above her as he finally let himself come. He didn’t let go of her hands, still high over her head. His mouth captured a nipple and bit lightly. Their bodies were covered in a thin layer of sweat even though the air conditioning was on.

  “Damn, Farrin. I had all these wonderful ideas of taking you from behind over the side of the bed.” He finally relinquished his hold and rolled to her side.

  “I’m sorry. Do you want to try again? I’ll see if I can do it right this time.” She held back her laughter for several seconds before letting her smile widen.