Royally Yours

by Amy Brent

  “Ohh,” I moaned low in my throat. It smelled heavenly. I took the first sip and moaned again.

  His gaze was on me, staring intently, watching me as my lips rimmed the ceramic mug.

  “What?” I asked, a little self-conscious.

  “Good?”

  I smiled over my cup. “Very.”

  He looked at me a few more seconds and then walked away. The man was making me nervous. He was constantly on the move. Who did that first thing in the morning? It was as if he couldn’t stand to be near me. If I got too close, he moved away. I must have really freaked him out.

  I watched while he filled a bowl with dry kibble, the dog had been curled up in a corner, but came running the moment he heard the sound. Then, he was grabbing the pot of oatmeal off the stove and scooping it into bowls.

  “Here,” he said handing me on of the bowls.

  I looked at the bowl of plain oatmeal. I didn’t want to be a nuisance, but come on. Plain oatmeal?

  “Sugar?” I asked.

  He reached into a cupboard, handed me a small bag and walked to the table. I carried the bag under my arm, holding my cup of coffee and hot oatmeal bowl in my hands. He was definitely not going to win any hospitality awards.

  “Thanks,” I said, dumping a healthy amount of sugar straight from the bag and into my oatmeal.

  “No problem.”

  We ate in silence. I wasn’t a real fan of oatmeal, but I was hungry, and oatmeal was filling.

  “I’ve got stuff to do,” he grumbled, putting his bowl in the sink and sliding his feet into his boots.

  Without another word, he was dressed and out the door, his dog trailing along behind him.

  I added a little water to both bowls and the pot, doing my best to use a limited amount of water from the jug. Caked on oatmeal was no joke. It would make it easier to cleanup once the power was back. I hoped the man had more water stashed somewhere. With nothing else to do, I crawled back onto the couch, unfolded the blankets and closed my eyes. I wasn’t used to getting up so early, especially after such a restless night.

  The next thing I knew, there was a noise outside that had me bolting up on the couch. I strained my ears, trying to clear my foggy brain at the same time. I couldn’t place the sound. Was it an engine? A lawnmower.

  I rubbed a hand over my face. The cabin door pushed open and Jake’s massive framed filled the doorway. He was sliding his hands over his coat, brushing off snow while stomping his feet. Casper walked in and gave a good shake before heading to the woodstove to settle in.

  “You’re sleeping?” he asked, as if it was the strangest thing in the world for a person to do.

  “Just a little catnap,” I defended, suddenly feeling like a complete sloth.

  “Generator’s on. You can take a shower if you want.”

  “I can?” I asked, not quite believing him. “A hot shower?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Yes, a hot shower. Give it about ten minutes. Then you can take a shower.”

  “Awesome! Thank you!”

  I jumped up and refolded the blankets. I was very excited to get a shower, even if I didn’t have any clothes to put on.

  “Excuse me, Casper,” I said, grabbing my bra and panties.

  I stood to find him staring at the things in my hand. I debated leaving them off. If I got the chance to seduce the man, it would make things a little easier if there were fewer barriers. The man was a bit skittish.

  I headed towards the bathroom but didn’t get far before his voice stopped me in my tracks.

  “I can loan you some sweats or something.”

  I looked down at my leggings. I’d had them on since yesterday and after sweating with exertion during my hike and flooding them with pussy juices last night, they were probably a little ripe.

  “That’d be great. I’ll rinse these and let them dry for tomorrow.”

  “Want a t-shirt?” he asked.

  “Yes, please, and thank you, Jake. I really appreciate you putting me up like this,” I said with sincerity.

  He brushed by me in the hall and walked into his bedroom. I caught a glimpse of a huge log bed that nearly filled the entire space. It figured he would have a big bed for his big body.

  “Here,” he shoved the garments at me.

  “Thanks.”

  “Let the water run for a few. It will be ice-cold until the hot water flows through,” he warned. “You can’t take a long shower. The generator only has so much juice. We may need it later, especially if this storm hangs on much longer.”

  “Okay,” I mumbled and closed the bathroom door behind me.

  I was looking forward to a hot shower and washing away yesterday. I would have to be mindful of the time. I wasn’t known for quick showers, but I didn’t want to be the kind of a house guest that used up all the hot water.

  The bathroom was very chilly. I started the water running, waiting to strip until it started to get warm. The candlelight provided very little light, creating a very intimate atmosphere. I stripped naked and stepped into the shower. The water wasn’t exactly hot, but it was good enough. I couldn’t see much with the curtain closed, but I could make out what looked to be a bottle of shampoo and quickly lathered my hair.

  The water sluiced down my chest, causing goosebumps to pop out all over my flesh. The sensation stirred up last night’s unsatisfied arousal. I was alone and naked. I could take the edge off. I closed my eyes, letting the spray of water run over my face before turning and letting it hit my back. I thought about last night and a fantasy sprang to mind.

  Jake. I had wanted him so badly. I envisioned him bending me over the couch, pounding into me from behind. His violent thrusts moving the couch as he slammed into my body with delicious force. The mere thought of him had me wet and aching. I ran a hand over my breast and played with a nipple before running it down my stomach.

  I needed better access. I stepped forward, turned around and slid down the wall, sitting on the tub floor. My hand moved between my legs, but I wanted to feel that spray of water. I propped my right leg on the side of the tub.

  “Ah,” I gasped as the water hit my aching pussy. I reached down and used my fingers to spread my lips. The hot water was a shock to the system. I jerked with the strong sensation of hot water on my exposed clit. If only there were more water pressure, I lamented.

  My eyes closed as I imagined Jake there, rubbing his fingers over me. I slid one finger in and moaned. I was soft and hot, and oh so wet. I could feel my pussy juices sticky on my finger. I stroked in and out before slowly rubbing over the clit. I opened my legs wider, loving the feeling of being completely wicked.

  With one hand holding my pussy wide, I used my finger on the other hand to tweak my clit. Pinching and rubbing before sliding in as far as I could reach. I was so close to cumming, I knew it would take very little to reach the climax I’d been dying to get. I wanted to draw it out, enjoy the moment a bit longer, but I couldn’t forget about the man just beyond the flimsy shower curtain.

  Thinking about him sent heatwaves over my body.

  “There,” I whispered in the darkness as my finger found the right spot. I moved it faster, applying more pressure. My toes curled and my ass clenched as the orgasm spiraled through my body. “Ahhh,” I moaned, the soft sound echoing around me.

  I bit my lip as it cascaded over me, doing my best not to yell out in pleasure. I slid a second finger inside my hole and jerked with the intensity. I could feel my juices flowing over my hand, the sensation increasing my pleasure. I felt another moan threatening to explode from my chest and quickly used a hand to cover my mouth. I could smell my arousal and started cumming all over again. The water washed away the evidence of my orgasm as quickly as it had come on. I put my leg back inside the tub and took a couple seconds to catch my breath.

  “That was intense,” I whispered. I stayed there, letting the water hit my belly as my muscles unclenched. I wanted to lie there and bask in the afterglow, but I had to move.

  Standing on
legs that were a little shaky, I leaned one hand against the shower wall to steady myself. I took several long deep breaths, calming my racing heart and doing my best to regain my composure. The self-pleasure had taken the edge off, but I was left wanting more. I wanted that fullness that only Jake could give me.

  Quickly rinsing my body, I shut off the water, not wanting to use too much. I was only a little embarrassed by what I had done, but desperate times called for desperate measures. I quickly dried off with a towel from the rack over the toilet and pulled on the long johns he had given me to wear, sans panties. They were a little looser than the leggings, which made me feel a little more comfortable about being seen in the rather revealing pants in the middle of the day.

  I inhaled the scent of the t-shirt, hoping it would smell like him. The only thing I smelled was fabric softener. My pussy was still tingling, and I considered giving myself another climax before leaving the bathroom. I could. I should, I told myself, looking for good excuse to get off.

  Would he know? Would it make him more inclined to fuck me if he knew I was in the bathroom fingering myself? A plan formed in my mind. I used a little more water and rinsed my leggings and panties and hung them over the shower curtain rod to dry. I wanted to remind him I was ready and willing.

  Chapter Eleven

  Jake

  A naked woman in my shower was making me a little crazy. It shouldn’t bother me as much as it did, but it was the dry spell. I could typically contain my lust far better than this. I prided myself on my stellar control. I could make a woman cum several times before I ever released my own orgasm. That control was slipping. Between last night and the memories, on top of a lack of sex for months, I was fucking dying to screw the woman standing in my shower. The image of her heavy breasts and curvy bottom naked and wet was making my blue balls purple.

  “Pull it together, man,” I told myself, rubbing a hand over my face and wiping away the image of a wet, naked Calla. No matter what I did, the vision I had conjured would not go away.

  I had to start thinking about how we were going to make it through the day. The storm outside was only just getting started. Trees would be coming down soon enough and if things continued the way they were going, I would run out of gas for the generator and have no way to get to town. I only had so much water stored.

  “Fuck,” I said, realizing I didn’t have the luxury of fantasizing about Calla or any other woman.

  I was prepared to live without power for a few days, but I didn’t usually need to worry about supporting another person. I was going to have head into my root cellar and pull out some provisions. It was something Gabe had helped me build last year. Up here, it was important you had enough food on hand to last you for weeks, just in case you couldn’t get off the mountain and into town for provisions.

  The root cellar was well-stocked, so I could keep Calla well-fed. I knew the woman was different than most others. She wasn’t going to be satisfied with a little nibble of this or that. She would want something to fill her belly beyond oatmeal or ramen noodles. The idea of cooking for her made me happy.

  “Oh no,” I groaned, when I heard the water shut off.

  Now, she was standing buck naked in my bathroom, using one of my towels to dry off. I imagined her drying between her legs and then gently patting dry her breasts. Then, she would be sliding one of those legs into my long johns. Would she put on her panties? I moaned, thinking about it.

  “Please don’t put on the panties,” I whispered.

  My mind went right back to the vision of her naked. I wanted her walking around the cabin naked, her breasts swaying in time with her hips. An image of her on my table, legs splayed wide and pussy bared had me reaching for my dick and rubbing. The cabin was small, but I had a very active imagination. I could do her so many different ways on every surface of the house. It was a challenge I felt very up for.

  “Fuck,” I groaned. The woman was going to kill me. It was getting hard to think straight when most of my blood was flowing straight to my dick.

  I had to pull it together. Things needed to get done. I grabbed a hair tie off the counter and quickly pulled my hair back. That was my serious face. That was supposed to help me focus on the many tasks that needed doing. It wasn’t working. All I could think about was sex. Sex with Calla.

  When she stepped out of the bathroom, I was standing there staring at her. I felt like an idiot and had been staring at the door, as if I had x-ray vision and could see right through. I couldn’t, but damn I wished I could have.

  “Hi,” she said. “I don’t think I used all the hot water. Are you going to get in?”

  She looked uncomfortable and I knew I had probably freaked her out a bit. I did look a little stalker-ish standing outside the doorway.

  I grunted out something that was supposed to be no, but I knew it was incoherent. My brain was focused on her breasts under the t-shirt. She hadn’t put on the sweater. I could see her breasts swaying and bouncing as she moved towards me. I knew she wasn’t wearing a bra, which made me very curious to know if she had panties on. I could ask. Or I could yank the pants down and check for myself. It was a tempting idea. Too tempting.

  “Okay, well, I’m all done in there. Should I blow out the candle?”

  “No, it’s fine,” I murmured.

  “Suit yourself.”

  She walked past me, giving me an odd look before sitting on the couch next to my dog.

  “Hey, boy,” she said, nuzzling his nose and then kissing him. “You’re such a good boy,” she praised.

  I glared at the dog, then realized I was jealous of a damn dog. This was seriously fucked up. I needed to get my shit together.

  “Where are your socks?” I groused, pointedly looking at her bare feet.

  “Oh, I must have left them in the bathroom. I’m not cold.”

  “Wear socks,” I ordered. “The floors are cold. You have to keep your feet warm.”

  “Fine,” she grumbled, getting off the couch and stomping down the hall. She purposely brushed her shoulder against me as she passed.

  “It’s for your own good,” I told her, trying my best to be nice.

  “I’ve got the damn socks,” she waved them in front of her as she headed back for the couch.

  Saucy, little witch.

  I could definitely fuck her, I told myself. I knew she would let me fuck her. She had practically begged me to do it, but I had a feeling she would end up being a little too clingy. I didn’t want a commitment, and I didn’t have the same excuse I had all those years ago. I couldn’t run away with the Army. She knew right where to find me. I didn’t like that. I didn’t do commitment, relationships, or any of that other shit.

  “I’ve got to take care of some things,” I told her.

  “Like what? Can I help?”

  “No. Thank you.” I added the last bit to lessen the impact of my terse reply.

  “Jake, if I’m going to be crashing here, I would really like to help out. I know this is not how you planned on spending your day, but please, let me help somehow,” she pleaded.

  “There’s nothing for you to do. I’ve got it,” I said, hoping I didn’t sound as abrupt as I had before.

  “Whatever. I’ll just hang out with Mr. Casper.”

  “I won’t be long.”

  She ignored me as I dressed and headed outside. I embraced the cold, using it to cool my fervor. The walls had been closing in on me and I had to get some distance between us. My self-control was slipping.

  “Hey,” she said, stopping me before I got anywhere.

  “What?”

  “I think the dog wants out.”

  She pulled the door open wider and Casper trotted out like he was a king.

  “Thanks.”

  She shut the door, leaving me and my traitorous dog alone on the porch.

  “I figured you’d want to stay inside with her, traitor.”

  He barked and bounded down the steps, head first into the snow. His tracks from our earlier f
oray outside had already been covered. I followed behind him, the snow covering my boots as I went.

  The cellar wasn’t far. Casper must have known where I was going and took off towards the overhang that shielded the root cellar door.

  “You’re not going in, buddy. We’ve talked about this. I don’t want to get stuck lugging your ass up the stairs. Stay put. Keep watch.”

  The dog probably wouldn’t be a great watchdog and was definitely no match for the predators that lived in the mountains around us, but it was nice to have him nearby.

  I carefully walked down the wooden steps into the cellar. I had made it just big enough that I could stand up inside the cellar. There were shelves along two walls and a freezer. It was surrounded with thick insulation sheets to keep it from freezing in the winter, which sounded silly, but it could happen. The freezer would keep things frozen for a good twenty-four hours before I had to run the generator to cool it down again.

  I mentally pictured what I needed from the freezer to keep me from having the lid open too long. I couldn’t let the cold escape, even though it was cold outside, it was about fifty degrees year-round in the cellar.

  I managed to carry my goods up the narrow, steep steps and used my foot to kick the door over the cellar opening. My juggling act was made more difficult by the deep snow. I managed to get through the front door before quickly dropping everything on the kitchen table.

  “Wow, what’s all that?” she asked, staring at the groceries on the table.

  “Food.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I know that, but where did you get it?”

  “Root cellar.”

  “Oh, wow. You really are prepared to stay up here for a long time, aren’t you?”

  I nodded. “Yes, I am. I have to be. You never know when something like this is going to happen.”

  “How long have you lived here?” she questioned.

  I didn’t want to chat. I didn’t want to talk about our lives. I didn’t want her thinking we were going to be friends, lovers or anything in between.

  “A couple years,” I answered, keeping it vague.

  She smiled. “It’s really pretty here. I could see why you would want to live here.”