by Carver Pike
His eyes lowered to the floor and Dawn realized his concentration was on the crooked linoleum. It seemed she’d finally met her match. Someone who was as OCD as she.
“Yes, it’s crooked. Sorry about the out of date décor. I’m planning to liven the place up a bit. I moved in the other day so I haven’t had much time.”
“I’ve seen it before,” he said. “I know this house very well.”
She wanted more explanation. How did he know her mother’s house so well? Suddenly she felt cold, like a cool breeze had been let in through an open window. Yet, the windows were closed. Then, she was hot. She found herself shivering one second and fanning herself the next.
What’s happening to me?
“I’m sorry,” he said again.
This guy was full of apologies. That was a total contrast to her ex who’d probably never apologized for anything his whole life.
“I keep saying things that must sound so odd to you,” Anders added. “I’ve been in this house a lot. Out here there aren’t many handymen. Most don’t want to drive so far outside of town. So once she saw how good I was with the tractor and the yard, she asked me to do some random maintenance around the house. I fixed the plumbing and did some electrical work. That’s what I meant.”
She let out a sigh of relief. Why was she so filled with mixed emotions? One second she felt suspicious of the man and the next she wanted to kick his chair over, hike up her dress, and sit on his face.
Wow. Where did that come from?
Her hormones were out of control. His lips, his eyes, his fucking hands. Everything about the man screamed “fuck me.” He was that guy in all the romantic comedies, the one who didn’t look gay like the models in the magazine ads and didn’t look mean like the assholes in the action movies. He had the manly, gentleman charm that almost made Dawn think to herself, “Guys like that don’t fucking exist in real life.”
But apparently they did. One was sitting across from her at the table and each time he held his glass up to his bottom lip, his tongue dashed out to touch the amber liquid first before his lips closed down on the glass and his throat moved with a swallow.
The next time he did it, she squeezed her thighs together and imagined her clit was the glass.
Whoa. It’s so fucking warm in here.
“You’re not married?” she asked, trying to think of something to push this in the right direction.
She needed him. He raised his line of sight up to hers and peered at her over the lifted glass. She thought she saw a smile form at the edges of his mouth.
“No,” he said as he downed the rest of his glass.
She quickly poured him another.
“I’m not either,” she said. “So…what do you guys do for fun around here?”
“Mostly stay indoors,” he said, and she liked the sound of that.
He was definitely flirting with her now.
“What do you do indoors?” she asked.
Where is this bravery coming from? Usually I’m a coward around men.
She decided it was a lack of sex driving her mouth to shoot out questions and phrases before her mind had the chance to suck them back. Her pussy seemed to be controlling her other motor functions and before she knew it, her right hand was under the table, under her dress, feeling for the cleft between her folds. Her panties were wet and her finger stuck slightly to the dampness of the silk. She wore a thong, not her usual choice, but what seemed like a good one given the trampy dress she was wearing.
The thought of Anders having easy access to her thrilled her and she wished she’d chosen a seat closer to his. From across the table he wouldn’t be able to accidentally bump her leg or accidentally touch her knee or accidentally slide his hand up under her dress and dip his fingers into her pussy.
I can’t control the thoughts. I’ve never been like this before. What the fuck kind of whiskey is this?
She turned the bottle to look at the label.
Brimstone Black.
She had thought she’d tried every brand available but this local stuff had a fucking kick and suddenly she couldn’t stop the smile forming on her lips. He still hadn’t answered her question and she wanted a reply.
“So…” she leaded him.
“Indoors we usually read, play games, and make love,” he replied.
Wait a minute. Who’s we?
“You make love?” she asked.
“Yes, it’s one of our favorite pastimes around here,” he said. “Do you like that?”
“Making love?” she asked, nearly spitting out her drink.
Things had gotten heated so quickly. She felt flushed, kind of embarrassed all of a sudden. She was acting like some sort of slut and that wasn’t like her. Hell, she was always the designated driver in college and still played the part whenever she hung out with Daisy.
“Excuse me, I have to use the bathroom.”
She stood and walked away from the table without saying another word.
Upstairs, in the bathroom, she stood in front of the mirror and stared in horror at the redness in her cheeks. The heat from the drink had climbed through her limbs, had wrapped around her bones, and had made its way up into her face. She flicked her hair around until it hung right in front of her tits.
“You can do this,” she assured herself. “Go downstairs, move your chair closer to his, and accidentally brush his leg. That’s all you have to do. You’ve done this sort of thing with Patrick a hundred times. He’s just another Patrick. A super-hot, seriously sexy Patrick, but a man nonetheless.”
When she finally felt able to face him again, she made her way out of the bathroom. She was about to head downstairs when she looked through her bedroom doorway at the window. The curtain rod had fallen and she stared directly at the shadowy face of a man in her window.
She screamed but she couldn’t move.
Watching her through the second floor window were the glowing red eyes of something. Someone. Something. Its features were shrouded in darkness but its eyes…they burned into hers.
She screamed again and as she turned to escape, she ran straight into Anders’ massive chest, her forehead bouncing off it with a thud.
“There! Th…th…there!” she yelled, fumbling her words as she desperately tried to draw his attention to the bedroom window.
“What is it?” he asked.
“The window! Someone’s out there!”
Anders raced to the window. He slid the pane upward and stuck his head out. A cool breeze rushed in and belted her face, instantly drying the tears she hadn’t realized had dampened her cheeks.
“Go on, git!” he yelled.
He saw something. She wasn’t crazy. He turned a crooked smile toward her and raised one eyebrow.
“Possum,” he said. “Ferocious little creatures but harmless for the most part.”
It couldn’t have been a possum. No way. She’d seen glowing red eyes.
“A possum?” she asked.
“We have a lot of ‘em around. Unfortunately the scarecrows don’t do much to keep those pests away. Nothing works better than a shotgun for that.”
He turned the rest of the way around and sat back against the windowsill.
“Really, there’s nothing else out there. It ran off.”
She needed to see for herself so she made her way over to the window and leaned past him. He was right. Nothing was there.
“I imagine it was your scream that sent it scurrying,” he said with a grin.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She felt his hand on her face first and when she opened her eyes, she saw he was brushing her face with the knuckles of his left hand.
“You’re crying,” he said. “I hate to see a woman cry.”
“It kinda freaked me out.”
“You need another drink to calm your nerves.”
“Will you stay with me for a while longer?”
His knuckles stopped rubbing her cheek and she saw out of the corner of her eye that hanging betwe
en his thumb and index finger was the erotic novella she’d left on the sofa arm downstairs. Had he been reading it?
“My book,” she said. “I was um…”
“Reading it?” he asked.
Wise ass.
“Something like that,” she said.
He sat down on her bed and lifted the open book to where she’d dog-eared the page. He glanced at the cover, at the man holding a gun.
“I thought it was an action book until I flipped through the first few pages,” he said.
“It’s action of some sort,” she said, hiding her blushing face in her hand.
He read from the book. “He was fast and strong as he slid her little red dress up her thighs. She was over his knees in record time.”
His voice reading Radcliff’s words was such a fucking turn on. She stepped closer to him. Every bone in her body ached. She’d heard once that fear made sex better and she was ready to find out if it was true.
“One hand held her down and the other tore at her panties,” he continued reading. “Before she could protest, his large, strong hand came down on the cheeks of her ass. Whack!”
He stopped reading and right there in front of her, he reached down, grabbed his cock and moved it over. Dawn could practically feel her mouth water. She wanted it.
“You like this stuff?” he asked.
“It helps when I’m alone,” she admitted.
“And when you’re not?” he asked as he reached and took her pinky finger in his large hand.
He pulled her closer to him and put enough pressure on the finger to lead her down onto his lap. She sat on his knee and looked into his eyes. They were so intense, so strange, so needy. That’s the word she’d been fishing for. Something in his eyes said he craved attention. He wanted something, wanted her she hoped.
Her eyes fell lazily down to his lips where they stayed until his mouth was on hers. His kiss was soft at first, timid even, like he was testing the waters, unsure of whether or not she’d be accepting. She definitely was and the way he pulled back slightly, letting his lips graze hers, his tongue tracing the outline of her mouth, drove her crazy.
His hand reached around to the back of her neck where he fixed a firm grip and twirled it through her hair until it was taut and her head was forced to go wherever his hand led her. That meant back.
Lost in his kiss, she felt faint. He pulled her a foot back, holding her there in midair, caught somewhere between mid-fall and complete rapture. Damn the guy was strong and an expert at seduction. She felt around for his shirt and pulled, accidentally tearing it open a few buttons.
His right hand grabbed the hem of her dress and yanked up the front, pinning it to her shoulder blade, stretching the fabric that was caught between his knee and her ass. With one bra-covered tit hanging out of the dress, the other wrapped up in the cloth, she sighed into his mouth.
She was so fucking wet.
He seemed to like the position he had her in as he reached with his other hand and held the dress at her shoulder so he could release his right hand. Then it was fingertips feeling her up, starting at her ribcage, which sent jolts through her limbs. The light scratch of his nails against her skin tickled. She moaned into his mouth and he kissed her harder.
She lifted her ass up and the dress sprung free, shooting halfway up her stomach. That’s not where he wanted it though and in a second he’d pulled it over her head.
Dawn loved losing control but enjoyed establishing it too, so she grabbed the back of his head, lifted her bra over her right tit, and shoved it into his mouth. The wire rim of the bra hurt at the top of her tit but she was willing to endure some pain if it meant keeping the heat rising. His lips wrapped around her nipple and he sucked her, flicking her nipple with his tongue. He opened and closed his mouth over her tit, working it in his jaws.
I’m going to fuck the rust off this man.
She attacked him, pushing him down onto the bed where she gripped his shirt in both hands and pulled in opposite directions, ripping the rest of the buttons. Even on his back, with gravity in control, his muscular chest was solid and poised for the taking. She lowered her mouth to his nipple this time and ran a circle around it with her tongue.
She slapped an open palm against his other nipple and dove into his mouth, sucking his tongue as she raked her fingernails from his chest down his stomach and to his waist. He howled between her lips, exhaling his breath into her lungs as she fumbled with his belt, finally unfastening it and tearing at his fly.
Anders wriggled left and right until his pants were free from his waist and coming down his thighs. His massive cock surprised her when it fell loose and rubbed against her stomach. He wasn’t wearing any underwear.
My God, is there anything about this man that isn’t scorching fucking hot?
She’d never been with a man who went commando. Patrick wore tighty whities. And Anders…Anders was twice Patrick’s size. He was the alpha male she’d always dreamed of, the hero in every novel she ever read, the hammer swinging thunder god, and his cock was now in her hand. She struggled to get it under control. It had a life of its own as it hardened with her touch, filling her fist, forcing her fingers open around it.
She’d read enough books to know that most of the men had enormous cocks and she usually scoffed at it, knowing her own experience wasn’t nearly as wild or erotic as anything a romance writer could conjure up. That had always left her with a sour taste in her mouth, a disbelief that had always stuck with her through each erotic tall tale.
Anders was no tale. He was all real, all fact, all solid ten inches of him.
His pants now lay on a pile on the floor. He stripped off what remained of his shirt and threw it against the wall. His boots came off at some point in the fray and there he was, in all his glory, Anders the rock solid neighbor. Dawn let go of his dick and sat back on her haunches, gawking at him. His cock stood at full attention. Suddenly a lump grew in her throat. She tried to swallow it down but the knot of nerves refused to be banished so easily.
“Let me see your breasts,” he said, more like a plea than a command.
Your breasts? He’s so proper, even now. Drop the gentleman act and fuck me, you Neanderthal.
He’d requested breasts and she was going to show him. They were her best asset and she was proud to reach back, unclasp her bra, and let it fall to his stomach. One cup landed on the tip of his cock and draped there like an odd looking umbrella on its stand. He looked down at himself and chuckled.
Then he looked back up and smiled. He liked what he saw before him. Dawn stretched out her torso and breathed deep, liking the look of her own tits as they rose and fell, rose and fell, rose and fell. Anders appreciated the gesture too and reached up to hold them, to provide relief for her heavy tits.
The feel of his hard, callused hands tucked beneath her tits was nice and the way his thumbs smoothed over their form, making their way up to her nipples had her watering at the mouth and dampening between her legs.
She looked down at his cock standing straight up and inched forward so the crease in her panties bumped the base of him. She couldn’t feel much, but knowing such a thin barrier protected her clit from the thrashing of his enormous dick made her eager to toss them to the side. He seemed to read her mind as he reached down and pulled her panties to the side, revealing her lips, and the trimmed thatch of hair above it.
“Mmm,” he said.
Then he reached down, cupped her ass in both hands, and pulled her forward a little more so his cock was nestled right at her pussy lips. Not the head. No, just the hardened stem, the solid and pulsating dick itself rested there. She reached down to greet it and pulled it against her clit where she lifted up ever so slightly and sat back down, up and down, wanting so badly to be penetrated but loving the grinding of his flesh on hers.
It was more erotic than anything she’d ever read. Her pussy and his cock were involved in a strange meet and greet that seemed to go on forever and each second made her legs quiver
in anticipation.
Her gaze met his and they locked eyes, staying like that as she lifted up and back down again. She did it a few more times, never letting her stare waiver. She was right there with him and he was with her. They were connected somehow and she’d never felt more right about being with anyone before. Anders was everything she’d wanted for years, everything she needed right now.
Finally, his hands went to her waistband and his fingers slid through the elastic where his hands ran from her sides to the front of her pelvis, his rough hands dragging against the softness below her belly. A moan escaped her lips and her breath stuttered in her chest. With a soft tug, he let her know that he wanted her panties off. She lifted one leg over him so that she kneeled on both knees next to him. She eased them down her thighs.