Discovering Stella

by K. M. Golland

  “Here, I’ll show you.”

  Gently, I took hold of her wrist and bent toward it, keeping my eyes fixed on hers the entire time. My tongue slowly darted out of my mouth and licked the salt from her wrist, taking a little longer than what was necessary. She stiffened and blushed before flinching and trying to tug her wrist free, but I held it tight and communicated with my eyes that she was fine and that I wouldn’t hurt her. Seconds passed and her resolve melted away, fascination replacing it as I continued to trail my tongue across her skin. Damn, she smelled good, and if it weren’t for the salt attacking my tastebuds, I had no doubt she’d taste even better.

  Downing my shot, I chased it with a lime wedge and waited for her response.

  Stella cleared her throat, placed her arm on her lap, but didn’t wipe it against anything — always a good sign.

  “Your turn,” I offered, raising my wrist audaciously.

  She stared at it as if contemplating its reality, her indecision over whether or not to accept my offer obvious with the biting of her lower lip.

  “Are you a princess or not?” I taunted further.

  Aware that I was treading a bloody fine line, I held my breath, awaiting a response that could go either way. Yes, the mild bully tactics could backfire. Hell, they’d already backfired in epic proportions when we first met. The thing was, they could also succeed in breaking down her wall. And fuck the stars, I wanted that wall demolished.

  Huffing with annoyance, and what I observed to be triumphant satisfaction, she grabbed my wrist and trailed her tongue across it, delicately collecting the salt granules. The warm, wet feeling of her mouth spoke directly to my dick. It said, ‘You think this feels good? Wait until you feel it up and down your shaft and swirling around your throbbing head.’ Fuck. I groaned quietly and shifted just slightly in my seat.

  Stella sensed my change of demeanour and quickly pulled away, tipping her shot and popping the lime between her lips. She sucked delicately, making a delicious sound that added to my crazed state. It also resulted in some of the juice trailing down her chin and landing on her chest.

  Without even thinking, I leaned forward and licked it off. She gasped and her chest rose, prompting me to stare wantonly at her beautiful tits. The outline of her peaked nipples suddenly appeared through the material of her dress, begging me to acknowledge them with either my lips or fingertips.

  I gritted my teeth, hesitant, and quickly flicked my eyes to hers, gauging her disposition, looking for a sign of whether or not to seize the fucking opportunity and show her just how good I could make her feel.

  Stella’s caramel-coloured irises flared and deepened, almost to chocolate, and her plump, fuckable lips nervously slid across one another. I wanted to taste them, suck the bottom one into my mouth before gently nibbling on it. Her lips were bloody perfect.

  Desperately needing to do just that, I slowly made my way toward them, dragging my mouth up her neck and breathing in the scent of her perfume. Fucked if I knew what type it was, I wouldn’t know floral from shit. But, whatever it was, it was my new favourite smell.

  Stella swallowed heavily as I paused to savour her, the beating of her pulse thumping erratically against my forehead. “Lawson, I ... I ...” She panted, pausing when my lips barely grazed hers.

  The vinyl of the loveseat cried out when she gripped it tightly with her long nails, nails I now wanted digging into the skin of my arse as I drove into her relentlessly.

  “I’m sorry. I can’t,” she whispered, placing her hands on my chest and gently pushing me back.

  I closed my eyes and sighed. I really shouldn’t be disappointed. I’ve only known her for a week. And during those seven days, I’ve seen and learned more about her than I have most women in several weeks ... months, even. “You can’t or you don’t want to, Princess?” I asked playfully, trying to soothe the now uncomfortable mood.

  She smiled apologetically yet displayed a hint of mischievousness. “Both,” she answered, standing up beside me, the hem of her dress level with my head. “I’m not ready to make you a prince just yet. I kinda like you as a toad.” Stella then turned and headed for the back door. “Lawson,” she said, as she swung it open.

  My gaze met hers, causing me to swallow deeply before answering. “Yeah?”

  “Thank you for tonight. I really needed it.”

  * * *

  Lying in bed after clearing up the tequila shots, the scent of Stella’s skin and the sound of her breath catching when I’d trailed my lips up her neck were still vivid in my mind. I couldn’t get her out of my head. Never had a chick had such an effect on me. Shit!

  I laced my fingers together, placed them behind my head and stared up at the ceiling. There was movement in my boxer shorts when my cock twitched as visions of the two times I saw her near-naked flittered across my mind. Her skin was perfectly smooth, golden and, as far as I could tell, without tan lines. God, the thought of her sunbathing in the nude made my cock twitch more. Yeah, all right. Fuck, I get it. I want you to touch that skin as well. Wait your fuckin’ turn.

  Releasing one of my hands from behind my head, I pushed my boxer shorts down, letting my cock spring free. I clasped it and closed my eyes, sucking in a breath and tilting my head upward, pretending that it was Stella’s hand wrapped around me and not mine. It wasn’t easy, but as a teenager, I’d had years of perfecting this falsified art form, and just like riding a bike, it only took a few moments before I was on top of it.

  A vision of her kneeling between my legs, her eyes hungry for pleasure as she slid her hand along my hot skin, provided the perfect smokescreen for the reality surrounding me.

  “Your cock is amazing!” she purred.

  I smiled to myself and continued the charade. Carry on.

  Stella moaned greedily. “Lawson, your cock is fucking huge. The biggest I’ve ever seen.”

  “The biggest, huh?” I murmured, bucking my hips and pushing my cock further into my hand.

  “Yes. I want to see if it fits into my mouth. It might be too big,” she responded with a small pout.

  Fuck!The thought of those perfect pouty lips wrapping around me drew pre-cum from the eye of my cock, allowing me to swirl it around my head and lubricate my shaft, increasing the pumping action of my cupped hand.

  The muscles in my arms tensed, so I pressed my eyelids together even harder and willed my vision of Stella to touch herself.

  “Do you like my breasts?” she asked as she straightened her back and pinched both of her nipples.

  “Yes,” I groaned.

  “Do you want to touch them?” she teased, clenching her pert, round tit while her other hand dropped between her legs.

  Visualising imaginary Stella twitching her clit, my balls drew high into my groin, ready to fucking unleash. It made me pump faster, the muscles in my chest, abdomen and shoulders tensing in anticipation as my cock hardened and the head tingled fucking gloriously.

  “Yes, Lawson!” Stella moaned, as she closed her eyes and plunged her finger deep inside herself.

  Jesus fucking Christ! Picturing her finger-fucking herself was enough to push me over the edge and I came, thick, warm jizz spurting onto my stomach as I shuddered and throbbed deliriously.

  Seconds passed, which was when I opened my eyes and peered down at my torso to the small, white puddles upon it. Decent load!Admittedly, it had been a while since I’d last fucked a chick — nearly three weeks — and what sat on my stomach was a good indication of that.

  I reached for the tissues beside my bed, quickly wiped myself clean and tossed them in the bin before pulling up my boxer shorts and placing my hands back behind my head.

  Once again staring at the ceiling, I tried to make sense of what was happening, of what a brunette with the sexiest lips and most innocent eyes was doing to my mind. Stella Walker. Stella fucking Walker. What have you done to me?

  F I V E

  Bushwalking for dummies

  It’d been a while since I’d lain in bed of a morning an
d pondered the day ahead. In fact, if I strained my brain long enough, I could not for the life of me remember when this particular situation last occurred.

  The night before was still fresh in my mind. I remembered Lawson pressing his mouth on the crest of my cleavage and trailing it up my neck, only to stop and then brush my lips. My skin still buzzed at the memory, remembering his delicate touch and the warm, wet, delicious glide of his tongue. Shamefully, between my legs was not immune to this recollection as well.

  Lying there, I couldn’t help reflecting on my reaction to his near kiss and, more importantly, what I should do about it. And that’s when I realised what it was that I was actually doing ... thinking about Lawson Drake. What the shit-cake is going on?

  Lawson had woken in me something that had been dormant, something I was not sure I wanted resurrected. Regardless of whether I even wanted to be thinking about him, I couldn’t ignore the step forward I had taken and I couldn’t ignore that he was the one to have helped me take it.

  For the past eighteen months I had felt nothing, existing without existing as the clock ticked time away. I hadn’t cared and part of me still didn’t. Part of me wanted to pretend that my life, up until this point in time, had never happened. I’d also come to realise there was a part of me that desperately wanted to move on and enjoy what life had to offer without forgetting that it could also be cruel. A part of me wanted to believe again — to live.

  And today was as good as any to do just that.

  Kicking the sheets off my bed, I sprang to my feet and prepared for the day ahead. I was about to take a massive leap of faith, and I didn’t want to waste time. I’d already wasted enough as it was.

  * * *

  “Todd, have you got a minute?” I asked, while sheepishly smiling at the two elderly men sitting at the bar.

  Todd was the manager at the local pub and was standing on a stool, refilling the liquor shelves. He looked over his shoulder and smiled. “Hey, Stel. Sure, what’s up?”

  “Can we talk in private?”

  “Yeah, of course.” He placed a bottle of Jim Beam down, stepped off the stool and wiped his hands on a cloth. “Come back here and help me carry these into the storeroom,” he instructed, lifting up the bar counter flap and handing me a large box.

  Considering the box’s size, I prepared for the worst, strangely surprised when I realised it was practically weightless. “What’s in it?” I asked curiously, tossing it into the air just slightly.

  “Coasters.” He winked.

  I nodded, “oh,” then followed him into the storeroom, surveying the disorganised mess before me and noticing numerous opened boxes spread over the floor.

  “Just put it down anywhere,” he advised as he awkwardly stepped over a mop and bucket.

  Pivoting, I looked for a safe spot. “Um ... I would if there were any room.”

  “Yeah, I know. I need an extra pair of hands around here. As you can see, tidying up isn’t a priority at the moment.”

  “Well, it should be. You could find yourself in a spot of shit if the health and safety inspector makes an unannounced visit.”

  He sighed dejectedly. “Trust me, Stel, I know. Problem is, there ain’t a hell of a lot of people around here I can employ. Unless I want to incite some of the locals to come out of retirement, my choices are far and few between.”

  “Really?” I asked, astounded by his statement. “Where are all the youngsters?”

  “Most of them work on the surrounding farms or in Shepparton. There are some around town ... it’s just they are the ones who would succeed more in drinking my stock than selling it.”

  “Ah ...” I nodded my understanding.

  Todd quickly peered out the door and into the bar. “Gerry, you’re in charge for a sec. And no helping yourself to the tap,” he joked, before taking a seat on an empty milk crate and gesturing for me to do the same. “So, what do you want to tell me?”

  Taking a deep breath, I sat down and tapped my hands on my knees. “I want to stay,” I blurted out.

  “Stay?” he asked, tilting his head to the side just a little.

  “Yes, stay here in Pittstown. I don’t want to go back. There’s nothing in Melbourne for me.”

  He leaned forward and surveying me intently. “What about your nursing job?”

  “I don’t want to be a nurse anymore. I’m over it. I need a change.”

  His eyes narrowed and it made me shift in my seat. “Stella, what aren’t you telling me?”

  When Todd and I were younger, he only ever said my name in full and in a low, questioning tone when he meant business. It was the same tone he was using now, so I knew I had to tell him something.

  Standing up, I turned my back to him and started sliding boxes on a shelf to make room for the others. “I don’t want to get into it now. But I will one day, I promise. Just not today, okay? I just ... can’t.” I turned to face him again and swallowed heavily. “What I will tell you, though, is that I’m not going back to Melbourne, to my job. I’m done there. I want a new start and I want it here, with you. You’re the only family I’ve got.”

  “What about your dad and your mum? They still live in Melbourne, don’t they?” Todd stood up and took a step closer, worry saturating his face. “Stella, has anything happened to your parents?”

  “No! No! Dad is consumed with his criminal cases, as per usual. Did you know that he’s on marriage number four now?” I said with mock impressiveness. Todd shook his head at my comment, but wasn’t distracted from the concern he obviously felt.

  Sighing, I sat down on the milk crate and fiddled with the hem of my skirt. “And Mum is ... well ... Mum; self-absorbed and oblivious to the world and those who are in it,” I added, my voice dripping with disdain.

  “You’re running from someone or something, aren’t you? Are you in trouble?”

  “Look, I’m not in trouble. I promise. I just can’t be in Melbourne anymore. Please, if I don’t stay here I will move on to somewhere else. I miss you ... this,” I said, gesturing between us. “So much time has gone by, and we’ve missed so much of each other’s lives. It makes me sad. You’re the only sibling I’ve ever had, and I want that relationship back. You have no idea how much it meant to me. Still means to me.”

  Todd squatted in front of me and took my hands in his. “Hey, it’s not that I don’t want you to stay. Of course I do. I’d love it. I’ve missed you too. I just have a gut feeling that something is wrong. I don’t like it, Stel.”

  Fighting back tears, I surrendered and let them fall. “I’m sorry. I want to tell you, but I can’t. I’m not ready. Just give me time, okay? I promise that when I’m strong enough, I’ll tell you everything.”

  “Stella, you’re worrying me. I hate seeing you like this.” He pulled me in for a hug, which only amplified my need to expel more tears. “I’m here if you need me,” he said, rubbing my back in a soothing motion. “You know that, right?”

  “Yes,” I sniffled, “and I do need you. Just be patient with me. I don’t know how else to deal with this.” Pulling away from him, I wiped my eyes with the sleeve of my cardigan. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to go all crybaby on you. Really, I’m fine ... I will be fine. I just need this ... this time with you ... here, in Pittstown. Please.”

  He wiped a tear from my chin. “Yeah, you haven’t done the whole cry-till-I-get-what-I-want thing in a while.”

  “Well ... don’t get used to it.” I smiled, blotting my eyes. “It was a once-off.”

  Todd stood, turned back around and pushed some boxes with his foot. “So, when can you start?”

  “Start what?” I asked, continuing to dry my eyes.

  “Your new job. I need this room organised, then we can talk about getting you a Responsible Service of Alcohol certificate.”

  I jumped up with excitement. “Really?”

  “Yes, really. You can stay as long as you like, but while you’re here, you work for me.”

  Putting my hand on my hip, I gave him a sly smi
le. “I’ll work with you, not for you.”

  “Stel Bel,” he teased, “don’t push it.”

  “Toddler,” I teased back, “deal with it.”

  He grabbed my arm and pulled me in for another hug. “Come here, you. I’m so glad you tracked me down.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  “Why did we stop keeping in touch?”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “You went overseas on a backpacking adventure of a lifetime. Then,” I said sadly, “I guess life just got in the way.”

  “Yeah, I guess shit happens, doesn’t it?”

  Wriggling free from his grip, I stood at arm’s length. “Yes, it does.”

  Boy, does it ever.

  * * *

  Todd and I ate lunch together at the pub. The Pittstown Hotel was your typical country town establishment: a double storey, nineteenth century building situated at an intersection in the heart of town. The interior consisted of a mahogany-stained wooden bar, fireplace and furniture, which were complemented by a maroon industrial-style carpet that was peppered with scuff marks and cigarette burns. And, like every rural pub in Australia, a lone pool table sat in the middle of the room, the focal point of the area.

  Todd had introduced me to some of the locals and the staff members who were present. Since the hotel was a small establishment, there were only six employees, all of them friendly and welcoming. I hadn’t yet met Shaz, one of the waitresses and bartenders, who Todd compassionately said was a force to be reckoned with, but I couldn’t wait to start working there.

  “Are you sure Meg and Lawson are going to be all right with me staying on?” I asked, pushing my chair in at the table and picking up my empty plate.

  Todd held his hand out, indicating I give the dish over. “Yeah, I don’t see there being a problem. The house is more than large enough. Plus, I think it’s safe to say they both like you.”

  “God ... I hope you’re right.”

  “Since when am I not?” he said with an eyebrow waggle. “So, what’re your plans for the rest of the day?”