“I can look at your car later on after we sign the lease,” Warren told me.
Oh, shoot. The lease, I forgot all about that.
“Um... okay. Let me get my purse and pay you.” I was in a hurry now to excuse myself, maybe to go cry into a pillow or possibly jump off a cliff in embarrassment.
“No need. Come up to my house in a few hours. We can look at everything over dinner.” That was a good idea. All curvy girls wanted to eat. But was this a date?
“Great. That will give me time to put things away.” I smiled, holding the door. “Thanks, guys, for your help,” I said loud enough for his employees to hear me. I would have asked them their names, but I was still too embarrassed from the vibrator spill.
They both nodded at me as they walked away, but Warren was still on the porch staring at me.
“Good. I’ll see you at dinner. Keys are on the kitchen counter, and that’s my house there up the hill.” He pointed toward the house where the employees had walked from.
I smiled, but speaking wasn’t possible anymore. Say something, Jaime, I coaxed myself, but nothing came out. I watched him walk away, getting another glimpse of the outline of his ass through his old, paint-splattered jeans. He did some pointing at some things and shook the hands of the guys.
Slowly closing the door, I sat down on the couch waiting for my head to stop spinning and the butterflies to calm down. Dinner at Warren’s house would be interesting. If I wanted to keep this a business relationship, I was going to have to release.
A release was what I called a reliving of tension; something to take my mind off the buildup from the road. Doing that would allow me to keep my emotions in check. The only way to think clearly was not to be horny, and right then, I wasn’t able to order a pizza let alone keep my hands off that handsome man if I had the chance.
I opened a few windows and finding some towels in a suitcase. A few hours was plenty of time to release before I exploded into a raging sex monster all over Warren.
*****
The shower knob was turned to hot and the water was beating directly down onto me as I thought of Warren. Those big muscles covered in grease from my car filled my consciousness. I wished he could have bent me over the hood and taken me right there on the side of the highway.
You’re desperate, Jaime, my conscience told me, and for once it was right, but at that moment, I didn’t care.
Imagining a scene with me and Warren was easy. With one of my legs propped up on the side of the tub and my back against the shower wall, I closed my eyes thinking of his gold-rimmed eyes—those radiant eyes that looked as if he could see straight through me. I rubbed my clit imagining him ripping my clothes off.
The water was one degree from scalding as I rubbed myself like I thought Warren would. I pressed my back against the shower wall, imagining it is was Warren pushing me, that he was pressing down between my thighs, heating my clit like an oven.
His raspy voice was in my ear calling my name. His muscles pressed against my chest as he held me in his brutish arms. I squeezed my eyes closed, trying to keep this mirage of this man alive. My fingers worked feverishly, but my imaginary Warren wanted more. He wanted to be inside me.
Two fingers substituted Warren as I pressed them slowly inside me. My crevice was tight, the fault of too many months of forced celibacy. But my hot fingers feeling inside took my breath away, and fingering my G-spot sent me into an orgasm.
“Warren... Warren.” I called his name as if he were there. My eyes fluttered open as the feeling of the fresh orgasm exploded across my body. My legs almost slipped from under me, and I reached for the shower curtain for something to hold onto. Luckily, I didn’t fall. How would I explain breaking my leg in a shower after I was masturbating to a man I only met today?
This was a mistake. A huge mistake. I turned off the water and tried to regain my composure, but my spasming legs, heaving chest, and the tingling euphoria weren’t going away. I had opened a Pandora’s Box in my mind. Having fake sex with Warren was just as bad as having real sex with him. Now I wanted the real thing, and mixing business with pleasure was never a good idea.
*****
What does one wear to their super-hot landlord’s house? I sifted through my wardrobe, but nothing looked appropriate to wear. I damn sure couldn’t go up there with my body fresh out of the shower, my skin damp and a towel wrapped around me—or could I? I laughed at the thought as I went through the clothes strewn across my bed. Everything that was unpacked was either too tight or too hot.
I probably tried on a dozen different outfits, but nothing seemed to look right. After getting frustrated with my wardrobe choices, I opted for something that was too tight, grabbing a thin, buttoned shirt with blue jean shorts. I felt like a real country girl with those dark denim shorts on. All that was missing were a pair of cowboy boots. I didn’t own any, so I wore flip flops and twisted my hair into a bun.
I didn’t want to look too sexy or desperate around Warren. He was, after all, my landlord, and I needed to maintain some sort of decency. I wished I had a different shirt; one that wasn’t so tight and squeezing on my double Ds like a python to a mouse.
Whoever said Missouri didn’t get humid was a liar. I wasn’t that far removed from the shower, but my skin was now on fire once again, as if there was a personal heater inside me. Maybe it was my anticipation of being in Warren’s presence, but I needed to calm myself down. I reprimanded my reflection in the bathroom mirror.
“Jaime, this is stupid. You will not have sex with Warren. You will keep this a business relationship. You are here for another purpose, and having sex is not it.” I was stern and convincing, trying to keep myself in line. Getting wrapped up into another relationship would only muddle things.
Since leaving my ex, I had sworn off sex entirely. I wouldn’t be engaging in it again until I was married, and some other demands that I couldn’t recall at the moment. I actually wrote them down in a journal like a personal commandment list. After I made that list, it seemed like my life turned upside down, and although sex was usually the one thing that calmed me, I no longer had that as a comfort. Moving here was part of my celibacy journey, I wouldn’t have to be around anyone that would tempt me.
“Damn you for being so sexy,” I cursed, thinking of Warren as I grabbed my house keys and purse, then set off to handle the business of the lease.
Walking up the hill to Warren’s house with the sun dipping down through the trees, I could already feel the serenity of the country. No more smoke and pollution clogging up my senses. No more cell phones ringing with text messages to interrupt me.
I looked around, studying the area as I walked, but maybe I was still paranoid from driving such a long way on my own. As weird as it was, I still felt like someone was watching me.
I dismissed the feelings as I made it to Warren’s house. Ringing his doorbell, I took a deep breath. Please be good, Jaime, my conscience told me, but I didn’t respond. I could make no promises.
****
Warren’s house was rustic, the epitome of a country man’s bachelor pad. The house was equipped with all the fixings, from deer antlers hanging over his fireplace to mismatched furniture pieces in the living room. The couch was a flannel red while an oversized chair across from it was a deep brown leather. I shrugged it off as he offered me a seat.
I wasn’t an interior designer, and I was going to make this my first and last time in his home. I gave him a pass on his decorating style since he didn’t get very many visitors, and men never cared about decorating as much as we women did.
“Make yourself at home. Dinner will be served in a few minutes.” He was all smiles, which was both comforting and strange. I guess that was his country hospitality, but I wasn’t used to sexy guys being this nice to me unless they wanted something.
Tonight, Warren was in a different shirt. A plain grey t-shirt, jeans, and those same scuffed-up work boots. He wasn’t a pretty boy like some of the guys in the city, but what country ma
n was? A city boy would have never pulled over to help me with my car, and they definitely wouldn’t have gotten dirty for me.
I sat down in the leather chair. Sitting on the couch left an opportunity for Warren to sit next to me, and that wasn’t a good idea considering my horniness.
“Lemonade or iced tea?” he called out to me from the kitchen.
“Um, tea is fine.” Gosh... he was really going to serve me.
A minute or so later, he emerged from the kitchen with a tray and laid it down on the coffee table in front of me.
“Thanks.” I was amazed by all of this.
“Sorry, I don’t really have a kitchen table, so this will have to do.” That was a bachelor for you, but I didn’t care where we ate. Looking up at those eyes made me want to move our dinner to the bedroom, but I thanked him anyway.
I looked down at my food. A chicken breast, broccoli, and some wild grain rice was arranged on the plate as if we were in a nice restaurant.
“Wow, it looks amazing.” My stomach betrayed me, growling loud enough for Warren to hear.
“Go ahead and eat. I know you're starving. I’ll eat later.” He walked away into another room, and I did as I was told. Grabbing the plate, I tried not to wolf it down too fast, but I was starving.
He returned with papers that looked to be the lease. Balancing my plate, I reached into my purse and handed him a white envelope with “rent” written across the front. Our hands touched, just for a second, a spark of electricity passed from me to him. When I was close to him I felt something and I needed to make sure we didn’t touch again.
“Thank you, but you didn’t have to pay the entire year in advance,” he said, taking the money out and counting it.
“I insist. It’s better for me to plan that way.” If the money was in my possession, I would have too many choices, too many ways out, and none of that was any good for me.
“Well, the lease is pretty straight forward. Nothing surprising, and I am responsible for all appliances.” I noticed that as Warren spoke to me, his left leg jumped up and down. He couldn’t sit still either, from the looks of it. What was he nervous about?
I chomped on my food, studying, and listening to him. Everything was pretty self-explanatory, so I felt comfortable diverting my attention to his mouth rather than the words that came out of it. My ears only perked up when he said the word “danger.”
“What? Could you repeat that?”
“Well, we’re very close to the woods, and there are dangerous things out there. So try not to be out back at night.” His face was stern when he said that.
That was fine with me.
He pointed to a few places where I needed to sign and initial. He explained a few things and mentioned some important landmarks as I finished dinner.
Warren looked at my plate and blinked. “Wow, you’re already finished. Do you want more?”
I wanted to scream, “Yes!” Instead, I smiled and shook my head.
“Everything was great, thanks. I think maybe I should get going back home.” This was the best way for me to make an escape. The longer I stayed here talking to him, the more the possibility of something happening between us grew.
“Oh no, not yet. I have some pecan pie from town for dessert, if you want a piece.” His eyes seemed to dance as he grabbed the dinner tray. He looked happy for me to be there. Maybe that was because of the rent money I just paid him. Nevertheless, saying no to pecan pie was a sin in my book.
“Okay, no problem. Who can turn down a good piece?” Oops. That came out wrong. “Of pie, I mean.” Shit... I could feel my face catching fire. I took frantic gulps of the tea to cool myself.
“Yeah, a piece is always needed. Be right back.” His eyes locked with mine for a moment before he walked off back into the kitchen.
His eyes were like caffeine to me. They gave me energy enough to run to the moon.
Being around this man wasn’t healthy for me. Somehow, my nervousness made it hard for me to stand up. I walked over to the mantle over the fireplace to keep calm myself. I studied picture after picture, seeing people who were probably Warren’s family members.
One picture seemed to stand out, a group of eight people in front of a lake. I scanned their faces. They all looked so happy and familiar, in a way.
That’s when I saw her. She was there on the right; a face that I would never forget. Memories came flooding back to me of my grandmother and how much I missed her.
But why was she in a picture in Warren’s house? The questions mounted as tears filled my eyes.
*****
I looked at the picture, remembering the woman third from the right in the line of people smiling at the lake. My grandmother, younger, long hair, thin, but it was definitely her. I felt tears come to my eyes before I could move my lips. It was her smiling next to some people and some man that looked like Warren, but must have been his grandfather.
Almost as if on cue, Warren walked up behind me, intruding on my private moment.
“Oh, that’s my grandfather right there.” Warren pointed to the guy that looked like him—the same man that stood next to my grandmother.
“My grandmother used to bring me here when I was younger.” I pointed to her while trying to keep the tears from falling. I missed her. She had only been gone a few years, but sometimes it felt like she’d died only yesterday.
“Diane was your grandmother?” He knew her—and by her name, too. Speaking at this moment was going to make me cry. He placed the small saucer of pecan pie down on the coffee table and looked closer at the picture that I now had gripped in my hands.
“She lived here, in the house that you're in. I think for a few years, if I remember correctly.”
“What? How? When?” I wiped away tears before they could spill out onto my cheeks.
“Oh, I haven’t seen her since I was younger. Before my grandfather passed away, surely.” He took the picture from my shaking hands as I sat down on his couch.
My grandmother was closer to this town than I thought. She always talked about it, but living here in the same house that I lived in now wasn’t something I had imagined. I never knew she lived here. I thought it was just a town she was fond of.
I couldn’t help it; I cried, letting the tears flow down my face. I missed her so much, and being here with Warren gave me some sense of security that I could let my guard down. If he was the grandson of my grandmother’s friend, then I could surely trust him.
Warren sat down next to me, holding my hands as I sobbed thinking of my grandmother. My mom had been no help in grieving. I was an only child, so there was no sister or brother to confide in. Everything was on me, and right now, I was letting it out.
“Are you okay?” Warren asked, rubbing my back and handing me a tissue. I wasn’t sure how to answer that question. I missed her, and that wouldn’t go away.
But Warren rubbing my back sent a different feeling through me. Him being so close to me actually made things better. Maybe too much better. I should have cried in the leather seat instead of on the couch. At least then I wouldn’t have to feel the intense heat radiating from his body.
“Yes... I guess so. Sorry. I just didn’t expect to see her... here. I miss her so much.”
“I miss my grandfather, too. Sometimes it hurts so badly. And no one seems to understand.”
He was right. That was exactly how it felt for me. I made a mistake looking into his eyes at that moment. It was too much. I was too vulnerable thinking about my grandmother, and his admission about his grandfather made me feel like we had a connection.
“You just have to stay strong. Don’t apologize for showing emotion.” He rubbed my hand gently. His eyes seemed to sparkle and his black hair was sticking up. I rubbed it down into place. For the life of me, I wasn’t sure why I felt okay with touching him so intimately.
Warren also seemed surprised by my affection. His gaze was hypnotic, and I didn’t realize how close his face was to mine until our lips touched.
; Shit... I couldn’t control myself. I let go and let him kiss me, closing my eyes and welcoming his lips on mine. I’d imagined Warren as a gentle kisser. But he pulled me into him as if he was as desperate as I was for affection.
Our tongues danced along one another’s as our hands roamed each other’s bodies. This was all happening too fast for me to stop. His strong arms squeezed me and fondled every part of me. I searched his body with my hands, feeling over his chest and his stomach. Under his shirt was a real six pack. I was feeling actual flesh that was hard as concrete.
His breathing was heavy like a hungry, panting animal as we pulled at each other’s clothes. His hands traveled down through the legs of my shorts. He didn’t take the time to unbutton them.
His fingers slid toward my panties, stealing my breath, and when his fingers touched the lips of my sex, I wanted to scream. A yelp did escape me as Warren bit my lip, the pleasure and pain combined with his finger sliding inside my pussy proving too much for me to stay quiet. His finger seemed to stir an internal fire that would only be extinguished once his cock was deep inside me. I thought back to the shower, thinking of how Warren had already made me cum once today, even if he didn’t know it.
Warren’s finger was joined by another as he pushed in and out of me and his tongue tangled with mine. My heavy breathing mixed with his, and at that moment, I wanted us to become one. I wanted him inside me, not his fingers, but the girth of him that I saw through the imprint in his jeans. I had been craving a man on top of me, and tonight, I would finally get it. To hell with my celibacy or my commandments. I made those rules before I met this man of perfection.
I grabbed at his head, pulling him toward me by the short hairs of his nape until a strange, shrill sound stopped me in my tracks. It was a howl from outside, somewhere in the backyard that felt like it was only a few feet away. I never heard sounds like that in the city, and usually I wouldn’t have cared, but Warren seemed distracted by the noise. I could feel it; the hairs clutched in my grasp stood up.
Howling at the Moon: The Complete Series Page 2