by Claire Adams
"Daddy! Vivienne!" she cried.
Tears welled in his eyes as he looked at his little girl, and a surge of emotion crashed through me. I fought back the urge to tear up myself. He rushed over to her and picked her up carefully, cradling her in his arms.
"Hey, my little sweet pea," he said, his voice choked with emotion. "How are you feeling? Daddy has missed you so much, so very, very much."
"I'm still not feeling good, Daddy. I'm real hot. But then sometimes I'm real cold, too. My head hurts. And my tummy hurts. My tummy hurts real bad. I don't want to eat because it makes my tummy hurt more."
"I'm so sorry, my little angel," he said hoarsely. "But you're gonna feel better really soon, alright? I promise you that. The doctors are working hard to make sure you feel better."
"I don't like staying here, Daddy. I want to go home."
"I'm sorry, sweet pea, but you can't. You have to stay here because otherwise, the doctors can't make you better."
"But ... can't the doctors come to our house? Can't I stay there, and they come see me?" her little voice trembled.
"I'm sorry, sweet pea, but you have to stay here. The doctors can't come to our house."
We sat and talked with Jane for another half hour or so until a doctor came in.
"We're going to give her some sedatives now," he said gently. "She needs a lot of rest. This should help her rest for the entire night."
"Alright," Everett sighed. “I’ll just wait here until she falls asleep.”
He kissed her on the forehead and squeezed Jane’s hand.
Thirty minutes later, she was sleeping peacefully.
"I'm so sorry, Everett," I said. "It must hurt terribly to see her like that."
"Like no one would believe," he said. "But at least she's getting better. I just pray that the speed of her recovery gets a little faster. I don't want her here by herself for a moment longer than she needs to be."
"I understand, and I hope that she gets out soon, too."
"Let's go," he said with a sigh. "I don't know about you, but I'm pretty damn tired. Let's just get some takeout and veg out in front of the TV for a while."
"We can do that."
***
We were curled up together on the sofa, watching the final credits of The Big Lebowski roll. Both of us had laughed a lot during the movie, and it had certainly helped us each to get our minds off the things that were worrying us.
"Thanks for a nice evening," I said to Everett, cuddling to him.
He kissed me softly and hugged me closer.
"Thank you for being there for me. I'm glad you're here."
I looked up to find a deep, intense passion smoldering behind his stare, and a stirring bubbled inside me. Everything in me wanted him. By the way he was looking back at me, he was feeling it, too. Our lips met and parted, and soon a voracious hunger took over. After unbuttoning and opening my blouse as we kissed, he slipped his strong hands deftly under my shirt, reaching for my breasts. I reached behind my back with eager fingers and unclipped my bra, allowing him access, and then I dropped my shirt from my shoulders.
With my breasts free, he cupped each once gently in his sizeable hands and started massaging them, rubbing his thumbs gently over my nipples, which soon began to stiffen and swell with joyous arousal.
I, meanwhile, unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off of him as his tongue continued to dance with eager enthusiasm in my mouth. I traced my fingers flirtatiously over his hulking muscles, experiencing each ridge and peak and valley of his hard, granite-like physique with my fingertips. At my light, teasing touch, he shuddered with pleasure and increased the pressure with which he was caressing my breasts.
My nipples were now swollen with arousal, full and stiff with pleasure. I began to move my hand down, tracing the contours of his abdomen. As I reached the top of his jeans, I started to unbutton them.
He pulled his mouth away from mine and began nuzzling my neck and throat, teasing me with sharp little nips and gently pressing his teeth against my flesh. His breathing was heavy, and I could almost hear his heart hammering in his chest. I knew that when I unleashed his manhood, it would be fully aroused and ready for action.
With fingers moving slowly with a teasing eagerness, I unzipped his jeans and positioned myself for what I wanted to do next. Then, with one swift yank, I pulled them down around his knees. His cock sprang eagerly out, directed skyward with the swollen intensity of arousal. I wrapped my fingers appreciatively around its substantial girth and began rubbing my hand up and down its equally generous length.
He shuddered and gasped with pleasure. His hands slid from my breasts and caressed down my sides as his mouth left trails of heated kisses in their wake until he was swiftly unbuttoning my jeans. Pushing them down my thighs, he began to kiss and nibble, moving closer and closer to my center which was growing wet and swollen with hungry excitement beneath his touch.
He slid my panties down, exposing me completely. A ravenous hunger for him exploded in me, and I was beginning to lose every ounce of self-control I possessed. I wanted him so badly, so madly at that moment, my blood was near boiling, and my heart pounded with the furious thumping of a jackhammer inside my chest. He began to edge his eager mouth toward the meeting of my thighs, but instead, I stopped him.
"No," I whispered.
"You don't want to do this?" he asked, confused.
"It's not that," I purred, "it's that I want you – no, I need you – inside me, right now. I can't wait any longer."
He kissed me deeply, penetrating my mouth with his hot, keen tongue, and scooped me up in his arms. He swiftly made his way to the bedroom and gently laid me down on the bed as he positioned himself on top of me. I parted my legs to allow him access and helped guide his steel-hard cock into me, inch by glorious inch until it filled me. We both let out long, intense gasps of pleasure as he filled me and began thrusting, slowly at first, but increasing the tempo and pressure with every successive stroke. He slipped his hands through mine, and we held hands tightly as our love-making became more and more intense.
With every powerful thrust, a wave of bliss ripped through me, pulsing and shooting from my center to every part of my being. I could feel an orgasm building with force inside me.
Everett moaned and shuddered with pleasure, sweat glistening on his hard muscles as he began to thrust with an almost animalistic fervor, stoking the fires of my orgasm. Every stroke was coming fast and hard, and each one blasted an even more intense wave of pleasure through me than the previous one. My orgasm was imminent, and with unbridled intensity, it surged through every cell of my body. I cried out with pleasure as it ripped through me, sending sheer bliss through every inch of me, and making me feel so closely connected to Everett that it was if I had become part of him.
He slowed his rhythm and allowed me to catch my breath, but remained inside me.
"Holy hell, that felt so good. That was so intense..." I mumbled between breaths.
He grinned, sweat glistening on his handsome face.
"I hope you're ready for more," he said. "Because I'm far from done. In fact, I'm only just getting started..."
And then, still tingling from the waves of the first orgasm, he began to thrust again, and I soon felt the stirrings of yet another one coming on.
Chapter Twenty
Everett
I woke up with Vivienne sleeping peacefully in my arms and realized that it had been a very, very long time since I had woken up like this. I had slept peacefully through the night, having been able to quit worrying, even if only temporarily, about both Jane and the saga at school. I leaned over, trying not to wake her, and looked at my clock; it was seven in the morning, far later than I usually stayed in bed. Still, there was no doubt I needed a bit of a sleep-in after all the stress of everything that had happened, and everything that was still going on. It was still rather early, so I tried to be quiet.
Despite how careful I'd been in moving, Vivienne started to stir. She opened her eyes a
nd smiled, and then leaned in and squeezed me tightly. I hugged her back, and we simply lay like that for a while, with the morning sunlight coming in bright golden shafts through the gaps in the drapes.
Eventually, we disengaged, and I smiled at her when her eyes finally fluttered open.
"Morning, beautiful," I said. "How'd you sleep?"
"Outstanding," she muttered lazily.
"That was quite a night."
"Yes, it was," she replied with a flirty grin. "I haven't had a night like that in... maybe ever."
"I haven't either; I really needed it."
"I'd venture to say that makes two of us," she said.
“Give me a minute to call the hospital and see how Jane is doing, then I’ll be right back. After a quick call and an assurance from the nurses that Jane was doing okay and still asleep, I turned my attention back to the woman in my bed.
"Let's throw on some music," I said. "I always like to listen to music in the morning."
"Sure thing."
I went over to my CD collection, which I browsed through for a while. I grinned as I spotted a record that I thought would be ideal.
"Hey, I'm gonna play a song for you," I said to her, smiling cheekily.
"Alright," she replied, smiling curiously.
I took the CD out of its case and popped it into the stereo, and then skipped to the track I wanted. I hit “play” and started nodding my head as the opening guitar riff started coming out of the speakers.
"Recognize it?" I asked as Alice Cooper's “Poison” started playing.
"Yeah... I know it very well," she said, and a strange look came over her face – a look I hadn't been expecting at all. It was like a kind of veiled sadness. It seemed, for whatever reason, that this song was bringing back some bad memories.
"I can change it if you don't like it," I said cautiously. "I just thought that everyone liked this song."
"No, no, it's a great song," she said. "It's just that it reminds me of my dad."
"Oh, I see," I said. "I'm sorry, I didn't…"
"No, how could you have known? No, look, let's listen to this and enjoy it. It brings back good memories of him, and I'm really lucky to have had such a great dad."
"How uh, how long has he been gone?" I asked, sitting down on the bed next to her and wrapping a sympathetic arm around her.
"It's been around four years now. He had an aneurysm; it was quick and painless for him, thankfully. I didn't have to see him suffer or slowly deteriorate and waste away or anything so I guess I should be grateful for that."
"I suppose out of all the ways, that's a pretty good way to go, as long as it doesn't happen when you're young."
"He was 67 when it happened."
"It's a decent age," I remarked. "Many don't make it that far."
"Yeah. Well, he was my only parent growing up. My mom died in a car accident when I was two, so I don't remember her at all."
"And he never remarried?" I asked.
"No, never. Stayed single for the rest of his life. He truly loved my mother; said no other woman could possibly take her place."
"He sounds like a really great guy," I remarked.
"Believe me, he was. And all this 70’s and 80’s rock and metal stuff, that was totally his thing. I grew up with that music playing in the house all the time."
I chuckled. "There are definitely worse soundtracks to grow up with."
She laughed, and it was good to see a smile on her face.
"There sure are. You know, he was an exceptionally talented guitarist."
"Was he, huh?"
"Oh, he was, believe me. We had a room in the house that was his, well I guess these days they'd call it a 'man cave.' But yeah, he had this big Marshall stack amplifier in there, a Gibson Les Paul, and a huge rack of effects pedals. He would sometimes sit in there for hours on end, just playing. And he could play all of the well-known guitar solos note for note, seriously."
"Wow. I was gonna say that I can play a little, but that's just strumming chords. It'd take me years to learn to play even a simple solo. Did he play in a band?"
"He did when he was young, but after my mom died and he had to take care of me by himself, he just didn't have the time for it anymore."
"You know, I was raised by a single parent too," I said.
"Really?"
"Yeah, except in my case, it was by my mom."
"And did you have any siblings?" she asked.
"A younger brother and a younger sister. You?"
"No, I'm an only child. So, what happened to your dad, if you don't mind me asking?"
I felt a ripple of darkness rush through me as I thought about him.
"He was a deadbeat. A drunk. He used to beat my mom up a lot. He would get wasted and disappear for days. One day, when I was eight, he got really trashed and, as he always did, he got in his car and drove off. And that was the last we ever saw of him."
I watched a veil of shock consume her beautiful face.
"Oh, my... That's awful," she remarked and hugged me tightly. "It must have been difficult for you."
"To be honest, it was a relief for us kids. He used to smack us around, too, and with him gone, there was no more screaming and fighting and breaking things. His leaving hit my mother hard, though; for all his abuse, I think she really loved the guy. She fell into a bit of a funk after he left, and as young as I was, I had to step up and be the man of the house. I had to grow up quickly; I was taking care of my mother and my younger siblings. I got my first job when I was nine – mowing neighbor's lawns and washing their cars after school. It also motivated me to work really hard in school, because somehow, even at such a young age, I knew I would need to get good grades to get into a decent career, in case I would need to just go on supporting my mom indefinitely. I've been working hard since then."
"Well, motivated a very admirable trait."
I smiled. "Thank you. I appreciate that."
"And how's your mom now?"
"Oh, she recovered after a few years, so I did get to have a somewhat normal high school life. But I was already set in my ways by then. She met a much nicer guy and eventually remarried. But I had already gone off to college by the time that happened."
I considered telling her about my career in the Navy right after finishing college – but I decided to save that for another time.
"Well, I'm happy to hear that things worked out in the end," she said.
"I am, too. And what's more, I'm really happy that all the choices I've made have led me right to this moment ... Right here, right now."
I kissed her slowly, deeply, and passionately, and we were both left gasping for breath and buzzing with pleasure at the end of it.
"Yep, I definitely picked the right neighborhood when I decided to move in across the street from you," I remarked with a smile.
"And I'm very, very happy that you did," she said. "Best neighbor I've ever had!" she teased.
"Well, I do go above and beyond when it comes to, how shall I say... neighborly courtesy?"
"Well, in that case, I'm glad the rest of our neighbors are either married or old enough to be your mother," she added with a laugh.
"Speaking of, do you think nosy Mrs. Dobbins knows about you and me?" I asked playfully.
Vivienne laughed. "I'd be very surprised if she didn't. You know, she actually hinted at setting you and me up when she first told me about the 'handsome young man' who had just moved in across the street. I can't help wonder if she was working in a little magic somehow. Look how we've ended up!"
I chuckled. "If she is doing some sort of voodoo over there, let her keep doing it because I'm really enjoying these results."
"She's always been like that, you know," remarked Vivienne. "Well, ever since I've lived there. She's very inquisitive. Always has to have her nose in everyone's business. She watches these streets like a hawk, you know. I guess she doesn't have much in the way of family. Granted, it can be a little invasive sometimes, but really, I feel kinda sorr
y for her. She's not a bad person by any means; she's actually really nice. I think it's just the fact that she's lonely that drives her to poke around in everyone else's business."
As she said this, a flash of inspiration flickered in my mind.
"Hey... if she really is out there watching everything that happens like a hawk, she may have seen Simon if he's been snooping around your place. I should go and have a few words with her. Do you have any pictures of him I could take and show her?"
"Well, I wouldn't want to let her in on, you know, information about my past relationships and ex-boyfriends and stuff like that..."
"No, no, I don't have to tell her anything like that. I could even say that he's like, a pedophile who was snooping around my school, and just warn her to contact me if she sees him around here."
"Yeah, I guess that could work. I'll find a clear picture of him that you can show her."
She got her phone and started browsing through it.
"Hmm, well this is difficult. He's made all of his social media accounts private. Obviously, I blocked him from all contact a long time ago, including social media, so I'm not sure how to go about finding a picture of him."
"You don't have any friends who are still connected to him?"
"Hmm. Actually, I just reconnected with an old high school friend who I bumped into here in Irvine. She didn't know anything about what happened between Simon and me. Maybe she'll be connected with him on social media."
"It's worth a shot, I guess."
"I'll call her now."
She searched for a contact on her phone and made the call.
"Hi, Angie," she said, and then proceeded to ask her friend if she could help us out. She seemed willing to, saying that she was friends with Simon on Facebook, and a few minutes later, she sent Vivienne a recent picture of him, which she then forwarded to my phone.
Vivienne recoiled at the sight of his face and handed me the phone so that I could take a look. I had to admit that I was curious as to how this guy looked. Usually, we think of psychos and stalkers and other such criminals as being ugly, creepy-looking people. This guy looked nothing like you'd imagine such a person to look. He was pretty good-looking, as much as I hated to admit it. Well-built and broad-shouldered with short, stylishly cut blond hair, a strong, square, cleanly-shaven jaw, and the kind of blue eyes my sister used to say would make a woman swoon. He had that look like he was probably the captain of his high school football team. I didn't like him already.