by Jewell Dean
Liz shivered, one thigh sliding up along those legs, belly sucking in as she tried to push closer. His other hand was big enough to cradle her head, hold her, move her to deepen the kiss.
Someone honked, hooting at them out an open window, and for a moment she would swear she heard him growl, saw him bare his teeth in their direction. Then he was back with her, pulling her back so he could open the door and usher her into the Jeep. “Home. Then the rest."
"I live off Live Oak and Hemlock. 434.” She pulled her seat belt on, shivering as her arm brushed against her chest. “The little blue house on the corner."
"I can find it.” It took no time, especially as he threw her little looks every few moments, just smoldering for her.
He parked beside her baby car, the silence when he killed the engine almost shocking.
They sat there, both of them just looking at the house, at the roses, at the double rocking chair.
"Come inside? I could make coffee."
She'd forgotten how to do this.
"That would be wonderful, honey.” He moved, seemingly in slow motion, coming around to hand her out of the car in another oddly courtly gesture, just like ... well. Not going there.
The grass was soft on her feet, the porch steps creaking as she dug out her keys. “Do you live near here?"
Thank God the house was clean, neat. She had been meticulous once, but had only recently begun to clean again, to care what things looked like. It must just be part of learning to live.
"Closer than you might think.” He took the keys and unlocked the door, following her in. “Do you really want coffee?"
"No.” He put the keys in the bowl by the door and she blinked, shivered and looked away. Go away, Neil. Please. I just want to feel something. Just one more time. “Come into the living room."
Looking around as he followed, he took of his cape, but made no move to remove the black mask, shaped to cover him from the tip of his nose to his forehead. “You like blue."
"It's my favorite color. I always wanted blue eyes when I was a little girl.” She'd only ever dated blue eyed men. She rubbed her upper arms, shivering. “What's your favorite?"
What's your name? Who are you?
"I like red. I always have. Like fire.” They sat together, the couch creaking under their combined weight, the silence a little awkward. Until he touched her, his hand sliding up her arm to rest on her shoulder.
She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, then turned toward him, face lifted for a kiss. His stomach was rock hard under her touch. Ripped.
His thin shirt presented no barrier as she stroked, working up to his chest and back down. He moaned for her, pressed her back a little, the couch cushions poking her back as he pushed his tongue into her mouth, tasting her.
Liz moaned, the flavors and heat enough to short her good sense out, her hand molding around his shoulder, pulling him closer, nails scratching against the soft fabric of his shirt.
His hands worked at her clothes too, pushing the stretchy neck of her blouse down off her shoulders, down her arms.
The elastic scraped against her breasts, her lace demi bra following the path of her blouse. She couldn't help the moan, the gasp as her nipples brushed him.
"Lovely.” His fingers dipped into the neckline, teasing her nipples, first one, then the other. The first touch came soft, sweet. The second stung a little as he pinched, making her tingle.
She arched, hands moving around to touch his back, pet his muscles. “Just like that. Oh. You have good hands."
"I like touching you. I knew I would.” He bent, set his lips to her throat, his tongue leaving a damp trail. “Will I like tasting you as much?"
She let her head fall back, heart beating so hard it made her dizzy. “I ... I hope so."
Oh, classy. Real classy, Lizzie.
"I'm sure I will.” His lips moved on her skin as he spoke, sliding down as he cupped one breast and pushed it up above her bra, closing his lips around the crest.
Her eyes flew open, body arching into the touch as her nerves were reminded what it felt like to be touched. Licked. Kissed. Felt. Pure electricity shot through her, nipple to clit, all created by the pressure of that hungry mouth.
One strong arm held her up, cradling her back, as the other moved down, then up, pushing her skirts with it. His head against her chest looked striking, his hair soft against her skin.
She traced the edge of the mask, then started petting the soft thick hair. Her thighs parted for his hand, the scent of her need sudden, almost embarrassing, but those strong hands didn't seem to mind. They just stroked the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, catching her between the dual pleasures of lips and fingers.
He smiled. She felt it on her skin, just before his teeth closed on her tender, aching nipple, and his fingers pushed under the leg of her panties.
"Oh!” One of her knees raised, sliding until it was trapped between his body and the sofa back. Please. More.
"Mmmhmmm.” Licking, sucking, he drove her higher, the rough pads of his fingers touching her curls, slipping against her as he spread her.
Her toes curled, shoulders lifting up off the cushions, fingers tangling in the thick soft hair. She needed to touch him, but her hands wouldn't move, couldn't. All she could do was feel.
Like he read her mind he pushed up, ripping at the buttons on his shirt, slipping it off. He tugged at her skirt while he was up, too, pulling it down her thighs, pulling at her underwear too. Just staring at her for a moment, he licked his lips. “Oh. You. I. Fuck."
She nodded, thighs moving slowly, her need too big to deny. “Take off your mask? I want to see."
"Not yet.” Catching her hand, he brought it down to his chest instead. When she would have argued, he distracted her with more touches, stroking between her legs, finding her clit and circling it.
"I. Oh,” she gasped, fingers finding his flat nipple, scraping it with her nails. The little bit of flesh went tight and she scratched again, moaning as the touches inside her sped.
"Yeah. Oh, honey.” They moved, together and apart, both of them gasping. He pushed inside her, gently, easing the way with two fingers, his other hand coming down to keep on working her clit, her cunt open and accepting, taking him in as he thrust his fingers in and out. He took a kiss, leaning down, trapping her hand, palm flat against his nipple.
Liz just sobbed, the touch exactly what she needed, what she'd been aching for. She moved, rocking, taking what she needed, pleasure like a flame in her belly.
"Honey. I don't think I can ... I need you. Can I?” His lips moved across her cheek to a spot just under her ear that drover her crazy. His thumb pressed against her, sending shudders through her whole frame.
"Please.” Anything, just don't stop. Don't go. “I need."
"Good. Good.” He gave her a reward in the form of a kiss before doing what she feared. He stopped. But only long enough to tear open his black superfine pants, his cock pushing out, flushed and hard. The he moved close again, tossing her clothes aside and settling between her legs, probing her cunt.
She cried out, the scent of sex and need overwhelming. She reached down, hand cupping one tight asscheek, fingers tracing the smooth skin, pulling them together.
When he pushed into her, his cock stretching her wide, it was like she knew him from the inside out, all the way to her bones. His mouth opened on her throat, his teeth stinging her skin.
"Neil.” Liz moaned, one leg wrapping around the lean hip, their skin sliding and rubbing together. “Yes..."
He just groaned for her, thrusting harder, his hips slapping against hers. They rocked, the couch cushions squeaking, his skin hot, firm, fine. It couldn't last, the heat, the need, the fire between them burned too hot and Liz was lost to it, caught in a web of memories.
A harsh, animal cry sounded against her throat as he thrust into her, his hips jerking as he shot inside her, his hands bruising her hips, he mouth set at her breast.
Her own climax left her shud
dering, soft sobs pouring from her as she relaxed, slumping into the cushions, every nerve alight.
"Oh.” He rested his forehead against hers, nuzzling her cheek. “Belle. I missed you."
She actually began to nod, before she stilled, ice water replacing all the blood in her veins. “What?"
What did he say?
"I said I missed you. It's been so long.” He leaned back, looked at her with those blue eyes that she knew, should have known all along. “I had to wait for just the right time."
"I. But. You.” She shook her head, reaching for the mask. No. No. Her Neil was dead. Wouldn't make her hurt for so long. The mask came off in her hands and it was him. It was. There. On her. In her. No. “I."
Neil.
She pushed at his shoulders, needing up. Away. Something.
"No. Liz. Belle. Honey. Stop, you'll hurt yourself.” No, he was hurting her, his hands like manacles on her wrists.
"You. I thought you were. I...” She couldn't breathe, didn't understand, couldn't stop tugging and fighting. “They said you were."
"I am.” That was it. Flat and final.
No.
No.
She pushed out from under him, landing on her knees on the floor, hands still in his as she tried to pull away. “Let me go. Let me go."
If she started screaming now, she wouldn't stop.
Ever.
"No. You'll run.” He knelt in front of her, so close she could see each individual eyelash. The scar on his lip had thrown her. It was new. “Please, Liz. Belle. Listen to me."
He'd left her. Let her believe he was gone. Let her cry for two years. Her Neil had loved her. He had.
"I couldn't come back until I knew ... until I could see you without. God.” His touch lightened up, his fingers caressing now.
She watched those fingers, tanned and strong and stroking her and ... Oh, God. She was going to be sick. Liz bolted up, yanking away and stumbling toward the kitchen, the sink. The back door.
"Liz!” Neil caught her, lightning fast, catching her wrist. “Please..."
"Who are you?” She was screaming now, as scared as she'd ever been. “Why are you doing this to me?"
"I'm Neil. Belle, honey, I promise. It's me. It's killed me to stay away, but he ... I. I had to.” He was terrifying close up, his eyes so soft, so sad. So earnest. His mouth moved and said all of the words, the pet names, the things no one but Neil could know.
"I can't. I don't understand. My Neil is gone. He died in a fire.” Her knees buckled. It was because she'd slept with somebody. She'd gone crazy. Guilt. It had to be guilt.
"No. No, there was an explosion. I, man, I can remember fiery hell, and getting knocked about a mile. My lip. It split open, and parts of me were burned. I knew I was a dead man. But when I woke up, I somehow wasn't."
"I don't understand.” She shivered. “Why wouldn't the hospital call? Have you called your mom? The station?"
Everyone thought he was dead. Everyone.
"I can't. Honey, I'm not the same.” He bared his teeth at her.
Sharp. Long. White. Not Neil's.
Liz reached over, propped herself up against the wall, mouth dry.
"It was the one who pulled me out of the fire. I didn't have a choice. I had to wait to come back until I knew I wouldn't hurt you.” He came closer, slowly, hand out like and talking to her like he would a scared child.
"Hurt me? What ... I don't. Why tonight?” Kitchen. Knives. Come on, Lizzie. You've lost your mind. You're talking to your dead husband. You have to get out of here.
Neil got to her before she got away, hands settling on her upper arms. “I had these urges, Liz. Dangerous ones. But I'm back now."
Maybe it was better to just be nuts. To close her eyes and let the insanity have her.
"Back. How did you know? Tonight. To find me. I don't.” That was it, just close her eyes and breathe. Breathe Neil in.
"I waited. I knew you'd have to come out sometime. I've been waiting for you, honey.” He stroked her skin, up and down her arms, soothing. So close. Close enough to lean on. “I never stopped wanting. Loving you."
"I hurt. Everything hurt from missing you.” The tears came, soft and slow, leaking from her like she was a pierced water balloon.
"I know.” Neil pulled her close, folding his arms around her. “I know, Belle. I promised I'd come home, though. I did."
"You did. Where...” It hurt her, to believe he had a life somewhere else, somewhere without her, somewhere she didn't understand, but he had to, didn't he? He had to. Two years.
Liz rested her cheek against his shoulder, eyelashes sticky with melted mascara.
"I've been waiting. Just waiting for you. Learning about this new thing. Trying not to give into it.” He sighed, his chest rising and falling against her. “I get so hungry."
"Hungry? I ... Neil, I would get you whatever you needed. I would feed you, take care of you, you know that.” He should know that. She loved him, took care of his house, his life.
"I was afraid, lost. I'm not now.” He kissed her forehead, her wet cheeks, her mouth. “Say I can come back, Belle. I'm ready for that birthday dinner of yours now. You don't think I forgot that's tomorrow?"
She'd forgotten. She'd forgotten so much. The curve of his bottom lip, the way his hand weighed her breast, thumb slowly rubbing her nipple, fingers drawing circles in the small of her back.
"Don't leave me here again. If I'm crazy, it's okay. I can be crazy. Please. Just don't leave me here alone. You promised me forever.” The world felt so distant, nothing but Neil seemed solid, strong. Real. Nothing but Neil and those fingers, that sweet touch, those bright eyes.
"I'll never leave you again, Belle. I promise.” He smiled, blue eyes twinkling, sharp teeth pricking his lip, the scent of copper faint in the air. “This way we really can have forever. Just the two of us."
"The two of us.” Those eyes were so clear, like the morning she married him, the April sunshine shining in them. She went up on her toes, tongue licking the blood off Neil's lip. Oh. Tingles. “Please."
The soft rumble heated her as he nodded, hands sliding down her back to pull her close, one coming back up to tilt her head back and expose her throat. “The two of us,” he said, teeth like tiny needles on her skin. “Forever."
End.
* * *
Visit www.torquerepress.com for information on additional titles by this and other authors.