ROMANCE: His Reluctant Heart (Historical Western Victorian Romance) (Historical Mail Order Bride Romance Fantasy Short Stories)

by Jane Prescott

  When she walked back to her table she found it empty. Jen knew right away what had happened, but she tried not to look at the bar. She knew what she was going to find if she looked. She already knew. But she looked anyway, and there he was, sitting at the bar hunched over, staring down into his drink like he'd find whatever answers that alluded him at the bottom. How many drinks had he had already? And would he be able to stop? Those were two things that she needed to find out, and right then. So she walked over to the far end of the bar and acted like she was ordering a drink. When the bartender walked over she told him that she was the girlfriend of the guy at the other end of the bar and she just wanted to know how many he'd had before she approached him.

  “He's had about eight so far,” the bartender said. “And he told me that you'd pay for it. Listen, I'm sorry if I shouldn't be serving him. I had no idea that this would be a problem.”

  “It's not a problem,” Jen said. “Yet, anyway. Let me see how he is.”

  Jen had approached him like he was some kind of bomb, ready to go off at any moment. She knew that acting as such wasn't the fairest she could be to Brad, but then again it wasn't very fair to her that after she left to take a quick work call he'd sprinted over to the bar and immediately started downing drinks.

  “Hey sweetheart,” Jen said as she approached. “How are you?”

  “How am I?” Brad had asked. “Well isn't that a hell of a question? You just come up to me and ask me how I am? Well, let me tell you something, I'm not well. I haven't been well in a very long time. And I've been trying to tell you that, but every time I bring it up you just start hassling me about drinking again, like I haven't heard it enough! I know I shouldn't be drinking! Don't you think that I know that? It isn't the drinking all by itself. It's a lot of things. Things I can't escape or forget.”

  Brad always became very vague whenever he got drunk. He liked to talk about a history he had that he'd never talked to her before when he was sober. When everything had just started to unravel she'd been intrigued by this supposed back story that she wasn't privy to, but since things had gone on this way for awhile now she was starting to wonder if Brad just wasn't full of shit. Jen never got the chance to find out. She left him that night. Stormed out of the restaurant after throwing some money down on the table. She never spoke with Brad again, and she was glad for that. That had been a few months ago, but she hadn't gone on a date or even slept with anyone else since then.

  As she dismounted the stair step machine she saw a broad shouldered man peeking at her every time he did a sit up. It struck her as cute that such a handsome man would feel the need to hide his attraction to her, as if she would scold him just for casting a glance her direction. She stretched out near him and pretended not to notice his attention, but it wasn't until she started throwing glances back that she realized she hadn't thought about Brad since she'd noticed the handsome man in the black shorts and Nike running shoes. Jen decided to talk to the man.

  “Hey, my name is Jen,” she said. “What's yours?”

  “I'm Rick,” he said. “It's a pleasure to meet you. Listen, I'm really sorry if you caught me looking at you. I do my best to not get caught, you know what I mean? But it's hard! So, listen, I'm really sorry, and it won't happen again.”

  Jen was taken aback for a moment. Why would this man act like she was going to bite his head off? Well, maybe it stood to figure that he'd done similar in the past and someone bit his head off. Many women were like that these days, it seemed, so strangely eager to hammer someone for something as small as a glance in their general direction. Of course Jen wasn't like this, not that she wasn't able to speak up for herself when the time came, but she just wasn't the kind of person that went around trying to get everyone to act the way she wanted.

  “No, no,” Jen said hastily. “I'm not coming over here to break your balls about getting caught looking at me. I don't care if you look at me.”

  Jen chuckled and so did Rick.

  “Well, that's good!” Rick said. “Because every time a woman comes over and yells at me for staring at them I'm not sure what to do! I mean, I don't intentionally get caught! Sure, I look on purpose, but not even that is intentional at first! You know how it is; I'm doing a bunch of sit ups and I look over and see a beautiful woman on the step machine and I just happen to take you in. Then all of a sudden you come over here and start to stretch out all close to me and I'm like, 'Fuck! Another one is going to chew my ass just for looking!'”

  “Do you get in trouble for looking often?” Jen asked.

  Rick smiled and nodded sheepishly.

  “I don't now what else to say but yes,” he said. “I don't mean to look, like I said, but it just happens. And then, no matter how much I say I'm sorry, people still lose their minds about it! I know it's not something that people should just turn a blind eye toward, that many people are harassed on the daily about stuff like their appearance, but at the same time I just hate feeling like I'm back in high school PE getting scolded for looking at girls.”

  Jen could tell that the man was being sincere. There was something about him that she really liked, but she had a hard time putting her finger on it. Rick was built like a spark plug, with short black hair and all sorts of tattoos all over him. None of them were below his wrist or on his neck, though, something she appreciated because it let her know that he wasn't the kind of person that got a bunch of permanent stuff done to his body without putting any thought into it. Jen was already warming up to Rick, and she knew it. She always got this way with guys that she was attracted to: She'd dance around the obvious for as long as she could before asking for their number, or hopefully giving her's to them after they'd ask.

  The two of them made small talk, chatting about everything from the politics of the small town of Des Moines they lived in, and sometimes even talking about the harder subjects like faith and religion. It turned out that Rick wasn't the kind of guy that was easily worked up about things that no one could change, or even understand. He didn't want to know every last detail about the afterlife from the Bible, but at the same time he was hesitant to say that there was nothing after someone died. Jen could appreciate a person who refused to be backed into a corner by their own words. It was something she was working on in herself, mostly due to her therapist pointing out how often she said something that she later regretted a great deal.

  Before they parted ways Jen gave him her number with a big smile on her lips. She had hoped that he would ask for it. And deep down she'd known that he would. It was hard for guys to resist her, and she knew it. But she also knew that if talked enough most guys got tired of listening to it. Not that she didn't give them a chance to speak, it was just that many men had to dominate the entire conversation or they just weren't interested. But it didn't seem so with Rick. He'd listened the whole time and never batted an eye when Jen offered up complex and multifaceted opinions on hot button issues. By the time she pulled into the parking lot of her apartment complex she was already hoping for a text from him. When she looked at her phone, she found it.

  Jen decided that it would be best to text Rick for awhile before going on a date with him. Although he'd never specifically mentioned going out with her, she knew that was what was on his mind. Not that Jen was stuck up or full of herself, but she knew how the world worked. Rick wouldn't even be speaking to her if he didn't want to taker her out. So they started conversing back and forth. Rick was in waste management, Jen learned. When she inquired what all that entailed he told her that it meant he was in charge of all the trash pick ups in the city where they lived, and a bunch of other stuff that sounded really complicated. His job had him working odd hours, so sometimes he wasn't available to text back and forth. Also, she found, Rick more or less hated talking on the phone. He'd speak with her on the phone only rarely, and he explained this as his aversion to how his voice sounded while being recorded; not that he thought that Jen was recording him, he went on to explain, but he just couldn't shake the sound of his ow
n voice the few times he'd recorded it himself just to see what it would be like.

  Jen found herself becoming more and more intrigued with Rick. He seemed like a nice, intelligent guy who was just trying to make a living. She knew that he was making quite a bit of money, but wasn't sure how much. Not that Jen cared about stuff like that, she was well enough off without needing anyone to help her along. Rick and her talked about all kinds of things, from films they'd both seen and liked, and didn't like, to music and literature. He was a very well read man, and also enjoyed all kinds of music. Politically she could tell that at one point he'd been very active in the community, but that it had burned him out and he just didn't have it in him anymore to get all fired up about politicians that were so phony they might as well have been a three dollar bill. He was a down to earth guy, Jen could tell, and she really liked that about him. She had a special disdain for people that walked around with their head in the clouds, or up their own asses, as was more often the case.

  After a week or so of texting back and forth, and a few scant phone calls, she decided that it might be time to go on a date with him. He hadn't asked yet, though, hadn't even hinted that he wanted to spend time with her in real life. But he had talked about his schedule a little bit, and how even though he was busy he could always break away to hang out with someone special. Jen guessed that was a heavy handed hint that he was down to spend some time with her, so one day she asked. It was over text, so there was no way for her to know if he'd really received it or not. Of course it's easy to assume that someone receives the text, and her smart phone showed her that indeed he had, and even read it. But Jen tried not to put too much stock in what her smart phone told her, it just messed up too many times a day for her to get mad at Rick if he didn't shoot her a text back right away.

  So Jen waited. And waited. It was a full eight hours later, in the evening, when Rick finally got back to her. When she received the text she lost her breath, and didn't know what to do. She paced around her apartment trying to figure out a way to look at the text without really looking at it, to open it while leaving it closed. Jen hadn't known how strong she'd felt about the entire thing until that very moment. But maybe it wasn't a strong feeling for Rick as much as it was a strong desire to never be rejected again. Jen chided herself as she sat on her couch trying to breathe in a way that would bring on a sense of peace. What had gotten into her? If she was feeling this strongly about him so quickly made it was a mistake all together. But she couldn't turn her back on the idea, and pushed forward.

  Rick, would you like to come over tonight to hang out? I've got a couple of DVDs I've rented but haven't watched yet and I was wondering if you'd like to join me?

  She waited every second for his reply text. First a minute went by. Then another minute. Then another minute. She couldn't believe that he had her hooked so early on in the relationship, even though she'd hooked herself and there wasn't a relationship to speak of yet. Jen was excited, though, she had to admit. Even with all of her misgivings about how eager she was, she was also excited that she was so eager. It was often that a guy got her all worked up so that she barely knew what to do with herself. She imagined what the sex would be like but it made her way too hot and bothered to think about if he was going to come over right now. But why not? They were both adults and it wasn't like they had any religions that they had to pay attention to, or anything else like that to worry about.

  I'll be right over, was his reply.

  Jen wondered if Rick had sent it thinking that he was going to get some ass. She hoped that he was. She tried not to think too hard about it but she couldn't help but get wet thinking about Rick in the gym, how fucking good he had looked. She wondered how hung he was, and if he knew how to use it. She hoped that he was well hung. Jen wasn't a snob about cock size, but at the same time she surely appreciated it when a man was well endowed. It made it so that he could get away with not knowing all of the little tricks that lesser endowed men had to know. What if he wasn't hung though? Jen decided that that didn't matter to her, not as much as the need for Rick to bend her over the couch and paddle her ass while he fucked her from behind. Jen hoped that Rick was into hair pulling and stuff like that because she was, in fact nothing turned her on like getting her hair pulled.

  There was a knock on her door. Jen didn't remember giving Rick directions to her place but she must have because who else could it be? She got up off the couch and opened the door and there he was, dressed in gym shorts and a t-shirt, with hard on tucked up in his waist band. Jen couldn't help but grab him around the neck and kiss him, then sink down to her knees as she kissed his chest, pulling his cock out of his waist band and giving it a tonguing it before putting it in her mouth and bobbing her head up and down on it like it was an ice pop or some other sweet, icy treat and it were the middle of the summer. After doing this for a few seconds Jen realized that they were standing in the door with it open, so she pulled Rick by the cock into her apartment, letting the door close behind them. She pulled him over to the couch and pushed him so that he sat down, then dropped to her knees in front of him. She grabbed his cock and started to suck on just the throbbing head of it, while stroking it up and down with both of her hands. His dick was big, really big.

  “What do you want me to do with this thing?” Jen asked as she held onto it with both hands, a tendril of saliva leading back to her pouted lips.

  “Whatever you want, baby,” Rick said.

  Jen got up and started to strip for Rick, slowly and sensually. First she danced her way out of her pants, then she pulled her shirt up over her head. By then Rick was on his feet and helped her undo her bra. Jen's big, heavy breasts fell out of her bra as she pulled it away. She was proud of her tits because they looked so good. Then she stepped out of her panties to reveal her perfectly shaved pussy. Rick ran his finger through her slit as he kissed her, pulling her close with his other hand as he pushed his tongue into her mouth. Jen could feel herself melting in his arms, squealing a little less each time he tweaked her nipples. Jen stroked his cock, twisting her hand slowly as she drew it up and down his shaft. She was always careful to avoid the head most of the time, but every so often she would fondle it all by itself. She loved the way it turned him on, made him crazy for her. She loved that about sex and men, how much they wanted her. She fell back on the couch and could feel her pussy get as wet as an ocean as Rick knelt before her and rubbed the head of his throbbing cock through her slit.

  “Fuck me Rick,” Jen said. “Oh please fuck me. Stick your big, thick cock in my pussy Rick. God damn you look fucking sexy right now. Look at you! Fucking stick that big cock on me, please! I want it!”

  Rick rubbed his cock up and down her slit, then slapped his meaty stick against her slip a few times. It drove Jen wild that he was being so vulgar about it. Most of the guys she'd slept with hadn't been bad boys in the bedroom and had just been meek and followed her lead.

  “You want my fucking dick, baby?” Rick said. “You want me to fuck you with my fucking dick? Do you? Well all right then, baby. I'll fucking fuck you with my big dick.”

  Rick slid his cock into up and down through Jen's slit. She arched her back and thrust her hips up into him to try and prolong the pleasure since he kept pulling away, as if he had changed his mind. Rick took her by the ankles and held them back behind her head so that her arms were pinned behind them to the couch, then, by shifting his pelvis, rested his cock head on her pussy. He slowly started to sink into her, inch by inch. It was a feeling she loved, to be split open like his big cock was doing to her now. Jen's thing for big cocks was taking her over and all she wanted was for Rick to pound her pussy, really give it to her. That was what she really craved and longed for, to be used like a little fuck doll in her own apartment.

  “Fuck me Rick,” Jen said. “Fuck me hard. I want you to fuck me silly, until my eyes cross and I can't see straight anymore. I know that's what you want to do to me, isn't it? I bet you want to fuck me so hard that it makes my leg
s bow so that I can't walk straight anymore! Fuck me Rick! I want to feel you pound my pussy like you mean it, like it's the last fuck you're ever going to have, like you want me to come harder than I've ever come before!”

  Rick started to increase the tempo of his rhythm, really giving it to her stroke after stroke. It felt great to slam into her pussy over and over like he was, knowing that she was loving every little second of it. Normally Rick was a lot more careful when he fucked a woman, but he knew that some women liked it a little rougher—Jen could tell because of how he was tentatively fucking her harder and harder. Jen could feel an orgasm building up inside of her in a way that she never had before. She loved how it made her feel, the way that ecstasy was literally building up in her pussy to discharge in a toe curling explosion that would blossom throughout her entire body.

  “I can feel it,” Jen said. “I'm going to come soon. Fuck me harder Rick. Please fuck me harder! I need you to make me come as hard as I can! It's been so long since I've gotten off. I need this!”

  Rick panted as he increased his tempo. She could tell that he was really giving her his all. She appreciated that he was willing to put in the work necessary to get her off. A lot of guys just didn't have it in them to hold of coming long enough to get the other person off. Jen didn't know if it had to do more with their fear of creating a kind of intimacy, even if it was only as brief as the orgasm, or if they really just couldn't handle waiting that long. Rick was seeming like he was going to stick it out, though. And it wasn't going to take much longer.