Like You

by Rachel Leigh

  “You act like you’ve never seen a gun before.” She laughs, swaying it back and forth, as the gun points at the ceiling.

  “Woah. Let’s put the gun down.” I attempt to take it from her hands, before she accidentally shoots a hole in the ceiling.

  “Calm down, I’m not going to shoot you.”

  “Thank you for that.” I sigh. “Why do you have a gun, anyway?.”

  “Protection. I’m a single girl living on my own. Why wouldn’t I have one?” She pulls open a kitchen drawer and drops it inside.

  “Well, now that that’s out of the way.” I grab her by the waist and pull her into me, nuzzling my face into her neck.

  “Knox, we can’t.” She puts her hands on my shoulder but doesn’t push me away. Instead, she drops her head to the side, as my lips tease her damp skin. Her hair is dripping wet, and I can tell that I interrupted her shower. I’m not even sorry for it.

  “Why can’t we?” I mutter, between kisses to her neck, moving my way up her jawline. “I’m not ready for our morning to end.”

  “It can’t happen again.”

  “Sure it can. Our secret is safe with me.” I grab her left leg, lifting it to my side and pressing myself between her thighs.

  “Damnit,” she grabs my face and presses her mouth to mine. “I’m going straight to hell for this.”

  “Then we burn together.” I position my hands under her ass and lift her up. My lips crash into hers, and every inch of my being burns with desire to have her—even if hell is our final destination.

  I pull the rooms of this small house from memory and carry her to the bedroom. Laying her down gently on the bed, as her legs wrap around my back. My hand traces up her leg, and I notice she’s not wearing any underwear. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

  Her hands snake under my arms and she pulls me closer. “Are you sure you want to do this?” she asks, as if I’d ever not want to do this.

  “More than anything.” I sweep my index finger up her slit. “You’re so wet, baby.”

  She reaches between us and takes my hand, pressing it harder against her, as she grinds against it. “Do you have a condom?”

  “We’re not there yet.” I straighten up and untie the front of her robe. Spreading it open so that it falls to each side of her. I lean forward and trace my tongue around her belly button, kissing my way lower. Her vanilla scent so inviting, everything about her so perfect.

  I spread her bare lips with both hands and begin sucking on her clit. Her hips lift into me, as she twitches. Jolts of pleasure shoot through her and release in each moan she makes.

  “Oh God.” Her voice is raspy and full of need.

  I press two fingers in and lick her pussy up and down. Her fingers rake through my hair, and she grips the side of my head, as she beings fucking my face. “I’m coming,” she moans, getting a tighter grip on my hair. I continue to plunge my fingers in and out, as she reaches the high of her climax, licking her dry in the process.

  When I’m sure she’s done, I tear my shirt off and slide my pants down then return between her legs. Pulling my wallet from the back pocket, I grab a condom and use my teeth to rip off the top and slide it on in one quick motion.

  My dick sticks straight out, and I’m lined up perfectly, but I hesitate. “Are you sure?” It’s my turn to ask.

  She doesn’t answer; instead, she grabs my dick and sticks it inside of her. All the weight of the world is lifted from my shoulders in that moment, as I push deeper inside, feeling her walls tighten around me. I get on my knees and lift both of her legs, letting them hang over my forearms. Hungry eyes meet mine, as I watch her expression with each movement. Using her legs to plummet her body against mine in hasty motions.

  “You have no idea how bad I’ve wanted this.” My voice is gruff and I hardly recognize it.

  She lifts herself forward and grabs me, pulling me down onto her naked body. Her legs fall open to her sides, as I continue to fuck her. Hard, deep, and fast. Slow is not in our vocabulary.

  “Roll over,” I tell her. I come out of her with a pop, and when she's on her stomach, I grab her by the hips and lift her up, so that she’s on all fours. My dick swoops back inside of her, as if he knows exactly where to go. My hands plant firmly on her hips and her ass is upright, as her head falls forward. My body crashing into hers repeatedly.

  I throw my head back and groan, as I combust, filling up the condom so much that it might overflow inside of her. “Fuck, Claire.” I hum, giving myself one last thrust.

  I pull out and slide the condom off, pinching the top of it. Claire drops her body down then rolls over to her side with a grin on her face. Satisfied. Mission accomplished.

  I lean forward and kiss her cheek. “Be right back.”

  Still stark naked, I walk across the hall to the bathroom and wrap the condom in some toilet paper then throw it in the wastebasket.

  I take a piss and wash my hands, then splash some cold water on my face. Still reeling from the euphoria that remains. I can’t wrap my head around what this girl does to me. Even being mere feet away from her has me feeling like it’s too far. I want to be near her, touch her, lie awake and hear her deepest thoughts. I want it all.

  When I walk back into the bedroom, she’s sitting cross legged on the bed with her robe tied back in place. “My turn.” She springs up with her newfound giddiness. One that I like to think I helped her to achieve. It’s nice seeing her happy, and a big change from the teacher who glares at us like we’re mice in a cage during class.

  She stalks past me, and I throw my arm out, catching her by the waist and swinging her around to me. She lets out a cute shriek, and my lips smack into hers. A lazy and passionate kiss. Slow and steady. I gently suck her bottom lip between my teeth and taste the sweet mint that rolls off her tongue.

  Her hands find their way to the back of my head, as her fingers rifle through my hair. My tongue twists around hers. Soft and gentle escalates quickly, and as much as I’d love to have her over and over again, I don’t want her thinking that’s all I want.

  We pull away in sync, and she grins, before I watch her walk to the bathroom. I fall back on the bed with my arm over my head and my legs hanging freely.

  I hate to leave, but I promised Blakely lunch, before I have to go to work.

  But, this won’t be goodbye. We’ve only just begun.

  14

  Claire

  It’s only been twenty-four hours since my feelings blossomed from nothing to this overgrown mess of emotions. The sun shines brightly through my window, as my brush sweeps the canvas. I tilt my head to the side, as I make waves in the sandy blonde hairline. Those eyes, an exact replica, and I feel as if he’s staring back at me. I feel like a lovesick puppy—like a child with a crush, and I’m not even sorry for it. I’d do it all again just to feel myself come alive again. The way he kisses my forehead—no one has ever made me feel so important with such a simple act.

  “How was your night, Ms. Pruitt?” Jorge asked, as I strode into the living quarters. Hazy eyes and hair in a tangled mess. I look down at my gown, less than twelve hours ago I felt like a princess, now I can’t even bear to look at my reflection.

  I don’t even respond. The shock hasn’t worn off. I’m not sure that it ever will. I walk straight past him and into the box-sized sleepover room that I was demoted to after my last fuckup. I did what I had to do, and I can never take it back. I find my way to the bathroom and fill the tub, watching the steam roll off, as I just stare into the cloud—dazed and confused. It’s as if time is passing but leaving me behind.

  Hours pass by, as I lay in the bubbly water that reaches up to my mouth. When the door opens, Malcolm walks in. I sink under the bubbles for dramatic effect, as if to tell him that I don’t want company.

  Not that he cares. Not that he has ever cared.

  I’m not sure if he’s here to provoke me, as he always does. Or, to tell me that my time here has ended. Either way, I don’t even care at this point. If he were
to set me free right now, I just might make the escape.

  “Why are you here?” I ask.

  “Because this is my house and I go where I please.” He takes a seat on the rim of the clawfoot bathtub that sits in the center of the room. “Besides, this is my bathroom. You know this wing is off-limits.”

  “I can’t do it again.” The unraveling touch of a stranger, his hands wrapped around me like I was his own personal package. Delivered and left for him to open up and do as he pleased. I held my focus on the flicking of the table lamp, until I couldn’t take it anymore. Now I’ve made a huge mess of my life.

  “You, my love,” he presses a kiss to my forehead, one that makes my stomach churn, “are correct. You did what you had to do. You are safe now.”

  His simple acts were never out of kindness or compassion toward another; they were always full of motive. Somehow, Malcolm was always two steps ahead of me. He had my future planned out the minute he stepped foot in that art studio. My life was a series of unfortunate events from that day forward, all carefully plotted and executed at the most opportune time for him.

  I throw the paintbrush into the tray and stand up abruptly.

  I have to get out of here.

  The more I sit here alone, the more I think. The more I think, the more I feel like I’m losing my damn mind.

  I go into the bathroom and wash my hands, watching as the colors mix and run down the drain. I scrub repeatedly, even when there is nothing left to wash off. Feeling as washed away as the paint, I turn the handle to shut the water off, when I hear my phone buzzing from the bedroom.

  I pull myself together, and my bare feet eat up the floor, as I quickly hurry to the desk where it sits.

  A number I don’t recognize flashes on the screen with a text message.

  The pub is dead, come see me.

  Me: Who is this?

  Not even five seconds later, a response.

  Knox.

  Me: How did you get my number?

  Knox: I may have snooped through my mom’s phone to get it.

  I’m all smiles, as I text him back.

  Me: I don’t think that’s a good idea.

  I hit send, then have a better idea.

  Me: Come over after work.

  I throw myself back on my bed with my phone held over my head, anxiously awaiting his response.

  Knox: Work just ended. Be there in five.

  I let out a chuckle and type back.

  Me: Be inconspicuous. Don’t get caught!

  Knox: You’re such a teacher. I’ll be sneaky ;)

  I shake my head and drop my phone to my side. The feelings from five minutes ago have escaped me, and I’m filled with a happiness that I didn’t think I’d ever feel again.

  I didn’t know it was possible to experience so many emotions at one time: happiness in the present, fear for the future, and pain from the past. It’s like I’m on a rollercoaster, and I’m heading up to the top, before it swoops me down into an unknown place that I can’t see. I know it’s coming, but when it’s coming, I can’t control.

  I lie there sorting through all the randomness that pops into my head. Attempting to answer my own questions, convince myself of all the reasons that I deserve this happiness. Then talking myself out of it, when the truth is, I probably don’t deserve it. Malcolm might be a monster, but I’m that monster's wife, and he made me his wife for a reason.

  I jump off the bed when I remember that Knox is on his way. A glance in the mirror has me combing my fingers through my hair and wiping away the tear stains that I didn’t even know were there. Sometimes, you cry so often that you don’t even realize when it’s happening. I press my hands to my dress, straightening it out, when he walks up behind me. A smile grows on my face when his reflection joins mine.

  “Haven’t you learned your lesson about sneaking into my house,” I tease, as he sweeps my hair to the side and presses his lips to my neck.

  “You and your gun don’t scare me,” he breathes into my skin. “Besides, it’s worth it if I get to do this.”

  I close my eyes, letting my head fall to his shoulder. With one hand on my hip, his other hand sweeps up my dress, caressing my inner thigh. The smell of grease on his clothes doesn’t even turn me off, if anything, it turns me on more. The hands of a hardworking man wrapped around me. He works his hand up my dress and traces the line of my panties with his fingertips, provoking me and clouding all other senses. All I can focus on is his touch.

  In one swift motion, he pulls away. “That’s enough of that.”

  I spin around to face him. “What? Why?” I pout.

  “That’s not what I came here for.” He kisses my forehead again, melting me, like every other time. “I came here to see you, not sleep with you.”

  I could throw a tantrum, until I get what I want; I have a ninety-nine percent success rate. However, I just nod. He’s right. I don’t want this to be all about sex. The sex is amazing, but I want so much more from him.

  “Come with me.” He takes my hand and pulls me out of the bedroom.

  We walk into the adjoining kitchen and living room. Three to-go containers sit on the table along with two fountain beverages. “What’s this?” I say coyly, pulling his arm closer and twisting myself around it.

  “Dinner.”

  “How did you even have time to make all of this? It’s literally been five minutes since you left work on a whim.”

  “Confession. I didn’t make it.” He walks over and opens the containers of grease filled foods. “A to-go order got mixed up, and instead of tossing it out, I figured we’d eat it.”

  “I thought you said the pub was dead.”

  “Another confession.” He grins. “I lied. We were busy as hell, but I faked a headache.”

  “Knox! Why would you do that?” I’m flattered, but at the same time, I don’t want to be a distraction in his life.

  “Because I can’t stop thinking about you.” He takes a step back to me; his hands find my neck again, as he tangles his fingers in my hair. Titling my head, his mouth meets mine. “and, all I can think about is touching you,” he breathes into my mouth, “and kissing you.”

  “I thought you said we had enough of that,” I tease him, as my mouth ghosts his.

  “I can never get enough of this, of him.” His lips crash into mine, his tongue sliding in, and I’m back in his arms. He was right, though. This isn’t all about sex. It’s this nagging need for him. To be near him. Both of us feeling like we can’t get enough of the other, and hearing that it’s reciprocated is everything—and because of it, I want him so much more.

  I ball the sides of his shirt into my hands, and lift it up, pulling it over his head and admiring his perfectly toned body. His eyes bore into mine with lust behind them. I run my hands up his abs to his neck and then plant them on his face, as I pull him back into me.

  “Our food is getting cold.” His voice is gruff.

  “I have a microwave.”

  And just like that, he sweeps me up in a cradle position and carries me over to the couch. Laying me down gently, he climbs between my open legs. My clothes all still intact. Just as I’m about to slide off my panties, there is a pounding at the door.

  “Oh no.” I push Knox off of me, and he stumbles off the couch. He jumps up and hurries over to his shirt on the floor.

  My front blinds are completely open, so anyone could have seen us. I spring off the couch and straighten my dress. “My bedroom.” I point in desperation for him to hide, like right the hell now. Whoever it is begins knocking again, harder this time.

  My heart races, and I’m terrified to open that door. The mystery of who is on the other side has me in a complete panic. Feeling as if I can’t breathe. “One minute,” I holler, giving myself a minute to catch my composure.

  I reach for the handle and inhale deeply, before pulling the door open.

  “Zeke?” I stand there stupefied.

  “Hi Claire, I hope you don’t mind me stopping by unannounce
d.” He slicks his dark hair back and flashes his pearly whites.

  “How did you know where I live?” I blurt out, in a state of confusion, as to what in the world he’s doing on my front porch. Granted, I’ve had lunch with him in the cafeteria a couple times and went for drinks with him and the other staff once, but we’re not close friends, and we’ve never made personal house calls to each other.

  “It’s a small town. Everyone knows where everyone lives.” He pauses, looking over my shoulder like a nosey neighbor. “Is this a bad time?”

  “Uhh uuhh, no,” I stutter, “why would it be a bad time?” You’d think after everything I’ve been through and all the lies I’ve told that I’d be able to bluff my way out of anything. The truth is, I’m actually terrible at lying on the spot. I get jittery and nervous, and it shows.

  “It looks like you have company.” He tilts his head with his eyes behind me.

  My stomach drops, and I freeze. If I turn around and Knox is standing there, I’ll die. I’ll erase every memory of the last twenty-four hours with him, and I will tear him a new one.

  I turn my head and look back and thank you Jesus, he’s not there. But, sitting right on the round table are two drinks and open containers of food.

  “Nope, just me.” I swing my head back around with a smile. “The neighbor boy, what’s his name?” I snap my fingers together. “Knox. Knox brought that over to the main house and the housekeeper brought it to me. Such kind people they are.” I press my hand against the doorframe, trying to hide anything else that he might see that I’m not aware of. “Did you need something?” I’m not trying to be rude, but I’m sure it comes off that way.

  “I was actually stopping by to see if you’d like to go grab dinner but looks like you’ve already eaten or were planning to eat.”

  “Oh yeah,” I rub my stomach, “just finished. Thank you so much for the offer, though. Maybe next time?”

  His face holds a blank expression. Part of me doesn’t even care. Let him suspect I’m lying. Maybe he’ll just get the hint that I’m really not interested. There is no way he’d ever suspect what is really going on—that I’m hiding my student in my bedroom because I was just getting ready to let him fuck me on the couch.