by Scott Wylder
Chewing nervously on my thumbnail, I paced the pavilion in the town square, debating on whether to go to Seth’s house and thank him personally. Would that be too much akin to throwing myself at him? Yes, that would be too forward and might make him think I was just another groupie up for a one-night stand or three.
Ninety minutes later, I was still pacing; still debating. I couldn’t go home until I had seen Seth; I had to prove to myself that he was still merely a man, flesh and blood, and very imperfect. I didn’t need this fantasy to grow completely out of all proportion and I was certain that my mind was embellishing his perfectness.
Seth would have to walk past me on his way to open the bar for evening business. I’d placed myself in his path in my deliberation and then decided to wait there until I saw him coming down the road. I still didn’t know whether I’d speak to him, draw attention to myself, or let him walk past without a word.
Seth appeared in his Heavy Chevy, roaring around the corner and into the public parking area just up the street. His jet-black, shoulder-length hair ruffling in the mild breeze and I longed to touch it, run my fingers through it, twist them into it and pull him close.
Walking toward me, his head down as he fiddled with his cell phone, Seth was a sexy mirage moving through the dappled sunlight on the sidewalk. I wanted to devour him, and all my attention was on him, his every movement enchanting me further.
Seth put away his cell and raised his eyes. He looked at something to my right, out in the street perhaps; it didn’t matter. I could see his face and how perfect it really was, that was all that mattered.
His gaze shot back toward me and we made eye contact. I raised my hand in a tentative wave. The rest happened so fast that it was over almost before I realized what was going on.
Seth’s eyes grew large and his mouth opened in a shout that I couldn’t make out. He was running toward me and my muddled brain thought he was running to embrace me because he was so happy to see me. A smile stretched my face; but then he was still running and impact was imminent. I cringed and then I was on the ground and Seth was shouting at someone or something on the street behind me, on the other side of the square.
A shot rang out and the wind from it brushed my cheek. I screamed and tucked my face into Seth’s shoulder. Then he was up and away.
Rolling to my side, I saw him tackle a man and it took a second or two for me to see who it was that he had tackled. A handgun flew to the side of the tussling men and clattered to the cobblestones in the square. People screamed and ran from the square.
A police siren wailed to life on the street just past Seth and the man he had tackled and then held in a bear hug, facing me. It was Curtis Rake.
My heart skipped more than a single beat and for a moment I had tunnel vision as I scurried to my feet. Curtis had just tried to kill me. The bullet that whizzed by my face had been from his gun and had been meant for me. My body turned numb and a high-pitched buzzing filled my ears.
No one had notified me that Curtis was set to be released.
Seth stood with Curtis in an arm-lock hold and walked him toward a tree. Curtis struggled but he was no match for the much taller and stronger Seth. Two policemen ran into the square and yelled something at the men and Seth smashed Curtis’s head into the nearest tree trunk and then let go of him, backed up, raised his hands in submission to the cops, and laughed as Curtis crumpled to the ground—unconscious again.
Another cruiser and then a third pulled up and more cops were out and running toward the square and me.
After the incident had been cleared up and all our statements had been recorded, Seth asked if I was all right.
“I suppose so. If you hadn’t been coming down the street at that exact moment, though…” I let the words trail off, unwilling to finish the sentence. If not for Seth, I’d be dead.
“It’s over now and he won’t be getting out of jail anytime soon after this. Come with me. Let me take you back to my place for the night. No funny business; just a night free from worry or fright for you.”
He offered his hand and I took it. I was too mentally exhausted to do otherwise, and I didn’t fancy spending the night alone in my house so far away from other people. I would feel safer at Seth’s house.
The next morning, maybe it would all seem like a bad dream. The next day, I could start my life anew, knowing that Curtis was really gone—at least long enough to give me some time to start a new life without worrying about where he was going to pop up again.
Chapter 5
(Seth)
Without a single conscious thought, I had risked my own life to protect Katrina—again. It seemed that fate had managed to toss us together for a second time. When I offered to let her stay at my house overnight, it was as innocent a gesture as I’ve ever made. It was only to make her feel safe and secure for a night while good ole Curtis was being processed and sent away for a long time.
My mother used to say that the road to hell was paved with good intentions. I think I understand that a bit better now. Although I fought the good fight and tried to stay away from Katrina to preserve my bachelor-like way of life and freedom, it wasn’t meant to be.
Since I’d seen her that night in the Big Hat, fleeing Curtis’s abuse, I’d wanted her, wanted to protect her, hold her, take her in the night and make her mine. That first rush of adrenaline-powered lust is usually gone within a few days, even from the background of my mind. This isn’t the first time it’s happened, but it’s the first time I’ve not been able to rid myself of it.
Katrina came downstairs in one of my old shirts and a pair of my lounging shorts. I was walking past the stairs as she descended. Her beauty, her charming, innocent looks in those too-big clothes, her hair falling softly around her tanned and gorgeous face, stopped me in my tracks. For a moment, I forgot that I had poured us drinks and was carrying them to the den where we were going to watch television until she felt she could fall asleep.
Standing there with my eyes glued to her and my mouth hanging open, all I could think was how badly I wanted to see her walking down those same stairs naked. Preferably after I’d had my way with her.
The beginnings of an erection stirred, and I caught my breath in time to tell her the drinks were ready and then I moved on before the situation got worse for me. I’d never been nervous around a woman before—especially when I was getting aroused for her. More often than not, I made the situation obvious for the woman. I mean, that’s how I got laid most times. In my experience, if a woman knew I was hard for them, it aroused them, and we had sex.
I’d never had any problem with that particular arrangement before. For some reason, I didn’t want to be aroused where Katrina might notice. I wasn’t positive that she’d object, but I felt as if I’d be taking advantage of her, and I didn’t want to do that either. Not that I’d never taken advantage of similar situations before, but I was set against it with Katrina for some reason.
She followed me to the den. We drank whiskey and watched old Twilight Zone reruns on a marathon until the sun began rising. She had finally drunk enough alcohol to be sleepy. I showed her to the guest room upstairs and left her, shutting the door behind me and leaning against it, listening to her soft purring snore for a moment.
The only thing I wanted to do at that moment was get away from her door before I decided to go back in there and strip naked, crawl under the covers with her, and work my baggy shorts off her slender, alluring hips and make wild, passionate love to her until we were both exhausted.
Pushing away from the door, I headed to my room just down the hall. Sleep came easily that morning. With it, came erotic dreams of Katrina in which I did all the things I had consciously thought about doing to her earlier.
In the dreams, I had no moral crisis about fucking her in every position and in every orifice, in public and in private.
It seemed as if I lay there enjoying those dreams for days although it was only three hours later that my alarm blared me out of my reverie. I wa
s so hard upon waking that my cock throbbed painfully for ten minutes before the erection ebbed a bit.
From my bathroom, I could hear the sounds of someone cooking in the kitchen below. Katrina had already awakened and was apparently hungry. She’d turned down all offers of food the night before.
I stalled going downstairs until I was sure there was no trace of my erection that she might notice through my clothes. In the kitchen, Katrina, still in my baggy clothes, but obviously minus her bra, stood at the stove, flipping pancakes in one skillet and eggs in the other. Sausage gravy and warm biscuits sat on the table already and the coffee was brewing.
Taking in the super-domestic scene from the doorway, I was shocked at how much I liked it. Everything in my brain came to a screeching halt and then began screaming that I should immediately take her to her house or wherever she wanted to go—anywhere but in my kitchen, in my house, in my life, threatening my freedom.
Turning, she saw me, and her smile was broad, instant, and genuine. “Good morning, sunshine. I made breakfast for us. It’s the least I could do after all you’ve done for me. I hope you don’t mind.” She walked to the table and plated the eggs.
Stammering, running my hand through my hair, I said, “No. That’s…gr…great. You didn’t have to, though.” I sat heavily at the table, feeling my resolve weakening a degree.
She plated the pancakes and winked at me. “I know. That’s why I enjoyed cooking so much, because I didn’t have to—I wanted to.”
Her breasts jiggled invitingly under the thin fabric of the shirt I’d let her borrow. Was she flirting by going bra-less? Probably. I couldn’t eat. My eyes kept drifting back to her hard nipples poking at the T-shirt material. Her tits were perfect and made for going bra-less. I would insist on it regularly, if she and I ever hooked up, I thought.
At that instant, I understood that I had every intention of making her mine, claiming her in every way possible.
I knew I was in trouble even more with every jiggle of her perfect, begging-to-be-fondled breasts.
Chapter 6
(Katrina)
Spending the night at Seth’s house had been the best thing I had agreed to do in a decade. I was blasted when he walked me to my room and tucked me gently into bed, but I awoke about 3 hours later and was happier than I had been in years. It was as if the weight and stress of the world had been lifted from me. I was bubbly. And, I’m not usually the bubbly type as anyone who knows me can verify.
I wanted to show my gratitude in some way, so I made breakfast while Seth slept. It was a huge breakfast. I hadn’t cooked like that in several years—probably since I’d been employed in a breakfast and brunch restaurant just outside of town when I was in my early twenties. It felt good and I hummed a happy tune while I cooked.
That was probably because if I stopped moving, stopped doing, then my mind drifted back to Curtis shooting at me in public. Or, maybe because shortly after that clattered through my mind, I thought about how Seth had saved me and how damn sexy he was.
I didn’t think I was ready to start another relationship of any kind; I’d thought about it a lot while drinking and watching television with him the day before. The last thing I needed was to get involved with anyone else. Finding myself, finding my own way after so many years of being tied to someone else’s every whim was what I needed to focus on. It wouldn’t be easy, but that’s what I needed to do now.
Seth and I ate breakfast and we talked and laughed. It was a good start to a good day. Seth ended up helping me clean up the kitchen after breakfast. When his hand would accidentally brush against mine or we would bump into each other, my heart raced and I got butterflies in the center of my chest. I don’t know how it affected Seth, if at all—after all, he’s used to touching women, and on purpose, not by accident.
The way he smiled at me in the bright mid-morning sunlight falling through the window would have made even the most stoic woman melt a little. Gah! He was perhaps the most beautiful man I’d ever seen.
With breakfast cleaned up, I told Seth that I was going home. I thanked him profusely. He offered to drive me home, but I wanted to walk, to be alone out there, feel the freedom of walking alone in the sunshine and knowing I was safe for once.
“I’d feel much better if you let me drive you home, though.” He’d said as he stood in the doorway with me.
After a minute or two of further debate, I shook my head, smiling up at him. “No. Really, I want to walk. You’ve already done so much for me.” I tiptoed and aimed to plant a kiss on his cheek.
Turning his head, the split-second before my kiss landed, he turned his head sharply and our lips met.
My instinct was to pull back, but his hand was at the back of my neck, pulling me closer; the kiss deepening. I thought my heart would explode in my chest. The butterflies were banished, and my knees weakened.
Before I knew what was happening, my hands had fluttered up his broad, strong, hard chest and tangled in his mass of black hair. Pressing my body against his, I stood there filled with a need, a want that I hadn’t felt for anyone in years. Was it just the stress of Curtis’s recent attack and arrest? Was it only the fact that Seth saved me? Was I having a savior fantasy? Maybe. Seth let his hand run down my back and he cupped my ass cheek, squeezed it gently, and then rougher.
He pressed his tongue into my mouth and I moaned, leaning into him harder. The choices I’d been contemplating only moments before, flew out the window; the heat of the moment took all those good intentions about finding my own way, finding myself—gone! And, did I notice? Nope. Had I noticed, would I have cared? Nope.
All that mattered was Seth’s touch, Seth’s kiss, Seth’s body pressed against mine in the open doorway of his house. I didn’t want to be in the open doorway anymore. I wanted to be in his bed with his naked body pressing mine into the mattress.
Seth lifted me without breaking the kiss. He kicked at the door as he moved us away from it and into the living room. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I realized he was headed for the stairs.
Chapter 7
(Seth)
The moment I decided to turn my head and catch Katrina’s kiss with my lips changed everything. The entire dynamic of the previous day, of that morning in fact, was changed, shifted and things were different between us. Only the heartbeat of time that she tensed against me, and then she melted against me, kissing me back with ever-increasing fervor, pressing her body to mine.
Just that little acceptance of my advances and I knew for sure that she wanted me as badly as I wanted her. She wasn’t like the other women I’d been with over the years; Katrina was different somehow. I had not figured out what made her seem so different, but I badly wanted to keep her around at least until I did discover the reason.
Her nipples hardened, and through the thin fabric of our shirts, I felt those hard little nubs. It turned me on so much that I had to feel all of her. Her perfect ass under my hand was more than I could bear. I was hot for her; I was hard for her, and she didn’t seem to want to resist. I carried her to the bedroom, kissing her, devouring her with every step. Her legs wrapped around my waist as if they were made to be a custom fit only for me. Through those baggy shorts, heat radiated against my lower belly. She was as ready as I was for what came next.
Our arms tangled more than once as we greedily tore at each other’s clothes, both eager to gain our satisfaction and have the other naked as quickly as possible. For her, maybe it was so that she wouldn’t have time to think about it and perhaps decide to back out. Maybe. It didn’t seem that way to me, though. It was as if she wanted me more than she wanted air to breathe; I was the most important thing in the universe to her at that moment—and that added fuel to my already raging fire for her.
To be wanted that way does something to a man—any man, I’m betting. There’s nothing quite like looking into the face of a woman you’re about to bed and seeing that need, that longing, that want in her eyes, in the curve of her lips and eyebrows. It had been a
long time since I’d seen that look in a woman’s eyes for me; as a matter of fact, I can’t remember ever seeing such a genuine lust on all levels from one of my many sexual partners over the years.
Seeing that look on Katrina’s face and in those wide, brown, innocent eyes that allowed me to glimpse the true Katrina all the way to her soul, pulled at my heart. And, that, I can assure you never happened before. Every other woman I’d ever slept with had been strictly on the physical level. No one had ever elicited such a feeling from my heart.
Though I wanted to devour her roughly, satisfy my raging need, I didn’t. I forced myself to take it slow and gentle. Flicking my tongue over every inch of her body until she writhed and mewled in ecstasy; until she pleaded for me to take her, give her satisfaction.
Obliging her wish, I took her to climax three times. Each time more intense than the last, until I could take no more and her convulsions sent me over the edge. It was the most erotic orgasm I’ve ever experienced.
Afterward, we slept soundly for hours, wrapped in each other’s arms, legs tangled, in a peaceful afterglow that was also new to me.
I awoke before Katrina and watched her sleep for several minutes. My heart thudded hard in my chest as I watched her. In that moment, she was the most beautiful, most fragile, most innocent looking woman I’d ever seen and I felt the certain need to protect her from that day forward. I couldn’t stand the thought of her ever going back to her own place to stay even for a single night. No. I wanted her with me all the time. I would do anything to keep making love to her the way I had the night before; anything to make sure she was safe and sound from the world that had been so cruel to her thus far.