Darker Shade of Pale - HER FREEDOM (4 page)

BOOK: Darker Shade of Pale - HER FREEDOM
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Chapter Seven

 

I felt embarrassed for melting into Tyb's arms the way I did. Embarrassed and mortified that I wanted more than he did. Or did he? Shit, anyhow, he defined his boundary. I tried to save face. "Yeah, I don't want to be another notch on a guy's bedpost."

With a smirk,
Tyb turned around and began washing his hands at the tiny sink in the corner of the nearly-barren room. "You know, Izzy, I just never been the kind of guy to bang a chick just because he could. I enjoy the emotional aspect of intimacy as much as the physical, if not more. I was wrong to kiss you, and for that I apologize. It's the best way I know to make a woman stop weeping."

"You don't need to apologize.
Seriously. I'm embarrassed to mention it, but I married the only guy I ever kissed. I…I…I didn't know it'd feel so… good with someone I didn't know well. It's stupid. Forget I said anything." Pure mortification poured through every vein and artery in my body.

"Really?
You never kissed another guy besides him?" Guess my admission was an ego stroke to him. His warm-sherry eyes burned bright.

It was my turn to blush. "Yes. I'm ashamed to admit such a horrid fact. Even sadder to say that the physical intimacy with him usually veered toward
the him-taking-things-out-on-me side. So my experience is very limited. So on that note, I think I extra-liked your kisses. But that's because I'm ig'nant, I guess." I cracked a half-smile. The way I figured it, if Christos is going to bring glittery nuclear zompires to life, then I might as well enjoy what time this earth has before King NutJob unleashes Armageddon upon us all.

"Since you made your confession, I'll make mine. I learned girls are trouble.
Mara just threw some trouble my way, trouble with connections, 
trouble
 that is nearly irresistible. I'm only a man, Izzy. When there are things I want, I take them or make them. I don't have attractive women falling into my lap, as a rule. Let alone a woman running from her ex-husband, a very unstable ex-husband who already hates my guts, at that."

"Circumstances being what they are, it seems only natural to me.
Adam and Eve in your Eden here." I could feel that I had nothing to fear from Tyb. Didn't need to watch my words or hide how I felt lest he get mad. I would take the bull by the horns with him. "If I'm starting my life over, then it's a complete do-over. I'm attracted to you Tyb. Was before you kissed me, and the lip lock didn't exactly make that attraction dull. I'm going to be stranded up here for a long time, so as I see it, we either get over this mutual attraction or we give into it and enjoy what time we have before shit hits the fan."

I watched him swallow slowly, his
adam's apple bobbing while the look in Tyb's eyes seemed a cloud of passion and confusion. Or maybe it was me. Didn't know, didn't really care. Decided to go for the jugular. "Besides, Selesta is dead, you said so. So all her connections, all that 
trouble
, doesn't apply to Izzy, now does it? You said so yourself."

Wish I could bottle that burning look in his eyes for lonesome winter nights. I felt on fire, and while a nice chunk of that was due to my audacity, the lion's share belonged to
Tyb. "This could end badly. Then we're stuck up here with a person we detest."

"Maybe.
Maybe not. But I will tell you some facts. I am not sexually aggressive—this is the first time ever I've been this sprung over someone. But you're right. I'll pretend not to be all into you and everything will be just fine, right?"

A moment that felt as long as years emerged in the silence between
Tyb and I. Fuck it, he's not going to make me kick rocks, I knew that already.

"I'll think about it." That was all.
Tyb whirled around and walked out one of the doors. I followed, pulling my jeans up. Oh My God. I just came onto a guy with my pants around my ankles and I didn't notice in heat of the moment. 
Face, meet palm.

"You'll think about it? Thank you for giving consideration to bumping
uglies." We went down a short hallway, with three doors. He chose door number two. It lead to a staircase. The staircase led to another hallway, again with three doors. "Where are we?"

"In the treehouse proper.
And yes, I'll think about it." He stopped and turned to look at me, a puzzled expression on his face. "Why me?"

Dumbfounded, my mouth ran away with my tongue.
"Why you? Because you aren't going to hit me, for starters. You're honest, and I appreciate that. Why am I throwing myself at you? Don't know, but to tell the truth, on my part, it doesn't feel too bad. Except for the awkward conversations like this, part. Otherwise, just because. I mean, you can teach me to whittle, and I guess I can carve myself a dildo—what grit sandpaper would I need to assure I wouldn't get any splinters 
down there
?" I pointed as discretely to my nether region, relishing the crimson color infusing Tyb's face.

"You're going to be like this the whole time you're here?"

"Don't know yet. Do you want to find out?" I was more serious than not.

He swallowed again. "Not really. I'm not looking for strings, Izzy…"

"Me neither. Just got out of a relationship, you know. I don't want to put my head anywhere near something that can be used to tie me up." I winked. "I'm not a hussy, I swear."

"Never took you for one, Izzy."
Tyb took a step toward me, reached out and tilted my chin up so he could look me in my eyes. The mournfulness emanating from his gaze took me aback. "I'm up for fun, but nothing more than that. Don't expect flowers from me, or poems. I'm not that kind of man. If you want sex, I can do that, but as a roommate with benefits sort of thing. And only when we both agree. You have your room, I have mine. Are you on birth control?"

"I have a couple packs of pills."
Christos insisted I always travel with back up packs of pills, so I had no excuse for missing a dose.

"Okay. I ask because it's a far hike for a pregnant woman to get anywhere near the local hospital.
Can't risk you getting pregnant."

I nodded my understanding. It'd be hell to be snowed in, pregnant, and nearing time of delivery. There'd be no one to deliver a baby but
Tyb.

"You sure you want me?"
Tyb asked, his voice quiet in silent hall.

I bit my lip and whispered, "More than anything.
Can't get it off my mind."

He closed the distance between us, backed me up against the wall and began kissing the hell out of me. Every time his lips met mine, it felt as though electricity played pinball with my senses.
Tyb's callused hands grazed my neck, jawline, cheek, with feather-light touches.

I didn't mean to moan into his mouth with shameless need, but I couldn't resist the pleasure. His hands moved from my face to my collar bone, and then to my breasts. Through my shirt, he cupped and molded me in his hands. I shivered in anticipation as his whisker-roughened face moved to nibble kisses on my neck and behind my ear.
Tyb noticed my quivering under his touch.

"You want me to stop?"

"A thousand noes."

He smiled, reached for my hand and led me through a door. The room we were in had a bed and nothing else. Like the ones in the house, it was quilt covered. He led me through that door, to the bed side.
Tyb sat down and stood me between his open knees. Slowly, ever so slowly, he unbuttoned my shirt from top to bottom and kissed each inch of revealed skin.

This sensuous slowness drove me mad. My hands went for his jean's fly, fumbling with the belt. "Don't Izzy."

"Why?" I hoped he wasn't a touch-me-not like Christos.

"Because it's been a long time since I've been with a woman. I want to draw this out as long as I can."

I felt slick desire pooling in my panties. "You know, I'm up for a quickie and then taking our time once we get it out of our systems."

"Oh, woman, what you'll do to me…"

I smiled and bent to kiss his lips for a moment before stepping away to strip down to my birthday suit.

Tyb
got naked quicker than I did. Then I made a discovery that shook my world. In my inexperience, I thought Christos inordinately well blessed beneath the belt. I was wrong. Deadly wrong. That's like putting a stack of dimes next to a soda can. I gasped when I saw the length and breadth of Tyb's rock hard cock.

"How do you keep that in your jeans?"

"By thinking of jumping into the creek during winter."

"Is it going to fit?"

"Yes, but you're in the lead. I don't want to hurt you."

Now naked, I took the seat
Tyb provided on his lap. He sat reclined on his elbows while I climbed atop, only to kneel and slowly sink onto his shaft. Couldn't believe the tumescent cock 
not
 tearing me asunder. Once I had him fully encased within, I began rocking back and forth, grinding hard on him. Tyb's hands held onto my hips, while I leaned over him, my hands next to his head. His lips parted and eyes half closed, I couldn't resist. Bent down and kissed him. His grip tightened and he began to move my hips back and forth, with ever-increasing ferocity. I broke the kiss and moaned.

"Oh God, Oh God, Oh God…"

"Don't hold back, Izzy. Don't hold back."

I couldn't hold back if my life depended on it. I was to the point of no return, the point where the slightest movement would send me spiraling into the land of satisfaction. Then I could feel it… feel
Tyb, pulsating hard within me. He gave tiny thrusts until the pulsating took us both over the edge. The more he came, the harder the thrusted, and the more frenzied I fucked him back.

Best orgasm ever. Covered in sweat, I collapsed on
Tyb's chest. He put an arm around me, and it felt good. Fuzzy contentment reigned before I got my second wind.

Tyb
had his eyes shut, when I spoke in a whisper in between kisses on his chest.

"Okay. I'm ready for round two."

Chapter Eight

 

"Izzy, we have things to do."

Why yes, that is why I'm naked right now, lying between
Tyb's spread legs. 
Things. To. Do
. Like Tyb, although he's not a thing. But the huge one-eyed monster standing at attention, well, that just begged for consideration. "I want to 
do you
."

"You did me. Now we have to milk the goats before it gets dark." Amusement lurked in
Tyb's husky voice.

"I did you, so now it's your turn to do me. I believe in equality of the sexes." My audacious statement had
Tyb laughing.

"Here's what I propose. We do our chores, fortify ourselves with sustenance, and then hunker down in the house for the night. This treehouse is great and all, but the atmosphere is lacking."

Grey concrete walls devoid of windows reinforced Tyb's truth of our surroundings. "Okay. Then let's get going. I'm horny."

He laughed hard. Then again, so did I. Tried not to think what would happen when my stash of pills runs
out. I can guarantee me having protection against pregnancy for now being the deciding factor of Tyb giving me some dickin'. Oh, what dickin' it was, too.

We dressed and
Tyb showed me the way out of the treehouse that doesn't involve timers and self-shutting doors. A one-way door that will let people leave but won't let them in. It melded against the treehouse exterior, blending in so one wouldn't even notice. We walked back to the Mule, piled in, and headed off toward the goats.

I enjoyed traveling by Mule.
Got to see more of the landscape with forested hills and verdant meadows. A small creek snaked by the foot of some hillocks, cutting a swathe through the open spaces where grain grew and ripened beneath the sun.

Brad and Janet greeted us, tails wagging.
"Time to milk, go bring 'em in." Tyb spoke to the shepherds, who in turn, bounded off to flank the spread-out herd of goats and urge them toward the milking shed.

Tyb
opened the Dutch door, gathered his supplies and gave me a rundown of the milking procedure.

"First off, wash your hands and the goat's teat with this," he held up a package of antibacterial wipes. "You'll want to milk a squirt or two into the wipe, to clear out the nipple for milking. This stuff," this time, it was a spray can, "goes on after you milk. Helps keep bacteria out of the nipple because it takes about half an hour for it to close. Now, the goats sometimes won't stand still. If they step in the pail, that milk has to get chucked. Just toss it on the hill. It's a good fertilizer."

One by one, each of the goats got milked. For every one goat I did, Tyb did two. So, it went pretty fast and after I got over the initial embarrassment of grabbing another female's nipples in a quest for dairy goods, I got into the groove. Just didn't want to picture myself standing at a stanchion, head locked into place, munching peacefully at a bucket of oats while someone kept squeezing my boobs a nd playing with my nipples. Just don't think I had the fortitude. That says something about a goat, you know. They are freaks.

Tyb
lead me, buckets in hands, to the spring box—a building with a stone trough running on the inside of three walls. In the trough were cans, tall with narrow openings. Also inside the trough, fast flowing water. "We have to cool the milk as soon as we can. Prevents bacterial growth. The only bacteria we want are the ones associated with cheese."

"What types of cheese do you make?"

"Want to see?"

"Yes.
Oh, God yes."

Tyb
quirked an eyebrow. "A fan of frommage?"

"Big time."

He nodded, finished filtering and pouring the milk into one of the tall cans and telling me about the wonders of spring boxes. "My stream flow rate is about fifteen gallons a minute—not bad at all. So, I diverted a part of the stream to feed the trough. It exits and heads toward the meadow for irrigation."

That chore done,
Tyb led me back up toward the house. About ten yards from the house-hill, stood a building made of stones. No more than ten by eight, the way it fit into the natural landscape had its roof nearly level with the ground, with a rock staircase leading down into the chamber d' frommage.

After opening the heavy wooden door,
Tyb stood to the side and gestured for me to walk inside. A wonderland of cheese! Shelves lined with wheels of cheese covered the walls. He gave me the tour of his culinary achievement. "I made some cheddar, feta, camembert, got a pretty decent blue in the spirit of Roquefort, been trying to master manchengo."

"Is there anything you don't know how to do?"

"Yeah. Put me in a suit and drop me in the city, I'm pretty sure I'd get lost."

Although I tried not to venture down that mental alley, I couldn't help resist comparing
Tyb to Christos. While Tyb may think he'd be lost in the city, I'm pretty sure he'd find a way to escape to his hills before the sun had set. Christos… I don't think he could find his way from the hills and into the city within a week without a cellphone and credit card. The only thing I really didn't get about Tyb was how he survived so long devoid of socialization. Seventeen years is a long time.

"I'm heading up the house for a shower." I felt grimy and the incision on my butt was starting to ache now the anesthetic completely wore off.

"Okay. You can take your shower and I'll start dinner. You can finish dinner while I'm showering. Sound fair?"

"It does.
Although I'm not much of a cook. Just a heads up on that." He began to walk with me up to the house.

Tyb
sighed. "I mean no offense whatsoever when I ask, did you have any life skills outside the work place?"

"Define life skill." Yes, there was an edge in my voice.

"How did you survive?" That wasn't a definition, but I understood what he was trying to grasp.

"I got married right out of college. Lesson learned, okay? I didn't have to do anything because anytime I did do something it meant I wasn't being dependent upon my husband like a good little subservient wife. I grew up in a small
town, my friends weren't the farmer's kids. All I really needed to know was my clothes size and then, what topics not to mention within Christos's earshot lest I push him over the edge."

"So you were waited on hand and foot?"

"Pretty much. Really started resenting how I couldn't go anywhere without a chaperone, which went hand in hand with being in a gilded cage."

"I don't envy your past life."

"Me either." In reflection, it was empty. Christos wanted to domineer it, conquer and command it, leave no room for anything else.

An awkward silence crept forth to engulf us both. We made it to the front door and I opened it before
Tyb had a chance to act the gentleman. We went inside and like clockwork, Tyb made for the kitchen sink to wash his hands. Again, I wandered to the bathroom and got the shower going. While it heated up, I got into my stash of Lush goodies and whipped out some Karma soap. Spiced orange and patchouli, without out fail, makes me feel like sunshine.

I took my hot shower after checking the bandage on my butt.
Hardly any blood on it, just a thin line about half an inch long. Being that there was little blood, made me feel better about washing. While the soap's perfume besieged my senses, I thought about the quickie with Tyb.

Oh My God. I never thought I could orgasm so easily with very little stimulation, but the affect he has on me resulted just in that. He was tender, gentle. Looked down, and didn't see any new bruises.
Amazing. It wouldn't be hard to get spoiled by Tyb's attentions.

Wrapped up my shower and headed to my room, clad in nothing more than a towel.
Tyb's back was to me. Good thing too, otherwise the urge to flash him would have taken over.

I dressed in cut offs and a camisole, no bra. Time for comfy. Left my room and made a beeline for the kitchen.
Tyb stood at the stove, frying bacon.

"Sous chef, reporting."

Tyb turned and smiled. "Just in time. Fry the bacon. Then take the bacon out, and sauté the onions there," he pointed at the cutting board and about half an onion's worth of chopped up, eye-watering-flavor country. "When those are done, just chuck 'em in that salad bowl. Spinach salad tonight, with pork chops, apple sauce and baked taters."

Perhaps it's the mountain air that made me a ravenous beast. I did what was requested of me, had it done before
Tyb was out of the shower. So I set the table. As I placed the glasses, Tyb came out of the bathroom. He wore plaid pajama pants that rode low on his hips, highlighting the bones and musculature that made Tyb into a statue of sinew. He didn't need to work out—homestead was enough exercise for him to be sculpted into an art form. As he exited the lavatory, Tyb put on a white tee shirt, hiding his six pack.

For a moment there, I wanted to pull a Janet
Wiess and sing out, "I'm a muscle fa-an!" in protest of those abs being hidden away.

He strode over to me, his bare feet making slap-slap sounds on the hardwood floor. "How's dinner coming?"

"You tell me, 
capitan
."

So, he did, proclaiming it done.
Longest dinner ever, with the knowledge that round two still loomed. We ate in silence, cleaned up in silence. Then Tyb asked, "Want to watch a movie?"

"What do you have in mind?"
Porn? That'd be a nice ice breaker.

"What sort of flicks do you like?"

"Musicals."

He quirked an eyebrow.
"Musicals that involve corsets?"

"Yes.
Heels and thigh-highs, too. And Tim Curry." And so I smirked.

"So, that rules out
 
FernGully, Muppet Treasure Island,
 and 
Annie
. Rocky for the win."

"There's just something about a man in heels who knows how to rock '
em…"

"So, into Tranny porn?"

"Uh, not really. Just Tim Curry porn."

So, we went to his room and turned the oversized computer monitor toward the bed. He cued up Rocky Horror Picture Show and we sat on his behemoth of a bedstead, resting against flannel-covered pillows. It felt a little odd, being so near to a virile man who wasn't
Christos. Barely knew him, but what I did know of, I liked. A lot. Calm, logical, sexy, capable, intelligent, whimsical, kind… A world of color compared to the monotone shade of Christos.

"Why the sigh, Rocky not doing it for you?"

"He's still a sweet transvestite, but just got a lot on my mind. Last 24 hours finally catching up with me."

"It's been an interesting 24 hours."

"Yes, it has. Think I'm kinda in shock."

"It's possible. You okay, though?"

I liked that he asked. Maybe he just wanted to prep for possible waterworks. Maybe he actually gave a shit. Don't know, won't presume to know. "Yeah. Just trying to settle into the new me. Izzy. Don't even have a last name. Don't have a history. I'm me but not me. Can be anyone I want, I suppose. It's a new journey to find myself."

"Journeys are good for the soul. A decent journey will help shift your perspective in some matter, most likely totally unrelated to the reason for the journey."
Tyb obviously learned that lesson firsthand.

I turned to face
Tyb. "You know what would make Izzy feel like Izzy?" Because Selesta would 
never
 get away with such a thing?

"What is that?" Humor lurked in his eyes, warm and inviting like melted chocolate.

I didn't speak. Why break the silence with needless words when actions can convey so much more? I crawled onto his lap so that my legs were wrapped around him. "This." With excitement on my breath, I leaned in and kissed him. For a moment, his lips softened beneath mine, before firming up and taking the initiative. That's when I realized he held back earlier.

The passion flowing from his lips and into my being fueled a fire between my thighs. Whisker-roughened skin rubbed against my cheek and
Tyb whispered, "You're going to kill me before you embark on your new life, aren't you?"

Three quick kisses along his jawline to his ear, then I replied, silky-soft, "I hope not. It'd be a terrible way to repay your kindness."

"I don't want you repaying in sex."

"I'm not paying you with sex. I'm your farm minion now. The sex is my idea because I'm insatiably lustful where you are concerned. This voodoo that you do is some potent stuff."
Tyb's hands reached around to grab my ass. He was mindful of my incision, too.

"Don't hold back tonight. I want to see you full throttle."

"You might not like me full throttle."

He laughed. As in,
Tyb threw back his head and guffawed. "I don't know where you get that idea. I've been celibate as a monk for years. If you want to fuck my brains out, I say go for it. Tell me what you want and I'll make it so."

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