Restless Spirit (6 page)

‘Sure I can’t walk you up?’ he asked, putting the truck in park.

‘I’m sure. I need a shower then I need to call Irv and see if he needs me to work today.’

‘And if he doesn’t?’

I shrugged. ‘I’ll write.’

‘That’s right. You’re the writer.’

I shook my head. ‘Only in my imagination and apparently my Nan’s.’ I got out, clutching the bag of berries. ‘Thanks for rescuing me.’

‘I’d rescue you any day of the week,’ he said. ‘Come pick berries tomorrow?’

I imagined us picking berries. And somehow it ended with us rolling around covered in squished berry juice, fucking. I tilted my head down to hide my red face.

‘Sure. If I don’t have to work.’

‘Give me your phone.’

I handed it over and watched him push a bunch of buttons. Then he handed it back. ‘I’m in there now. Come here.’

I never thought about denying him. I leaned over the seat and let him take my face in his hands. He kissed me softly and then ended with a nip of my bottom lip that made me jump a bit and gasp.

‘Call me.’

‘I will.’

He drove off and I stood in my driveway. To one side the barn. To the other, across an expanse of lawn was Shepherd. Was he watching? Did he see? Was he angry?

I needed a shower and to think. I hobbled inside and put the berries in the fridge. I shucked my clothes and climbed into the shower.

When I got out, I threw on leggings and Shepherd’s jacket. I’d made up my mind.

Chapter Nine

He was in the barn working on the lawnmower.

‘I need a favour.’

Adrian looked up and grinned. ‘Good morning to you, runner girl. I saw you take off. Good run?’

‘If you call an almost twisted ankle a good run.’

‘What do you need?’

‘The door to the storage room is stuck. Can you get it open?’

‘You should have just called me if your ankle’s hurt.’

‘Didn’t punch it into my phone,’ I said, shrugging. I started limping to the house so he’d have to follow. And yes, I exaggerated it a bit. It would make the whole outcome better, I thought.

Damsel in distress. Adrian ate that kind of shit up.

Halfway to the house, he laughed suddenly, danced in front of me, bent low and scooped me up.

‘Adrian,’ I hissed. My first thought being a watching Shepherd.

But he kept laughing and jogged to the house, jostling me in the fireman carry he was using. ‘You were taking too damn long, slow poke.’

He took the steps fast and I shut my eyes to avoid vertigo. In Nan’s room, he set me on my feet and steadied me until the world stopped moving. His eyes were dark and kind and I could tell he wanted to kiss me. Instead, he tucked my still damp hair behind my ears and said, ‘I’ll fix that door.’

‘About the door–’ I leaned against the bed and watched him.

He turned the knob and opened the door. ‘The door appears fine,’ he said, cocking an eyebrow at me.

That look of his made my stomach hot and my pussy hotter.

‘I … um … yeah.’

Adrian was in my face then. Smiling, his eyes sparkling and as I watched, his nimble hand reaching toward me. A gentle line of fire raced along my skin when he touched me, tracing my clavicle with just a fingertip. The touch of his skin to mine so subtle it was as if I were imagining it.

Back and forth, back and forth. I was the cobra in the basket. But then he went from clavicle to belly button and the startled muscles in my belly flickered and danced. ‘Do you need something from me, Tuesday?’

Heat and moistures pooled in my panties and I shifted a little. Cleared my throat. ‘I do.’

That finger ran up and down, up and down, drawing an unseen zipper on my stimulated skin.

He leaned in and kissed me softly. His tongue tracing my lower lip, mimicking his finger. ‘What do you need?’

‘I’m worked up,’ I confessed.

‘Are you, now?’

‘I am.’

I let him push his hand into my leggings and my slippers whispered on the hardwood floor when I spread my stance. He found me instantly, zooming right in to those tender, agitated nerve endings that needed his touch.

‘Do you need me to fuck you?’

I shook my head. That wasn’t what I wanted. There’d been tons of fucking, and the consideration of even more with Reed this morning. I wanted to mess around. I wanted fast and easy. A release. ‘No. I just want to get off.’

I could say that to Adrian. There was an honest ease with him. I could ask him to take care of business and he got it.

‘Ah, you want to get off. What if I want to get off with you?’ he asked, pushing me back.

I ripped at the buttons of his jeans with shaking hands. ‘I think we both can get off.’

‘I think you need to lie down, Tues. Your poor ankle.’ He grinned at me and the Big Bad Wolf sprang to mind.

‘I think so.’

Adrian shed his jeans with serpentine ease. The boxer shorts went next and I chewed my lip to see his hard cock standing at attention. For me. The power of arousing a man never failed to startle me. There was such raw joy in seeing another person’s naked need. Their desire.

I reached for him and he stepped into my touch. His cock smooth and warm in my hand.

‘Lose the tights,’ he said.

‘They’re leggings.’ I grinned.

‘Whatever. I don’t care if they’re just really tall socks. Take them off.’

I released him just long enough to shimmy free of the black fabric and the tiny red panties underneath.

‘I like it better when you go bare under there.’

‘I’ll remember that.’ I sighed because he was already covering me with his strong body. His head dipping between my legs to taste me, his own legs straddling me so I barely had to crane my neck to take his cock into my mouth.

His mouth was soft at first and he licked gently because Adrian knew it made me crazy. I could tell he liked torturing me. I thrust up under him but he clamped his hands to my hipbones and held me. Forced me down flat and at his mercy. I couldn’t move and I had to just let him – let him have his way with my pussy.

‘Behave, Tues or I might have to get back to that pressing matter of a lawnmower.’

I sighed and concentrated on sucking him into my mouth. I licked up the back of his cock and nudged his balls with my nose. Adrian stilled and I heard him inhale a great shuddering breath. I laughed. ‘Hey you pinned me down. I can play that game.’

I ran my lips, slightly parted, along the side of his shaft before dropping a proper kiss on the tip of his cock. Then I ran my lips, wet and pliable for him, back up the other side. When I thumbed the small slit in the head of his cock and sucked his balls gently into my mouth, one at a time, just to give him some torture in return, Adrian drove his face back between my thighs to eat me in earnest.

‘Jesus, woman,’ he sighed and sucked my clit hard enough that tiny little sparkles of white light firecrackered behind my closed eyelids.

‘Jesus right back at you, stud,’ I sighed.

I licked the letter W into his balls and then reversed it for the letter M. For whatever reason the sensation of that drove most men to near madness.

Adrian was no different. He thrust his fingers into me, pushing against my G-spot with drenched ease, thanks to my arousal and his mouth. When he returned his tongue to me, licking roughly, I started to come. That first flickering spasm that made me go tense under him as I sucked harder.

I was trying to time this in tandem. I needed to give as much as I got here. Reed had left me flustered and confused. Shepherd had left me soothed and horny and needy. Adrian just flipped my switch.

I worked him with my hand and my tongue and he swirled wet circles around my clit before kissing it gently. It was the gentle kiss, the shy suction on that tiny organ that did me in.

I came, squeezing him with my spit-slick fist and he came. I did my best to drink some of him in but he was too much and the salty white fluid baptized my face and my hair and I was laughing and coming all at once.

Adrian collapsed on me and rolled and then we were laying head to foot on my grandmother’s pretty quilt.

I sat up pushing my sticky hair away and grinned.

‘Does your ankle feel better?’

‘It does.’

‘Are you trying to kill me?’ He pushed his reddish brown hair back and blew out a big breath. His cheeks were rosy and his eyes were shiny and I touched the tip of his cock to watch him jump.

‘Not at all. You’d be no fun dead. You wouldn’t be able to do that dead.’

‘Fuck, Tuesday, I’d come back from the dead to do that.’

‘I have to call in now,’ I said. I got on my knees to kiss him. ‘Thanks.’

‘No problem, pretty girl.’ He grinned. Behind the grin seemed to be a tiny hint of something more, though.

As long as Adrian didn’t get attached we’d be fine.

He left and I washed my face and brushed my teeth and pulled my hair back into a messy knot and arranged my bangs. They were just a bit crunchy in the front and I smiled at myself in the mirror. I liked having little secrets.

In the storage room that Nan had converted into an attic of sorts, I found a trunk with some of Nan’s old clothes in it. Sweaters and a few dresses and balls carved from cedar to keep moths out. I even found a pair of brown suede boots that came almost to my knees.

‘Score,’ I said, pulling them on. Perfect fit.

I walked to the front window and looked down into the yard. By the barn, Adrian was giving the lawnmower a test run. He glanced up toward my room I think. He didn’t know I could see him or that I was at a different angle.

Shepherd walked out and climbed in his truck. When he backed up to get on the road, he spared a glance toward my house. He was going to the school he’d said. Maybe I’d drive out and see him. I could take him lunch.

I rotated my ankle and the small bit of fringe on the boots swayed joyously. No pain. Seemed all I needed was an orgasm and some endorphins. I grabbed a sweater and a vintage top of Nan’s and shut the door behind me.

I had a lunch to pack, I decided. And a big strapping man to visit. A surprise would be nice for my soul, I thought. It would be good for both of us to have a little spur of the moment chat and nibble. No sex to complicate it. I could ask him why he hated Reed and he could tell me it was none of my business.

I hurried downstairs.

Chapter Ten

Thanks to Nan’s magical pantry I was able to make nice submarine sandwiches with crusty rolls I found in the freezer. While they warmed in the toaster oven I found roasted red peppers and artichoke hearts, olives and pepperoncini. Some hard pepperoni was on the second shelf and I chopped off some nice slices to add to the veggies. Parmesan cheese from the fridge (it lasts forever) and some Italian seasoning.

‘Tada,’ I whispered to myself. Then I found a bag of chips and a six-pack of soda. Some cookie dough sat beckoning me in the freezer. Long homemade rolls of raw dough wrapped in wax paper and clear wrap. Each was neatly labelled with Nan’s handwriting.
Butterscotch Oatmeal Raisin, bake at 350 for 10-12 minutes.

So I did. I cut nice clean discs of cookie and put them on the toaster oven tray.

I realised the heady smell of sex was coming off of me so while they baked, I hopped in the downstairs shower. The first floor bathroom had a toilet, a sink and a shower stall, no tub. I didn’t owe Shepherd anything, or even Adrian for that matter, but I didn’t want to show up to meet him smelling of another man. It was just … rude.

Unless he was into that sort of thing. The thought made me snort and I said aloud, ‘But you don’t know yet, do you? So show up clean and smelling of …’ I glanced at the shower gel. Lilacs and cotton.

Who thought up these scents anyway?

I’d washed my body but left my hair dry. I towelled off and the toaster oven dinged just as I walked in. ‘I should have a theme song. I’m that good.’

I packed all the other crap in a picnic basket – yes, God bless my Nan, she actually owned one – and when the cookies were cool enough to put in a shallow dish I packed those too. But I left them uncovered so they could cool. Plus the bonus of spreading fresh baked cookie smell wherever I went.

The sky was getting just a bit overcast as I climbed into the Grenada. Welcome to fall at the lake. I backed out and got way down the road toward town when I realised I had no idea where the school was.

I pulled over by an idling mail truck and gave him a short honk of the horn. The mailman tossed me a wave and leaned across to his open Jeep door. ‘Can I help ya?’

‘I’m new here, well, I’m new as a full-time resident, and I was wondering if you could tell me where the elementary school is.’

He grinned. ‘Virginia Cane’s granddaughter. Wednesday is it?’

‘Close.’ I laughed. ‘Tuesday.’

‘Right, right. I’m Ben Mitchell your mailman extraordinaire. But anyhow, you know where the bank is?’

‘Sure. Right across from Irv’s Eats. My new employer, FYI.’

‘Ah, congrats! Best corn chipped beef in the world. My Sunday breakfast every week.’ He rubbed his hands together as if anticipating his next dose of that good stuff. ‘Anyway, if you go past Irv’s, take your first right on to Poplar Land and you’ll see the school from the road. You’ll be able to tell just where to go from there. Follow the American flag.’

‘Thanks for the help.’

Ben sniffed the air and I snickered softly. ‘You smell like cookies, little miss.’ He had greying hair, sharp green eyes and high cheekbones. His skin was ruddy from being in the sun so much. I wondered if Nan had a thing for him too. I saw no wedding band.

‘No, I smell like Lilacs and cotton. These cookies smell like cookies.’ I popped the lid and snatched two still-warm cookies. I held them out to Ben and he stretched even further to get them.

He smelled one. ‘Are these Virginia’s Butterscotch Oatmeal Raisins?’ he sighed with audible lust.

‘They are.’

He bit into one and said, ‘She used to make these for me all the time.’ Then he blushed.

‘Thanks again.’ I waved and rolled up my window before I laughed out loud. ‘Oh, Nan,’ I said, following the road to town. ‘You dirty, dirty girl. Good for you.’

I pulled into the school just as final buses were pulling out for the day – they must have had a short day because it was only 1.30. Days went fast when you were settling into a new town, a new house, a new life. And new men.

I parked by Shepherd’s truck and took the basket to the front door. I rang the buzzer, asked for the auditorium Shepherd Moore and the disembodied female voice told me to go straight and make two lefts. The auditorium was marked.

The echoes of my boot heels chased me down the hallway. When I walked into the gaping space of the auditorium I froze. I felt tiny and exposed. I felt naked.

‘Hello?’ I practically whispered.

‘Hey, there Tuesday,’ came his warm gruff voice and my body responded by rippling with energy.

I followed his voice. ‘I brought you food.’

‘Come on up. Hurry. I’m starved.’

I stopped, squinting against the stage lights in my face. But behind the light all was dark. I couldn’t see him but I could hear him. Varnish fumes were in the air but not overpowering. I started up the steps clutching my basket like Dorothy going down the yellow brick road. Or Little Red Riding Hood walking into the wolf’s lair on the way to Grandma’s house.

‘Keep coming, Tuesday,’ he said and then chuckled. Shepherd was being dirty on purpose, I knew it and yet I still reacted. A ribbon of arousal uncurling deep in my belly and filling my womb. My pussy was swollen and ready and that was just from his damn voice.

I climbed and out of the darkness a hand grabbed my thigh and I started but then laughed. ‘There you are.’

‘Here I am.’

That strong hand pulled me down and I found myself sitting in his lap. With the lights out of my eyes, I could see his shadowed face. We were now in darkness looking down on the lit rows of chairs below.

It was like being hidden in plain sight.

‘Hi,’ he said and kissed me. Forcing his fingers into my hair, holding my head, kissing me hard. A pleasurable sound rumbled in his chest. The kiss was possessive and rough and aggressive and … perfect.

‘Hi,’ I gasped, pulling back. I sucked a deep breath into my lungs and managed, ‘I brought you food.’

‘So you said.’ His fingers zeroed in to find my nipples – hard and sensitive – through the soft, worn navy blue pullover I wore. No bra underneath so when he stroked my breast, he rubbed the cotton over my sensitive nipples and I hummed.

God, what a needy sound. But I didn’t care.

‘I did. Sandwiches, chips, soda and–’

‘Cookies.’ Fingers rushed up under my shirt and goosebumps blazed along my skin where he touched. His palm skated the flat of my belly and up between my breasts. His fingers fanned out to cover the part of my breast above my crazily beating heart.

‘Yes, cookies.’

‘Is it wrong to want you more than food right now?’ he asked, looking like some beloved villain from a comic book in the crazy light. ‘Is it wrong that all day all I’ve had in my head is the memory of fucking you?’

‘That’s not wrong,’ I managed. My tongue didn’t want to work properly when I tried to talk but when he kissed me it felt just right.

‘Good. What do we have here?’ Shepherd tugged the waistband of my leggings and they gave.

‘Stretchy pant kind of deals.’

He shoved both hands down the back and groaned when he found me bare under there too. The navy pullover was long enough to cover my hips so I’d gone without panties. ‘Take them off. One leg at least.’

‘Here? My God, we can’t,’ I said. But I was already straddling him, facing him, letting him cup my ass in his big working-man hands.

‘No one’s here. Kids are gone for an early dismissal. Plus staff and students are banned from this area during renovation anyway. Safety first.’ He squeezed my ass hard enough to make me wriggle and squirm. ‘Too many fumes and a scary handyman.’ He chuckled.

‘But still anyone could ...’

He tsked. ‘You are a city girl. Denise and Monica are in the front office with Principal Barns and that’s that. And they follow the rules to a T. If they want me they page me on the overhead or call my cell.’

He pushed a hand in the front of my leggings and slid a finger into me. I held my breath. When he flexed that finger and found my clit with his thumb, I blew it out and shivered. ‘Yeah?’

‘Yes, ma’am. One leg out. Do it.’

Who was I to argue? I moved around to get one leg free, thanking the gods of Lycra for letting me get the legging out of my boot and then over my boot. I listened to the rustle and snap of a condom being opened and donned and when he grabbed me by my hips – one bare, one clothed – I went so fucking willingly it was ridiculous.

‘Come here, sweet Tuesday,’ he muttered.

I straddled him again, not letting him enter, just pressing us together so we both sighed. ‘I came here to feed you,’ I said. I wanted my intentions clear, which was comical.

‘You will feed me.’

I rolled my hips and took the kiss he pressed to my lips. ‘I made a really nice lunch,’ I moaned as he thrust his tongue into my mouth.

‘I bet. And you’re feeding me right now, too,’ Shepherd informed me.

‘How so?’

He slid a hand between us and moved his cock so I could align with him. I sank down slowly, inch by inch. We were eye to eye though it was so dark his eyes looked like black pools of nothing under a strong brow. ‘You’re feeding my soul,’ he said.

I waited for him to laugh and when he didn’t, something in my chest shifted and I had to look away. Just fucking. I had to remind myself. That’s all it was – fucking.

I lowered myself quickly to break the spell and it worked, his eyes slammed shut, his fingers digging into my skin. When I was speared on him, I moved slow and easy, torturing us both and making it all that much sweeter.

‘I’m glad you came.’

‘I’m glad I came.’

Sharp pain flared and I felt his teeth dig into the thin skin along my shoulder. Before the throb could start he soothed it with his tongue and I rocked forward and then back. Finding my rhythm and that perfect pressure on my clit. When he nipped me again, I came. A long slow, wet spasm that shut my mind down. Blindly I found him with my mouth, kissed him hard. His beard rough against my cheek, his tongue hot as it warred with mine.

I moved faster, finding his tempo and keeping up. I wanted him to come. I wanted to feel the bulk of him go taut and still with his orgasm. I wanted him to want me more than food, more than talk, more than air.

I was discovering that when it came to Shepherd, I just wanted him.

He pinched my ass cheek hard enough for me to hiss and I surprised us both by growling. ‘Fuck. Do it again.’

I ground my body against him, gripped his shoulders in my hands before moving them to tug his hair. ‘Jesus,’ he rasped and pinched me again.

This time when I came, his hands clamped down on my hips, anchoring me so I couldn’t move away. He thrust up hard under me and came with a stifled roar. My knees were pinched painfully in the back of the theatre seats. Thank God they were roomy because we were wedged in there good and the way we were moving together, I wondered if we’d ever pry free.

Which made me laugh. So there we stayed, forehead to forehead, breathing heavy as the rush of it all passed a little. ‘Hi, Tuesday.’ He grinned.

‘Hi, Shepherd. Hungry?’

‘Starved,’ he said. I found my pant leg and he helped me get my leg back through before getting himself put back together.

‘Now, let’s eat,’ I said, and dropped into the seat next to his. Below us the empty theatre was big and bright and somehow golden.