Cards of Love: The Hermit

by Cora Brent

  “Let me,” I begged, reaching down to free him from the confines of his jeans.

  But Jeremy was busy. His mouth closed over my right breast and I felt the vibration of his groan as he sucked first the right and then the left nipple before letting his tongue trail over the valley between them. His rough beard chafed my tender skin but I loved that too and I spread my legs wide, my hips bucking with an impatient will of their own. He didn’t make me wait any longer. Jeremy shoved his pants down, scooped his hands underneath my body and thrust into me so hard I cried out, not with pain, but with the simple shock of taking so much of him in at once.

  Jeremy froze and his expression was now anxious as he peered down at me. “Did I hurt you?”

  I shook my head and tightened my legs around him. “No. So don’t stop.”

  He grinned. I’d never seen a true smile from him before. I had to admit the sight of Jeremy’s smile melted my heart a little. But there wasn’t time to dwell on whatever was going on with my heart because I was consumed by what was happening to my body. I’d ordered him not to stop and he obeyed, pushing himself in deeper with every thrust, accelerating the rhythm until I could hardly stand it, and I didn’t want to come quite yet but I couldn’t stop my reaction. Every move Jeremy made sent me spiraling higher toward the brink. We fit together flawlessly and the chemistry between us was overwhelming.

  “Jeremy,” I gasped. “I’m gonna come already.”

  That drove him wild. He moved deeper, faster, raising himself up on his elbows like he wanted to watch my reaction. “I’ve wanted to make you fucking come since the first time I saw you.”

  And I was a goner. Somewhere at the end of all my moaning and writhing I was struck by the realization that we weren’t using any protection. Jeremy was one step ahead of me. He pulled out and I felt the warmth of him pulsing over my belly.

  He didn’t roll off me right away. We held each other in that sweaty pose for a few panting moments before he finally shifted positions. He searched out his shirt and mopped up my belly without saying anything. I wondered if he’d leave now. I hoped not.

  He didn’t leave. He curled his arms around me and let me get comfortable against his strong body. I ran my fingertips lightly over his skin as the minutes ticked away.

  This night was never supposed to be about starting something meaningful. I wasn’t fooling myself that we were on the cusp of some great love affair. We were just two people who needed something from each other. I took my hand away from Jeremy’s skin but he didn’t notice. He’d already fallen asleep. And in the morning, when he quietly dressed and then whispered my name as he bent over me I didn’t stir even though I was awake. I felt the fleeting touch of his hand on my cheek.

  “I’ll see you later,” he said and I felt sure that somehow he knew I could hear him. But only after the door had closed behind him did I open my eyes.

  “Yes, you will,” I said to the empty room.

  And I smiled.

  Chapter Eight

  JEREMY

  We didn’t have any awkward, “Hey, you want to fuck tonight?” conversations about what we were doing.

  The sun would go down and we’d find each other. And then we’d fuck twelve ways from Sunday. Not that we never talked. We talked plenty. She told me about the progress she was making in her work and she described the solitary life she’d led as a professor at a small college in Pennsylvania. It didn’t sound to me like she missed that life.

  I didn’t have as many exciting things to talk about. For the past five years my world had been very small and there just weren’t too many things to say about it. I told her what I knew about the motley collection of humanity populating these parts. She laughed over a tale of hip young New Yorkers who’d moved here with big ideas about starting a mini farm because they’d read an article about modern homesteaders. They knew nothing about growing food and certainly nothing about the challenges of growing crops in the desert. They planted the wrong things at the wrong time in the wrong place and complained to Betty Grable when they wound up with a pile of dead stalks. They lasted three months and then ran back to New York.

  Deirdre was interested in my book collection too. Every day she asked me what I was reading and what I thought of it. She liked to hear me read aloud and even though I felt weird about it the first few times I got used to it. She liked poetry and adored Shakespeare’s sonnets. She said I had the perfect reading voice and I didn’t know about that but I enjoyed the way she’d curl up beside me and listen so I’d happily read to her for as long as she wanted me to.

  So far we’d avoided talking about our most painful moments. She hadn’t volunteered any additional details about her family or about the mystery of her name. I wondered about her but I didn’t ask her those kinds of questions. If she regretted choking out that tearful confession then I wouldn’t make it worse by digging deeper. And while I told her a few things about growing up with my family in Tulsa I stayed away from any mention of the plane crash, or of the way I’d walked out of the cemetery and refused to look back. There were some words that would always hurt to say out loud.

  We’d been carrying on this way for about three pretty fucking incredible weeks when she appeared from around the hill just as the sun was dipping below the horizon.

  I stopped what I was doing and just watched her walk toward me, aware that something in my chest jumped at the sight of her. My dick might have jumped a little too. She was wearing a dress for once, a blue and white striped thing that molded itself to her hips and tits. I got to thinking about how it felt to grip those sweetly rounded hips in my hands before I pushed my way inside her. And then my dick jumped for sure.

  Deirdre flashed a smile when she saw me staring but then grew self conscious, looking down and crossing her arms over her body as she briskly covered the distance between us.

  “Don’t do that,” she said when she got close.

  I set my tools down and stood up. Lately I’d been trying my hand at woodcarving. I wasn’t half bad at it. “Don’t do what?”

  Her hair might have been tied up in a bun earlier but now it was coming loose. Her expression was stubborn behind her glasses. “Don’t stare at me with such intensity. It makes me nervous.”

  I said nothing. I didn’t take my eyes off her either. I just stood there motionless and continued to stare at her while thinking about dirty things. It looked like she wasn’t wearing a bra.

  “Jeremy,” she complained, blushing and kicking at the sand with the toe of her tennis shoe. “Quit pretending to be weird.”

  “I am weird. Where’d you get that dress?”

  She looked down at herself. Deirdre looked sexy as shit no matter what she wore but I had to admit the dress was a nice touch. I could see more of her legs and the neckline was low. Yeah, she definitely wasn’t wearing a bra.

  “I was feeling a little stir crazy sitting in front of my computer so I took a drive to the valley and found the Superstition Mall.” She smoothed the fabric. “I don’t usually wear dresses.”

  “I noticed.” I kicked my carving tools aside and took a seat on a rocking chair I’d found abandoned in the desert. It was a weird thing to find, a wooden rocking chair all by itself in the middle of nowhere. I’d carried it home, cleaned it off and fixed it up.

  Deirdre watched me sit down. I knew she wanted me to tell her I liked her dress, that I appreciated the effort she’d made before coming over here tonight. I’d rather show her.

  “Have a seat,” I said.

  She raised an eyebrow. “There’s only one chair.”

  “So?”

  “So it’s the one you’re sitting in.”

  I patted my lap. “I know.”

  She began to primly perch on my right knee but I made a move before she got the chance. I grabbed her around the waist, pushed my leg between her knees and slid her down until she was straddling me as the rocking chair pitched back.

  “We’re both going to fall off,” she warned but she still cooperated,
letting her dress ride up over her bare thighs as she positioned her knees on either side. I wondered if she’d left her panties at home with her bra.

  “No we’re not,” I said even though I wasn’t convinced the chair could hold our combined weight. Dusk was settling and a soft breeze was already cooling things down, making the evening as pleasant as an evening in the desert was capable of being.

  Deirdre smiled at me. The way her face was bathed in the light of the descending sun at that second made her look like an angel. An angel with spectacular tits. She settled her hands on my shoulders as the rocking chair steadied underneath us.

  “What did you do today?” she asked.

  “Fed the chickens, cleaned the coop, went for a drive and carved a stick into a snake.”

  She tilted her head. A tendril of dark hair escaped her messy bun. “Where’d you drive to?” she asked with curiosity. By now she knew that I never went far from this place if I could help it.

  “The bank.”

  “The bank?”

  “Cash still comes in handy for a few things and I was running low.”

  She nodded. I could tell she wanted to ask more questions. I’d never mentioned a thing about money to her. There was enough cash stowed away at Arizona First Bank to last for a long time. Darius was looking out for me back in the days when I couldn’t be bothered to look out for myself. He’d arranged for all my money to be wired out here and I only touched it to pay for the basics.

  I didn’t want to talk about money, not now or ever. My bank account balance made me feel a little sick, like money was something dirty. But no, that wasn’t it. I’d come from a family of hard workers and once I made it big I helped them invest in the furniture store they’d been struggling to keep afloat for a decade. There was a time when I thought money was a big piece of the happiness puzzle. I was wrong. Money couldn’t return my family to this world. And there was nothing else I really wanted.

  Deirdre forgot about whatever questions were on her mind when I slid my hands under her dress. She let out a breathy sigh and half closed her eyes as I explored the soft skin beneath the cotton fabric. She hadn’t left her panties at home after all. That was fine. I could work with that.

  “We should go inside,” she whispered, pressing her forehead against mine and stifling a cry of pleasure as my right thumb teased her outside her panties. The fabric was lacy, unlike her usual plain cotton underpants. She’d apparently gone shopping for more than a dress today. I liked that. I liked that she was feeling sexy enough to show off a little.

  “Jeremy,” she moaned as I kept my hand moving. I knew by now what she liked, how she liked it. “Come on, let’s go in the house.”

  Instead of arguing I slid my thumb under the elastic band and then inside of her. She stiffened and closed her eyes, biting her lower lip while her dress slipped from one smooth shoulder, getting me harder and giving me an idea.

  “What are you doing?” she whispered as I kept one hand between her legs and used the other to reach up and ease the other sleeve of her dress down. The fabric was soft and very pliable. I got it down far enough to uncover her tits before she knew what was happening.

  “It’s still daylight,” she objected but she didn’t stop me. She cooperated, allowing her arms to escape the dress and fall around her waist while she remained at my mercy. So what if the sky wasn’t dark yet? We were far off the main road and no one would be coming this way. There was no one to see except the damn chickens.

  I wanted to put my mouth on her skin but I liked watching her too much. She was going to come any second, writhing around on my hand while the rest of her hair came loose and fell over her bare shoulders and brushed the top of her tits. I wanted in so fucking badly that my dick was ready to bust my zipper open but I wasn’t going to interrupt this. She clutched my shoulders and shuddered, throwing her head back and making all kinds of noise about it as she came. This girl was magnificent. I couldn’t imagine that I’d ever get tired of looking at her. I kept my hand in place until I was sure she was finished achieving every scrap of pleasure.

  She got shy right away, sliding off my lap and hastily putting her dress back where it belonged and then fussing with her hair while I waited. Sometimes she was like that, as if she was embarrassed about something.

  “Leave it down,” I said and she looked at me with a question in her eyes. “Your hair. I like it down.”

  Deirdre pulled the clip out and allowed the waves to cascade over her shoulders. To my surprise she dropped to her knees and flashed a mischievous grin. “You like anything else to be down?”

  I was game. I settled back in the chair and unzipped. But I didn’t want her to scratch up her knees so I pulled off my shirt and set it on the ground so she could kneel more comfortably.

  Deirdre clucked her tongue. “Gallantry at its finest.” Then she bent forward and put her mouth on me.

  Saying Deirdre was good at sucking me off was like saying the sun in the desert was hot. Fuck, was she good. She took the time to tease with her tongue before letting every inch slide through her lips. I liked keeping my hands all twisted up in her long thick hair the whole time. She might have swallowed if I let her but I always pulled out and came on my hand. Until now. The instant my dick left her mouth, Deirdre shoved her dress down and and pushed her tits on me. So I came on them. I came all fucking over them.

  I’d been kind of surprised that Deirdre liked things dirty because early on I’d judged her as kind of prissy. But she’d proved otherwise every time we were together. She was playful and exciting and I liked being around her whether we were fucking or not. I had no idea what she thought of me. She’d never told me. Then again, I didn’t tell her what was on my mind either. Maybe we were both afraid this was turning into more than we ever bargained for.

  She squealed when I picked her up. This was already one of my favorite things to do; sweep her into my arms and carry her wherever I wanted. Judging from the way she clutched my neck and let out a happy sigh against my chest she enjoyed it too. The shower stall in my house was a tight fit for two people. I’d constructed it myself and never planned on bringing company inside. But there was enough room for us to rinse off at the same time. And there was enough room for a stand up fuck while the warm spray of the shower trickled over us. Afterwards I threw on some boxers and Deirdre borrowed a clean t-shirt that came down to the middle of her thighs. There was only one seat at my sorry excuse for a dining table so she sat in my lap again while we ate a simple dinner of cheese, sliced fruit and crackers.

  “Sorry I got sperm on your new dress,” I said after I swallowed a slice of apple.

  Deirdre smirked and pushed a curtain of damp hair behind one ear. “No you’re not.”

  She was right. But then I remembered I should tell her something I hadn’t told her yet.

  “You looked very pretty,” I said. “In your dress. I mean, you always look pretty but today you looked extra good.”

  I sounded like an awkward jackass but the comment pleased her. She smiled and popped a bite of cheese in her mouth. Her glasses were sitting on top of my narrow dresser, where she’d left them before we did some shower tricks. It was nice to see more of her face. I reached up and tipped her chin in my direction so I could kiss her. She had the softest lips.

  Deirdre wanted to stay here tonight even though my bed was narrower and less comfortable than hers. She pressed her cheek to my chest and I ran my fingers through her hair. Some of the strands were tangled and my finger got caught for a second before I worked it free.

  “I’ve been thinking about getting it cut,” she said and then yawned. The sky outside was pitch black now and the night was moonless.

  I snagged a giant fistful of her hair and tugged lightly. “Don’t you dare.”

  Deirdre let out a soft chuckle and said no more about cutting her hair. When she was still quiet after ten minutes I thought she’d dozed off but then she started lazily tracing a shape on my chest with the tip of her finger. I didn’t
know which shape. It wasn’t a heart though.

  “Jeremy?”

  “Hm?”

  “I want to ask you things.”

  I shut my eyes for a second. Deirdre had never asked me anything directly about the plane crash. Or about the career I’d thrown away. I didn’t know what we were to each other exactly but she was already important to me.

  I opened my eyes. “You can ask me whatever you want.”

  She hesitated and stopped tracing things on my skin. “Can I ask about Casey?”

  Casey.

  Even her name hurt. Casey Detwiler was my first friend, my first kiss, my first time for all the boy meets girl milestones. She was the pretty girl next door with a big heart who brightened every room she entered. There’d been a time when I was sure we’d get married some day. But I was just a kid feeling something for the first time. I hadn’t yet seen or done a thing in the world.

  After Darius started managing my career and I began racking up wins with all the attention that came with them, Casey and I would frequently break up. Then I’d come back home to Tulsa for a visit and we’d get back together. It never lasted and finally I couldn’t do that to her anymore so I ended it for good. I cared about Casey. I guess I even loved her in the way that friends with long histories did. I just couldn’t help the fact that I wasn’t in love with her. And she deserved better. After the plane crash, when the press mistakenly referred to her as my fiancé, I said nothing to correct our status. At the time I thought there wasn’t any point. Now I wondered if I’d dishonored her by failing to be honest.

  Deirdre propped herself up on one elbow and listened to me talk about Casey. She didn’t interrupt once. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had so much to say. Then again, it had been a long time since I had anyone to talk to.

  When I finally finished speaking an old and very familiar wave of grief washed over me. I heard my brother Kevin’s voice jokingly calling me ‘runt’ as he tried to get me in a headlock. It was a joke between us. I’d been bigger and stronger than him since I was fifteen. Yet I always let him take me down because he was my big brother and it seemed like the natural order of things. I saw my mother’s exasperated smile as she stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips, shaking her head over all the unruly boys in her life before she laughed and called us in to eat my favorite dinner of pulled pork sandwiches.