Three Alarm Tenant

by Christa Maurice

  “That took all day?”

  “Hey, if you can spend a whole day playing with hoses, I can spend all day playing with a calculator trying to figure out if Melina Diaz managed to scrape into an A.” She nudged him with her knee and went back to work on his ribs. At least, she decided, she had learned to breathe and think while sitting this close to him.

  “Did she?”

  “With a little help from her teacher. She missed the honest A by about two points, but she’s really picked up this last month of school, so I gave it to her.” Katherine worked her way toward his shoulders.

  “So, she got away from that little hoodlum?”

  “Her mother said she doesn’t think she’s been running around with him since the dance.”

  “You fought pretty hard for that one, didn’t you?” He sounded almost proud. Why would it matter to him if Melina Diaz managed to escape the cycle of poverty?

  “I fight pretty hard for all of them, some don’t rise to the challenge.”

  He took a deep breath, and she paused with her hands resting on his back. “Why?”

  “Why what?” she asked shifting a little so she could work out the rest of the kinks in his lower back. His skin felt warmer and more pliable now. She felt warmer and more pliable, too.

  “Why do you fight so hard? Why not give up?”

  “And turn into Darlene McConikee? No thanks.” Katherine shuddered, thinking about Darlene. Lately she’d been having nightmares about her between the nightmares about fire. Most of them involved suffocating.

  “Isn’t it possible to go in and do your job without forgetting what year it is?”

  Katherine concentrated on searching for remaining knots while she sorted out the question. “I guess it’s possible, but I still don’t want to be that kind of teacher. It’s not a job to me. It’s my duty to do my very best for those kids even when they don’t want me to. Especially if they don’t want me to. Those are the ones who need me most.”

  “Duty,” he repeated.

  “Jack,” she said. She started working along the last kinked muscle that swept from his lower back to the middle of his chest. “Let’s not get into a semantic argument about your job, my job, and the true meaning of duty right now. Okay?”

  He stiffened. “I’m not trying to start an argument. I never thought of it that way.”

  “It’s okay. I guess I’m a little oversensitive today.” She stroked her fingertips across his shoulders. “I lost one this year,” she murmured hoping he wouldn’t hear.

  “Lost one?”

  “Mark Hagood. Smarter than his grade,s but in the low functioning class. He could have been an honors student if he applied himself. But he had no intention of applying himself.” She started tracing along his shoulder blade, picturing the boy. Bright blue eyes, unruly black hair, towering over her by at least six inches. Clever enough to make the tests believe he was stupid but not handicapped.

  “What happened?”

  “He dropped out three weeks ago. I think I drove him too hard.” She remembered the first day Mark hadn’t shown up, less than a week after the dance. She’d gotten a memo in her mail box telling her to remove him from her class list as she left that night. Jack had been at a roofing job, so she’d related the whole sorry tale to Archer. Archer had tried his best to be a lap dog and had licked her face, but that hadn’t been quite what she’d hoped for. By the time Jack had come home, she’d recovered enough from her distress that she’d been too ashamed to abuse his friendship by crying on him.

  “Did you drive him too hard, or did he not rise to the challenge?”

  “Jack, you aren’t going to make me feel better about this one. Not yet. It’s too soon.” She smoothed her hand down his back to the waist band of his jeans. His skin felt so warm and welcoming under her hand.

  “So saying win one, lose one won’t help either, huh?”

  She smiled. He was trying awfully hard. At least two points extra credit worth. “Maybe a little.”

  “So can I ask you a question?”

  “Sure.” She traced her fingertips up his spine.

  “Are you done?”

  Katherine jerked her hand away from him. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

  “I was starting to feel like the dog.” Jack rolled over and sat up, rotating his shoulders. “Hey, that does feel better. You’re pretty good.”

  “Thanks.” She dropped her hands in her lap. “And thanks for reconditioning the back yard. I always meant to get around to it.”

  “To be honest Kate, I don’t think you weigh enough to handle the tiller. There were a couple of spots back there where I thought I needed a jackhammer.” He leaned against the chair, studying her.

  Katherine watched his eyes linger on her face. He had been so solid, so patient. This handsome man who seemed to be willing to wait around until she made up her mind. She remembered when he kissed her in her classroom after the dance. The way his arm had felt tugging against her, lifting her off the floor. The taste of his lips against hers. The hollow clack of her shoes as they fell off. The heady wildness of being literally swept off her feet in the room where she taught every day, and her perfect willingness for it to go on and on.

  Until Randy walked in.

  She rose up on her hands and knees, leaning forward. Then she paused, analyzing his face for any discouragement. He looked puzzled, but otherwise at peace with her crawling toward him. She put one hand on his bare shoulder to steady herself and kissed him.

  He drew a surprised gasp, but his arms wrapped around her, easing her into his lap. Her legs straddled his hips as she reveled in his soft mouth on hers. He pulled her tight against his chest. When she raised her lips from his she found she couldn’t go far, and didn’t want to.

  “Why, Ms. Pelham, I thought we were friends,” he whispered, keeping her tight against him.

  “We are friends. Very good friends.”

  He wove his fingers through her hair. “You don’t look anything like Harrison Ford.”

  “Lucky for you.”

  “Indeed.” His grip on her waist relaxed, but she didn’t move away. “There’s no one here to interrupt us. Archer’s even outside.”

  “I know.” She brushed her fingertips down his chest, watching his flesh pebble. Her mind, for once, seemed to be functioning with perfect clarity. This, right here, was all she needed. Making it work seemed simple. His breath brushed across her cheek. The afternoon sun through the window picked up light stubble on his chin and his pulse throbbing against his throat. His eyes never left hers, devouring her.

  His hand skimmed through her hair and down the curve of her back. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”

  “More or less beautiful than Harrison Ford?”

  Jack traced his fingers along her jaw. Then he kissed her throat to the collar of her blouse. She sighed. When he leaned back again, he gazed at her. Heat rose through her body. His eyes seemed dark and serious. She wondered what he was looking for.

  “Jack?” she whispered.

  “Yes.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Just admiring you.” He moved his hand around her waist until it rested on her thigh. The weight of it brought Katherine’s temperature up a few more degrees. The fact that his thumb rested on the seam inside her thigh threatened to make her spontaneously combust. She knew he wasn’t unaffected by their relative positions. His hard length pressed against her leg not all too far from where his thumb rested.

  “Is that all you had planned?” she asked.

  He paused for a long moment, looking at her. Studying her face and her body pressed close to his. “I’m not planning anything. I’m letting you lead.”

  “Oh. I didn’t know.” She reached for the buttons of her blouse. “Maybe you should have told me sooner.”

  His eyes seemed to get darker as he watched her undo her buttons. When she’d unfastened her blouse, she dropped her hands away, leaving it hanging closed.

  Jack br
ushed her blouse off her shoulders, barely touching her. Closing her eyes and leaning her head back waiting for his hands to touch her bare skin, shivering as his fingers grazed her. He untucked it with agonizing slowness. Katherine felt the material sliding out of her jeans. He lifted her blouse away and dropped it to one side. Fortunately the lack of clean laundry had forced her to wear one of her fancier bras today. He stroked his hands over the lacy embroidered cups. Her nipples pinched under his touch. Then he reached behind her and undid the hooks of her bra, leaving it hang from her shoulders for the moment. “Are you sure this is what you want?” he asked.

  “Yes, this is what I want.” She leaned forward and kissed him again. He responded hungrily as her thighs tightened around his waist, his naked chest rubbing against hers. Carrying her with him, he stood up. She squealed and giggled. “Is this the firefighter’s carry?” she asked.

  “No, we’ll try that another time.” He carried her through the hall to his bedroom. Pressing her face into the curve of his neck, she breathed his scent and felt his powerful shoulders with her lips. For a long moment after he set her on his bed, he leaned over her, cradling her cheek in his hand before hooking his fingers around her bra strap and pulling it free. He knelt on the bed next to her, not touching her for a moment.

  Katherine stretched in what she hoped was a seductive manner, raising her arms above her head. His eyes on her had the quality of a physical touch. She could see the effect looking had on him. His hands followed after his eyes, tracing her collar bone and down to cup her breast, sweeping his thumb along the edge of her areola. She moaned as the spike of heat shot through her body.

  Jack leaned down, kissing where his fingers had caressed. She arched up to meet his lips, but he pulled back, working his way along her collarbone and down her torso with light, grazing kisses. Katherine gasped, clutching the sheets of his bed.

  His lips found her nipple and, with one hand cupping her breast, he closed his mouth over the tense spot. “Please, Jack,” she moaned, shivering.

  As he lifted his head to look at her again, breathing in harsh gasps. He covered her mouth with his, probing and tasting. His hand closed over her breast, then glided down her body to the waist band of her jeans. When his fingers reached the closure he couldn’t seem to close them over the button. Growling, he leaned away from her to try and see what he was doing.

  “My dear, you seem to have your very own chastity belt courtesy of Levi’s.” He grumbled, still unable to get the button to slip through the button hole.

  “I shall send them a letter of complaint.” Reaching down she loosened the button. “Or maybe I’ll just tell them my boyfriend has butterfingers.”

  “Butterfingers, hmm? Let’s see.” He eased her jeans and underwear over her hips and off her legs, flinging them to the far side of the room.

  “How decisive of you.” Katherine swallowed against what she first thought was panic, but then realized was raging desire. It had been so long since she had felt this much stark need and had seen the same desire in her partner that she didn’t recognize it immediately. Closing her hands around his biceps, she tested them. Hard without being unyielding. There was some symbolism there too.

  “Hmm.” He leaned over her, trailing his hand down her body, leaving fire in its wake. His fingers roved down the outside of her thigh and up the inside.

  * * * *

  Jack watched Katherine close her eyes and draw a deep shuddery breath. He touched her in her most sensitive spot. She stiffened, making a breathy moan. Stroking her deliberately, he enjoyed the way her body reacted. Every inch of her ivory skin had developed a noticeable blush. Her auburn hair fanned out across his pillow and spread further with each helpless motion as she shifted against his hand. The scent of her desire coiled through his mind and only with a very tight rein could he keep command over himself.

  When she crawled into his lap, it had taken every shred of control to not throw her down on the floor and make love to her. But he’d invested too many months and too much patience to screw it up now. He didn’t just want her for now. He wanted her now and forever, but he still wasn’t sure she wouldn’t freeze up again. Even after all this time, after all his patience, he couldn’t be sure she wanted this and she wasn’t going to dart away. All the usual rules were off.

  Heightening his pressure on her, he allowed his other hand to caress between her breasts, up her neck and along her parted lips. She took one of his fingers into her mouth. Her tongue glided around it as she sucked.

  He took his finger from between her lips and covered her mouth with his own. Reaching for him, she ran one hand up his leg until it found his hard shaft. Her fingers worked on him through his jeans until he groaned against her mouth.

  She turned to escape his insistent kiss. “Are you still waiting for me to lead?”

  “What?” He paused, his fingers still pressed between her hot, slick thighs.

  Her hand shifted to the waistband of his jeans, and she started toying with the button. “Are you still waiting for me to lead?” Her nimble fingers had no trouble unbuttoning his fly.

  “Are you sure this is what you want?” he asked when his head had cleared enough to remember why he’d been letting her lead in the first place. There was still time to pull back. The shower was only a few feet away and there was plenty of cold water. He didn’t want to hurt her any more.

  “Make love to me, Jack. Please.”

  “Well, since you said please.” He stood up and turned away, rubbing his hand though his hair in an effort to put order to his mind.

  “It’s much easier to do this when you're on the bed with me.”

  He looked back over his shoulder. She had sat up, curling her legs under her with her sunlit hair draped all around her. The motion didn’t seem to be intentional, but that didn’t matter. Jack’s body reacted anyway. For a split second he almost forgot what he was looking for and went back to bed and to her. But if he'd moved away from her in the first place, it must have been important. Something so important he’d stopped touching her to walk across the room. But what was that important?

  “We need a condom.” Turning away from her, he was confronted by her reflection in his dresser mirror. He groaned. Had there ever been a woman so beautiful? Not sitting on his bed waiting for him. Forcing himself to look down at the drawer he'd pulled open, he pawed through his underwear and socks more irritated by the moment. It had to be here some place. He’d bought a new box when he moved in.

  Katherine stretched sideways across the bed. “You’re cold.”

  “No, I’m not,” he mumbled. He’d always considered warehouse fires in August hot, but that had nothing on the heat he felt now.

  “No, I mean you’re not going to find them there.”

  “Why?” he asked. As he reached to open the drawer below it, he glanced in the mirror again. She had rolled over onto her back across the middle of his bed intuitively knowing which poses were most likely to drive him wild.

  “Because they’re in the built-in cabinet.”

  He growled and yanked open the door of the cabinet. The box sat in the back corner behind a framed photograph of his family, on top of a paperback novel. Grabbing one of the foil packets he turned back to the bed.

  She waited with one hand out, still stretched across the bed with her hair wreathed around her face. “Let me help.”

  He swallowed to keep himself from whimpering. It had been a while. After four months of foreplay, he didn’t have much control at all. The condom nearly slipped through his nerveless fingers and onto the floor as he passed it to her.

  She sat up and hooked her fingers through his belt loops to bring him closer. Unzipping his jeans, she shoved the material out of the way. Before slipping the condom over him, she traced her fingers down his length, holding his eyes to hers while she did. A beautiful, secret smile played around her lips while she unrolled the condom over him. When she let him go, his knees buckled, and he had to catch himself on the bed.

 
But she had her arms around him, pulling him down on top of her. Her legs parted to welcome him and her thighs pressed against his hips. She moaned as he entered her. Covering her mouth with his, he moving inside her with long powerful strokes. He wanted to tell her he loved her and would take care of her. She would be loved, protected forever now. To promise her she would never be alone again.

  But he was afraid.

  He caressed her, memorizing the satiny texture of her flesh, afraid he would never again have the opportunity to feel her around him this way. This might be his only chance to drink in her throaty moans and cries, or watch her beautiful face transfix with pleasure. He drowned in the touch, taste and sight of her.

  He thrust into her, glorying in the way her body moved with his. Pulling him deeper and higher. Drawing out need and desire, making them marvelous. He would never be able to survive without her now. Whatever happened after this instant, he was committed to her body and soul. Whether she would have him or not.

  “Oh Jack,” she whispered. The sound of her voice pierced him. Her body shuddered and her fingers dug into his back as she tightened around him.

  His own climax crashed around him. He rode the tide of sensations until they beached him, leaving him exhausted and drained. For a few moments, he lay on top of her unable to think straight enough to move. When he did shift to one side, she made a mewling sound, following him and curling her body against his. He touched her hair, admiring the sleek texture of it and wondering what to say now. If he told her he loved her, would she run? If he didn’t, would she be hurt?

  “That was some back rub,” he whispered.

  “I’ll say. It even relaxed me.” She pressed herself against him, bending her knee and wrapping one leg across his. “Kind of amazing really.”

  “What?” Curling a lock of her hair around his finger, he admired the color of it.

  “Well, how often is it you spend months dreaming about something and it ends up being better than you imagined?”

  “Are you trying to butter me up for more yard work?” He kissed the top of her head.