A Frickin' Fantastic Friday (The Zelda Dairies Book 3)

by Olivia Gaines

  His lips met hers with energy, need, and desire as his tongue probed inside her mouth, tasting her.

  “Scott,” she moaned, placing her arms around his neck.

  Those were his only words as he removed his jacket, allowing it to drop to the floor. Anxious hands tugged at his tie while Zelda reached for his belt, unfastening it, unzipping the pants, yanking them over his hips. Pushing the flowers to the tufted bench which sat at the foot of the bed, he could not move fast enough to take off his socks and shoes. The shirt was flung in one direction, the undershirt in another as he quickly removed the underwear and climbed into bed.

  “Sorry,” he said as he grasped the lacy fabric which Zelda considered underwear. One swift tug and they were ripped, thrown to the side as thick fingers probed, delved and tested the slick opening. Scott licked his finger, moaning as if he was tasting the Ambrosia of the gods. With one hand, he lifted her svelte frame, repositioning her on the bed as he rolled over, his body on top of hers. Sliding the bulk of his body’s weight between her legs, he positioned himself, pressing forward, feeling the heat engulf the mushroomed shaped head.

  “Ohhh, you feel so good,” she whimpered, moving under him, ready for more.

  He held his position, not going any further as he reached around the bed, feeling for the nipple clips, handing them to her. Zelda slowly added one after the other to his chest, but he wasn’t ready.

  “Ouuuuchie, ouchie, taken them off. Off. Fuck me....take those off,” he said. Shaking his head, he slapped them with his backhand off the bed onto the floor. “All I need is you.”

  He took her with mastery and skill, bringing them both to the brink of explosion, riding wave after wave of pleasure as the thickness of him filled her, stroking the inside of the walls, making her quiver internally.

  “Ooh, yes, more,” she whelped.

  Scott complied by picking up his pace, drilling into her with a set rhythm, rocking back and forth, going deeper with each stroke. The music in the background changed to another sultry song of romance as she surrendered herself to their lovemaking. Zelda, lost in the moment, threw her head backwards into the oversized feather pillows, languishing in the start of her first orgasm, breathing heavily as the waves of pleasure washed over her. The contracting muscles clamped on to the thick member plunging inside of her as the second orgasm built right after the first. The feel of his thumb on the nub of flesh stroking it sent her hips into overdrive, working with him until he groaned so loudly, that it triggered her second orgasm as she cried out.

  Her arms came around his neck, pulling her torso upwards from bed, her legs wrapped tightly around him as she thrust hard against him. Sweaty and unapologetic as she humped hard, enjoying the release.

  “Cum with me, Baby,” she whispered in his ear. “Fuck me hard and cum inside of me.”

  He said nothing more as he shifted their positions in the bed, him under her body, lifting her hips up and down, bringing her swollen lips over the thick shaft. Bouncing her up and down until his toes curled and he growled from the recesses of his belly.

  “Good grief!” he yelled as his orgasm hit, his right leg shaking as he pumped harder, trying to give her everything he had.

  Zelda collapsed on his chest, the feel of the trimmed chest hair rubbing through the thin fabric of her shirt, tickling her already sensitive nipples.

  “Spectacular,” he said, rolling to his side, spooning with her sweat-soaked body. “Absolutely spectacular.”

  Chapter 5

  Wednesday Morning, Early AM

  The kitchen was also spectacular. An eye jarring, lime green kind of spectacular from the window to the walls. Not your average lime green but a Dr. Seuss lime green with matching lime green appliances, with yellow wall paper covering every inch of wall space speckled with green apples, and green apple containers to hold coffee, flour, and sugar. The sun shone through the oversized window, lighting up the space as if the aliens were returning just to take another peek at the human catastrophic attempt to decorate.

  “I can’t. Not even with a coffee IV can I process this green ass kitchen,” Zelda said, turning to head back up the stairs.

  She was dressed and ready to head to the conference for some early interviews with the organizers before everything got crazy with overzealous attendees. She usually wrote several articles on each event. The best of the crop was often chosen by her boss for the magazine. The second and third bests were placed on the Magazine’s blog for subscribers. All other articles, she sold to other magazines and online sites under a penname. It had netted her a nice, nearly seven figure nest egg she planned to use to start her own magazine one day.

  “Hold on there, Zelda,” Scott said, pulling her by the sleeve. He handed her a round green mug, in the shape of an apple, filled with strong, black chicory coffee which smelled like heaven roasted by Ares himself before a large battle. The mug was Granny Apple green with a twig handle. The cup was so ugly it was adorable.

  “This is amazement in a cup,” she said, smiling after taking two sips.

  Seating herself in a green high backed chair, she watched Chandler bring a platter of scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, potatoes, and English muffins over, placing it in the center of the wooden green table.

  “Madam, if you do not eat pork, we also have turkey bacon,” Chandler said.

  “I will eat a pig’s nuts if you season them right,’ she said, eyeballing the food hungrily. “Did you make all of this for just us?”

  “Yes, Madam,” he said.

  Looking at him over the rim of the cup, she asked. “Do you normally eat with Scott or dine after you take him to work?”

  “We usually share our morning meal since it is only the two of us,” Chandler said.

  Scott, after missing dinner last night, had a hearty appetite this morning. “As hungry as I am this morning, Chandler, this may not be enough, plus my Zelda eats.”

  Chandler squinted his eyes, not understanding the phrasing Scott was using. He would not question Scott in Zelda’s presence, but it seemed an odd thing to say. Of course she ate; she would die if she did not.

  “Join us,” Zelda said.

  “It would not be proper, Madam. I cannot,” he said.

  “Scott, if Chandler doesn’t join us for breakfast, will you fire him?” she asked her big sexy man.

  “Sure thing, Baby,” he said, grabbing three strips of bacon.

  “What?” Chandler asked in disbelief.

  “Your boss said sit and eat or he will fire you,” she said with a wink, ladling eggs on to her plate. “You didn’t put anything weird in the eggs, did you?”

  “Pardon me?” he asked, reluctantly taking a seat, watching her face for clues for a joking nature. There was no humor in her eyes.

  “You know, like parsnip butter or green fairy wings or anything?” she asked spooning on potatoes.

  “No madam, I did not,” he said, looking confused.

  “Good, I am starved. Bless the food, Baby, so we can eat,” she said, grinning, grabbing Chandler’s hand, the other taking Scott’s. Immediately after the blessing, Zelda grabbed an additional plate, adding food which she placed in front of Chandler.

  “Scott,” she said.

  “Yes,” he responded, looking up at her.

  “I don’t want to put Chandler out. Am I riding in with you on your way to work and taking a paid car back when I’m done? I mean I don’t want to sit outside the little house of horrors waiting to be let inside if Chandler has duties to oversee today,” she said.

  “No worries,” Scott responded standing up, pulling open a cabinet with deep brown tree twig shaped drawer pulls. “Here are a set of keys to that door.”

  “Cool, so I grab a car service to come back.”

  Scott shook his head, “No, I don’t like the idea of you climbing in the car with some random stranger bringing you out to the house. You can use one of my cars. Would you prefer a sedan or sports car?”

  “What kind of sports car?” she asked, one e
yebrow arched.

  “Chandler what has been serviced?”

  “The Mazda is ready as well as the Porsche, Sir. I believe in the choices of sedans, the Chrysler is ready as well as the Mercedes,” Chandler responded.

  “You are going to let me drive your Porsche?” she asked sarcastically.

  Scott looked over the rim of the coffee mug, his tongue touching the tip of the teeth which amazingly were not as bucked as before.

  “When you marry me and move in, you can have it,” he said, taking a drink of the dark brew.

  “What if I want it in pink? I assume that the car is currently black,” she said, eyeing him over the rim of her as well.

  “Well, when you marry me and move in, I will paint it any color you want or buy you one of your own choosing,” he spoke, his eyes glinting with mischief.

  “Thoughtful. Sweet, but Baby, if I want one, I will buy my own,” she said, winking at Chandler.

  “Then, you have surreptitiously reduced my ability to bargain for your hand in marriage,” he said.

  Zelda forked the food around her plate, momentarily losing her appetite. “Scott, my hand and my life are not up for bargaining. Don’t try to buy my love. It will send me running faster than waking up in this crazy house. Which reminds me, I opened a door last night trying to get to the bathroom and walked into a brick wall. Why is there a brick wall behind a door?”

  Chandler looked down into his plate.

  “I know you warned me, but at one a.m., my addled brain was not thinking, ‘Hey this door may have a ton of bricks behind it,’” she told them.

  “Zelda, my great grandfather was an eccentric man. His son, my grandfather worked hard to bring this estate to life,” he said.

  “Uhhhhhhmmmmmmm,” she hummed, allowing the mms to roll in her chest. “Eccentric may not be the right word choice for your Pap-Pap. This lime green kitchen, the royal blue foyer, the red living room, is a bit to the left of eccentric, Baby.”

  “Wait until you see the orange dining room,” Chandler said, one eyebrow arched.

  “Or the yellow garage,” Scott added.

  “The train. The train is always fun to see people’s reactions,” Chandler piped in, eating a large helping of eggs.

  Zelda shook her head no. She didn’t want to know why there was a train. She didn’t ever need to know why there was a train. Scott answered anyway, although she never asked the question.

  “The train takes us from house to house. The houses are connected via the Popsicle stick walkways, but it’s faster to take the train. My parents live in the first house, my sisters the other two, and I have the pod,” Scott said smiling at her.

  She asked, “Pod?”

  “Yes, this is a space pod,” he said with a straight face.

  Zelda’s mouth hung open with a glob of eggs hanging from her lips. Chandler reached over and closed her mouth. Chewing slowly, then swallowing, she spoke softly, “Honestly, I am not surprised by that. Why am I not surprised by that?”

  “Would you be surprised, Madam, if you found out the pod decouples from the house and comes equipped with rocket boosters?” Chandler asked, pressing his lips together.

  “Now I’m surprised. Please elaborate why the space pod is detachable?” She stared at Scott with her eyes wide, as if a child had come into a clean white kitchen with a dirty black dog.

  “So it can go into space,” Scott said, looking at her as if she just asked the dumbest question in the world as he rose, heading to the stove to get more coffee. “The problem is, and we have argued about this several times over the years, Chandler will not give me the launch codes for the rocket boosters.”

  “Sir, I would find it very disconcerting to wake up and find myself 3,000 miles above the earth,” Chandler said.

  “Yes, but I am 40 years old, Chandler. It is my space pod and I should have the launch codes,” Scott emphasized, almost pouting.

  “Once you are able to provide me a solid reason to provide you the codes, I shall, Sir,” Chandler said, adding the Sir for Zelda’s benefit.

  She watched the two interact, wondering quietly, how many times the argument had surfaced between them. Chandler not giving, while Scott trying to persuade him with an unwinnable argument. Interjecting a question that was burning her brain, she interrupted the conversation.

  “Scott, you have to have some idea why Chandler doesn’t trust you with the codes,” she said.

  “Of course I do. Somedays, he understands that a body gets fed up and wants to come home and launch himself into space to get away from it all. Can’t you just see it? Floating high above the earth, looking down at all the little people, thinking, suck it, you puny human assholes,” he said. “It would be kind of awesome to pee out the window on your way up and out over Louisville.”

  Chandler pointed at him with a bored expression on his dark face as his eyes zoomed in on Zelda, saying, “See, this is why he is not given the codes.”

  Zelda wanted to laugh but she couldn’t. She knew the feeling of wanting to get away as well as the feeling of being trapped in a world where she didn’t belong. However, detaching your house and flying into space was not the most logical plan to solve any dissatisfaction. Chandler too understood this.

  “Sir, the only problem with launching the pod into space is that there is no way to bring it back to earth,” Chandler added.

  “Well, yeah, then there is that issue,” Scott said, looking at his watch. “Arms. I have a meeting with an arms dealer at nine.”

  “You are buying weapons?” Zelda asked.

  “No, the dude I am meeting with this morning manufactures arms and legs for dolls,” Scott said, squinting at her. “Why would I need to buy weapons?”

  “I don’t know, to fight off the aliens in space trying to break into your pod,” she said, frowning at him. “Or possibly to shoot the demons in the nightmares generated from living in the colorful world that is reminiscent of Walt Disney’s brain.”

  Chandler began to laugh at that statement. “You two are actually very funny,” he said.

  “Anyhoo, I have a long day today and an unexpected late meeting. I am so sorry, Zelda. It was unplanned. I think when it’s all said and done, it will be all said and done, and I should be home by nine. If you’d like, you can join me for lunch at the office,” he said, hoping she would.

  “No can do, Papa Bear. Momma Bear is trying to get some scoops from authors,” she said.

  “Okay, Chandler and I have to run. Please, if you need anything at all today, call me,” he said, moving over to stand in front of her. “I feel horrible not being able to take off and spend the day with you, but I do have something planned for in the morning. Are you sure you will be okay today?”

  “I will be fine Scott. You should stop worrying,” she told him.

  “I have no doubts, but when a man finds a treasure, he is very careful in safeguarding it from others,” he told her, kissing her lightly on the lips. The teeth had changed. When he kissed me, they didn’t clack into mine.

  “You are good,” she told him.

  “You have no idea,” he said as he kissed her again quickly, grabbing his jacket from the hook. “I shouldn’t be too late.”

  “See you tonight,” she said, waving good bye to him through the window adorned with curtains covered in little limes.

  “Yeesh,” she said looking about the kitchen at the dated appliances. “Maybe a better use of my free time today is looking for some updated appliances.”

  She thought better of it, wondering if the current kitchenware was space tested and approved. What am I doing? We are not going into space!

  The space she did need to venture into was the garage. A place she found after opening a door which led into a room full of broken doll appendages which made her skin crawl up the back of her neck. She imagined if anyone could see her, she would look like a confused Shar Pei. Closing the very scary door, she opened another, unfortunately finding herself walking into another wall hidden behind a door befo
re finally finding the garage.

  “Whoa!” she said, eyeing the garage full of collectible vehicles. “Jay Leno would be impressed. However, he would not be impressed by all of this yellow. It looks like the sun threw up in here.”

  The Porsche was up front, closest to the door and with one push of the button, the bright yellow garage door opened as if it were freeing a captive as she drove the shiny black car out into the sun light. The car idled while she secured the back door with her new house key, ensuring that it worked. Zelda slid into the driver’s seat, pointing the nose of the vehicle towards Berger Way, she opened up the speedy little car giving it some gas.

  “Whoooo-hoooo!” she yelled as she pressed her foot down hard and shifted the gears, giving the car an opportunity to build up a head, gain momentum, and soar. Zelda could not remember the last time she felt this free.

  Her high spirits continued as the GPS on her phone guided her to downtown Cincinnati to the conference hotel. In some ways, she hoped it would have been a boutique style hotel perfect for an author getaway; instead it was the standard fare of a corporate run lodging facility. Guests stood at the counter arguing over points for a room upgrade, while others lugged in boxes and overstuffed suitcases and weary travelers headed to the bar. A few hungry souls headed to the overpriced restaurant to eat a meal prepared by a classically trained chef forced to use ingredients purchased from a corporate food supplier.

  She found the registration table for the conference very easily. All she had to do was follow the loud squeals of happy attendees and early arrivers who were ecstatic to see old friends or bump into their favorite author. To her amazement, the one author she loved to read was also in line.

  “Janet Mahery?” she asked, causing the woman to look up and face her.

  “Yes?”

  “Oh, my goodness, I am such a fan of your words,” Zelda said to her, opening a dialogue that turned into the best interview she’d ever conducted. Ms. Mahery enjoyed the conversation so much, she continued it by treating Zelda to lunch with one other reader. At the end of the day, her voice recorder was full, the notebook filled with energetic conference attendees, and Zelda’s heart was happy. She even stopped by the mall to pick up something for her guy.