by Trixie More
“Edward Walker, I will happily marry you. I love you so much, I would drive all of Interstate 95, in a day, for you. I would chase down criminals for you and I would physically assault you to keep you from leaving me.”
The man’s face took on an intensity that made her insides clench. He was standing frozen, his nostrils slightly flared, chest rising and falling.
“But what I want to know is, will you marry me?” Above her, he was nodding already. Reaching for her. She had to make this fast.
“Will you agree to love me when I do crazy things? Will you be OK if I get fired from all my jobs? Will you let me be with you, in your life, all up in your business in every way?” Someone in the crowd chuffed. “I love you, Edward Walker, and you know I’m a flaky, needy, kinda gal.”
He pounced on her, his big hands thrust under her arms and lifting.
“Get up off that floor, lady,” he said. He pulled her to him, losing his balance as he did so. The clapping nurse grabbed his bicep, propping him up. He kissed Dorothy then, holding her to him.
“Hey, gimpy, you didn’t answer the lady.” The crowd laughed.
“Yes!” he yelled to the whole ER. And he took Dorothy’s hand and slid a plastic water bottle ring on her finger.
She folded her fingers around the plastic ring and her heart around her man, kissing him with everything she was. She hugged him to her and whispered in his ear. “OK, but if this is being videoed, you know it’s going viral.”
A flicker of something flashed in his eyes and then he threw back his head and laughed. “Pool Boy and Baby Dot. I’m all in.”
“Just promise me we won’t recycle this ring.”
Chapter 26
“You are definitely going to like it.”
Some things were more than Edward could process. Dorothy was standing on his bed, her pretty face healed, wearing her bright blue underwear and his favorite Mets jersey. She was busy nailing a plastic Jesus to the wall and talking to him about oral sex.
“Can we have this conversation without him?” he asked.
Threads of Dorothy’s fine blond hair floated in the light from the bedside lamp, lifting with some unseen updraft. She had just pulled on the jersey. To his utter fascination, she’d started this project in her bra.
“What?” she asked. “He’s gonna be listening, even if you’re just thinking it, anyway.” She frowned at the wall. “Do you think that will hold? I don’t want him bashing me in the head tonight.”
“Just remember to push on the headboard with your hands and you’ll be fine.”
She didn’t look convinced, but she climbed down off the bed anyway. She looked around the crowded bedroom. “I really don’t think there’s room for both of us in this place.”
“You won’t need any space,” he said. “You’re spending the rest of your life on my lap.”
“Pfft.” She waved him off and started unpacking a box of bottles, creams, tubes and knickknacks. She was humming under her breath, a song he recognized as “Better in Boots,” by someone named Tyler Farr. Apparently, women came with a lot of clutter and their own music. “Do you mind if I use the dresser top?” The tray for his pocket change and wallet slid to the end and balanced there. One more inch and it would be on the floor.
“Nope,” he said. “I’ll just go in the bathroom and make sure the only thing I have in there is a toothbrush, OK?”
She laughed and pulled open a drawer in the dresser. “Is this mine?” She took out his T-shirts and piled them on the bed.
“Hey!” He took his T-shirts pretty seriously. Then he watched as a complicated and delicate looking bra came out of the box. Followed by a matching thong. He swallowed. Raspberry shiny fabric scraps came next and he decided to just enjoy whatever this was.
“We were discussing sex, I believe,” he said. “If I have to re-fold all my shirts, you can at least entertain me.”
Dorothy’s ass was in the air and she seemed to be shoving something under the bed. Her voice was muffled. “I think we have to just do the deed and be done with it.”
That was it. He straightened up and went around to the end of the bed, grabbed her hips and hauled her upright, enjoying the freedom having the cast off his leg gave him.
“Ed?”
He knew what she wanted. She wanted to give him a blow job. He still felt embarrassed when he thought about that night in her kitchen. But he couldn’t look down and see her there and not think about himself, how he’d been used. Didn’t seem to matter that it was her mouth, not his. The whole thing felt wrong.
He kissed her and she wrapped her arms around his neck, causing her shirt to lift and exposing her backside. Her round ass fit into his hands like it was made just for him. Maybe it was. Thank you, Jesus. He couldn’t hold back a chuckle.
“What?” she asked.
“I thought women didn’t like that sort of thing,” he said, more to change the topic than because he believed it. Maybe they could argue about women’s lib and then have missionary sex. That would do fine for him.
“Nice try. But wrong-o.” She bit his lip and his dick, already perked up and listening, gave a twitch.
“I dunno about that. I didn’t like it.” That he believed. His dick deflated a bit, but it still had its head in the game. So to speak.
“What happened to you, and what I’m going to do, are two entirely different things. I wouldn’t have liked it either.” She studied him. “But I still say, you don’t remember it, so you have no idea what you thought about it.”
“Watch it. Don’t get ugly on me.” And he was back. Fucked-up as he was, that little bit of conflict turned him on. She was feisty, and apparently, that was the magic for him. He crowded her back against the dresser and shoved his good knee between her legs. He could feel the dampness of her panties on his thigh. He sucked at her neck and she moaned. He just pushed harder and she started to ride his leg while her hands swept up and down his biceps. She was moving all her stuff into his tiny apartment and taking over. He wasn’t ever going to be alone again. He tried to lift her onto the dresser top but she wriggled free and ducked under his arm.
“I need my blue shoes!” She disappeared through the door and he followed.
In his little entry way, a person might never open the door again, since there were about seven pairs of her shoes by the door. Not counting the pair of bright blue heels she had on right this very moment. Seeing them brought him back to that day in Adam’s office, when she had dropped her papers. Gorgeous, slender calves, that’s what he noticed first, then those brilliant shoes, the color of a bird from the rain forest, and that hint of blue at her cleavage.
How had he even finished that meeting?
Now she stood in his entryway, wearing those shoes, and he already knew what was under the Mets jersey she wore. Her left hip was cocked to the side and she had her right leg bent slightly, pulled to the left. She widened her eyes and his dick pressed hard against the zipper of his jeans.
“I put these shoes on just for you, Mr. Walker,” she whispered.
His mind rushed back to the day she had stood right there, in a Mets jersey and her little denim mini skirt. She’d been, hands down, the hottest thing he’d ever seen. Until now. She gave him that womanly smile, the same one she’d given him as she got out of the taxi that first night. The one that let him know she was perfectly aware of what she was doing to him.
She walked toward him, eyeing up his package.
“Oh my. That looks so uncomfortable. Is the zipper scratchy? Are you, um, sore?” She laughed at the look on his face and lifted up the bottom of his T-shirt. “Let’s take this off.”
Her cool hands brushed over his chest as she peeled it off. She stepped back and slid her palms along the waist band of his jeans, letting her thumbs brush against his skin. Then she slid her hands back and undid the button. He sighed and pulled her close, the feel of the soft cotton of his jersey at once familiar and wonderful. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her in close.
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As he brushed his lips back and forth over hers and then ran his tongue down her neck, he felt her fingers slipping his zipper down, heard her whispering to him how much she loved him, how much she wanted him. He burrowed his face into her neck and held her. She was so warm.
She ducked her head to the side and he felt her hot, wet tongue on his collar bone. She started sliding down and he reluctantly let her go. Her kisses along his abdomen were firm, damp and luxurious. She bent at the waist as she kissed lower and lower and he pulled at her shirt so that he could see the pretty dip at the small of her back, the dimples above her buttocks and the way the blue satin slid between her cheeks. She was beyond gorgeous. Her ass moved rhythmically left and right as she worked and he held his breath when he realized she was working her thighs together, squeezing herself as she peeled his jeans down his legs, concentrating on working them over his brace.
The top of her blond head bumped against the front of his underwear as she bent over even farther and pulled his jeans clear of his feet. He wished like hell there’d been a mirror on the wall behind her. He imagined his Dorothy, bent at the waist before him, her pussy on display in a mirror while she licked his shaft, and that was enough to convince him she might be right about this. He fisted her hair and she gasped. Silently, he guided her head back to his dick. He took one hand and yanked his underwear down. His dick rose up and slapped against her mouth and he was lost.
“Suck it, Dorothy. You wanted it, now put it in your pretty mouth.” He hardly recognized his own voice. He couldn’t get himself pushed into her fast enough. In front of him, she started to bend her knees.
“No way. You are going to stay just like that, with your round butt in the air.”
She opened her mouth and his cock was bathed in warm heaven. They both groaned as she started to move, pulling back, and pressing forward, flicking her tongue against his shaft as she went. She pulled all the way back and lapped at the tip. He could see her pink tongue moving, working over his cock. He loosened his grip on her hair, holding her head more gently, and pressing himself into her. Leaning back slightly from the waist, he could see his dick disappear into her mouth. The sight was almost all he could stand. He held her still.
One of her hands was splayed across his left thigh.
“Pull your tits out, Dorothy.”
Her mouth was stuffed full of him. Her nostrils were flared and a little rivulet of drool was coming from the corner of her lips. He thought he was going to blow right there but he kept his mind on the prize. If she was going to do this to him, she was going to do it right. He felt her weight on his leg as she used her right hand to pull her jersey up and her bra down.
He stroked her head. “So good. That’s my girl.” He could feel the deep breath she pulled in through her nose. “Can you breathe?”
She nodded, her face still full of cock. “Good girl.” He closed his eyes for a moment and started to move while he held her still.
“Reach down now and rub your clit for me, my Dorothy.”
Vibrations rumbled through her as she moaned. He could feel them. Then he felt her movements, jerky and awkward as she tried to comply with his request. His pretty little fiancée was having a tough time trying to reach herself.
“You poor thing,” he grunted. “It’s so hard to do as you’re told in that position.”
That did it. She keened around him and then she collapsed to her knees and began to suck him in earnest, one fist around the root of his cock and one fist shoved between her legs. He let go of her and let her do whatever she wanted, focusing on the surge boiling up from his balls. There was nothing but Dorothy, nothing but feeling her, knowing she wanted him, as his ass clenched, his legs felt like stone and then his seed surged into her mouth. He didn’t have the wherewithal to warn her and she didn’t seem to care one bit as she swallowed it down. She didn’t let one drop spill out and when he finally stopped and bent double over her, she let him slide free, kissing his thighs, rubbing his back, his shoulders, telling him over and over that she loved him. The solid weight of her, as he lifted her in his arms and tucked her close against him felt like home. He took her to their bed, cuddling her close while he gathered the stamina to return the favor.
By morning, they were both sure that Jesus was absolutely secure in his new home.
Are you coming?
Don’t ever text that to me when I’m about to meet your dad.
Dorothy laughed to herself as she tucked her cell phone into her purse.
“He’s not far,” she told her parents.
“How are you both doing?” her mom asked, smiling at her. “Are you all moved in?”
“Oh forget it, Mom,” she groaned. “I have most of my stuff in boxes at Ed’s plant in Warwick. Ed’s apartment is the size of a shoe box.”
Her father laughed. “Reminds me of our mac and cheese days,” he said to Helen. From the angle of their arms, it appeared her parents were holding hands under the table. The thought created a tide of happiness in Dorothy that she felt expand insider her, as if it were a physical event.
“Speaking of the plant, how is the business doing?” Her dad’s mind never traveled far from business.
“I’ll let Ed tell you,” she said. She watched as her husband-to-be maneuvered his way between the tables and patrons. He had both hands in the pockets of his worn jeans, his T-shirt pulled tight across his chest. He looked relaxed and confident, his legs moving freely, the brace finally gone. For a moment he stopped in his tracks and stood, looking down at a boy he had just passed. The boy was at a table for two with his mother, holding up a toy plane in a pudgy fist. The boy said something and Ed laughed, lifting his face, tipping his chin back for a moment. He answered the boy and then Ed’s eyes found hers. The connection was immediate and electric. His eyes held that warmth she craved like the most divine drink. He said something more to the boy and then made his way to the table, never taking his eyes off her.
“Hey lady,” he said, leaning over to kiss her cheek. “Hi Helen, Carl.” He sat next to Dorothy and dropped his hand on her thigh. It felt like the last piece to a puzzle.
She heard Allie arrive before she saw her. Her best friend looked well rested and happy. Behind her Derrick was being towed along like a dinghy in her wake.
“Cheers to the happy couple,” Derrick said, as he plunked a bottle of wine on the table.
When everyone was settled and had ordered their food, the focus turned to the coming wedding.
“So where will the honeymoon be?” Allie asked, and Dorothy noticed Allie’s eyes sliding toward Derrick. “Did we decide?”
“Someplace warm,” Ed said, but Dorothy got the last word in.
“Like Norway!”
“Why don’t you meet Eva and Gunnar in Iceland?” Helen asked.
“Why would we do that, Mom?”
“Hot springs! And it’s still close enough to them.”
Dorothy shook her head.
“I’m not spending my honeymoon with Gunnar, Dorothy. I’ve spent the last ten years with the guy. I don’t intend to think of him once for the first month after we’re married.”
She stuck out her lower lip, but Ed leaned over and whispered in her ear.
She grinned from ear to ear. “We’re going to Santorini. And then, we’re going to Norway.”
Her dad winked at her. Her father was funding their travels as their wedding gift. “Let’s get to the important stuff. How is the business?”
“Well,” Edward cleared his throat, “it seems Nate’s father has decided to incorporate green design into his new subdivisions. I can’t imagine why.”
Her father’s face split into a huge grin. He banged the table with his fist. “I knew it was a good day, the day I hired that kid.”
Dorothy shook her head. Her wine was warm and full on her tongue and she savored it. She could choose to think that her family was trying to save her, or she could just decide they liked all the same things she did, including Edward.
&nb
sp; Edward continued. “So that’s enough to keep the Norway plant operating for the year at least.”
Her dad frowned. He was an America first guy, through and through. “And?” he prodded.
“And, we still have some work to do before the New York plant is secure, but we are on our way. We just signed a contract to supply a chain of DIY auto parts stores with our scrubbers. And, it turns out, the state of New York isn’t a bad place to try to sell grass and flatulence reducers to dairy farmers. So, we’re making ends meet.” Ed leaned back as the waitress set a giant steak in front of him. “Life is good, Carl.” Ed bowed his head slightly. “Thank you.” The group was quiet for a moment.
“I read in the paper that Doug Lloyd took a plea bargain on kidnapping Dot,” Allie said.
“I still can’t believe that Doug did all those things.” Helen shook her head. “I’m usually a good judge of character, and I always liked him. I don’t understand it.”
“I still don’t understand what he thought he was going to do with Dottie,” said Derrick. “I mean, for a smart guy, that was a dumb move.”
Ed coughed. “Think about it, Derrick. He’s pleading to a lesser charge, he hasn’t confessed to anything, certainly not to anything in the video. That’s a better outcome than getting charged with rape. He’s saying it was temporary insanity, brought on by stress over the impact the scrubber would have on his business.” Edward rolled his shoulders as he started to cut his steak. “He might wind up back out, with his holdings intact. What a bunch of bull. The plea bargain includes jail time for the kidnapping at least.”
Derrick frowned, speaking to Dorothy. “He must have removed the tattoo after you saw it at that picnic. I guess he couldn’t resist playing up to Carl. With the tattoo gone, there’s no proof he was the man in the video.” Derrick’s brow was furrowed. He looked past Dorothy to Ed. “I’m not sure I agree with your explanation, Ed. He had Dottie less than twelve hours, so it’s second degree kidnapping. Compared to first degree rape, they aren’t much different in severity and the rape case was never going to be a slam dunk. No, he didn’t do it to have a lesser charge to negotiate with. I’m sure of that.” It was the most words anyone had ever heard him say at one meal. The group looked at him in astonishment. Dorothy glanced at Allie but, if anything, she looked more shocked than any of them.
