Keeping Our Home (Holliday Book 2)

by Sarah R. Silas

  He was about cry out, calling her name in his own personal catharsis, when he noticed her sitting with a man in a gray jacket. The man smiled, reached out and took Lilith's hand.

  Clark's stomach turned, his guts heaved, betraying his emotions. He looked at the hostess, her sex appeal gone, and turned and left the restaurant before his guts gave out and threw up all over the carpet.

  His breath quickened, the hairs on his arms stood up, and he cursed at himself as he got back into his truck. He looked at himself in the rearview mirror. "Stop being such a goddamn pussy. You goddamn pussy," he said.

  He revved the engine and then drove home, but turned off on the shoulder to empty his guts in the driver foot well. He groaned, realizing he was going to have to hose his shoes off when he got home.

  ~~~

  When he held onto her hand, she had felt something, and the time and trip between the restaurant and his hotel room was short, a whirlwind of emotion, angst, heaving, and intertwined tongues. She pushed her thoughts about Clark down into her gut, reminding herself that he was a felon and possibly a murderer. But Marty’s text had brought back a wellspring of emotion that she couldn’t stop thinking about.

  He had a room at one of the small boutique hotels in Helena, and she had been respectful not to start anything in view of anyone. But, as soon as they turned the corner of one of the wallpapered hallways, making their way to his room, she pinned him against the wall, wrapping her left leg around his. She pressed her lips against his mouth, their tongues joining, foreshadowing what was to come.

  "You do take control," he said, breathing heavily as she let go.

  She smiled and moved him towards the door. She wasn't one to waste time anymore. She knew what she wanted. And she was going to get it. He opened the door, revealing a small space with a king size bed. He flung his jacket inside. He slowly unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his smooth chest and flat abs. She could feel how perfectly chiseled they felt under her fingers. It was surprising, she thought, chuckling to herself. He was a beautiful computer nerd from her kind of country.

  She ran her hands down his chest, grabbing him at the sides, matching her lips to his, bringing him close, his heat apparent, his cock throbbing through his pants, against her waist. She unbuttoned her shirt, revealing her simple off-white bra. His broke away, coming down the nape of her neck, she moaned lightly as his hands made their way to her back, and with a quick flick, undid her bra.

  It fell to the floor and his head descended down her chest, his tongue running down her neck, his large hands grasping her breasts and bringing her erect left nipple to his mouth. His tongue ran in angry circles around it, sucking lightly and then harder and harder. Her moans became insistent until he broke away and did it again to her right.

  He guided her to the bed, taking her boots off, and peeling her pants down. He slid on top of her, his smooth bare chest against hers. He flipped her arms up as he guided his left hand down to her clitoris. It was slick, as his fingers rubbed against her clit, parting her mouth with his lips, and her lips with his fingers.

  He pulled away, unbuttoning his pants, and pulling down his underwear, revealing his hard cock. She moved forward to grasp it in her hands, when her eyes fell on a magazine laying idly on a chair. She paused, staring at it, his sex in her hand, the hair fluffy but not burdensome. It pointed towards her as her gaze remained on the magazine.

  It showed a truck, the same model and year as hers, against the backdrop of mountains. Even with Zeke in her hand, her mind returned to the night days before with Clark. She had worked hard to push it deep inside her, but it returned unbidden as her wet sex was about to accept another man. She looked up at Zeke, his chest, his member, his thick naked thighs, and his expectant gaze.

  Her breasts laid against her, her underwear pushed down her legs, clothes strewn everywhere. And she couldn't do it. As much as she'd wanted to, as much as she'd tried, she didn't actually want it, and it was only in the moment that she had realized it.

  Her hand barely wrapped around it, but she let his cock go as it lost some of its rigidity and she moved away. She readjusted her underwear and tried to find her bra.

  "Wait, what's wrong?" he asked, confused and surprised as to the turn of events. "Did I do something wrong? I thought we were having a good time."

  "Yeah, we are. We were. I just," she stammered, putting her bra on, then her jeans and shirt.

  In a flash she was clothed, adjusting her hair, staring at Zeke who was still mostly naked, his bare chest shining in the light, his pants around his thick calves, and his cock barely returning to normal. She stared at it. It was large, girthy, and she knew she wanted it.

  But not like this, not when she couldn't get Clark out of her mind. She leaned over, patted his side and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "I'm sorry," she whispered, and then left the room.

  ~~~

  Clark sat on his couch, bottles strewn across the carpet. He was wearing just a white undershirt that stretched across his chest, tucked into his jeans. His boots sat in the corner.

  He wasn't taking seeing Lilith with another man well. It wasn't going the way he had planned. He had wanted to see her as he triumphantly got of jail, and proclaim that he wanted to go on a date with her. He wanted to convince her that he wanted to see her more often, that perhaps they could go steady.

  He laughed, thinking how corny that sounded, especially in this day and age. People didn't work that way anymore. He knew that, but he still hoped that things could work out nicely for him. It was just apart of who he wanted to be. He had wasted the rest of the evening watching trashy television, smashing beer, and wondering if he should go to work tomorrow. He had decided that he wouldn't, because ultimately, he didn't know if he could see Lilith. He didn't want to wonder and question whether she had sex with that guy. He didn’t know if he could respect a guy that was that polished.

  He knew she was an independent woman who could do whatever the fuck she wanted, but his jealousy didn't care. His feelings didn't care. He just wanted to know if she liked him and not some rich asshole. He laughed again. So high school sounding, he thought. He threw a beer bottle across the room, hearing it rattle down the hallway.

  At first he thought the knock at his door was his television. He glanced at it, but it was a commercial. The knock came again. He finally got up and answered it.

  He opened the door, finding Lilith standing outside, waving at a cab driver who drove away. He stared at her, not knowing what to say. The booze in him coming up back up a little just at the thought of her, just at looking at her.

  "Hey," she finally said, looking into his eyes, as if peering into his soul. He was finding that he loved that about her.

  "Hey," he choked out. She looked beautiful, he thought. The porch light shone at just the right angle to set her hair alight in a variety of colors, shining into the night.

  "You wanna invite me in?" she asked, stomping her feet on the welcome mat. She had changed her clothes and taken a shower, wanting to wash away Zeke and those feelings. She had decided to wear less makeup, too. She felt more normal, more real, more herself. "Also, there's some creepy guy down the street who I think has been staring at me. I dunno. Weird dude. I think he's in his bathrobe."

  "Yeah, that's Markus. He's the one who seems to have saved me from prison," mumbled Clark. He gestured her inside and closed the door.

  "Ricky lived down the street, right?" asked Lilith.

  "Yeah, but how did you know where I lived?" he asked, handing her a beer.

  She popped it open, feeling relieved at the familiarity of it. She hadn't hated the wine, she loved wine, but it wasn't wine in her kitchen. It was wine at a place that she couldn't fit into. This all felt normal. It felt real. "I was at home and I looked into my father's files. I wanted to see you. Marty sent me a text saying that he heard through the grapevine that you'd been released. I hope you'll be at work tomorrow." She took a deep pull on the beer.

  "Is that why you came over?" asked Clar
k. "Professional call?"

  She noticed his nipples, his chest hair underneath his white shirt, and felt her heart quickening. She hadn't been satiated, her sex roiling beneath the surface, wanting more. And she knew that she had found the right man she wanted it from. "Something like that," she whispered.

  He couldn't help himself, he wanted to know, he wanted to know how to feel. "Who was that guy you were talking to in the restaurant?" he blurted out.

  "Wait, what," she said, the moment broken. She put her beer down. "You were in the restaurant?"

  "I was going to get a table, to celebrate my freedom with a way too expensive dinner that I probably can't afford, but," he stammered. "But then I saw you, and I didn't want you think I was following you or something, and I didn't wanna bother, and I definitely didn't want to see you with another guy." He was drunk, he was rambling, he was ruining the moment.

  She moved closer to him, pushing his chin up, wrapping her arms around his firm body. "He was a professional thing, and it didn't go well," she said. She pushed her lips into his, her tongue makes its way between his teeth. He tasted like beer, but she didn't mind.

  Instead of taking control, she let him peel her shirt off. He wasn't as deft as Zeke, fiddling with the bra strap. His drunk fingers finally achieved it, and he tossed her bra onto the couch. His rough hands, from years of working outside, cupped her soft breasts and he too bent down and put his mouth to her right nipple, while his other hand, like a mountain trail, roughly made its way down to her clit.

  But she had, had enough of it all. She moved to the couch, letting him peel off her jeans, and then her underwear. She still remembered his mouth on her lips and she wanted to know if it had been a fluke or not.

  "Wait," she said. She quickly bent over, not wanting to ruin this moment that she had wanted with Clark. She found her phone and turned it off. "No interruptions this time," she said, laughing.

  He smiled and kissed the inside of her left thigh, and then the right, moving his way up until his lips met hers, his tongue moving first in gentle circles, and then sucking harder and harder on her clit as her moans grew in intensity.

  She knew this felt right, this was what she had wanted. He gently stuck his large fingers inside her, first one, then another, pushing them up and inside, finding his way through her moans. But she couldn't be satiated this way.

  Lilith pulled at his hair as his lips and mouth sucked at her lips, pulling him away. She kissed him, sliding naked off the couch. She quickly undid his jeans, pulling his underwear down and unleashing his cock. She grasped it with her hand, his balls in her other, bringing her tongue along the shaft, concentrating her circles on the tip, and then coming off and taking his balls in her mouth. He let out soft moans, but then pulled her away and back onto the couch.

  Finally, they came together, as he was on top of her, his large cock easily sliding its way into her slick sex, his hands across her breasts, her nipples erect. He started slowly, thrusting easily and then faster and deeper, as she let out moans of pleasure. He continued, making sure that he was doing what he could to ease her along.

  They switched positions, letting her control what she wanted. Her actions were swift and precise as she balanced on his ample cock. It went deep inside her, and she loved feeling it, creating more and more pressure.

  He couldn't hold it any longer, his face aching trying to keep it in. She could feel his cock getting harder, about to cum. She kissed him, moving faster and faster, letting her own catharsis begin, and when she came, it felt good, as the pressure released and her breathing softened. A few moments later, he came, his heaving and moaning also satiated.

  She swung off him, and laid down on the couch next to him. They both laid there, in the post-coital afterglow, thinking the same thing: neither had expected the day to end this way.

  He kissed her, found a blanket nearby, and they both fell asleep.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Lilith woke up cold, the blanket having shifted away from her feet. She stretched her arms out and found the couch was empty. She had been surprised that they both even fit on the couch, but now she looked around, looking for Clark.

  She heard rattling in the kitchen, and he walked back, wearing underwear, a smile, and carrying two mugs of coffee. "Is that for me?" she said coyly, wrapping the blanket around her naked form and reaching out for the mug.

  "No, actually, both for me," he said, handing it to her. "I don't usually have guests, so I'm drinking out of the dirty one, I promise."

  She laughed, unsure if he was telling the truth or not, and took a sip of the coffee. It was strong, no sugar, but she appreciated the caffeine nonetheless. She moved over to let him back under the covers, pressing herself against the couch.

  "So you took a cab here?" asked Clark.

  "Yeah. I may be a doctor, but I'm still gonna get 20 question when I get home from Dad if I came home really late, or worse," she said, chuckling. "If I came the morning after."

  "Alright, well. I dunno the boys that well, so we're going to have to figure out something. I dunno if, ya know," he said, looking at her over his mug.

  "Oh, yeah. Just drop me off at the gate. But, ya after a date or something, I dunno if I'd care one way or another," she replied.

  "Yeah, for sure. A date. How about tonight?"

  "Sounds good to me," she said, laughing. She was loving every moment of this interaction, the encounter, the night before, the morning after, and especially just laying next to him like this, even if she was the only naked one. It all felt good, and she didn't want it to end. But that, she knew, was too much to ask. "I should probably turn my phone back on. Pistol is probably gonna think that I'm dead."

  "Yeah, for sure." He reached over and found her phone among her clothes. She turned it on, waiting for it to boot up.

  "How 'bout steak tonight?" she asked, scanning over her emails and new messages.

  "Too rich for my blood, only if you're buying."

  She grunted as she opened her father's text messages. 'Got a guy named Zeke asking to buy the property. Says he knows you. Get back to me.' She looked through her missed calls and saw that he called a few times. Her anxiety began increasing, the hairs on her arms raising.

  "What's wrong?" asked Clark, worried from the look on her face and her anxious shifting.

  "Yeah, I just," she mumbled. She looked at him. "I think I need to get home now."

  "Dad again?" he asked, chuckling.

  "Yes, we gotta move," she said. She flung the blankets from them both and jumped over him, reaching for her things. "You're gonna have to drive, but don't leave me at the gate. Fuck the boys, just leave me far away that he won't be able to see me from his office window."

  "Alright," he said, joining her. "Kinda wish I coulda showered."

  "You can use mine later," she said, smirking.

  "Now you have my attention," he said.

  He grabbed his keys as she finished buttoning her shirt and they left his house. She hoped that Zeke hadn't told her father anything about last night, and this was simply about the ranch. And even then, she couldn't believe he had gone behind her back like that.

  As Clark started the truck, she was unsure what exactly was going on. She hoped this was just about the ranch, because she really didn't want to discuss her sex life with her father. She glanced over at Clark. She didn't really want to discuss her sex life with anyone else, either.

  ~~~

  "What the fuck kind of operation are you running around here Holt?" said Judge Henrik, spearing a piece of pancake and drizzling more syrup on it. His belly pushed against the diner table as he pushed his head forward to put the piece in his mouth.

  Sheriff Holt sighed, unsure of what to say. "Look, he's a witness."

  "He ain't no witness in my book. Maybe if he was wearing night vision goggles, maybe if he was a cat Holt. Maybe if he was a cat, who had crept all the way to Ricky's door, then maybe he would be a witness," said Henrik, leaning over and grabbing a piece of bacon off Holt'
s plate.

  Holt knew Henrik wasn't wrong, but it meant that the investigation either had to pivot back to Clark, or it was actually nowhere. And going back to the ranch to arrest Clark again would look bad on everyone, mostly Holt. He had to consider running for reelection and arresting a Holliday ranch hand falsely more than once was going to look bad. "Then I'm going to have to say that I'm nowhere with this investigation," he said, sighing.

  "Then you're fuckin' nowhere. What's wrong with the evidence you have?"

  "I dunno, it doesn't feel right to me. It just doesn't feel right. Clark's a good kid, this is not his thing."

  Henrik looked over his glasses, pushing another piece of bacon between his teeth. "You're talking about a convicted felon, who has served time."

  "Yeah, well. What would you have done in his shoes?"

  Henrik cleared his throat, wiping his fingers and resting them against his belly. "If I was as fit as I was when I was in the army? I would probably done worse to that cocksucker than what Clark did to him."

  "Yeah, so. Let's just say that we empathize with him."

  "No, we don't empathize. We sympathize. And I also sympathize with the idea that you have evidence that convicts him."

  "It won't hold up in court," said Holt, nudging his plate towards Henrik.

  "Then find me some evidence," said Henrik. "Go back and do your fuckin' due diligence. Ya get me? Bring in the dogs, sniff it out. I shouldn't have to tell you how to do your job Holt."

  "Yeah, yeah. I'll see what I can do. But what should I do about Clark?"

  Henrik sighed. "I dunno. If you wanna charge him with something, I'd sign his warrant. But based on this evidence and anything you find today. Ya get me?"

  Holt sighed. "I'll go over his house again and Ricky's too."

  "What did the creepy fucker tell you anyway? Something about leathers?"