Ideal Image: Snapshot, #2

by Freya Barker

  “Not at all. A little swollen and red, with some bruising around your eye, but the scar looks much smoother. You should have a look,” Nick urges with an encouraging smile.

  “The discoloration and the swelling will fade with time, as will most of the redness, although you should remain vigilant in avoiding direct sun,” Dr. Ashrad informs me. “But before I get you a mirror, let me remove these few surface stitches.”

  I feel a slight pinch when he pulls the stitches free, but then he lifts a handheld mirror to my face. My left eye, albeit not exactly fresh looking right now, is no longer drooping. I don’t even bother looking at the rest of my scar; I’m so engrossed at seeing symmetry in my face again. Even as my vision blurs with tears of relief, I can’t look away.

  I barely notice the click of the door latching, as Nick’s arms are suddenly there, pulling me tight against his strong body.

  “It looks good, right?” I finally manage, my ear pressed against the steady thump of his heart.

  “It does. I’m glad for you,” he mumbles quietly and I lift my head away, tilting it up to look into his warm eyes. “You’ve always been beautiful to me, but it makes me happy that this might help you believe it.”

  With infinite tenderness, he presses his lips on mine, before brushing them ever so lightly over the scar on my face. I’m about to dissolve in tears again at the sweet gesture, when the door opens and Dr. Ashrad is back, with some papers and a tube of something in his hand.

  “These are aftercare instructions and this is a medicated ointment you should apply twice a day,” he says, handing them to me. “Make sure your hands are washed before application and massage it into the scar gently. It should help to keep the skin stay supple as it completely heals. Avoid rubbing your eye or crying,” he says with a sharp, warning look in Nick’s direction that makes me chuckle. “And check in with Linda on your way out. I’d like to see you again in about six weeks, to see how you’ve healed. If you decide you want me to see if we can improve on some of the other scars on your torso or limbs, let me know.”

  I shoot a look at Nick at the reference to the scars he hasn’t really seen yet, but he doesn’t react at all. Dr. Ashrad shakes my hand and then Nick’s, before opening the door for us.

  “Want to grab a quick bite?” Nick asks as we walk out of the hospital. When he senses my hesitation he quickly adds, “We don’t have to get out of the car, we can hit a drive-thru or I can grab something and we can park by the river?”

  “That sounds good,” I concede, liking that last idea. “As long as we’re back in time to get Mak off the bus, I’m good.”

  MY PHONE RINGS JUST as I’m wiping some lingering crumbs from the front of my shirt. I’m clearly a messy eater, especially eating that amazing sandwich from Oscar’s Cafe Nick recommended.

  We found a quiet spot along the Animas River not too far from downtown, but the rush of the fast-moving water drowns out the city noises quite effectively. I could almost imagine myself in the middle of nowhere, Nick’s solid thigh pressing against my leg making for a delicious daydream where we become one with nature, so to speak—but my ringtone spoils the fantasy.

  “Hey, Ben,” I answer, after a quick peek at my screen reveals the caller.

  “How is it?” he barges right in, as is typical of my big brother.

  “Good. I think...the doc seemed pleased. My eye looks much better. A little less Quasimodo.”

  “Knock it off,” Ben gruffly scolds me for joking. “You’ve never been anything but gorgeous.”

  Gah...I have to swallow hard; my brother sweet is threatening to get me sloppy.

  “Nick said something similar,” I say, lifting my eyes to find the man in question studying me intently.

  “He did?” Ben sounds pleasantly surprised.

  “Absolutely, but you guys have to stop being nice, or I’m gonna cry, and you know you hate me emotional,” I warn them both. “Besides, Dr. Ashrad said to avoid crying.”

  “So noted,” he says brusquely. “Now, next reason I called; I have Mak. Now don’t get your knickers in a twist,” he says right away when I start to protest. “I happened to be driving by the school and saw the kids being rushed out of the building and went to check it out. Apparently the school received a bomb threat.”

  “In Dolores?” I question incredulously.

  “Probably a hoax. They can’t take any chances, though. All the kids were sent home so Drew and his guys can check it out.”

  “We’re just finishing up lunch, we’ll head back right away,” I tell him, already getting to my feet.

  “Actually, I thought I’d keep Mak with me. I have to go into Cortez to pick up a few things, and she needs a new reel for her rod. The trip’ll likely include a stop at Sonic.” He pauses for a moment, but before I can launch an objection to the junk food, he continues, “It’s been a while since I took her fishing, so I thought I’d take her down to the reservoir. She can just crash here with me. You both can. Or I can drop her off at home tomorrow.”

  The last is posed more as a question than a statement. I’m not sure why I sneak a peek from under my lashes in Nick’s direction, but I can feel a blush crawling up my face as I consider the possibilities of an empty house.

  “I’m sure she’d love that,” I respond, trying to keep my voice level. “I think I’ll just stay home. I have some laundry I’ve been ignoring and an episode of Live PD I don’t want to miss. Be nice to have a quiet evening, alone.”

  Not surprisingly, my attempts at playing it cool fail miserably.

  “Right,” Ben says mockingly.

  “Can I talk to Mak?” I ask in an attempt to distract, as I try not to look in Nick’s direction.

  My daughter sounds excited to be spending some time with her uncle, which goes a long way to alleviating any guilt I might feel at my own excitement over a night minus kid.

  By the time I tell Mak I’ll see her tomorrow and hang up, Nick has cleared away the remnants of our lunch and is looking at me with barely contained heat.

  “You know that’s not going to happen.”

  “What?” I look at him confused.

  “Any of it,” he clarifies as he closes the space between us. “Laundry, TV, alone, or quiet—none of that is going down.”

  “Is that so?”

  I tilt my head back as his arms slip around the small of my back and tug me close. His normally warm brown eyes are like hot coal, almost glowing with intensity as he looks into mine.

  “Fuck yeah...I have ten years of pent-up fantasies to live out. I wouldn’t survive trying to tackle them all in one night, but I’m sure as hell going to make a dent.”

  I don’t know whether to swoon, laugh hysterically, or kick him in the nuts, but there’s no denying the warm heat pooling between my thighs—or the nerves churning in my stomach.

  SONOFABITCH!

  What are the fucking odds?

  Thought it was a good plan, for an easy twenty bucks the kid agreed to call the school at a set time. Little shit even thought it was funny.

  I’m waiting at the far end of the parking lot, watching the main school doors open and kids come filing out. I’m all geared up to snatch the bitch’s little spawn the moment I see her walking out, when a black SUV pulls in, blocking my view.

  Move, asshole!

  When it’s clear that’s not happening, I move my truck where I can see better.

  I tense as I watch the driver, some tough-looking, older dude, get out and walk over to a sheriff’s cruiser just pulling up. I’d hoped to be out of here before they showed. Last thing I want is to draw attention to myself, so I can’t do anything but watch as the older guy ends up loading the object of my attention in his shiny SUV, and drives off.

  I slam a fist on the steering wheel, furious my plan failed, when I spot a familiar face in the crowd of kids. That hooker’s dorky little kid. Not only red hair, freckles, and glasses, but also a doped up, drunk skank of a mother and a delinquent big brother. If a God exists, he’s a cruel mo
therfucker.

  No wonder she’s staring longingly after that SUV. I watch as she raises her arm and waves at it, a hesitant smile on her face, and I wonder if she knows my target.

  A new plan forms almost immediately, and when I quietly drive out of the parking lot, over to my temporary lodgings at the trailer park, I’m smiling broadly.

  CHAPTER 16

  Nick

  “Jesus, just get down on the ground, you moron!”

  I chuckle, watching as Stacie gets all worked up over some idiot who just got caught trying to steal a car, and is refusing to back down to the police.

  We’re watching that show of hers. Not exactly my choice, I’d rather be doing something else right now, but things just kept getting in the way.

  It started with the stop we made at Walgreens in Cortez, at Stacie’s request. She insisted I stay in the car while she picked up a few things inside. I did at first, until I remembered that if things would run their course, the way I imagined they would, I might need to get a few supplies of my own.

  I walked in, just in time to catch two employees gossiping loudly about Stacie who was standing in line for the checkout, trying to pretend she didn’t hear every word. They noticed me, but barely spared me a glance, until I stepped in their space.

  “Tell me,” I started, looking from one shocked face to the other. “Does it make you feel better about yourself to harass customers? I sure hope it’s worth it once I’m done talking to—”

  “Let’s go,” Stacie hissed as she pulled me outside by the arm. “It’s not worth it.”

  “Like hell,” I countered, swinging around to face her. “I’m not going to stand by and let them talk about you like that.”

  “No?” she fired back, planting her fists on her hips as she glared at me. “You think making a scene, dragging out the manager, and creating God knows what kind of drama is going to make me feel better? What are just two bitchy cows, I can easily ignore, quickly becomes a circus I can’t avoid. How is that going to help me?”

  “Fuck,” I swore under my breath, recognizing her point. I’d been so eager in my quest to jump in the fray, to exert myself as her hero, that I lost sight of her best interests.

  It was a humbling lesson.

  One that carried through the remainder of the afternoon that included picking up some groceries for the weekend, and making a quick stop to drop some things off for Pops. We weren’t able to get out of there until we tried some of his homemade chicken noodle soup and a chunk of his fresh bread. The bread is something new he’s been trying, and is getting quite good at, but the soup I can remember him making when I was still a little boy.

  I made the mistake of saying something to that effect, which resulted in Pops pulling out an old album he’d been looking through. For an hour, he sat beside Stacie on the couch, flipping through the old pictures, a lot of them embarrassing for me. I’d grown from a chubby child into a large man before I lost all the weight. I wasn’t about to say anything though, it had been a long time since I’d heard Pops talk about my mom. I sat and listened, occasionally catching a sweet smile Stacie would send in my direction.

  It had turned out to be a much different afternoon than anticipated, but a good one nonetheless.

  After we got back to Stacie’s and put the groceries away, I offered to make us a simple omelet for dinner, while she took a shower.

  Right now, sitting beside Stacie on her couch with my feet up on her table, and her feet in my lap, as I listen to her argue with the TV, I can feel the heat building again. My fingers softly stroke the exposed skin of her ankle, and despite her focus on the events playing out on the screen, her reclined body is responding to my touch. That’s where my eyes have been, zoomed in on the tight puckering of her nipples under the thin tank top.

  Any self-consciousness around the scarring on her face and left arm seems to have disappeared around me. I don’t think the remaining insecurities have much, if anything, to do with me necessarily, but more with her. She is starting to believe the way I see her.

  Good, since I’m planning to see all of her tonight.

  I slide my hand on her left ankle up and under her pant leg. Slowly, so she doesn’t pay much attention at first, but when I reach her knee, she turns her head away from the TV and looks me in the eye.

  I hold her gaze as I stroke my hand higher and encounter the puckered skin halfway up the outside of her thigh. She draws her bottom lip between her teeth, pulling at it. A soft hiss escapes her mouth as I run my entire palm up and slide it over to squeeze her butt cheek in my hand. Thank fuck for yoga pants.

  “These are coming off,” I warn her.

  The sounds of her TV program still run in the background but her focus is completely on me. I quickly pull my hand clear and with a firm grip on her elastic waistband, and my eyes firmly holding hers, I slide her yoga pants down her legs, taking her panties along.

  “Beautiful,” I mumble without looking away from her face. I lean over to kiss her slightly-parted lips, my palm purposely sliding up from her hip, following the scar under her top.

  “You haven’t even looked,” she points out, her voice muffled and slightly tremulous against my mouth. I lift away and sit up straight.

  “I don’t need to, to know that,” I tell her. “But I will if you want me to.”

  Accepting her nod as confirmation, I turn my gaze to her feet still in my lap and slowly run up her legs. I take in everything: the smooth, silky pale skin, in sharp contrast to the hard ridges of the purplish, red scarring. Mostly though, I’m drawn to the trimmed nest of ruddy blonde curls at the apex of her legs, and distractedly run my fingertips through.

  My cock, rock hard by now, is straining against my fly. It’s unbelievably erotic, sitting here fully dressed, with the gorgeous, half nude, subject of my dreams in my lap. I have to squeeze my eyes closed and go over balance sheets in my head so I won’t blow a load in my jeans.

  A sharp inhale has me snap open my eyes on Stacie, who looks pained.

  “It’s okay,” she mutters, starting to lift her feet from my lap. I grab them and hold them firmly in place, letting her feel my erection.

  “No,” I disagree. “You don’t get it. I’m trying hard not to erupt in my pants, here.”

  The stressed look on her face slowly morphs into a mischievous smirk, lifting one side of her mouth, and as I watch, she grabs the hem of her tank top and lifts it up and over her head. “Not helping,” I groan.

  Like a fucking homing beacon, my eyes zoom in on the dark rose tips on the creamy white globes of her breasts. Like a goddamn cherry on top. My mouth literally waters and I bend over to have a taste.

  I love the way her body arches off the couch when I suck her nipple deep into my mouth, her other one pleading for attention. Much different than its twin, burns have eaten away at her left breast. The outside of the mound is scarred, right up to the nipple, but on the inside; the skin of her cleavage is smooth and unmarred.

  It doesn’t matter. I slide my open mouth from one breast to the other, tasting every inch of her skin before laving attention on her left side.

  My senses are overwhelmed with her scent, her taste, and the feel of her fingers on the back of my head where she holds me to her. She’s giving me all of her, and suddenly having all my clothes still on, while she has stripped herself bare in every way, feels cowardly.

  Abruptly, albeit reluctantly, I straighten, lift her feet from my lap and stand up.

  “Stay,” I order her when she tries to move.

  I toe off my shoes, peel off my socks, and open the buttons of my fly. I reach my arms behind me and grab my shirt, yanking it over my head. Stacie watches my every move, and I can almost feel the touch of her eyes on my body. My hands pause at the top of my waistband, but then I see her tongue peek out and leisurely lick along her plump bottom lip, and I can’t get out of these damn jeans fast enough.

  My cock bounces against my stomach as I struggle to get my feet out of my pants. It doesn’t help t
hat Stacie slowly opens her legs, exposing the swollen pink lips of her pussy, already slick with her need.

  “Jesus.”

  STACIE

  God, he’s phenomenal.

  I’d had opportunity to check out his chest before, but not the rest of him. Long legs with solid thighs dusted with sparse dark hair. An impressive package, balls high and tight to his groin, his cock deeply flushed and jutting almost straight up, the bulbous head weeping drops of precum.

  Nick stands dead still, watching me take all of him in, a hint of hesitation about him. That glimpse of insecurity is enough to have me sit up, without any thought to my own hang-ups, and put my hands on those solid thighs. His eyes burn hot as he looks into my upturned face. His mouth falls open as I slowly lean in and run the flat of my tongue along the underside of his cock, tracing the thick vein all the way to the crown.

  “Oh fuck,” he exclaims, when I wrap a hand around the base of his length, bringing the head closer to my mouth so I can slide him between my lips.

  The taste of him is heady, but more than that, the effect I have on him floods me with a sense of power I thought I’d lost. The muscles of his thighs tremble. He stares down at me reverently as his hand comes down to cup my face, while I work him gently, but firmly with my mouth and fist.

  He can’t take much, before he braces my head in both his hands and carefully pulls himself free of my mouth.

  “I want inside you, Anastasia. I want the heat of your touch on my skin, so I’m reminded this is not a fucking fantasy, but real.”

  He sits down on the couch and pulls me on his lap, lifting my leg so I’m straddling him.

  “Shit,” he swears, dropping his forehead between my breasts. “I never got around to picking up those condoms at Walgreens.” I don’t know whether to laugh or cry at his defeated tone.

  I end up doing neither; instead I reach over between the pillow and the couch, and fish out a familiar foil packet.

  “You didn’t, but I did,” I admit, smiling into his surprised face.