Off-Season Stud

by Abby Knox

  “It’s unnecessary, but I won’t say no to a big cuddly Newfoundland on my bed, to be honest with you,” Gretchen had replied.

  Matthew fussed around her, adjusting pullovers, taking her pulse, taking her temperature, warming up her hands and feet, massaging her calves. Making her tea.

  “You don’t need to do all this. It’s too much.

  Anyway, the concussion was mild.”

  “It was hard enough to knock you out. Come here.”

  Matthew shone a pen light in her eyes to check her pupils.

  “Still dilating. Good.”

  “You know, you should practice actual medicine at a clinic. You have a perfect bedside manner.”

  “Yours is the only bedside I’m interested in,” he said.

  She groaned and rolled her eyes at the corny sentiment, but in truth, it made her insides jump and release butterflies by the thousands.

  She wanted to finish what they had started earlier in the hospital room.

  “Stop fussing over me, Matthew, and sit still. You’re worse than my mother.”

  “Speaking of, your mother will be here in the morning.”

  “Good,” Gretchen said. “She can relieve you of your Mother Hen duties.”

  Matthew finally listened to her and settled in on the bed next to her. Petosky was lying down by their feet, and they were just able to see over the top of the giant dog to focus on the television screen.

  “I couldn’t get streaming television to work, but I found The Sound of Music and The Little Mermaid on VHS.”

  Gretchen yawned and circled her arms around Matthew’s bicep. “Sounds lovely,” she said with a sleepy edge.

  “Don’t go falling asleep on me, Little Mermaid. You need to stay awake, remember?”

  “I’m not concussed. Also don’t call me that. I’m not a Disney princess.”

  “All right then, my little water nymph.”

  “That’s better,” she said with a tempting edge to her voice. “And besides, there’s only one thing that will keep me awake until your arbitrary deadline for my signs of concussion.”

  “What’s that?” Matthew asked, kissing and inhaling at the crown of her head.

  She grinned and shifted herself so her body was lying on its side, pressed up against Matthew’s left leg, so that his bicep was the proverbial hot dog between the pillowy buns of her breasts.

  She reached out to rest her left arm across his chest.

  She let out a long, contented sigh at the first notes of “The Hills Are Alive.”

  “Dirty stuff,” she replied.

  He laughed and kissed her head again. He breathed in the moment. He was lying in a normal bed, with his extraordinary woman, watching a movie, with a dog at the foot of the bed. Everything was perfectly ordinary and unbelievably comforting to Matthew.

  He had a sadness about him, a darkness that was creeping in. This perfect place with the perfect woman, in a quaint little house on the water, in a place with no people and no humidity, and perfectly running water and drivable roads and buildings with adequate plumbing. It wouldn’t last. It couldn’t last. Things…people…were going to catch up to him.

  Matthew simply inhaled it all. Her mother would arrive tomorrow and she would be OK.

  As for tonight, there was no way Gretchen was going to stop grinding on him. But she needed to rest her bones.

  There was only one thing, logically, to be done.

  Matthew reached up with his right hand and covered her left hand that was on his chest. He opened it up and kissed her in the center of her palm.

  Then he kissed the top of her head, where it rested against his shoulder.

  She sighed again, and then she rubbed one of her tanned sexy legs up against his thigh.

  It took all of his self-control not to roll over on top of her.

  And then, her leg that was on top slid up until it lay across his lower half and he could feel her pussy resting against his hip.

  Matthew was about ready to explode. His cock was demanding to come out and have its way with her.

  “Fuck, lady, what is it you’re trying to get me to do you right now?”

  She grinned and said sleepily, “Heavy petting?”

  “Well, my sweet little nymph, we are not doing the deed tonight. It should be special for you. And it’s definitely wrong for me to take you while I’m also on suicide watch.”

  Gretchen raised her head and looked into his eyes, suddenly wide awake. “I am not suicidal. I never have been, and you don’t need to worry about that. You’re here with me and there’s only one thing on my mind.

  Her hand slipped down the elastic waistband of his shorts and delicate fingers found their way wrapped around his granite-hard cock.

  Gretchen roughly whispered, “So, let me just take care of you tonight.”

  “Oh God.” Matthew fought back against the urge to come. “Slow down, girl, or it’s going to get messy pretty quickly.“

  Gretchen obeyed. She slowed her hands and explored his body. She snaked her hand down around his shaft.

  “Is this good?” Gretchen asked.

  “Girl, you have no idea,” Matthew bit out.

  “I like touching you,” Gretchen said. “You have a very nice cock.”

  Matthew whispered, “It’s all for you. It’s all yours to do with whatever you want, girl.

  “It’s big.”

  It felt as if every cell in his body was about to fall off a cliff for her. “I’m going to make a mess. And I don’t want to make a mess on you.”

  She let go of him, but said, “I don’t mind. I want you to mark me.”

  Damn.

  This was the perfect opportunity for Matthew to get up and go cool off. So he rose, pulled his shorts back up and padded to the bathroom. He looked in the mirror and questioned everything. On the one hand, he was a good guy and he wanted to wait. He wanted to make sure she was OK. He wanted to make sure she was in the right state of mind.

  On the other hand, Matthew was a man with needs, and the woman he needed, wanted him. There would be no stopping things once he got back into that bed.

  Matthew returned to the bedroom stood at the end of the bed. He could not leave her, but he couldn’t have her just yet.

  So the only thing to do was to sleep at the foot of her bed, with that big-ass dog.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, looking down at him curiously.

  “Petosky and I are going to lie here in a wolf pack and keep an eye on you. You need to rest, and I don't want any arguments.”

  Eventually she complied, and she fell asleep.

  Matthew got a few hours’ sleep, but only after he was sure she was really sleeping and not in any danger. A worried doctor’s kind of sleep.

  He woke at dawn, took Petosky for a run, and brought him home to Regina’s. Then he rushed back to Gretchen.

  She was starting to rustle awake.

  He felt she was truly out of danger, finally.

  The truth was, she was more than likely out of danger after she woke up in the hospital yesterday. But he wasn’t going to take any chances last night.

  She had taken enough chances for the both of them.

  22

  Gretchen

  She awoke to the sensation of warm breath between her thighs and rough hands massaging her hips.

  “Umm,” she sighed. She was going to make a joke about needing coffee first. But the sudden spark that shot through her as she realized Matthew was soaking the center seam of her pajama shorts with his tongue woke her up completely and filled her with new energy. Excitement and anticipation.

  This was happening.

  Finally.

  Finally, and with the right guy.

  23

  Matthew

  Matthew slipped out of his flip-flops and lifted her blankets, slowly crawling underneath.

  He eased up toward her from the end of the bed. He nuzzled her tummy through her cotton top and found her belly button, kissing her there, nipping he
r there, and licking over there.

  His face now level with her sweet vee, where he mouthed her pussy with her pajama shorts still on her.

  Gretchen’s body was waking to his touch. She arched her body into his face, urging him along.

  Hovering over her, he slipped his thumbs into her stretchy waistband and pulled off her damp shorts.

  Gretchen was lit up with heat and tossed the blankets to the side.

  “Where’s the dog?” she asked.

  “Back home. I can’t have a canine critiquing me.”

  She giggled. “I don’t think there will be any notes on your methods, Doctor.”

  Matthew studied the soft triangle of her panties, the last thing that stood in the way of having her body completely.

  He knew, though, that her heart and soul were already his. They were already marked on each other. Everyone could see it.

  “Has anyone ever made you come before, my little water nymph?”

  “Nobody but Buzz,” she said with a wicked smile in her voice.

  Matthew’s chest tightened. “Who the fuck is Buzz?”

  He angled upward so they were face to face. She needed to know he was serious.

  But her face was teasing. “My vibrator.”

  He laughed. “Where is it? I’m throwing it out the window, because you’re not going to need it anymore.”

  He returned his attention to the scent of her soaked pussy. Enough waiting. Enough teasing.

  He bit into the elastic of her pale pink panties and tugged them off angrily with his teeth.

  His lips kissed their way up her thigh, across her belly, and back down the other side while she squirmed underneath him and began to whisper his name.

  Her fingers wove through his hair as he inhaled her sweet honey scent. He reached his hands under her ass and lifted her pussy to his mouth.

  Gretchen gasped as he lost himself in her gleaming folds.

  She hissed when his tongue rooted and found her clit, which was hard and ready. He kissed it. He licked it. He squeezed her round little ass cheeks, which fit perfectly in his hands.

  He felt her trying to thrust into his face, to try to ride him and bring her closer to orgasm.

  “Slow down,” Matthew whispered into her heat.

  “I can’t. I’ve been holding myself back from you since day one,” she said breathlessly.

  “Slow down or I stop,” he teased, propping himself up to make eye contact with her. Her face, neck and apple-sized breasts were scarlet with the racing of her pulse.

  “Oh my god, you are evil !” she cried. He watched as one hand tore at the sheets, her other hand mussing his hair urgently, all but daring herself to push his face back into her core.

  He smiled and lowered himself to her face, saying, “I just want you to relish and remember every moment of your first time.”

  “How could my body ever forget anything about you?”

  Her words caused the tiniest of lumps to form in his throat.

  He hoped they were true, even if he had to go away.

  But no, he wouldn’t entertain that melancholy thought right now.

  Matthew inched down to kiss her, sharing her own sweet juice with her. Gretchen took it all in, letting go of his hair and of the sheets and cupping his face. She devoured his mouth. He let her legs wrap around him and he rubbed his groin up against her.

  She groaned, “Ummm, why are you still wearing pants?”

  He grinned and kissed up her jawline and down her neck, across her collarbone. “Because I’m doing you first. All in good time, my little nymph.”

  Matthew placed a kiss at the dip between her collarbones, remembering the sweat that had pooled there as she had chopped wood that first week they’d met. The time he had had his first full-on boner for her.

  He nibbled his way down between her breasts, bypassing the beautiful, tempting fruit that dared him to stay and play. He returned his mouth to his favorite place, between her legs. Her little button was still ready, waiting for him. He poured everything into her pleasure, working over her clit, her folds, and sinking his tongue into her depth.

  As he built her up toward her climax, Matthew adjusted himself so he held her bottom up with one arm. He used his free hand to knead one perfect breast, and then the other.

  Her moaning and chanting of his name grew louder until she cried out with a great explosion. Her pussy contracted, her back arched, her fingers pulled at his hair. She pulled so hard it hurt, but damn if it wasn’t the sweetest pain Matthew had ever felt.

  He could not then believe his luck, as he realized Gretchen had soaked herself even more for him.

  Oh my god, she’s a squirter.

  He lapped up every last bit of her juices until he was drunk with her.

  “OK,” she said, as her body began to calm its shuddering. “Now you.”

  “As nice as that sounds,” he said, pulling himself upward to face her again, “I’m just going to hold you for a moment. I just want to look at you as I hold you in my arms.”

  “But…” she protested, but Matthew shushed her with his lips on hers.

  24

  Gretchen

  She wondered how long he could kiss and touch her like this without needing release.

  Surely, he was ready.

  But then an insecure thought creeped in. Maybe he was being nice? Maybe he had felt guilt over leaving her alone on her bad day, about her accident, about the way Nicholas had treated her? Maybe all of this was just him being generous, the way he was with his money?

  They continued to kiss and caress for what seemed like hours. His hands fit perfectly on her ass, on her breasts, on her pussy. Her body responded like it had been waiting just for the doctor’s hands. She pushed the insecurities out of her mind.

  Because, holy shit, the man could kiss.

  The man could make her come with his mouth faster than any vibrator. And at the age of 27, Gretchen had worn out plenty of them.

  And most of all, the man could be trusted.

  Later that afternoon, Gretchen reached across the mattress to find he wasn’t there.

  She sat up, looked around, and breathed a sigh of relief when she spotted his shirt on the floor. She picked it up and sniffed it. His scent made her heart race and her face heat up.

  After coming—what was it?—three times that morning, the scent of his shirt still made her body flutter with desire.

  She pulled the shirt on, and when she stood, it fell well down to her thighs, plenty long enough to putter around the cabin if he were still there. Not that there was anything to hide, but still, she had yet to get a really good view of him fully naked.

  Matthew was in the kitchen, heating up something in the oven that smelled totally delicious.

  “More neighbors stopped by with casserole dishes. I think this one is Mexican,” he said.

  Gretchen then realized she was starving and gratefully took two plates out of the cabinet.

  When they finished—two plates of tamales each—Matthew informed her that he was taking her out on a proper date. His ice-blue eyes made sure she understood it was not a request.

  Gretchen pouted. “I was hoping to climb on top of you first, but I guess it can wait until we get back.”

  Once they were headed away from Sandy Lane and bumping down the path toward the highway, Gretchen realized he was right. She needed some fresh air and scenery.

  They needed a proper date.

  Almost as soon as they hit the mile marker where cell phone service became available, Matthew switched on his phone. Seconds later, it was blowing up with notifications.

  Being the good citizen that he was, he pulled his Jeep over to the side of the road next to a hay field to listen to his voicemail. When a woman’s authoritative voice announced herself, Matthew quickly took the phone off speaker and held it to his ear.

  Gretchen’s stomach plummeted.

  Her mouth went dry.

  Who is that? she wondered. She hoped against hope that it wa
s a sister. A spinster aunt. She’d even be OK if it were a daughter—hey, they didn’t know each other all that well, and everybody has a past.

  She could not make out what the woman was saying, but she conveyed an urgency that Gretchen did not like. Matthew’s forehead was furrowed.

  He didn’t get through half the messages before he began calling the woman back. But even in the middle of that, another call came through. He answered.

  “It’s me.”

  Gretchen could overhear the same female voice. It sounded serious. All business. Almost upset.

  Surely, he wasn’t married?

  Surely, he would have told her.

  Surely, he would not have cheated on a distant wife with Gretchen after showing enough morals not to touch Gretchen while she was still in a relationship with Nicholas?

  She listened intently. The woman wasn’t even letting Matthew speak. Then Gretchen was sure she heard the words, “We’ve triangulated your position. Stay put, they’re coming for you right now.”

  Gretchen’s heart then moved from down low in her stomach, up into her throat. It felt like her throat, eyes and chest were on fire with panic.

  Matthew was still on the phone, but she no longer cared to remain politely silent.

  “Matthew, what the fuck is going on?”

  He looked at her with a world of regret on his face. “I’m so sorry. I couldn’t tell you.”

  Tears of rage filled her eyes. “Are you married? Are you a fugitive?”

  He dropped the phone without hanging up, grabbing her face in his hands. “No. I am not married. I’m not a fugitive. I promise you that. Do you believe me?”

  Gretchen’s eyes searched him. He was telling the truth.

  “Yes,” she squeaked. “But I still don’t understand…”

  “I’m a government contractor. I am a professor at New York University, that part is true. But I also have another profession. I’m an epidemiologist and the government has taken a special interest in my work. I resisted, but they offered me a ton of money. I couldn’t turn it down, but I wish I had. I signed a contract. Every year it’s another disaster. Last year, they sent me to the Caribbean Islands, helping treat villagers who’d lost access to clean water after the hurricanes. It was grueling. Traumatizing. It almost did me in.”