Mine to Protect

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Mine to Protect Page 72

by Sarah J. Brooks


  “There you go, Isabella.”

  His voice was smooth, seductive, and sexy, which was hard to pair up with the body that stood in front of me. The man in front of me looked more like a killer than a seducer. The muscles in his arms bulged with definition. Not bulk, but a refined sense of power. Even the way he clenched his jaw made me think of someone who was hiding something and wasn’t going to let you find out.

  “Wow, thank you. That was pretty amazing. How did you know which one it was? You hardly looked at them? That was really awesome,” I said as I brushed my hair to the side and pressed my breasts forward in an effort to seduce him.

  Was this guy even seducible?

  “Just luck I guess,” he said as he looked me over.

  I dropped the rock as I tried to get the key out, and he quickly retrieved the key from the grass. I’m not sure if he was so helpful because I was annoying him by waking him up in the middle of the night or if he was just a nice person. Maybe he was a horrible person and wanted to take me right there in the grass? But then again, I would have loved every moment of that.

  He took the key and walked over to my front door. I tried to keep up, but my short legs and high-heels were just no match. I stumbled over behind him and finally made my way up the steps to the front door. By the time I got to my door, he had it open, and stood there with the key in his hand.

  “Goodnight, Isabella.”

  His hand touched mine as he passed me the key, and instantly my body reacted with a surge of energy. I didn’t know who he was, or why he was living in the old abandoned neighbor’s house, but he could touch me with those hands any time he wanted.

  “So how long have you lived there? I didn’t know anyone had moved in,” I asked the gorgeous mystery man.

  “I just moved in.”

  “Ahh, so you’re new to town? How’s that going for you? Wait, why did you come to Bain? It’s not like we are a happening town.”

  As I kept talking, I tried to force myself to be quiet, but I just couldn’t stop. The more I looked at this man, the worse my tongue-tied condition got. The light of my porch intensified his muscles, and I’m pretty sure my brain actually stopped working.

  I tried not to make a fool of myself, but his body was just too much for my brain to comprehend. Muscles so defined he looked like he could be one of those Navel Seals or something like that.

  My eyes fixated on his naked chest with the desire to feel it against my body. Every impulse jetting through me said not to touch his chest. Yet my hand had a mind of its own.

  Sure enough, without warning, and likely fueled by the large alcohol courage I had …

  … I touched his chest.

  Right there on my front porch in the middle of the night and without warning. My drunken hand reached out and touched his chest!

  It would have been bad enough if that’s all that happened, but I couldn’t stop myself. My verbal garbage kept coming out. It had been a month since Stanley had come to visit, and I had no men living with me. I’d gone from having sex two or more times a day to having zero sex. My body was on fire; it needed a man, and my body had a mind of its own as this gorgeous beast of a man stood right there in front of me.

  “Oh, my God, you work out. Yeah, you definitely work out. Is that all you do all day long is workout?”

  He stood there with the same calm and cool look as when he first saw me on my knees in his flowerbed. He was the quintessential strong silent type. His face was serious and observed me with just the slightest bit of a smirk forming at the corners of his mouth.

  “To answer your first question, I’m here to relax and get away for a little while.” He looked down at my drunken hand still sitting on his chest. “Yes, I work out.”

  Maybe it was the alcohol wearing off, but I suddenly realized my hand was on his chest, and I removed it. My eyes looked at his and then down at his chest again. What had come over me? This was not my usual behavior. Then again, a sexy guy like this on my front porch was not my usual evening, either.

  I could feel the flush of embarrassment start filling up my face. I stopped looking at his chest and made eye contact with him, but that was worse than looking at his chest. This wasn’t a man who knew me or knew my desire for sex. This was a stranger who I should have been more cautious around.

  “Oh, alright. Yeah, I kind of thought that you were a workout kind of guy. I like to run. But I don’t get out as much as I would like, and I certainly don’t run for long distances. Maybe down a few blocks and back. Like one mile tops. I take pictures. That’s what I like to do. You know photography … that kind of stuff?”

  My mouth had apparently joined the self-governing philosophy revolution and would not stop. I wanted to stop talking. I just couldn’t send the impulse from my brain to my mouth to make it happen.

  “Well, you have a nice night, Isabella.”

  He turned to walk away, and I stood on my porch and watched him. I waited for him to look back at me, ready with one last wave goodnight. Ready to try and seduce him if I had any possible chance, but he didn’t turn around.

  “Goodnight!” I yelled as he disappeared around the corner of the neighbor’s house toward the back door.

  I closed my front door and stood inside pondering who this man was and what he was doing in tiny little Bain, Missouri. He had this quiet calmness about him that was fascinating. I had never met a man who seemed to have so much self-control, like a vigilant soldier with his senses finely tuned.

  I turned the lights off in my house and tried to look out at the neighbor’s house. I just wanted to see if there was any movement inside of his house. Perhaps I secretly wanted to get one last peek at that chiseled chest of his? But I was disappointed, and there wasn’t a single sign of movement throughout his house.

  As I drifted off to sleep, I couldn’t help fantasizing about being with the gorgeous neighbor. I had not even considered another man as a sole partner since Michael’s death, so it surprised me how easily this man was filling my thoughts. I had so much desire for this mysterious neighbor that I actually thought of having him and only him.

  Normally, the memory of Michael and our years together was just too much for my brain to even consider. He had been my first love, my high school sweetheart. After losing Michael a year before, I never thought I could ever move on. Having multiple boyfriends was the only way I’d found to fill that void. And I loved this new life. I loved having men around to care for me and please me. It was a different life than Michael and I would have had, but it felt like home to me.

  The thoughts I had about the gorgeous stranger made me so happy because they were the first true signs that I would someday be able to move on. And perhaps my fetish for having multiple men would just be a phase.

  As I drifted off to sleep, I saw the stranger’s face in my mind, his chiseled, serious face, with just the right touch of softness. His demeanor was so relaxed and calm for such a late hour. It struck me as odd that he was so readily awakened in the middle of the night, but I was happy he did wake up. Getting to meet him was just what I needed to give me hope that someday I could move on with my grief and loss of my fiancé, Michael.

  Chapter 2

  I heard the distinctive knock of Stanley on the front door before I could even open my eyes. There was no need to hurry and get up, though; I’d given him a key a long time before. It had been a few weeks since Stanley wanted to play, but man did I miss our time together.

  “Isabella, are you alright?”

  “Yeah, I’m good, just sleeping. What’s up?”

  “I text you last night, and you said we were doing coffee today,” Stanley said as he stood at the end of the bed and started to unbutton his flannel shirt. “I was worried.”

  “Oh, yeah, wow, I totally forgot about that,” I said as I opened my phone and saw the text I’d sent to him. “Come here, I’ve missed you.”

  I threw the blankets back and exposed my naked body to him. We were so comfortable with each other that I knew he
would climb right in, and I couldn’t wait.

  As he slipped out of his clothes, his body throbbed with excitement for me. Stanley had an above average body which he often hid behind below average clothing. When he climbed into the bed, I instantly grabbed for him and started to stroke him.

  I was in desperate need of an orgasm. Not the kind that I’d get from a toy or my fingers, no, I needed a hard thick member thrusting inside of me. Stanley just seemed to know exactly what I needed as his fingers started to play with me, and I soaked with excitement for him.

  There wasn’t going to need to be a bunch of foreplay for this morning of fun. I was ready for him within moments and reached over to the drawer to hand him a condom. Normally, I would have done the honor myself, but I could hardly open my eyes from the aftermath of alcohol, so this morning was going to be Stanley’s morning to be in charge.

  He climbed on top of me and didn’t hesitate as he slid his body into mine. I loved the size of him and how he made me uncomfortable for just a moment while my body adjusted to having him inside of me.

  His strokes were long and hard. I wrapped my arms and legs around him tightly and urged him to move faster and harder. I just wanted to forget everything and feel the pleasure of his body and mine as they exploded in ecstasy.

  My hips thrust hard against him, and I rubbed my clit against his body as well. The pleasure was building up quickly, and I knew Stanley wasn’t going to wait for his explosion. We’d been away from each other for a little bit, and that meant that Stanley was eager to cum, but so was I.

  “Harder,” I ordered him.

  He grabbed my legs and put them onto his shoulders as he pounded deep inside of me. I loved every moment of it and soon felt my body rumbling with the pleasure that I needed so desperately that morning.

  Stanley thrust deep into me, and as soon as I motioned that I was starting to cum, he let himself release into the pleasure as well. Together, we thrust our bodies in perfect timing until we both exploded at nearly the same time.

  “Fuck,” Stanley groaned. “I can’t stay away from you.”

  “Then don’t,” I teased him as he fell next to me in the bed.

  My phone started to ring, and I knew exactly who it was going to be. She had impeccable timing and a sense for when I was in the middle of anything fun.

  “Are you alright?” Willow said loudly into the phone.

  I’m not sure if she was actually loud or if my body was reacting profusely to the large amount of alcohol I had consumed the night before and my total dehydration.

  “Shhhh, not so loud,” I said as I tried to pry my eyes open and hold a normal conversation with my friend.

  “I’m talking in a regular voice. Are you just getting up? Geeze Isabella, it’s almost one o’clock in the afternoon.”

  Sitting up in my bed, I squinted with one eye as I looked at the clock. I couldn’t remember ever sleeping in that late, even on a Sunday. Typically, I had my days filled with so many things to do I would wake up out of pure worry that I wouldn’t get them all done. I really had thought Stanley came over much earlier than he had. My whole timing for the day was totally thrown off.

  “I guess I am,” I said with a smile.

  “So you’re alive, and I can call off the search crews, great.”

  “Yes, I’m fine. I’ll see you tomorrow morning for coffee. I’m just going to nurse this hangover for today.”

  “Take some aspirin, drink some water, oh, and some orange juice too.”

  “Alright. Alright. I have to go. See you tomorrow.”

  My bladder was about to explode, and if Willow had not willingly hung up, I’m sure I would have just done it myself. Willow was a kind soul who really did care about everyone. After losing my parents to illness and Michael to a car accident, Willow had been the best person in the world to lean on. When I’d taken three men into my apartment, she was worried about me, but even then she let me be when she saw how happy I was.

  As I brushed my teeth, the memory of the gorgeous stranger hit me, and I had to go look out the window. It didn’t look any different over there at the neighbor’s house. I watched intently to see if I noticed any curtains moving as he walked passed, or perhaps I would get lucky enough to see him come outside again.

  I tried to peer around to the garage out back to see if there was a vehicle there, but I couldn’t see from my bedroom.

  I moved my snooping self down to the kitchen as I made a cup of coffee. The sweet and bitter taste hit my pallet with a bang, and I could feel the caffeine start rushing through my body. I needed that desperately.

  Stanley came down the stairs and joined me for a brief coffee before I sent him on his way. Even though I really loved our visit that day, I had a bit of a fixation on the guy across the lawn, and I was focused on getting to see him soon.

  “When should I come over again?” Stanley asked as I walked him to the door.

  “Text me. We can arrange something. You know how it is.”

  “Yes, I do. I’ll text you later tonight,” he said and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving.

  The memory of the hot neighbor’s body still burned in my brain; I could still feel his warm olive skin on my hands. I licked my lips with desire as I thought about his lips. Their perfect color and roundness; oh, how I wanted to feel them against mine. It was like a sweetness on my mouth as I thought about the neighbor and how he could please me with those lips of his.

  My eyes stayed focused on his house, just waiting for him to come out shirtless like he had done the night before. My body ached to see him again. I didn’t even know his name, but I was filled with thoughts of desire.

  What would his lips feel like on my body? Oh, how I would love to feel them softly moving over every inch of me. Slowly moving from my neck, down to my nipple, and further down to bring me to a tremendous explosion.

  With my coffee in hand, I went out my back door to see if he was anywhere to be seen. I looked around his garage, but there wasn’t a car there. It looked just as empty as it always had. A sinking feeling came over me.

  He was real, right? The idea that he might not have really been there the night before haunted me. I know I had been drunk, but was it possible to be so drunk you imagined a person that didn’t exist?

  As I stood in my backyard looking at his house, I was compelled to get closer and closer to the building. I could feel my heart start quickening with each step. One foot in front of the other, and I made my way into the neighbor’s backyard. I placed my hand on the side door to the garage and slowly twisted the doorknob. It opened.

  When I looked into the garage, it was totally empty. This seemed extremely odd to me. If someone had really just moved in, surely they would have some boxes or other personal belongings that they would be storing in the garage.

  Confusion filled me as I walked up to the house. I placed my face against one of the windows and looked inside. The same old furniture that had sat in there for the last five years was still there.

  The Hendersons had been killed in a car accident, and they had no children. Five years had gone by, but I could still remember it like it was yesterday. They had been arguing for days before the accident, and I believed the husband had purposely driven them off the road. But no one would ever know for sure, the event was officially listed as an accident. Their home was given to a cousin who lived out of town. We all thought the cousin would list the house for sale, but year after year it stayed empty.

  I walked around to the front of the home and without thinking, I knocked. A flash of regret quickly filled my body. What if he was there? I would look crazy to him. Peering in his windows, looking in his garage, knocking on his door; all for no good reason at all.

  Well, in my head I had a good reason. I wanted to see him again. I wanted to see if that electricity I had felt the night before was something real or just something that my mind had imagined.

  I stood timidly waiting in anticipation. I wanted to see him again, but then I was
nervous at the possibility as well.

  My mind raced with thoughts of why a man like that would come to Bain, Missouri. There was no reason for anyone to come to this small town in the countryside of Missouri; well, no good reason at least. He said he had come for a break, but still; no one came to our small town for a break either.

  Everyone who lived in Bain was born there or had the unfortunate luck to have fallen in love with someone who lived there. People just didn’t move to small towns like Bain nowadays.

  After standing for a few minutes in front of the neighbor’s house, I came to the conclusion that I either totally imagined this guy, or he wasn’t home. I slowly made my way back over to my house and called Willow back.

  “Hey, have you heard of anyone moving into the old Henderson house?”

  “No. Why?”

  I hesitated to tell her about the gorgeous guy from the previous night. What if my brain really had made the whole thing up? It was totally possible that in my drunken stupor from the night before, I had imagined the whole incident.

  “Oh, no reason, I just thought I saw a light on over there.”

  “Well, I know the cousin was going to try and rent the house out or sell it or something. But I haven’t heard of anyone being interested. Plus, I think we would have noticed a moving truck if someone had decided to move in.”

  “Yeah, you’re probably right. Okay, thanks.”

  I hung up and was even more confused than before. Willow was right. I would have noticed a moving truck over there. I was almost always home.

  This was getting more and more baffling by the moment.

  Chapter 3

  The days went by, and I didn’t see that gorgeous neighbor of mine. I looked out in the morning, snuck a peak around dinner, and even woke up in the middle of the night to see if I saw any movement over there.

  Surely, his appearance could have been some sort of alcohol-induced psychosis, but my body could not accept that. If I closed my eyes, I could still remember what his skin felt like under my fingertips. I still felt the hard muscle of his chest and the warm flush of embarrassment that filled my body.

 

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