by Tysche Dwai
Call it a faint or exhaustion, Neal could have cared less as he sank to the floor, flat on his back, next to where she curled in a heap of gorgeous legs, tits and ass. If he died now, he could ask for nothing more in the world. God Almighty! What a way to go!
When Jenny woke, the first thing she saw was Neal sprawled on the floor next to her. Because of the security lights outside on the parking lot, the room wasn’t completely dark. For a middle-aged homely cattleman, you sure wore me out. She grinned, remembering his self-description, as she touched his shirt sleeve, the only piece of clothing he still wore.
Sore all over, most muscles stretched by Neal rather than battered by Muscles and Tall and Handsome, she managed to get to her feet. Before he woke, she needed a shower. But before stepping into the bathroom, she glanced back. I’m so glad you’re laid out from making love and not from death. A hard shudder shook her. How close we came to dying.
She barely got the rinse out of her hair before she heard the bathroom door open then close. Thankful she didn’t pop out from behind the tub’s curtain, she heard Neal use the toilet then flush. Chilly water showered her for a moment, and she giggled as she retreated to the end of the tub.
“Jenny?”
“Morning, Neal.” As well as she knew him, she had no clue what he was thinking.
“After you finish, I’m gonna take a shower.”
“Okay.” She held her breath. Surely that wasn’t the end.
“And then sweetheart...” he paused.
Not able to resist, she closed her eyes, prayed and asked, “And then?”
“Then I’m gonna make real love to you.” He opened the door; she heard the knob pop.
“What do you think of that, Jen?”
Ah, back to being hung-up about age and looks. “I think these better be two quick showers.”
A long silence then. “Yeah, that’s what I was thinking.”
She didn’t need to see him to know he grinned.
Jenny sat in the middle of the bed. She listened as the shower came on and smiled when Neal sang a line or two from his favorite song then swallowed nervously when the water stopped running.
What will he think when he comes to me? She’d decided to wait for him, dressed in a paper thin white cotton sleep top, appliquéd with a few strategically placed white roses. The only other thing she wore was a pair of white satin panties that rode low on her hips. A single white appliquéd rose covered her mound. She could hardly wait ‘til Neal got there. What a surprise. In their previous frantic couplings, noticing such things as personal grooming hadn’t been on the agenda. This time he’d notice.
She sat on her legs, hands palm down on her thighs. In the pre-dawn light, the glow from twin lamps cast a delicate light around the room.
The doorknob clicked, rolled over. Neal stepped into the room. What’s he thinking? His face is so blank. Rather than worry, Jenny waited him out. Neal was a man of words though he wouldn’t admit it. He crafted them, sleek and precise, and delivered them like the gifts they were.
Instead of nervousness, she saw the same thing in his expression that she saw the first time they met in the diner. Hope, that’s what she told him. Love, that’s what she held back. What she should have told him. But she’d been scared. She wasn’t any longer.
“Come to me, Neal?” A soft question. One hand held out to him.
Wearing nothing but a large beige towel around his hips, Neal padded slowly across the floor then took her hand.
To her surprise, he leaned over and kissed the back of it then rolled it over and kissed the palm. “Always wanted to do that to you. Ever since that role-playing online.”
One knee on the bed, he loomed over her. Digging his fingers deep into her damp hair, he drew her up until they knelt face to face.
“If you had died out there, I would have too.” That one sentence told her he still had trouble believing they survived. In her service as a law officer, she admitted that was as close as she’d ever come to going down. A life-changing situation and she came through the other side just fine. Same ol’ Jenny.
No, not the same ol’ me. When I came through this time, I brought Neal with me. He wasn’t kissing her yet; he studied her as if he memorized every feature. It was then, in the quiet tender moment of survival, that she admitted something more important. I did not bring Neal through that ordeal. He brought me. Because he loves me. And I love him.
One of her hands slipped to his waist, fit the curve of pale muscle. The other rested atop his on her cheek. A little stretch and she met him halfway in a kiss so delicate it almost wasn’t there. No hurry, no desperation. Just good old-fashioned lovin’.
Their lips more firmly pressed, Neal lowered them to the bed where he rolled to one side. He broke the kiss but kept his hand on her stomach atop the thin shirt. Throwing one leg over hers, he almost lay on her.
Jenny grinned when his gaze traveled to her chest. Both nipples stood at rigid attention, but it wasn’t easy to tell. At least she didn’t think so, but Neal proved her wrong. Leaning on one elbow, he pointed one finger and rubbed a nipple. Lightening shot from his touch to her pussy. She imagined her body going soft, wet and preparing for her lover.
A flick of his nail and her nipple positively jumped. Her breath hitched, and she pushed her chest up, presenting herself, begging for more. Neal settled more fully against her hip, either unaware that the towel parted or not concerned.
After all, it’s gotta come off sooner or later. Jenny leaned up for a quick kiss and turned on her side to face him. When he raised his leg to give her room to turn, the towel disappeared between them.
“You’re faster than me,” she teased him as she wrapped a warm hand around his thickening rod.
“Easy to fix, sweetheart.” And his hand slipped down her side to slip under the band of her panties.
One twist and the panties slid down her legs while she wound up pushing Neal onto his back and sitting on his chest.
“Well, I’ll be damned.” Neal whistled as his eyes darted back and forth between her face and the naked skin between her legs. “When’d you do that?” He lifted a finger to touch but hesitated.
“It’s okay. Go ahead. Never seen a naked pussy?” She lifted her bottom and pushed her nude sex toward his eager finger.
“Nah, but sure is different. Looks sort of...” He blushed but ran his finger around the swollen lips.
“Looks sort of?” She teased him because she sensed he liked what he saw but felt embarrassed.
“Clean.”
Jenny giggled. “So? What are you going to do with it?” Blatant invitation. Will he taste it?
Cupping both ass cheeks in large hands, he pulled her forward and stuck out his tongue. One more hot blush as he caught her smiling expression then lifted his head and ran that strong long tongue between her legs. Every nerve in her body sprang to attention. Each one between her pussy lips wept for his touch. He must have liked the experience because he settled deeper in the mattress and went to sucking like she did for him earlier that evening.
Her body flushed with need and heat. In need of support, she grabbed the headboard and squatted deeper into his mouth. “Neal, God, that feels good.” She rubbed his lips as he teased that tiny bud until it grew large enough for him to nip. A jolt of electricity going through her would not have hit her harder than the climax he evoked. Head back, breasts hard and pointed, she shuddered with spasms as he continued to draw her higher and higher.
One swift motion and he sat her down on his stiff rod. Rather than ride her fast, he pulled her up then pushed into her. A seductive dance in slow motion. His hands traveled between hips and breasts.
And then she found herself under him, buried in the very mattress he once laid on. Warm breath bathed her cheek, firm lips caressed hers, fingers pinched then soothed her aureoles while their bodies worshiped each other.
“Alive and mine.” Neal shoved against her in one smooth stroke, and she swore she felt each jet of life flow between
them. “You and that gorgeous naked pussy.” He grinned as he sank in to her. “Oh woman, you are mine.”
“I do love you, you know.” Neal woke to find Jenny in a pair of sweats and a tank top sitting cross-legged on the end of the bed, apparently watching him sleep.
“I know you do. But there are things in my life...” She had trouble finishing the sentence, and he guessed what she tried to say.
“You’re a Ranger. That’s what you always wanted to be, I bet. What your husband wanted to be. Am I right?”
“Yes. We were both Texas State Troopers, members of the Department of Public Safety. We applied for the Rangers, and I made it. He didn’t. It just about killed Tommy, me being what he wanted to be. His basic conceit, arrogance and mean-spirit came out in full force. When he died in that accident, I almost lost it—torn between sorrow and relief that he wasn’t there to emotionally abuse me any more.”
She sat on the bed with hands clasped loosely in her lap and spoke as if delivering information that meant nothing.
“But I wanted to help, Jenny, and you wouldn’t let me come.” Her need angered him because she had not asked him to help.
“I just couldn’t, Neal. I couldn’t.” Now she got upset. Swung her leg off the bed and tapped the floor nervously with her bare foot.
“Why not? You went through hell ‘cause of that bastard before he died and afterward from the sounds of it.” He threw the sheet aside and stood, searching for his boxers. Once he found them, he pulled them on and went around to stand beside her. “I wanted to be with you. Long before that accident, I knew I loved you.” When her head snapped up and he saw the surprise on her face, he ran a hand through his hair and completed his confession. “You were so easy to talk to. We thought the same but had enough differences that we didn’t bore each other. Why keep this job a secret? Didn’t you think I could handle it?” His tone bordered on sarcastic. The more he thought about what she’d gone through both in her job as a Ranger and in her personal life with a man eaten up with envy, the angrier he got. “Didn’t you think I was good enough? Me being just an Okie cow puncher.”
“Wait a minute, Neal. That’s not fair! I never said you weren’t good enough.” She jumped off the bed and edged around him, her face as upset as he felt. “I do care for you. I just...”
“Just what, Jenny? Just couldn’t handle another man in your life? Want me to stay just a friend? Ain’t happening.” His hand cut the air in definition. “I care too much for you.”
“But, Neal, what if something happens again like yesterday? And I have to go on the assignment and maybe get hurt. What are you going to do? Sit by and watch me die?” She made her way to her purse and opened it. Reaching in, she pulled out a handgun and a badge. “Look at this.” She handed over the badge. “Silver. Means I’m Lieutenant Lincoln. Like the Marines. I work ‘til the job is done.” Then she handed him the gun—grip first, pointed down. “That’s a Sig Sauer .357. It’s loaded. Always is. Can you imagine what would have happened if those two had found that? I prayed they’d not because they would try to do just what they did...kill us.” She touched his arm, the one holding the gun. Carefully she slid her hand down and took it from him, laying the weapon on the table next to the door. “I’d have died if they killed you.” Tears wet her lashes.
“But Jenny, I love...”
“Listen, Neal, I do love...”
They spoke together just as the room’s phone rang. Frustrated at the interruption, Neal walked over and answered it. “Neal Franks.”
“Mr. Franks, Captain Black here. I’ll be quick.” Neal heard a knock at the door. Someone called out, “Ranger Lincoln, Sergeant Sills here with some papers for you.” Jenny headed for the door. Neal turned his attention back to the captain.
“Alex Mendel escaped. Officer in the jail followed correct procedure, but the situation worked to Mendel’s advantage. He’s armed and dangerous. Pass the word to Lincoln and, Franks, keep her under wraps.”
In the blink of an eye, the man’s words sank in, and Neal yelled “Nooo,” as Jenny opened the door.
Boom! Boom! Boom! She flew back into the room and collapsed on the floor, blood pooling beneath her, soaking the carpet red.
“Nooo!” Neal grabbed her Sig Sauer and stepped into the open doorway. Alex Mendel ran toward the second row of cars, a gun still in his hand. Raising the pistol, Neal pulled off three rounds faster than a heart can beat. Too much practice on small game made him an accurate shot. Mendel fell, dead before he landed on the pavement.
Throwing the gun on the bed, Neal sank to the floor, one hand immediately going to a bloody hole in Jenny’s thigh. Damn, he hit an artery. Blood leaked out at an alarming rate. One hand pressed there, he pulled his jeans toward him, yanked out the belt and began wrapping it as a form of tourniquet. Two men stuck their heads in the doorway. “Can we help?”
“Call 9-1-1, and one of you get in here and help me stop this bleeding.” While one made the call on the room’s phone, the other knelt next to Neal.
“Jesus, she’s bleeding like a stuck pig.” The man pressed against a wound in her left shoulder while grabbing Neal’s t-shirt and pressing it against a long injury in her scalp.
“Don’t you die on me, Jenny Lincoln. Don’t you goddamn die on me.” Neal could barely see what he was doing; tears blurred his vision so badly. But how was he to save her this time when her life’s blood bubbled up so fast between his fingers?
When her fingers wiggled, he almost ignored it. Her hand had twitched for the past hour, the effect of coming out of surgery’s anesthesia. This time, they curled up and attempted a weakened squeeze. His head snapped up, and he squinted in the near-dark of the hospital room.
“Jenny? You awake, sugar?” He edged closer, the legs of his chair squeaking in protest as he dragged it nearer to the head of the bed. His breath caught in a near-hysterical laugh when she fluttered her eyes then scrunched them tighter against even the least amount of light.
Quickly he tugged the string on the light above the bed, dimming it even more. Then he pushed the button on the call box. Rather than a nurse asking what he wanted, he heard the quick steps of soft-bottomed rubber shoes marching to the open door.
“She’s waking up.”
The nurse took her vitals efficiently without adding more discomfort to the massive bandaging on her head, shoulder and under the sheet on her leg. She checked the monitors and marked Jenny’s chart. Only then did she acknowledge Neal’s comment. “I think you’re right, Mr. Franks. She should be waking up for real any time now.” Before leaving, the nurse stopped next to him and nodded toward the bed. “She may not remember what happened. Tell her the minimum, but only if she asks.”
Neal nodded and turned his attention back to the woman lying so still under the covers. She’d almost died twice, once in the ER because she lost so much blood and once on the operating table. Surely, her life still has a purpose if she hasn’t died yet.
When she tried to move her head, Neal squeezed her hand hard. “Jenny, lie still. Your head is wrapped up and will hurt if you move it.” She groaned, and he swallowed fear. What if that head wound wiped out her memory of him as well as the shooting? Imagination played hard ball with him for a while. Finally, he came out and told her, “I love you.”
He really didn’t expect her to answer him, and for the longest time she didn’t. But he kept talking to her, every few minutes telling her he loved her. And he reminded her that she loved him as well, though he wasn’t sure that was what she had been about to say just before that bastard Mendel shot her.
When her eyes opened and stayed open, he rejoiced. For long minutes, she stared straight ahead, focused on the ceiling. “Time?” Her voice cracked.
“Just after four in the afternoon.” A cup of water and straw sat on the bedside table, and he lifted it to her lips so she could sip. “Just a little.”
Silence settled around them, the steady whir of the machines the only sound in the tiny room. “What...happened?”<
br />
“Mendel escaped. He shot you.”
“Bad?” Her voice wavered and faded, but she still managed to ask.
“Three shots. Leg, shoulder, creased your hair line.” Because he was glad she lived, he added, “He almost killed you.”
“Where is he?” Each question grew stronger though her hand held his in a weak grip.
How could he tell her he killed another man? But she cut her glance to him, and he couldn’t deny the question in her gaze.
“I killed him.” Neal hung his head, not ashamed of shooting another man but sorry their time together had turned out so wrong.
Raising his head, he caught her glance and held it until even she squirmed nervously. “I love you. Won’t anything change that.”
She said nothing.
“Marry me?”
Her expression softened, but she turned her head away. “Not like this,” she whispered.
“What?” Did she say what I thought I heard?
“Not. Like. This.”
A door slamming shut in his face could not have impacted him more than her words, punctuated by definite periods. She doesn’t love me.
Rather than let her see him cry in disappointment, he leaned over, kissed her hand then laid it on the sheet. “I just wanted to help, that’s all.” He had to clear his throat so his words came out past the lump there.
“Not like this,” she repeated in the hush.
“I still love you, but guess you don’t feel the same.” One hand picked up his worn cap while he stood. “I’ll see you.”
“Not like this.”
“Yeah, I know. You’ve said that a few times.” Not able to stay and be gracious when his heart felt like someone just tore it out of his chest it hurt so bad, he shuffled toward the door. One hand on the frame, he turned, but she wouldn’t look him in the eye. “Love you.”
The door slid shut, and he staggered blindly out of the hospital quickly before anyone could see a grown man cry.
