by Faye, Carmen
“This is delicious!” I couldn’t help but exclaim. “Who’s responsible for this?”
He pointed at Ginger and she smiled with a mouthful, looking proud. I was impressed again.
“Thank you for this, honey. This is amazing.”
“Thank you, Miss Bennett. I like it best, too,” she said and reached for the last turkey and rye bread sandwich.
“Yes, she has a real talent in the kitchen, this one,” her father joined in.
“Hey, Dawson! Having a picnic, I see! Hello, Mari!” we heard from behind us.
One of our neighbors, a round man who, I remembered, worked as an accountant for some big corporation, approached us. He was taking his regular stroll through the neighborhood and, jovial as he was, decided to approach us.
“Hi, Albert. Care to join?”
He looked at the array of sandwiches on the plate, visibly interested, but shook his head. His eyes fell on my hands. I has holding my sandwich tightly, careful not to waste any of its goodness. “No, thank you. The old ball and chain put me on a diet, she did. Says something about my cholesterol and I believe her. Do I have a choice?” he laughed. I tried to smile back politely as Dawson stood and shook the man’s hand. “Married life is wonderful. How’s, uh… your life treating you, Mari?”
I blushed. The subtlety was clear as day. Trying to keep my mouth shut, I forgot to chew. The words I was trying to keep at bay were too strong for the time and place; I simply didn’t like the way I was treated just because this corner of the world felt appropriate to live by ancient standards. I wanted to get married, too, but that didn’t mean I would give up a career or settle just to stop neighbors from gossiping.
Thoughts began to build inside me and I was on the brink of spilling them out when Dawson, probably watching me, decided to break the uncomfortable silence that had settled over us.
“Well, I suppose you have to listen to your wife,” he said. “Too bad, though. How’s your work going?”
“Fine, thank you. Looking forward to a bit of vacation, if you know what I mean,” Albert replied, winking at Dawson.
I, for one, didn’t know what he meant, but decided against getting too involved. Dawson exchanged a couple more pleasantries with the visitor then sent him on his way swiftly. I followed his diplomacy with interest, surprised to learn he knew his way with words better than I imagined.
When he sat back down, he smiled at me, then looked at Ginger. His eyes widened with surprise as he saw his daughter struggling to finish another sandwich. “How did you manage that, baby?” he asked her, real interest permeating his voice.
“I was hungry, daddy.”
He looked at me as if to make me a witness to this scene. I shrugged. “She never eats that much,” he explained.
“Oh?” I replied, having some ideas as of why would that be, but Ginger beat me to it.
“Miss Bennett told me food has better things in it that are good for me and that I should not eat sweets and fruit before a meal so I can eat more food.”
“Is that so?” he asked, regarding me with obvious gratefulness. “And here I was thinking you didn't eat enough.”
“I suppose Miss Bennett knows better than you, then,” the little girl replied and we started laughing. She looked puzzled.
“That was the best comeback I ever heard, if you want my opinion,” I managed to say.
Dawson nodded, still laughing openly. Ginger’s choice of dealing with us with a shake of her head didn't help in settling the raspy cascade of laughter that had seized him.
I felt proud for making him happy. I wanted to thank him for accepting my intervention and his happiness made me feel more comfortable. I even dared to have another sandwich.
The rest of the picnic went smoother and I was sure I haven’t enjoyed myself that much in a long time. At the end, I helped carry the plates to his kitchen and he stole a kiss from me while Ginger was in the bathroom.
“Are you free tonight?” he whispered and my body felt his words in every fiber and cell. I nodded, already picturing our bodies together, passionately making love. He smiled and I was beginning to suspect he had a way of reading my thoughts.
Still blushing after our short tête-à-tête, I pulled back when Ginger walked into the kitchen. She didn’t seem to notice anything suspicious and I took advantage of them negotiating over which ice cream to eat and made my excuses to leave. He didn’t stop me but his eyes promised pleasures I couldn’t wait to have.
CHAPTER THREE
“What are you doing this weekend?” he asked, as I was trying to tie my hair in a ponytail.
The same blonde strand kept rebelling and I never knew what to do about it. It was becoming really annoying. I pulled my scrunchie off, again, and started over, feeling the anger rising in my gut. A sudden wave of calmness washed over me, as he put his hand around my waist and nuzzled in the curve of my shoulder.
“Bad hair day, baby?”
I felt butterflies swirling in my core from the touch of his breath, as the vibration of his low voice resonated through my body. I moaned and turned to face him. My hair was no longer a concern.
“Not important. Baby?” I murmured, looking up at him through hooded eyes.
“Mmhmm…”
I couldn’t hide a big grin, but he squashed it with a kiss.
“So?” he said, ending the dance of our mouths.
He saw the puzzled look in my eyes, so he clarified, “This weekend.”
“Oh. I don’t have anything planned. Why? Do you?” I answered, in a tentative voice.
He smiled and let go of my waist. Bringing a hand up, he slowly caressed my cheek. “It’s not like that. I wish it was, but I have to work.”
“Oh? What do you do, anyway?” I asked, turning around to pick up my shirt. I smiled at the disarray my clothes lay in. It screamed hot sex and I felt good about it. He had called me ‘baby,’ after all. My smile widened, as I put the light fabric on.
“Nothing fancy, really,” he said. I felt like he was avoiding the question. He cleared his throat, then continued. “I’m a bouncer at a club downtown.”
I turned to him, a frown on my face. “And Ginger?” I asked, genuinely concerned.
“That’s why I asked you about your weekend.”
“Yes?” I urged him, though I had a suspicion I wouldn’t like what he was about to say.
He cleared his throat again. “I was thinking of asking you if you could look after her this weekend. I really need to work and there’s the money issue…”
“I understand. You don’t have to explain,” I said, and bent to pick up my pants. I didn’t know what to say. “Want some coffee before you leave?” I asked, trying to make some time to think for myself.
He nodded. He looked like a man who understood my thoughts. I smiled, as I pulled my pants on, and gestured towards the door. In the kitchen, he sat on the barstool and kept quiet.
I busied myself with the French press and thought of what he asked. I liked this man. Ever since he had moved next door, I felt an uncanny attraction to him. He did look like trouble, with his roaring motorcycle and devilish good looks, but I couldn’t help it. Especially seeing how he took care of his little daughter, the deal had been sealed in my heart.
I would’ve done anything for him, especially since I liked little Ginger very much. She was one of my favorite students, clever, always ahead of her class. And I had trouble with exactly this: her being my student. Concerns like what will happen with my job if word got out about me being involved with a parent in my class or what my gossiping neighbors would do if they found out were just a few of the thoughts racing through my mind.
I didn’t look up as I poured us two cups of coffee. I slid his across the table and grabbed mine with both hands. I knew I had to say something, but I didn’t know what. I wanted to help, I really did, but something held me back. And I felt guilty for feeling this way. After all, it was Ginger’s best interest at stake. So I raised my head and looked at Dawson.
My eyes darted to his. “No,” I stated vehemently. “Absolutely not.”
I was about to continue with my reasoning when I saw a mischievous smile creeping on his lips. I stopped. He looked so handsome when he smiled; those dimples on each cheek giving him the manliest look I never thought dimples could.
“It’s fine if you don’t want anything, but I suspected you’d have accepted this without objection. Then again, I don’t like to sound too cocky…”
“What is it?” I asked, smiling in my cup.
“If you had let me finish…” he teased.
“Oh, come on!” I whimpered.
He started laughing, infecting me with cheerfulness. He stood up and came across the kitchen to me. “I was thinking of exchanging weekends looking after Ginger with nights exactly like the one we just had,” he whispered, trailing his breath along my neck.
I felt my pussy clench and I needed him to take me again. But I knew we didn’t have time. I needed to go to school, and he needed to get back to Ginger. A sigh burst out of my chest, prompting him to chuckle.
“Is this an offer you can’t refuse?” he said, caressing my back with his strong hands.
“Mmhmm,” I murmured, sipping some coffee to regain my composure. “Okay. I will help you. I like Ginger lots and I really am looking forward to this weekend. Honestly.”
“Really?”
“Yes. We’ll have a girl’s weekend. Lots of fun, what do you know…”
He laughed again, stirring my butterflies in a frenzy. “Okay, then. Thank you, Mari. Really.”
He bent and kissed me and I reached my hand into his hair, keeping him longer, taking control of his mouth. “I think you’re just cocky enough,” I said, getting up for air.
He smiled that smile again, and I swooned in response. “Do you have to go soon?” he asked, lifting the cup to his lips.
“Yes, I should change my shirt. I need to get going,” I replied, checking my wall clock. I learned that, if I wouldn’t hurry up that second, I would be terribly late for work.
“I’ll walk with you. Go, get ready.”
I placed the cup in the sink and hurried to the bedroom.
I heard him say, “We don’t want you fired now, do we? I couldn’t afford to pay you for a full time babysitting job.”
“You’d have to, if it came to that,” I threw back, while struggling to fit my round hips in a pair of jeans. “With you being responsible for me being late and all.”
I heard him laugh before I closed the bathroom door.
CHAPTER FOUR
“Goodbye, Miss Bennett!” Ginger said, her entire body buzzing with happiness. I smiled, knowing the little girl had waited her father’s return patiently, unaccustomed to spending so much time with her teacher.
“Be good, Ginger. Yes?” I said, ruffling the mop of hair so fitting for her name. Her mother must’ve been a true redhead, if Ginger came out with this beautiful color, given that her father was as dark as they came.
He looked at me with that smoldering smile that sent ripples through my core. “I hope you had a good time,” he said, his eyes thanking me more than his words ever could.
I nodded. “Yes. We might need to get better acquainted, but I think we’re fine. I was surprised to find she really has that great talent for cooking, she does.”
Dawson didn’t look surprised. “I wasn’t lying.”
Ginger nodded vigorously, showing her wide, white teeth with pride.
We laughed. Then silence fell over our conversation, as I looked into Dawson’s eyes, as I lost myself in their cold steel. He smiled again, warming up the light flickering in his gaze that turned my insides into mush.
.“Daddy, can I have some ice cream now? I’ve been good, I promise.”
“Sure, baby. I know you’ve been good. Shall we have some vanilla, then?” he said, once the moment was over.
“No,” she scrunched her nose. “Chocolate chip. Or strawberry. No, chocolate mint!”
She couldn't contain herself as he lifted her to his chest. He looked amazing in his father role. The contrast between his darkness and roughness, against Ginger’s innocence and light, presented a delightful view. I took it in, relishing in the moment. “Okay, then. We shall have them all, baby.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really.”
“Take care, now. Not too much of everything!” I couldn’t help but intervene. And I would’ve blushed in embarrassment if it weren’t for Dawson’s welcoming gaze. “Be careful, now. Off you go.”
“Goodbye, Miss Bennett. Say goodbye to Miss Bennett, baby.”
“Goodbye, Miss Bennett,” she said, waving joyously as her father turned around and crossed my lawn to his house.
I stayed and watched them, waving back at Ginger, who seemed more tolerant of me now that she was with her father. Then I turned and walked inside. I started gathering the things Ginger played with and I heard myself sighing a couple of times.
Once the house was back in order, I decided I should have a very light dinner, consisting of just plain yogurt and a granola bar. I felt too tired to cook and I suspected take-out would just make matters worse.
All things done for the day, I prepared a bubble bath and undressed. Under a novel impulse, I threw a fizzy ball into the tub and carefully stepped in. I loved the smell of lavender in the evening and I hoped it would relax my unsatisfied need for Dawson Holt.
As it turned out, lavender doesn’t work on sexual drive. The hot water gently touching my pussy and the fuzziness of the aromatherapy ball combined to result in my heightened desire and the decision that I should take care of myself if I wanted to have a peaceful night.
So I lay my head back and reached between my legs. I found my wetness more than eager to be tampered with, but I told it in my head that we shall do by ourselves tonight. My fingers caressed around my clit, at first, pictures of Dawson and his generous member taking over my thoughts.
I wanted to feel him inside me. I wanted to be taken by him. Hungry for his strong touch, I slipped a finger inside, a moan echoing through my minimalist-styled bathroom. Slowly I felt the pleasure rising and, although not even a close match to the real sensations that would have filled me if my fantasy were real, I brought myself closer to climax. The only thing resounding in my ears was by shallow breathing, which, paradoxically, seemed louder than ever.
Then, my pleasure spiked, as I felt a strong foreign thrust. I opened my eyes to see Dawson bent over the tub, one hand pleasuring me and the other still holding the t-shirt he had taken off. I ground my pelvis into his hand, unable to speak. I needed his touch and it all seemed like a dream. I felt him change gears and pushing two fingers inside. He licked his lips watching me come undone around his hand.
I came. I couldn’t hold it. My body stiffened and I would’ve slipped if his strong arm hadn’t held me so securely.
“I don’t know how to take that,” he said, sucking his fingers clean.
“What?” I asked, my voice raspy and weak.
“Should I be offended you started without me, or proud that you couldn’t resist anymore?” he explained, smiling wolfishly.
I felt my face flush and I looked away. The way he discovered me was embarrassing, to say the least. And he was in the mood for jokes.
“All right. Come here. Let’s get you the real thing,” he concluded, lifting me out of the water and depositing my still shaking body on one of my biggest towels.
He dried my skin with delicate moves, teasing my erogenous spots along the way. He followed with his mouth on my neck, trailing kisses to my breasts. I could only hold on to his broad shoulders, barely breathing. My legs were getting into the habit of parting by themselves and welcomed him between them. He gladly took his place and laid me on the floor. Bent on top, he took one n
ipple in his mouth, sucking it gently. I moaned, closing my eyes to focus all my energy on feeling him.
He freed my nipple, leaving it swollen and eager for more play, and went to the other one, flicking it with his tongue until it became hard as a diamond. I whimpered, begging unintelligibly.
“What?” he asked, his voice betraying his desire. I whimpered some more, his fingers sending shockwaves wherever they moved on my skin. “I can’t hear you, baby. How would I know what to do if I can’t hear you?” he teased, careful not to touch me with more than the very tips of his fingers.
I growled like an animal in heat, trying to open my eyes. I reached a hand and grabbed his shaggy hair and pulled it as I moaned as loud as my state would let me, “Take me, Dawson. Take. Me.”
