Virgin's Lust

by Kayla C. Oliver

  As if reading my mind, she unbuttoned her dress, freeing her breasts. They bloomed from their restraints. I took one hand and caressed them as my other hand squeezed her ass with every thrust.

  “More” was all she kept saying.

  “I’ll give you more. I’ll give you whatever you want.” I didn’t think the words. I was barely thinking of anything except her wet heat holding me tightly as I rocked her back and forth against the small cubicle desk.

  She tried to wrap her legs around me, but I pulled back. Instead, I withdrew. It was painful and almost sad. But I did it. I scooped her off the desk, spun her around, and bent her over.

  She squealed with pleasure as my hand found the spot between her legs. I began to rub her feverishly as I easily slid inside. She arched her back, pushing her torso up and out while her hair flowed over her shoulders.

  I buried my head in her mane and inhaled the sweet scent of her musk.

  “More,” she said again. I obliged her. I teased and flicked and rubbed that sweet spot and watched as her cheeks flamed up. She pushed herself back onto me with every thrust. I tried to hold it. I tried to make it last, but when she braced herself against the divider after pulling the top of her dress almost all the way down and hiking her skirt up even higher, I could see her as practically naked. I lost it.

  Everything came crashing down on me at once. My body shook. A wave swelled up deep inside and crashed over me so hard I exploded. Everything broke like a dam, and the waves of orgasm rippled over and over from my very core outward until, sadly, I woke up.

  If there was ever a dream I didn’t want to wake up from it was this one. I was a sweaty mess. But my body tingled as each muscle relaxed. Sleep quickly came to me, and I fell asleep easily, not waking up until the next morning.

  Chapter Seven

  Katy

  It was finally the weekend. I had a good day at work as I was learning the procedures at the West Linn library branch. They weren’t that much different from the Portland library. But there were a few differences. Cindy liked to have all the daily newspapers arranged in alphabetical order. She also made the security guard enter and exit his station from the right only. There was no reason for this except that it was the way Cindy wanted and she was the head librarian. Who was I to waltz in and question the authority?

  She went easy on me for these first few days but gave me a stern warning for the following week.

  “Be prepared to work your tail feather off next week. I told you we were going to be digitalizing the west reference area. It’s going to be a humdinger of an undertaking. You’ll be doing most of the work yourself.”

  “I don’t mind,” I replied. I didn’t. In fact, I loved the idea of being left alone to scan, coordinate, and categorize old material in a new way.

  “I can’t say I’m glad to hear you say that. It makes me wonder what kind of oddity you might really be.”

  I chuckled, but I couldn’t tell if Cindy meant what she said or not.

  When I reached my apartment, I took a look around and once again only saw the things I expected to see. There were a couple guys hanging out at the corner outside the drugstore and paying no attention to me. A handful of people I had never seen before walked the sidewalk. For a second I spotted a silhouette in a car. It was obviously a male, and he was just sitting there. But before my heart froze in my chest he got out and greeted a woman with a handshake as she came from one of the tiny businesses dotted on the opposite side of the street.

  Still, not wanting to tempt fate, I hustled into my apartment building. I checked my mailbox. There was a bill from the electric company there. At least I knew the post office had implemented my change of address.

  I looked at the elevator that was sitting on the ground floor and quickly dashed up the stairs.

  Once behind my apartment door, I locked myself in and let out a deep sigh. The blinds were still drawn down tightly. The only one that was open was in the kitchen because no one could see in from street level. It faced the parking lot where my car sat behind some kind of sedan that actually kept it hidden from the street angle.

  My phone was on the floor. I was probably one of the last remaining twenty people on the planet with a landline. I had a cell, a cheap thing I bought at Wal-Mart to keep with me for emergencies. No one but Cindy at work had the number. No one had the number for the landline either. But out of habit I picked it up and listened. Three beeps. It meant I had a message. I tapped in the code, but the only message was a hang-up. Wrong number? Or was it… no. It wasn’t him. My gut told me it wasn’t him.

  I pulled off my clothes and added them to a pile of yesterday’s clothes, pulled my hair back in a ponytail, and slipped into my robe.

  I hadn’t been home an hour before there was a knock on my door. It was a terrifying sound I hadn’t heard all week. Quietly, on tiptoes, I inched my way to the door and peeked through the peephole. My mouth went dry. I swallowed hard. It was my hot neighbor. It was Zac.

  With the security chain still in place, I opened the door.

  “Hi.” He looked totally different from the other day in the elevator. I mean, he looked like himself, only better. His hair was slicked back, but a few blond curls fell over his forehead. He was wearing a clean shirt, and I could smell the clean, cool scent of his cologne.

  “Hi,” I answered. What a brilliant reply. I looked down and then back up.

  “I wanted to apologize.” He seemed eager to get the words out, like he was afraid that at any second I’d slam the door shut.

  “For what?”

  “Well, for yelling at you when you were moving in. That was pretty aggressive of me. I’m not a junkyard dog.”

  “It was my fault,” I soothed. “I should have just brought up what I needed and called it a night.” The image of him in my fantasy popped into my mind, and I knew my cheeks were turning bright red. I could feel the embarrassment climb all the way up from my feet. I cleared my throat.

  “And when we were in the elevator I didn’t even ask you your name.”

  “Oh, that was under severely extenuating circumstances.” I nodded. “No one can do anything right when they’re trapped in an elevator.” I chuckled nervously. But I was happy to see Zac laugh a little, too.

  “So, I picked this up for you as a peace offering.” From behind his back, he pulled out a package of Double Stuf Oreo cookies. They had a bow on them. I smiled giddily. "Can you forgive me?"

  “For Double Stuf Oreos? I think I can.” For a moment I hesitated. Zac picked up on it.

  “You don’t have to unchain the door if you don’t want to. You can take them.” He blinked. “I just wanted you to know that if you need anything like a light bulb changed or a spider killed in the bathtub, you can count on me.”

  I licked my lips and smiled. I shut the door, removed the chain, and slowly pulled the door open. Zac stood there holding the cookies in his hands.

  “My name is Katy Blakenborough.” I reached my hand out, and Zac shook politely.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Katy.” He took half a step forward. “Can I come in?”

  “Well, just for a second,” I mumbled. “I wasn’t expecting guests.”

  “That’s okay. My apartment looks like a gymnasium half the time. Smells like it, too, I hate to say.” I watched him look around. “Oh snap. Haven’t the movers come with your things yet? That’s got to be frustrating.”

  I took a deep breath and let it out.

  “No. This is everything.” I pouted and put my hands on my hips. “I had to leave where I was rather quickly.”

  I watched Zac as he looked around. I knew what he was thinking. There was something wrong with this picture. Yeah, you think? He was deciding that there was something seriously wrong with me as he inventoried my place. He didn’t know what it took just to get this much smuggled out of my other apartment. He didn’t have any idea about the beautiful things I left behind. He had no clue about me. How could he? So why did I feel like I needed to defend mysel
f? Why was I getting angrier and angrier at the guy who brought me cookies because he thought he behaved like a jerk?

  It wasn’t him I was mad at. It wasn’t him at all. It was this screwed-up situation. I looked around at my place. There were books and knick-knacks on the floor. My clothes were still in garbage bags because I didn’t have enough hangers. My bed consisted of a sleeping bag.

  “I know it looks suspicious,” I added. “It’s kind of a long story.”

  “I’m sorry, Katy.” He stepped inside a little farther. I couldn’t understand why he didn’t just turn and walk away, still clinging to the Oreos in his hand. But he didn’t. “It seems like I just can’t get the words right when I’m around you.”

  He handed me the cookies. I was happy to take them. I didn’t have anything sweet in my place, and these with a big glass of icy-cold milk sounded like a little slice of heaven right about now.

  “That’s okay.”

  “No. It really isn’t,” he insisted. “Not for a guy like me. I usually know exactly what to say. I can be quite a charmer.” He folded his hands over his chest and rocked back and forth on his heels. “At least that’s what my mom tells me.”

  I laughed.

  “Your mom tells you that a lot?”

  “Every day,” he bragged. “I talk to my mom every day. Yeah, some people might say I’m a mama’s boy. I’m not. A mama’s boy would never have the guts to go buy Double Stuf Oreos for a neighbor he unintentionally snapped at. And who he tried to talk to with blood all over his shirt.”

  “When you put it like that, how could anyone call you a mama’s boy?”

  “Right? That’s what I mean.” He shook his head as if to say duh.

  “Did your mom tell you if you buy a girl cookies you should also get milk?”

  Zac’s face deflated and he slapped his forehead.

  “I knew I forgot something. I’ve got half a gallon at my apartment. Just give me a second. Actually, it might be a little less than half a gallon. I think I took a couple gulps out of the jug.”

  “Yikes. Calm down, Zac.” I chuckled. “I have milk. If you don’t mind sitting on the floor.”

  I watched Zac’s eyes soften as he looked at me.

  “I can handle sitting on the floor if you can.”

  I stepped aside and let him in. I let him in my apartment. I let him in.

  Chapter Eight

  Zac

  My mind raced as I saw Katy’s belongings spread all over. I knew what this was. A woman didn’t toss her belongings into garbage bags unless she was trying to make a quick getaway. I’d seen enough domestic abuse cases to know exactly what I was looking at.

  “If you wouldn’t mind cracking these open.” She tapped the crinkly Oreo packaging. “I’ll get the milk.”

  “I can do that.” I watched her as she went into the kitchen. She stretched up to a top cabinet to reach a cup, and suddenly my dream about her came flashing back to me. I nearly choked.

  “Are you all right?” she asked innocently.

  “Yes,” I lied. No. I wasn’t all right. I wanted to slip that robe off and show her a good time. But of course, I couldn’t do that. I remembered what Nathan had said. I wasn’t going to ruin this by thinking with my johnson. “I just thought I was going to sneeze, but it went back up.”

  She nodded. When she turned around, she handed me a glass of milk.

  “Just a second,” she said. “I’m just going to get something in the bathroom.”

  She hurried down the short hallway and shut the door. I heard it lock. While I was alone, I took a few seconds to look at the situation. I caught a glimpse of a pair of panties lying on the floor. They were white with lace around the edges.

  “Good grief,” I groaned. I imagined what they had to look like riding high up on her hips. Before I got too wrapped up in my thoughts, she came out of the bathroom wearing a plain gray sweatshirt and sweatpants. It was no use. I could see that body underneath it. It was perfection.

  “Have a seat.” She motioned to the floor. “I get paid on Monday and I might buy a chair. Maybe. Or food.” She laughed nervously.

  I handed her an Oreo and took one for myself.

  We sat cross-legged on the floor. Katy leaned her back against the wall and took a bite. I sat across from her, not too close. It was like I was approaching a blue jay and didn’t want to scare it off.

  “So where did you live before this?” I asked innocently. She told me Portland. I knew a couple guys down at the Portland P.D. They were good guys. I might be able to find out a little more information if I gave them a call.

  “I ran into a little bad luck,” she said, helping herself to another cookie. This one she twisted apart and licked the white center before taking a bite. Everything she did was mesmerizing and sexy. But I had to focus on what she was saying, not how she was saying it.

  “Well, we all get a dose of that sometimes.” I tried to be comforting. “You seem to have rebounded pretty nicely.”

  “Yeah.” I heard the sadness in her voice. For a second she didn’t speak. She looked at her things and put out her hand to touch one of the boxes. “I guess it might look like that.”

  “Do you want to tell me his name?”

  Her eyes bore into mine. She didn’t move a muscle. She just stared at me.

  “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. But I’m a cop. Remember? I’m trained to pick up on subtle clues and tips.”

  She looked at the pieces of cookie still in her hands. I watched her lick her lips and swallow. I had made her uncomfortable. Was there anything I could possibly do right for this woman?

  “Without getting into the gory details, I’ll just say that I had an unwelcome admirer. I barely knew him. He saw me across a crowded room or something just as corny, and the voices in his head told him we were destined to be together.”

  She shrugged.

  “Funny thing is that no one told me we were destined to be together.” She snickered bitterly. “When I told him that, he became very angry. I’m sure you can guess the rest.”

  “Did he hurt you?”

  “He tried.” I watched as her eyes became wet and red. But she didn’t cry. Not outright. “He was watching my apartment. He was there every day when I got up and every day when I came home. The police couldn’t help me. At least that’s what they said. I managed a restraining order, but five hundred feet really isn’t that far away from a person.”

  I leaned closer to her. I could smell her skin. It was sweet like an orange or maybe a lemon. As I studied her, I saw she had two freckles on her neck. They were the only discolorations on her skin that I could see. Her nails were short but covered with a clear polish to make them shiny. Her toes were red, but I didn't see any open-toed shoes around. She wore no jewelry.

  I hate to say it, but I could tell she wasn’t wearing a bra. Even as she told me the condensed version of some asshole stalking her, I couldn’t help but focus on the fact that only a thin piece of jersey material was between her amazing breasts and me.

  But before I could ask her any more questions, the atmosphere in Katy’s apartment changed.

  “I’m sorry.” She choked the words out and quickly stood up from the floor. “I think I’ve said too much.”

  “No. I didn’t mean to pry.” I got up off the floor too but a little too quickly. Katy stepped back against the wall, and her eyes wouldn’t look any higher than my shoulders. I scared her.

  “It’s okay. Look, I appreciate the cookies. I doubt I’ll ever finish them all. But I need you to go now.”

  “Katy, are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.” She smiled while wiping a tear from her eyes. “I am. I just would really like to be alone. I’m sorry to be so rude.”

  “No. It’s okay. But Katy, I want to tell you something.”

  “That’s all right. You can tell me another time.” She scooted along the wall to the front door and quickly opened it. “Thank you again for the cookies, and your apology is totally accept
ed. I hope you’ll forgive my rudeness. But I need you to leave now.”

  I nodded. It wasn’t me she was throwing out. It was the memories. At least I hoped that was the case.

  I stepped out into the hallway. Before she could shut the door and make me hear those darn locks slipping into place, I turned to face her.

  “I’m really glad to have met you.” I meant it sincerely. “I hope you’ll remember if you need a spider killed or a light bulb changed, just come knock on my door.”

  “Thanks, Zac.”

  “I’m serious. I’m here to help.” Those words weren’t the words I wanted to speak. I wanted to tell her that not only was I here to help, but I’d be happy to put the guy who had terrified her in a body cast.

  She only nodded as she quickly shut her door.

  The sound of the locks taunted me.

  What spooked her? Had I done something or said something? I wanted to knock and ask her, but that would creep her out. I knew it would.

  I went back to my apartment. I could have predicted I wasn’t going to get any sleep. Not now. Not after I got to study Katy up close. She wasn’t just beautiful, but she was intelligent and sensitive and delicate. I was even more attracted to her now after speaking to her than I ever thought I could have been. So many women look good on paper, but put them in motion and sometimes you’ve got a real hot mess.

  My cold-case file was still sitting there. I had barely made a dent in the files. I needed to read everything, study every photograph, and once that was done there would be another round of interviews. It was a messy job at first. But I was hoping, like many of my other assignments, after I looked at them long enough and hard enough I’d see the pattern that would lead me to the bad guy. It couldn’t be rushed. It had to happen organically.

  I thought the same thing applied to Katy Blakenborough. She couldn’t be rushed. Whatever happened had to happen organically. But a phone call into the Portland Police Department about a restraining order might give me a little more information to go on, so I’d know exactly what I was dealing with.