by Lowe, Aden
Lights off, I shut the door and lock it behind me. At the truck, I pull the door open, jump in and put my wheels in the back.
Finding a spot to park is always tricky, but I found one within a few minutes at the store. The locals must not see too many wheelchair users, considering the way they stare at my every move. I don’t know how people that are always in a chair live like this. I’m ready to snap. With some deep breaths, I manage to hold my temper back. Just get what you need and get out.
Down the dairy aisle, I grab a carton of milk. A colorful label in the next cooler catches my eye. Fruit Punch. Damn, back to thinking about Anne again. She did say it was her favorite though. Maybe I can bring it over soon as a peace offering for leaving like a jackass. Not sure of which brand, I choose a couple..
I pick up a few more items, then head to the register to pay. A few seconds of small talk, I thank the older lady, then I’m out the door and loading everything in the back of the truck..
For the rest of the day I just work a little on things around the condo and relax. And try really hard not to think about what Anne is doing. Needing more time to think about everything that I’m really wanting from her, I choose not to go see her.
Chapter Six: Anne
The sun feels like a soothing caress on my skin, relaxing away the tension knotting my muscles. Soaking up the sun is my favorite stress reliever, but I don't often get to indulge for more than a few minutes. Everyone's afraid a little sunburn will kill me or something. Thanks to Adam's help, now my biggest problem is never knowing which bathing suit to wear. I have too many to choose from. Today, I chose one of my favorites—a lime green bikini.
The heat is starting to get to me a little, and I lean over to reach the water from my chair. In the process, I rest my hand on the footplate. “Sheesh, that’s hot.” Darn it, forgot to cover it to keep it cool. All these little things to remember when other people normally do them for me. By the end of the summer I’ll have it all on my own. Pride brings a smile to my lips as I rest, listening to the waves. I let my mind wander to Blake.
I haven’t seen or heard from him in two days. The only way I know he hasn't left is the big red truck sitting outside his condo. At least, I assume that's his.
I can’t get that kiss out of my head. What I wouldn’t do to have him kiss me like that in other places. If we hadn’t been interrupted, he might have worked his way down to my boobs. I can't help but imagine his hot mouth there and the wicked things he would make me feel, just like in my books.
Looking towards the ocean, I take a deep breath. I can feel my whole body warming and I must be a shade of pink that has nothing to do with the sun. I’m a little embarrassed I let myself think that far into things. To chill me off, I pour some of water down my chest. The droplets trickle down my stomach, causing me to shiver.
A groan from nearby startles me and I look up..Blake sits over near the bench, his eyes on me with so much heat and something else I can’t identify. How long as he been there? Crap. What if he saw me?
A quick glance confirms my worst fears. My nipples are clearly visible through the bikini top. “Ohmigosh. Ohmigosh.” I snatch the towel off the top of the beach chair and drag it down to cover myself. I’m happy enough with my chest, but I’m sure he’d prefer bigger boobs than what I was blessed with. So not ready to be looked down upon for yet another thing I have no control over.
“Anne. Don’t.” His voice is somewhere between a plea and a command.
I freeze.
He gets to my side before I can unfold the towel all the way, and places the basket he's carrying off to the side, and makes a move towards me. His hand touches mine, as I tense and try to keep covered.
“It’s too late, Anne. No reason to hide, babe. You’re gorgeous.” He’s speaking softly as he takes the towel from me.
Now uncovered except for my bikini, I feel exposed..His gaze travels slowly up and down, like trying to memorize every each of me. Chill bumps form, even though I’m the furthest thing away from cold right now.
He leans in, eying my lips. I close my eyes. Do I even want him to kiss me? Where has he been? He left so fast the other day, and didn’t even leave me a number. Before I have time to react, his lips are on mine.
Smooth and soft lips on mine. He’s in charge. I’m just here for the ride, and I give in to him. As soon as he notices, his control is thrown out and the kiss has me on fire. In a brave attempt to show my eagerness, I lightly lick his lips, teasingly.
"Hell, Anne. What are you doing to me?” He inhales hard and doesn’t wait for an answer before pushing me down for another kiss, deeper and more intense. Leaning more on the chair, he tangles his hands in my hair, pulling me slightly towards him.
He backs off a little, giving me a chance to breathe, like he could tell I needed air. Sparks race over my skin as he kisses his way down my neck. I start to breathe faster, not sure where this is going. Just as his hand reaches my breast, I hear a crack and panic, but too late to stop anything. The lounge chair falls back and tips over. With Blake landing on top of me.
“Ufff! Shit. Anne you okay? Are you hurt?”
Laughter bubbles up. “I’m fine Blake. Although, I’d be a little better if you moved just a little of your weight off me.” I wiggle my hips a little to see if I can help.
He groans again and I look up at him, his face just inches away from mine. “Anne, don’t do that again unless you want to finish this right here, out on the beach.”
Confused and slightly curious. I wiggle once more. He grabs me tight at the hips, grinds into me as he kisses me hard and fast. I moan and try to get more. More what I’m not quite sure. Just feels right.
“Anne. I don’t have anything with me.” He moans in my ear, as he’s catching his breath and leans his head to my forehead, then kisses it lightly.
Letting my eyes close and just breathing him in for a minute, I wish we could stay here, in this moment. But, one, I’d never be able to get the sand off me if we continued. Two, while it might be exciting to some, having the chance of someone interrupting my first time isn’t appealing to me.
“Umm. Right. Let’s figure out how we’re going to get up from here.” I say softly, hoping he understands.
“I almost forgot with everything else, I brought a little lunch if you’re hungry.” Blake reaches for the basket lifting it to the picnic table.
“I’m starving! I’d love some lunch.” Wonder what he brought? If it's anything like Adam would have packed, it would be peanut butter and crackers, and if I’m lucky, a bottle of water.
“I was hoping you’d say that. I made us some chicken salad sandwiches and brought a bag of chips to go with it.” Placing everything out on the table. He pulls out a drink container.
Curious, I look at him weird. “What’s in there?”
“Um, well that’s some fruit punch for you. I remembered you said it was your favorite. Hope that’s an okay brand.” He seems uncertain.
“Oh my god! That’s perfect.” I lean over and give him a quick kiss on the cheek.
He grins. "I might have to keep you supplied with fruit punch if it earns me that."
We finish up our lunch talking about endless things, from who we want to be on The Next Food Network Star to our favorite shows to watch on television. To my surprise he likes Criminal Minds as much as I do, though I’d assume for different reasons. Derek Morgan. I keep that little tidbit to myself. Can't have Blake getting all jealous, especially when he has no reason to.
"I know you like to read. What else do you do for fun?" He's holding my hand, tracing little circles on my palm.
How am I supposed to answer with him distracting me that way? "Um, I like to cook sometimes, when I get the chance. Oh, and I like shopping." I shrug a little. "Honestly, my family is a little over protective. I don't get to do a lot of things I'd like to try." The confession took a weight off my shoulders. Just having someone else know seemed to make it a little more bearable.
He tips my chin up w
ith a gentle finger. "I'm sorry, even though I get it. You should be treasured, but not stifled." He leans in for a kiss. "Anything you want to try, if it's at all possible, I'll make it happen and keep you safe, too."
My mind buzzed with the dozens of things I'd like to try with him, while my cheeks burn with the same. "Thank you, I'll remember that." I will, too, and hold him to it if I need to. "How about you? What do you like to do?"
He grins. "Besides kissing you?"
My heart skips a beat at the wicked gleam in his eyes. "Yes, besides that." I can't help but smile.
A little line creases his brow. "I work with computers, and I enjoy it, especially the flexibility it gives me. It's one of the few things I've managed to hang onto through rehab and getting adjusted." The pain of his loss is still fresh, but he hides it quickly. "Enough about me, I'm boring. How long are you staying?"
That makes me laugh. "You're anything but boring, but okay. I'm staying all summer, into September. At least, I am unless my parents figure it out and insist I come back home before then. When are you leaving?"
"I don't know, for sure. I intended to stay a few weeks at least." He went back to tracing those little circles on my palm. "Your parents would really do that?"
"They would. They don't trust me to do anything on my own. Adam is a little better about it, but if I hadn't threatened to run off and do this on my own, he wouldn't have even considered helping me."
"I hate to say it, babe, but that's just fucked up."
"Yes it is." I notice how long the shadows are starting to get. “I have to get back inside. I’m late taking some medicine, and it messes me up if I skip it.” I don’t want the time with him to end, but I can't take the risk of missing meds. Getting sick would mean having to give up on my independent summer and I have no intention of doing that.
"Shit, let's go then. You should have said something sooner Anne. You go ahead, I’ll be right behind you. Meet you inside.” He starts gathering up our trash and turns away.
Shocked that he’s going to come back inside with me, I hurry and race to take my meds. Breathing treatments take at least ten minutes and I don’t want to waste much time doing that when he’s here.
At the door, I look back to check once more to see if Blake is still there, half afraid I might have dreamed the whole afternoon. He’s heading up my way. I smile, and turn to roll inside.
Chapter Seven: Anne
After finishing up with my meds I notice all the sand. It's everywhere, all over me, my chair, the floor. How am I going to clean all of this up? What a mess.
Blake comes to the door, stopping to brush off some sand onto the patio. Had I not been in such a hurry, I might have thought to do that as well. It would certainly have saved a lot of work.
"All finished?” He looks over at my medicine. Odd that he doesn’t even blink at the machine and bottles of pills.
Feeling self-conscious, I pack everything up fast and push the pills back into the drawer. “Yep, all done. I need to get changed, though. All this sand is starting to itch.” More sand falls off my chair. His gaze sweeps over me with burning intensity. “Why don’t you go take a quick shower? Maybe I’ll catch up on the game. The Braves are supposed to playing this afternoon.”
The idea sounds heavenly and I'm not about to refuse a chance to get rid of the sand and sweat from a long day on the beach. “Okay. I’ll be out in a little bit.”.
He looks at me just a few more seconds before closing his eyes tightly and groaning like he’s in pain. At first he looks like he might say something, but then he shakes his head, turns away from me, and starts for the television.
I'm left wondering what he wanted to say. The question nags at me the whole time I'm gathering up a change of clothes and getting the water started.
Blake:
It takes a minute to get the TV on and find the right station, and neither does anything to occupy my mind. Am I seriously going to sit here and watch fucking baseball while she’s in the shower? Nothing but a couple of thin walls and a few feet separates me from a gorgeous woman I want more than air, and I'm sitting in front of a damn TV instead of going to her.
The water turns on, and the sound has me instantly imagining Anne in there. She's naked under the spray, that sweet little bikini gone, the water making her nipples hard. I have to adjust my shorts. This is torture. Why the hell did I suggest her getting a shower, anyway? Probably had some silly idea she would invite me to join her.
The game isn’t holding my attention at all. For one thing, ever since they traded Kimbrel, the Braves just haven’t been the same. Dumbasses, the best closer they had, and they give him to San Francisco.
Of course, no ball game can interest me nearly as much as Anne. Yet again, I wonder what I'm really doing with her. A girl like her deserves flowers and romantic dinners, not some rough criminal pawing all over her every chance he gets. Even knowing that, I can't deny myself the pleasure of touching her. She's like a drug, a powerful one that I had to have, even beyond an addiction, if that's possible. And all the signals she gives say she's into it as much as I am.
The TV is useless so I switch it off. It's been a while since lunch, so maybe Anne would like some light dinner. I need to do something before I go join her in there and cooking seems like a good idea. Fucking figures. I haven’t been hard in months, and now it seems I’m never not hard. Can't object to that too much.
Wonder what she has in the fridge? I can't help feeling like I'm getting a secret glimpse into her life as I search through her food choices. There's fresh chicken breast, lettuce and potatoes. I can do something with those. Working my way around the kitchen, I'm surprised everything is set up just low enough for me not to have to struggle. Adam must have arranged things for Anne.
Potatoes are in the microwave, timer set and while I wait for the pan to heat up, I start cubing the chicken. Smaller pieces will cook faster, plus Anne won’t have to struggle cutting it up. I noticed she doesn't have great upper body strength, and don't want her to waste energy. I definitely have some ideas how that energy could be better used.
Shit, just when I was getting myself back under control my mind would have to come up with images of her doing things. I adjust my shorts, but it does little to give me any relief. At this point, only one thing that could help me is being lost inside Anne, with her hands on me, hearing her light moans, and those lips that I got a taste of earlier.
Reflexively my hand goes to my shorts, but then I hear the click of Anne’s chair.
"Thank God.” Hopefully she’s fully covered. No telling how much longer I can hold out before I grab her and act out all my fantasies. Trying to get a handle on my libido again, and keep my hands off her at the same time, I throw the chicken in the pan, and put everything for the salad in a bowl.
“Mmm. Something smells amazing.”
The scent of cherry surrounds me as she comes rolling in. Damn. I can't do anything but stare.
The thin tank top and shorts leave far too little to the imagination for the sake of my sanity. Not overly tight, just a right fit.
My mouth goes dry as I try to get my brain to catch up. “Uh. Chicken. I thought we could eat, so I made some chicken and potatoes with a salad. If you’re not hungry yet, we can save it for later. I just had to keep my mind off you in the shower, or you’d have a visitor.” Not caring about anything else, I put down the bowl, setting it aside.
She’s close enough, so I lean in and kiss her softly. Her lips are so smooth, and the soft moan she gives in response spurs me on. Deepening the kiss, I grab a fistful of her hair, testing her limits on what she’ll let me do.
The gasp she makes gives me even more access to her perfect mouth and I take full advantage. At some point she’s moved her armrest. How she does that without me noticing, I’ll never know. But I don’t care at the moment.
My grip tightens, drawing a small whimper from her, but she doesn’t pull away. With my other hand I pull the strap of her top down, baring her perfect breas
t to me. It fits like it was made for my hand. Soft and firm. She arches forward into my gentle squeeze and I kiss her hard once more, then lean back and look at her. Her eyes are dark with lust. I kiss her neck, over her chest, down to her breast..
“Blake.” Her pleas are so sweet.
“Shhh, Anne just feel it. I have you.” Her nipple is so fucking perfect under my mouth.
Her body tense, she’s right on the edge. One more push and she’ll explode in my hands. Arching her back more, she lets her legs relax open just a little. An unconscious signal...
I let my free hand slip under her shorts to apply gentle pressure. The damp fabric of her panties is too much of a barrier to tolerate and I pull it aside. My sweet Anne pants as I slide my fingers along her hot wet flesh.
Too much temptation. I drag her from her chair, into my lap to grind my hard-on against her hip. When she arches more, I sink one finger inside her.
Muscles clamp down hard and she comes apart for me. A few thrusts of my finger and I back off to let her catch her breath..
"Oh. My. God. Oh. My. God.” She keeps repeating it over and over, like she’s talking to herself. The way she’s acting it's like that was the best orgasm she’s ever had. Or maybe her first one? The thought of being the first man to touch her, to bring her pleasure, makes my chest swell with pride, and something else I can't quite put my finger on.
“Anne. You still here with me?” Chuckling, I kiss her lightly.
She snaps out of it, and turns bright red. There’s my answer. For whatever reason, I’m freaking thrilled to be her first. Second. Third. And last if I have anything to say about it.
In the living room, Anne’s cell phone goes off. I remember that ring tone very well. Adam. Fucker has an uncanny sense of timing.
