by Criss Copp
“Do you want me to help you right now? Would you like me to, um, help you achieve a release?” She asks shyly, however she’s managing to maintain eye contact.
Oh yes, I really, really do. But I don’t want it to be just about me. I want it to be about us. So I groan and answer her the only way I know will satisfy me afterwards.
“I want our first time to be better. I want it to be about both of us.” I throatily whisper.
We look at each other and both of us are breathing hard.
“I think I’m in love with you Silas.” She whispers fearfully.
I knew it, I knew she loved me and it was the right thing to say, to deny my immediate need and prove to her that she means much, much more to me than my own satisfaction.
“Oh damn, I wanted to be the first one to admit to that.”
“You were. Your body is screaming it at me. I needed to let you know I feel the same.”
“I wish I could crush you to me right now. This lying next to you and not being able to caress every inch of you is killing me.” I croak.
“I’m glad, because I’d hate to think I’m the only one experiencing the agony.” She says, gingerly leaning in and lightly pecking me on the lips.
But I move forward and begin to develop the kiss, and it deepens rapidly. But of course I want more, so I pull back.
“Shit. Isi, I need to stop. I want to keep kissing you, but I can’t temper the desire. I don’t want to hurt you. But damn, I want to make love to you so much right now.” I explain in my rasping tones.
She sighs, “Okay, let’s talk about something else; this is just as hard for me – everything you’re saying is just making my body build up towards an orgasm.” She moans.
“Ohhhh!” I groan, rolling onto my back and running my hands up over my face and into my hair where I grip it hard and pull the roots up for a bit of pain.
If Isi looks down, she’s going to see my rock hard erection barely trapped in my boxers. I can stop it from existing, but I don’t want to leave the bed and go to the bathroom to run my second rate hand across it either. I have the feeling it will cheapen the feelings I just admitted to right now.
“Please Isi, don’t say stuff like that. I’m very weak at the moment.”
“Okay. How about tomorrow we go out and look for apartments for you.” She suggests, changing the subject.
“Yeah, that would be cool.” I agree.
We discuss what I want in an apartment and she tells me of some Property Managers she has found pleasant to talk to. We formulate a plan to systematically go through every one of them and check out everything they currently have on their books. However, despite these diversionary tactics, my erection stubbornly refuses to go down the entire time.
***
“Now Silas!” Isi says, depressing the clutch and waiting for me to change the gears. “You need to focus on my foot, or at least listen to the revs so you know when we need to change.” She giggles.
I know what to do… I can drive a car, and I’ve been looking at her; I have, I’ve been looking at her legs.
She’s wearing jeans her standard issue, but I’m remembering that she wore only her undies last night, and now I’m looking at her legs and thinking about how much I’d like to slide my hand up the inside of her thigh.
“Silas, focus.” she breaks through my thoughts.
“I am focused.”
“On what?”
“On what undies you might be wearing.”
“Undies?”
“Panties, I mean panties.” I laugh.
“Ugh. If I have to refer to cell phones as mobiles, you can refer to panties as panties.” She bargains.
“Don’t you mean undies as panties?”
“No, I’m not saying that word. It sounds gross.” She shudders.
“It’s not a gross word, it’s what we call them back home.” I laugh.
“I won’t tell you what a pair of them look like in my mind; suffice to say they look gross. Panties sound cute and sexy.”
“Yes, I have to agree that panties definitely sound cute and sexy, especially if they’re yours and lying on my bedroom floor.” I risk saying.
She throws me a huge grin.
I change the gears for her.
“You saw my thigh last night and my stomach again.” She pouts and sighs. “You don’t find that gross?” she queries.
“I’m going to be totally honest with you. No.” I reason.
“Okay.” She says fearfully, perhaps not believing me.
“Isi, I did see your scars again. But they didn’t bother me, except for the fact that they’re a reminder that you felt pain.” I explain. “I don’t like you being in pain.”
“They didn’t make you want to look away? Because they’re pretty gross.” She whispers.
I groan, “We’ve been over this before. Your scars do not define what you mean to me. Your heart and mind do.” I explain.
“But attraction is so important in relationships.” She states.
“Yes, it is.”
“You’re attracted to me right?”
Is she seriously asking me this question? I look up at her face. She’s serious.
“Did you not see that all night boner I had?” I ask her incredulously.
She drops her mouth open and then she begins to giggle in open mouthed throaty huffs.
I continue,
“That was entirely your fault that thing. I was fighting it the whole time, so it had nothing to do with me.” I point out. “How can you question my attraction to you after that?”
She’s laughing and failing to drive as carefully as she should.
“Are you going to drive Mulligan or precipitate an accident?”
She’s still not saying anything, but she does manage to depress the clutch and glide to a stop at the side of the road.
I watch her laughing for a while, enjoying the view of her adorable amusement.
When she finally gathers herself together, she looks at me again.
“You really do like me, hey.”
“I love you.”
“You love me.” she whispers smiling.
“Yes, more than anyone.”
“And you don’t care that I’m older?”
“It makes this whole situation a thousand times hotter, so no.”
“And you don’t care about my scars.”
“I don’t care that you have them, but I do care that they affect you so much.” I reason.
She smiles at that.
“And before you ask me another dumbass question,” I begin, “this thing we’ve got developing is only the beginning. It isn’t a rebound or an intermission. It’s the beginning of us.”
Her face is the picture of beautiful. Her smile is adorable, and the moisture threatening to spill from her eyes makes me want to reach across, pull her into my arms and kiss the tears away.
Her left arm is in a sling though, and she’s got bandages up both forearms. I can still see the lines of the zip ties used on her wrists, where a darker sharp bruise delineates against the rest of the bruise. I would rather the bruise was less defined. I hate knowing that she was at this time yesterday being dragged by her hair by that cocksucker Ethan.
Complete segue; I begin laughing my head off.
“Silas?” She asks shocked.
She probably thinks I’m laughing at her, at her emotional vulnerability.
“It’s not you.” I manage before continuing with my gut wrenching laughter.
Ethan, cocksucker. The image alone is sweet revenge.
“What is it?” She asks, still worried.
“Ethan.”
Her face clouds over.
“I was just thinking about Ethan being a cocksucker.”
This woman is so quick. She gets it straight away and spits out a rupturing laughter.
“I mean,” I begin, wiping tears from my eyes, “he’s going to be getting sincerely intimate with a number of cocks in jail. He’s a pretty looking gu
y after all.” I laugh.
“You’re mean; but I can see the justice in what you’re saying.” She says.
We laugh for a while, start to settle and then erupt again. Then when we look as though we have that joke out of our system. We look at each other, smiling again.
I feel an intense desire to consume her in that moment. So I lean across and give her a hard kiss on the lips, which turns into a stronger, hungry kiss that demands action.
So I pull back.
“Nope. I have to stop or I’ll need to take you outside and have you over the hood of your car.” I reason breathing hard.
She’s breathing hard too.
“You’d do that?” She asks.
“Make love to you on the bonnet of your car?”
She nods.
“Yes.” I nod enthusiastically.
“Shit.”
“There won’t be a place in a ten mile radius of here that’s safe once I get to be with you like that.” I promise.
“Shit.”
“I’m going to use every available surface for a while, you’ve got me that pent up.” I point out.
“Damn Silas. I haven’t had sex in like,” she shakes her head trying to remember the last time she had sex. I give her a knowing look. But she’s taking a while to finish that sentence.
“Look, if it’s taking you that long to remember, it wasn’t very good sex and it was way too long ago.” I reason.
“You’re right. It was terrible sex, because it was a pity fuck after I got out of hospital and an ex of mine was sure he could deliver. Well he couldn’t. He couldn’t get past the… um, you know. But I actually started thinking about the last time I had successful sex. I was in Afghanistan and he was another medic. It wasn’t too bad.” She goes to continue.
I suddenly feel my mouth going dry and feelings of what I can only describe as jealousy, sweep through me. I don’t want to know about this, I don’t want the visual of Isi sharing her body with another guy.
“Isi, I really need you to stop right there. I know you’re really comfortable with me, but I never, ever want to hear about you having sex, fucking, or heaven forbid making love to someone else. I’m okay with the fact that you have a sexual history, but that’s my limit. I won’t be sharing my history with you, even if you beg me to; because I’m not thinking about fucking anyone else anymore, I’m thinking about being with you. I want you only to think about being with me.” I demand.
“That’s already a problem for me.” She says.
“It is?” I growl.
“Yeah, well, I’m already thinking about doing it with you all the time and I’m about ready to combust. If I think about it anymore, I’ll go insane.” She groans.
I’m smiling - like the biggest, damn smile ever.
“You think about sex with me?”
“How else do you think I get off? I can tell you, it’s not a random stranger I’m thinking about.” She admits.
Holy fuck. She’s been masturbating to thoughts of me… shit. I thought it was only me thinking about her and getting off.
“Fuck.” I say reverently. “You just make it harder and harder Isi.” I whisper.
She smirks, “Well it works better that way.”
I give her a glaring stare.
“What?” She says innocently.
“I’m seriously uncomfortable now.” I seethe and shift my uncomfortable self in my jeans.
“You should go and take the pressure off yourself.” She giggles.
“I frequently do already. Why do you think we were late this morning to go get my stuff from the unit?”
“You’re the one talking about waiting.” She sighs.
“I don’t want to wait.” I growl, “I fucking want you sitting on top of me right now and moving up and down my cock till I, fuck.” I squeak. “God.” I drag the word out. “Whose idea was slow and steady anyway?” I groan, throwing my head back.
“Yours.”
“I seem to remember it being yours too.” I counter.
“That was for only that one day.” She explains.
“And then you got injured. Your arms Isi and your shoulder.” I point out.
“Yeah I suppose.” She says wincing as she adjusts the sling.
“You know what? Fuck it. I want you in my bedroom now – so drive home.” I demand.
“No I think you’re right, I don’t want to hurt my shoulder.” She says grimacing.
I just sit there. My mouth is hanging open and I’m struggling to arrange my thoughts. Why?
“Two weeks.” I throw to her.
“Two weeks?”
“Yes. That’s how long you’ve got to heal.”
“The doctors said three.” She mumbles.
“Do you really want to do this denial thing for twenty-one days? Fourteen days tops and we’ll keep it gentle at the finish line.”
“I don’t mind a bit of rough sex.” She murmurs, but I hear it.
“Isi.” I shout, “Please. You’re killing me, quite literally killing me.” I reprimand.
“Okay, so let’s finish looking at the apartments, because you’ll need one before two weeks are up.”
I just close my eyes at the intended meaning of those words, but she just drives them home anyway.
“We’ll be way too noisy to be in your sister’s house.”
***
“You like the last one then?” She refers to the last apartment where I pointed to each and every available surface we could use to consummate our relationship.
“Yep. That’s the one.” I say, leaning in and grabbing the quesadilla we just purchased to share.
We walk around to the nearby park and sit on a bench so we can enjoy the last of our day before Isi has to leave for the halfway house and I go home.
“It’s available from next week. I’m going back to work for Dr. Jensen next week.” She explains; she’s only thus far had today off.
“How are you going to do that? Your shoulder Isi.” I query.
“I have my good arm.” She says, stuffing her mouth with one of our pizza shaped slices of heaven.
“You better not injure yourself. I’m serious about things escalating within two weeks.” I warn.
“Me too. I have no plans on making that time frame extend beyond that.” She says muffled with her mouth full of food. It makes me smile watching her stuff her face full of food and not caring about my presence.
“I struggle to think of you as a teenage miniature fake, especially right now watching you stuff your face with food.” I shake my head.
“I became the real me.” She smiles, before shoving another bite in and grinning.
“What was the food like in Afghanistan?”
“Food.”
“Profound.”
“Depended on how far we were into the supplies. The normal food was the first to go. After that and especially when we were nearing our next drop; it could get pretty gross. Well, it was for me anyway.” She scrunches up her nose.
“Processed?”
“Very. I’m not sure anything in it was ever alive.”
“Lovely, now that’s what you get paid the big money for.”
She snorts.
“Money not great?”
She shakes her head, “its okay. Nothing remarkable considering what we do though. But you don’t become an Army medic to be rich.” She smiles.
No, you become one to escape being rich.
“I love you Isi.”
“I love you too, Silas.” She says shyly, placing her head on my shoulder.
“Two fucking weeks.” I groan.
“No, two weeks without fucking.”
“Isi.” I scold.
Chapter 10: Bail
Isi.
“Isobelle, can I get you anything?” Jade asks, placing cutlery on the table out the back.
“No I’m all good, can I do anything for you?” I ask. She’s carting food through from the kitchen, bowl after bowl. And yet I know only the four of us wil
l be here for lunch.
“Nah, the boys will be back soon.”
Silas moved into his new apartment yesterday, and my arms have pretty much healed up, though they’ll carry a bit of a shadowy scar each once everything is completely healed. My shoulder is still meant to be supported in a sling, though I’ve shrugged it off since yesterday; however, I’m fairly confident that another week will see me fighting fit to contend with any attention Silas wants to give me.
I can’t help a smile escape me from the thought.
“I know those types of smiles.” Jade says, bringing little Ben out in his rocker, complete with mobile stars and suns dangling in front of his face.
“I’m sorry?”
“Why? Don’t be.”
“I shouldn’t be making it obvious.”
“What are you making obvious?” Jade asks with a smile.
“I” I’m struggling to talk.
“I get it you know, you and Silas have sex. It’s okay. You make him happy and I know I can be a bit rude and blunt, but,” she shrugs, “I actually like you, despite the fact that I really thought I wouldn’t.”
“Thanks?”
“I hope he’s being gentle, shoulder injuries can be hard to heal.” Jade points out, while grabbing a stick of celery and scooping up some dip and then popping it into her mouth and eating it.
“We…” what the heck, she’s obviously not precious about these things; I’ll match her. I’m not sure how I feel about her. She kind of scares me. But I need to just be myself and to hell with it.
“We haven’t had sex.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“Nup, haven’t been there, struggle to pash for extended lengths of time too.” I add.
“What’s wrong?” She gasps.
“Injuries and his desire for things to be perfect. So if we kiss too much, we just kind of want to,” maybe this is going too far.
“Jump each other’s bones?” Jade finishes with a huge grin.
“Ah… yeah.”
Jade shakes her head in disbelief.
“We’re taking it slowly.” I assure her.
“There’s slow and there’s snail-paced.” Jade scoffs giving me a cheeky grin that is reminiscent of Silas’.
“I know.” I groan. And all of a sudden I realize I’m bonding with this woman. I kind of like her. She’s my age and I haven’t got anything to lose. “I’m getting so desperate, my fingers are sore and my wrists are risking RSI.”
