The Milkman

by Tabatha Kiss

  “Is this okay?” she asks, her hips gently grinding as she rides me.

  I laugh out loud. How can I not?

  “It’s more than okay,” I say. I feel up her body to cup her breasts. “Do what makes you feel good.”

  “But does it feel good for you? Am I going too slow?”

  “Kimber,” I laugh again, “trust me, nothing you do right now is going to feel bad for me.”

  She chuckles. “Is that a challenge?”

  I pause. “Okay, suddenly feeling very vulnerable with this blindfold on...”

  Her hips rise and my cock slides out of her. “Oh, yeah?” she asks, her voice light and playful.

  I make grabby hands at her. “Wait, where are you going—”

  She dodges out of my grasp.

  “Kimber.”

  “Shh...” she whispers, her voice down near my feet. “You’ll be okay.”

  “But what are you doing?”

  She doesn’t answer. I feel her moving upward, her warm breath touching my thighs. I hold still, torn between just going with it and bolting for what I hope is the door.

  “Kimber?” I ask again.

  Something touches my cock. Light and smooth. A warm flick around the base.

  Her tongue.

  “Oh, okay...” I settle in.

  Kimber chuckles as her lips slide up my shaft, tongue gliding along my glans.

  I grunt a silent thank you for the blindfold. I know if I could see this, Kimber’s little, blue eyes peeking up at me, her pink mouth open wide for me, I’d come without a second thought. Hell, it’s hard enough not to imagine it and unload right now as it is.

  Her open mouth wraps around my tip and I take in a sharp breath.

  “Fuck...” I mutter, blood pumping through me.

  She teases me, lightly lapping and kissing. Doing every little thing she can short of sucking me right off. My tip throbs. My balls rise and tighten. Her palms come to lie on my abs and I lay back, completely under her control.

  She bobs suddenly, taking me almost all the way into her throat and I jerk in surprise.

  “Whoa—”

  She puts pressure on my chest, holding me down as she sucks harder up and down my cock. Life surges through my groin, welcoming a sweet finish but I don’t want this to end.

  “Kimber,” I groan.

  She moans, vibrating my shaft and tickling my nerves.

  I reach down, finding her left hand on my body. She turns her palm up and holds my hand, entwining my fingers as she bobs her head faster.

  “I’m coming,” I tell her, my voice as heavy as my body.

  She pulses my hand, giving me permission, and tightens her lips around my tip.

  I come with a deep, satisfying grunt. She catches my cum on her tongue, continuing to suck lightly until she knows I’m finished. As she rises, she sits back on her knees but keeps that tight hold on my hand. I don’t want to let her go, either.

  I pull her toward me and she slides closer. She lays down beside me and rests her head on my shoulder. We relax, breathing steadily with our hands on each other. I kiss her forehead. Her lips press into my chest. She draws lines along my pec with her finger. I see nothing. I feel everything.

  “Is this okay?” she asks.

  I laugh out loud. How can I not?

  I stare out across the fields. It’s just before sunrise. Crickets still chirp like crazy in my ears but it doesn’t bug me nearly as much as it did a week ago. Strange how quickly you get used to that noise again. I raise my mug and take a slow sip of coffee. It’s going cold but I don’t mind. The air is warm so it balances out.

  The front door opens and my mother walks out with her own mug, looking worn and tired. Her eyes fall on me and she stops dead in her tracks.

  I wave at her, smiling wide. “G’morning.”

  “Good morning,” she says. “What are you doing out here?”

  “Figured I’d watch the sunrise,” I say.

  Her brow rises with suspicion but she takes her seat beside me on the porch swing.

  We sit in silence for a minute or so, just staring out at the land and drinking coffee. The sky fades from black to blue to another blue. Soon, it’ll be brighter. Like Kimber’s eyes.

  “You got something on your mind?”

  I blink out of it. “Not really,” I answer, raising my mug. “Why?”

  “You seem pensive,” she says. “More so than usual.”

  “Yeah, I guess I am.”

  “That VanHouten twit offer you something?”

  “What?” I shake my head. “No.”

  “Well, there must be some reason why you’re up before me on a Sunday morning.”

  I laugh. “I woke up naturally and I didn’t want to drag ass for the next few days. Okay?”

  She nods, seemingly satisfied. “You settling in all right otherwise?”

  “Yeah, I think so.” I take another sip. “How’s the rancher hunt going?”

  “I’m working on it. Tough to find folks mid-summer. They’ve all already got jobs.”

  I nod. “Figures.”

  “Sorry it’s taking a while. I’ll keep you updated.”

  “It’s all right.”

  She nudges my ribs. “I know you’re desperate to get out of here again. Just hang in there for a while longer, all right?”

  “It’s fine. I don’t mind.”

  I look out across the field again, throwing my mug back to finish it off. I set it on the table beside me and turn back to find my mother still staring at me, studying me closely.

  I sigh. “What?”

  “What are you up to?” she asks.

  “Nothing.”

  “Why do you want to stay in Clover?”

  “I don’t want to stay in Clover,” I say. “I would very much like to not be in Clover anymore but I promised you that I’d help out for as long as you needed it.”

  “Well,” she feigns a sigh, “I’m sorry your poor, widowed mother is such a burden to you, sweetie.”

  I exhale. “I didn’t say that—”

  “It’s not like I didn’t spend twenty years feeding you—”

  “Mom.”

  “Clothing you.”

  “All right. I get it.”

  “Keeping your father from killing you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” she says. “Now, shut up and let me enjoy my Sunday.”

  I smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Movement catches my eye and we both turn our heads to the right.

  Gertie wanders by the porch, taking slow but swift steps toward the highway.

  “Not It,” my mother says, volunteering me to go put her back in the barn.

  I groan. “Dammit, Gertie,” I mutter, standing up to go fetch her.

  Twenty-Two

  Kimber

  “If all goes well, I should be back tomorrow night,” Curtis says.

  I watch him through the bathroom mirror as he passes in front of the doorway. “Okay,” I say.

  He walks back to the dresser and grabs yet another pure white shirt to stuff into his suitcase. I pick up my hairbrush and run it through my locks, actively pushing it back as I reach for a hair-tie.

  “I’ll call you if anything changes,” he says behind me. “Dad has been priming this farm for months now, so—”

  I let his voice fade away. Really, the last thing I care about is him and my father-in-law buying out yet another poor farmer’s family business. Sort of makes me feel proud of Nate and his mother. It takes some balls to look someone like Curtis VanHouten in the eye and say no.

  He walks into the bathroom behind me and I realize I’m smiling. I force a neutral face as he reaches across me for his toothbrush. He tosses it into his travel bag and zips it closed.

  “Well, I’ll be here,” I say, eying him as he refuses to even look at me. “I have a book to finish reading before book club tomorrow. Might start a new painting, too...”

  “Make sure you open a window,” he say
s, head down as he checks his drawer. “You know I hate that smell.”

  I bite down. “I will,” I say.

  He starts for the door, his head finally rising to glance at me. He comes to a stop and looks at me again, his eyes creating a halo around my head.

  “You’re wearing your hair up,” he says.

  I stare at my reflection. Scars and all. “I like the way it looks.”

  “You don’t leave the house like that, do you?”

  I meet his eyes in the mirror. “No,” I answer.

  Curtis exits the bathroom and stuffs his travel bag into his suitcase.

  I follow him downstairs in silence. He pauses by the coat rack to grab his jacket. I walk halfway to the kitchen, pausing in the doorframe in case he wants to say something to me before leaving.

  You know, anything at all a husband might tell his wife before leaving for almost two days.

  Anything at all.

  “Have a safe trip,” I say first, raising my voice the slightest bit.

  “I’ll be back tomorrow,” he says, reaching into his pocket and jingling his keys.

  “Good luck.”

  Curtis turns the doorknob, steps one foot out, and stops. He turns back and looks at me, hesitating for a moment before stepping back inside and walking toward me.

  He pauses in front of me and leans over, planting a kiss on my cheek.

  I straighten up, surprised by the sudden show of affection.

  “I like your hair up, too,” he says, his eyes rounding that halo again.

  I blink. “Thank you.”

  He nods and heads for the door again. “Bye, Kim.”

  “Bye.”

  I stare at the white door as it latches closed behind him. His truck roars to life outside in the driveway. It sits idle for a bit before he drives away.

  The feel of his lips on my cheek fades quickly but I can’t shake off that sincere look in his eyes when he spoke to me.

  The back door opens and closes.

  I stay still, listening to the gentle tap of shoes slowly coming up behind me. They stop short of me and a hand touches my hip and crawls around my waist. I lay my hand on his as he closes in and kisses my neck.

  “Hey,” Nate whispers in my ear.

  “Hi,” I say.

  “You okay?”

  I turn, putting my back to the doorframe. I nod as I pinch the brim of his white hat and slide it off his head.

  He smiles and I draw him in to kiss my lips.

  I turn my head to one side and he kisses the other.

  I let out a gasp and he does whatever he did again, but just a little slower.

  I feel everything. He sees nothing but makes me feel everything.

  I lay a hand on Nate’s cheek, sparking a smile on his face as I guide his mouth toward mine. We lock lips, bodies entwined on the bed. He thrusts slowly, making me feel every inch of him as he fills me over and over again.

  He reaches down, hooking my knee and shifting it just a little higher on his naked waist and his cock enters me a little deeper as a result. I gasp, enjoying the thrill of him and his kiss drops to my jawline.

  My body begs for more of him.

  I feel up his flexing arms.

  I draw a line up his thigh with my toes.

  I tighten my core, squeezing him from the inside and he groans with pleasure.

  But still, I need more of him.

  I reach around his head and pull the knot free on the blindfold. It loosens along his eyes and Nate stops his slow, rhythmic movement between my legs. I drop the scarf to the floor and look into his wide-open eyes.

  He looks into mine. “Are you sure?” he asks, catching his breath.

  I touch his cheek, running my thumb to edge of his mouth. “Yes,” I say.

  Nate takes a deep breath and he studies my face. His body trembles as he kisses me. I reach around him, touching his lower back and coaxing him to start again.

  He begins that slow fuck, triggering the heat to ignite deep inside of me. I watch his eyes. He watches mine. Pleasure dances behind his smile and I lose myself completely in him all over again.

  When his eyes roam, I don’t care. I don’t cower in shame or flinch away like I have before. When he kisses my scars with the same sweet tenderness as always, I know his affection is real. I know he sees me no differently than he did with closed eyes.

  “Kimber,” he groans and slows his pace. “I’m gonna—”

  I kiss him, lightly sucking on his lip. “Don’t stop. I want you to.”

  I take his hand, entwining our fingers as he takes what he needs. He pumps faster, his breath warm and wild on my skin. I hold him as he comes, cradling his head and leaving soft kisses along his brow.

  Nate catches his breath and raises his head to look me in the eye again. “You’re beautiful,” he says.

  I smile.

  The front door opens and closes downstairs.

  We lock in place, our reflexes as tired as our senses.

  “Shit,” I say.

  Nate rolls off me and stands up on the floor. I get up and rush to grab my robe as Nate throws his briefs back on.

  The stairs creak. He’s coming up.

  “Window,” I say, panicking.

  Nate blinks. “What?”

  I pick up his jeans and shirt and throw them at him. “Window.”

  I slide the window open and shove Nate toward it. He reluctantly obeys, carefully easing out onto the roof outside.

  “Sorry,” I whisper as I block my view of him with thick curtains.

  I turn back to the room, hearing feet reach the landing down the hall as Nate’s semen drips down my leg.

  God, what do I do?

  “Kimber?”

  I cringe and run to the bathroom, tossing my robe to the floor and turning on the showerhead. I hop inside, cringing beneath the cold burst of water, but I force myself to endure it for another few seconds.

  “Kimber?” I hear again.

  “Curtis?” I say, acting normal. “Is that you?”

  He pokes his head into the bathroom. “I got halfway to Topeka and realized I left my wallet.”

  I laugh. “Oh, yeah?”

  “I’ve got it now.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

  I nod as I stare at the drain beneath me. “See you then.”

  He disappears from the doorway. I stand under the water, rinsing the sweat and fluids off my skin as my pulse tries to return to normal... if that’s at all possible.

  That was too close.

  I step out and wrap a towel around me on my way back into the bedroom. I scan the room for anything out of place, anything at all that might have given us away.

  My eyes land on the chair in the corner. Nate’s white hat sits on the cushion.

  I bite my lip. Maybe Curtis didn’t notice. He surely would have said something if he did.

  “Nate?”

  I walk to the window and open the curtains to look outside.

  The roof is empty. He’s gone.

  Twenty-Three

  Nate

  I have to get out of here.

  I can’t stay on this roof. Looking out, I can see directly into the windows of neighboring houses across the street. If I can see them, then someone can see me.

  I have to get down.

  I pull my pants up, leaving them unzipped as I try and twist into my shirt. I might have slipped it on inside out but there is no time to care about that.

  Curtis came home. I see his truck in the driveway. If I can see him, then he can see me—

  For fuck’s sake. Move, Nate.

  I force my shoes on and crawl to the edge of the roof, looking for a good place to get down. If I hang down, it’s not too far to drop. I can probably reach the railing of the porch with my toes to keep from falling the whole way. If I do slip, it might hurt a bit but the bushes will break my fall.

  Or I can leap off, grab that tree branch, shimmy across, and climb down...


  Eh, the drop is probably safer.

  I take a breath and turn around, slowly letting my legs down first. I feel so stupid. So unbelievably stupid but, hey — had sex.

  She took the blindfold off. I can’t believe she did that—

  Focus, Nate.

  I lower down, stretching my toes to touch the porch railing. They just barely graze it. This is so risky but it’s either get down and run or come face-to-face with the man whose wife I just came into.

  I let go. The railing slows my fall and I tumble safely into the bushes below. I roll out of them without thinking and run around the house toward the backyard, hoping to find someplace obvious to hide until Curtis leaves again.

  I dive into the bushes of the next yard over and curl into a low fetal position to catch my breath.

  A burst of water sprays my back.

  I twist around only to get hit in the face again with the stream of a hose held by Jovie Ross.

  “Hey, Joanne, check it out,” she says, her hand on her hip. “A weed.”

  I close my eyes and exhale hard, dripping wet and painfully out of ideas. “Hi, Jovie...”

  Jovie chucks the hose to the ground next to Joanne’s kiddie pool. She bends down and picks the splashing baby up, her smirk curling to one side as she turns to stares at me.

  “Come on in, milkman,” she says. “Let’s talk.”

  Jovie hands me a bath towel.

  “Thanks,” I say before smothering my wet face with it.

  She sits down at her kitchen table across from me, instantly crossing her arms and glaring at me as I dry myself off. Three large rectangles of white paper sit rolled up to one side, propped back by three jars or red, white, and blue paint and giant brushes.

  Joanne hops up and down beside her, strapped into a bouncy chair and giggling at us every so often.

  I smile at her. Cute kid.

  I connect again with Jovie’s glare. “It’s not what it looked like,” I say, setting the towel down.

  “Really?” she says. “Because it looked like my neighbor shoved a half-naked man out of the bedroom window seconds after her husband walked through the front door.”