by Loki Renard
“Hello,” he said, sitting down on the stool next to her.
“Hey,” she slurred. “I thought you were out heroing. Or is that what you’re doing here? Come to rescue me again?”
“You’re drunk.”
“Yeah,” she said. “That’s the idea of alcohol.”
John nodded. He was going to tan her hide for this; that much he was sure of. But not right away. As much as he wanted to drag her out of there, lecture her, pull her pants down and slap her butt red, he needed to hear her out if she was capable of sense.
“You didn’t let me know you were going out.”
“No, because you would have stopped me,” she pointed out pragmatically. “I wanted to drown my… things.”
“Sorrows?”
“Yeah.”
She still hadn’t made eye contact with him. He didn’t know if that was because she was ashamed, or scared, or just too drunk to care. Probably a mixture of the three.
“And how’s that working out for you?”
“Shuddup,” she replied. “I’m not done yet.”
“You won’t ever be done. Sorrows don’t drown in alcohol. They swim in it. They breed in it. You start with a sorrow or two and you end up with dozens more.”
She snorted. “You talk so much shit, John.”
“Mhm, and you’re deep in the same stuff. Come on, let’s go home.”
“Don’t want to.”
“Don’t care if you want to,” he replied. “It’s time to go.”
Sarah took a firmer hold of the bar. “You can’t make me,” she said defiantly. “I’m going to stay here as long as forever.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” John swept her up over his shoulder and carried her out of the bar in a fireman’s lift. There were a few whoops and cheers from intoxicated patrons, who seemed to enjoy the spectacle of a squirming blonde being taken in hand by her man. For her part, Sarah amped up the drama by flailing about, squealing at the top of her lungs and generally carrying on.
“Settle down,” he said as he put her into the passenger seat of his truck. “And if you’re going to be sick, do it out the window.”
He started buckling her in, noticing that she wasn’t fighting him anymore. She was just staring at him with a glazed blue gaze.
“You’re mad at me,” she said with a shift in mood so common in drunk people. “You hate me, don’t you.”
“I don’t hate you,” he said calmly as he snapped the seat belt into place.
“I want to go home,” she said sadly.
“We’re going home.”
“I want to go to my home, but I can’t, can I. I can’t ever go home ever again.”
John made no reply to that. He knew she was sad, but being sad wasn’t an excuse for the sort of behavior Sarah was starting to indulge in, and there was no way he was going to let her get away with it. He shut the passenger door, walked around the truck, got in the driver’s seat, and drove her home without another word.
Sarah had dozed off by the time they got back. There was no point waking her up to lecture her. There was no point doing anything other than putting her to bed and keeping an eye on her to make sure she wasn’t sick. He did both, making sure she was tucked in nicely, ignoring the way she smelled of secondhand smoke as she curled up beneath the blankets, drooling on the pillow in deep slumber.
“What am I going to do with you?” He murmured the question softly to her sleeping form.
Sarah did not reply.
*
Sarah woke up the next morning with a pounding headache and a sense of keen regret. She got out of bed, pulled some clothes on, and stumbled into the kitchen, where she just managed to make it into a chair at the kitchen table. “Urgh,” she said, drawing her knees up to her chest as she put her hands to her head.
“Morning,” John said, sipping his coffee. “How do you feel?”
“Look,” Sarah said, in an effort to get ahead of the trouble. “I’m sorry, okay, I know…”
“Let’s talk about it later,” he said. “You should eat a little something first.” He walked over and put a plate of toast in front of her.
She could barely bring herself to look him in the face, but she had to. She had to see just how angry he was with her. He was probably furious, she figured.
It took her almost a minute, but finally she gathered the courage to glance up over her toast. It struck her all over again just how handsome he was. He was wearing a t-shirt that was just tight enough to show the outline of his pecs, and she could see the definition in his arms as well, strength that could be used to comfort, or…
“Am I… in trouble?”
He looked at her steadily with those warm brown eyes. “What do you think?”
“I think I am trouble,” she said, her voice scratchy. “I think I should get out of your hair.”
“I like you in my hair, Sarah,” he said calmly. “We’ll talk after breakfast.”
She attempted to consume a piece of toast, but there was no way her stomach or nerves were going to cooperate.
“I can’t eat,” she said, giving up after having nibbled a fraction of the crust. “Too nervous. Can you please just beat me now?”
“Okay,” he said. “Let’s talk now. On the couch, young lady.”
Sarah did as she was told, not wanting to make John any angrier than he probably already was. Not that he seemed all that angry. He seemed calm. But that was how he was whenever he dealt with her in a disciplinary way. She found herself blushing, embarrassed that he felt the need to discipline her at all. But she also knew she’d brought it on herself. She’d not only gone out and gotten drunk to the point of passing out, she’d left him a note telling him she was doing it. To tell him it was none of his business now wouldn’t even make sense. On some level, she’d wanted him to do exactly what he’d done—come and drag her butt out of the bar and make sure she didn’t do anything like it again.
John sat down next to her, turned toward her so he could see her fully. “What got into you?” He asked the question relatively gently. “I thought things were going well between us. Are you trying to sabotage things?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe.”
“Why?”
Suddenly she couldn’t look at him anymore. She could only manage the barest glance at John, tears gleaming in her eyes. “Everyone I ever loved, or whoever loved me is dead. So I can’t like you. And I can’t have anything good. I know, if I have something good, it will get taken away.”
“Oh, baby…” He wrapped his arms around her as she began to sob against his chest, the pain of decades unleashed.
“I can’t,” she said over and over. “That’s why you have to go. Why I have to go. We can’t be together, John. It will kill you, and I think that will kill me.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“You literally run into burning buildings for a job,” she said, pulling back and wiping the tears from her eyes.
“That’s right. And I’m good at it,” he said. “We don’t act at random, Sarah.”
“But you put yourself in danger.”
“Life is dangerous. You know that. That’s not a reason not to live. And it’s definitely not a reason not to love—if you could help it, which you can’t.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her eyes flashed with anger.
“I know more than you think,” he replied. “You’re not the only one who ever lost someone, Sarah. You’re not the only orphan in this room either.”
She frowned at him. “You mean… you…”
“Lost both my parents when I was twelve,” he said. “House fire. It’s why I became a fireman. That was my way of dealing with it. I couldn’t fix what had happened to me, but maybe I could stop it from happening to someone else. And I think I have. So I can find some peace with what happened back then, and I don’t have to live in fear of what might happen now.”
She curled up next to him, feeling the strength of his bo
dy against her smaller frame. “I’m sorry,” she said. “That’s horrible. And I’ve been acting… I’ve been selfish. I never even asked anything about your parents, or you. It’s been about me this whole entire time. You could be from Mars for all I know.”
“You just lost your home,” he said comfortingly. “And I’ve never told you that much about my past. There was no way for you to know any of this.”
“So that’s why you helped me,” she said. “That’s why you’ve been so nice… through everything.”
His eyes were warm as he looked down at her. “Like attracts like, Sarah. I knew what you were the moment we met. I think you knew what I was too. Maybe not consciously. But I think you knew we shared something important. I think that’s why you’ve trusted me since the beginning.”
“So how do you do it? How do you act so… why aren’t you like me?”
“Why aren’t I a cute girl with an attitude?” He grinned as she rolled her eyes at him. “Well, I’ve had almost a decade longer than you to work through things, plus, I was lucky. I went to military school.”
Sarah screwed her nose up. “Doesn’t sound lucky.”
“It gave me a family. Gave me camaraderie. And I never got the chance to get too far out of line or go off the rails. I worked out my anger on the sergeants and they worked that right back on me.” He smirked. “By the time I got out of there, I had my head on straight. You would have benefited from that kind of discipline.”
“I would not!”
He laughed at her expression of horror.
“Well, you’re getting it now and it’s working.”
“Is it?”
“Mhm.” He ran his palm over the jeans-clad rise of her rear. “I think it’s working nicely. Not quickly, but nicely.”
“Oh, yeah, you reckon you can spank me into being a fine, upstanding citizen like yourself?”
“I think I can spank you into giving yourself a chance to give me a chance.” He tapped her bottom lightly and dropped a kiss on the top of her head.
Sarah looked up at him, feeling much better for their conversation. “You know what I think?”
“Tell me,” he smiled.
“I think you like control.”
“I do like control,” he admitted plainly. “And there’s nothing wrong with exerting control, where it’s needed and for good reasons. With you, for instance.”
His eyes were locked on hers as that little spark lit between them, an intangible reaction that occurred whenever their skin met. Suddenly, Sarah wasn’t sad anymore. She was horny. She tipped her face up to him and pressed her lips to the underside of his jaw, nipping lightly.
“You know what else?” He murmured the question as his hand slid over and around behind her neck. “I think it does you good to lose control every now and again.”
“Oh, yeah? Why is it so good for you to have control and me to lose it?” She asked the question playfully as he turned toward her and rose above her, the bulk of his body blocking out the light from the bulb above. His shadow fell over her as his fingers started to work at the buttons of her blouse and then her jeans.
“It’s good for you to lose it because you got too much too early, and you got far too used to it,” he growled, tugging her jeans down her legs. Sarah let out a little giggle as he reached back and pulled her panties off the same way. He certainly knew how to strip a woman efficiently, she gave him that. Within a minute she was entirely devoid of clothing, and so was he. Their discarded coverings laid on the floor and the coffee table as he tugged her down on the couch, laying her out on the soft leather.
“This is what it feels like to lose control,” he said, pinning her hands above her head, his mouth grazing her neck. “It feels good, doesn’t it, Sarah?”
He kissed her softly and thoroughly, his mouth capturing hers over and over, his tongue tasting her. He was right, she had no control. Her mind was fogging over with desire and her animal impulses were taking over, following his lead. John kept her pinned with one hand, his other caressing her breasts, her stomach and down between her thighs, grazing lightly over her lower lips.
Sarah let out a little gasp as she felt him touch her at the spot where her need was welling. She was already wet. Emotion was sex to Sarah and as John’s strong body slid between her legs and made them part around him, her hips rose toward him, desperately seeking his cock. She felt the hot head brush across her stomach once or twice, but he was keeping it from her for the moment, making her whimper and beg and whine for the pleasure only he could give.
There was no resisting him in this state. She wanted him more than she wanted her fear and as a result the fear fled, leaving a sense of freedom and arousal that was greater than anything she’d felt before. In John’s arms, she forgot everything but the moment. His touch. His kiss. His scent. His long, hard cock pressed against her belly now as he lowered himself to her and let her feel his manhood, not where she wanted it, but against the soft skin of her stomach.
His mouth traced a path down her neck, across her collarbone; he pressed his lips to her breasts and then her nipples, making fresh arousal spark in her clit. Sarah ground against him, the thick, hot, hard line of his cock brushing against that sensitive little button. She could have come like that, her hips circling in a desperate little dance.
“Not yet,” he growled, pressing down a little harder, pinning her in place, his manhood against her clit. She was locked there, unable to move, caught between his desire and hers.
“This is what it means to be mine,” he purred against her ear. “And you are mine, Sarah. Don’t forget that.”
She looked into his eyes and saw pure possession there. He wanted her. He wanted all of her and he didn’t care about how messed up she was, or how badly she’d acted, or anything else. There were no external forces anymore. There was only he and she. He pulled back, letting the head of his cock slide down her wet lips before finding the little crevice in those soft folds and thrusting forward to penetrate her deeply.
A gasp escaped her as her lower lips wrapped around him and he surged back and forth. Her wetness meant there was no need for a gentle beginning. He thrust hard, stroke after stroke making her breasts bounce as he kept her there, hands above her head, legs wrapped around his waist.
Sarah felt his desire like a titanic force rolling through her, tossing her high and throwing her from peak to peak. She was lost in lust, the slick sound of her juices mixing with the gasped breaths and moans that he drew from her with every masterful motion of his hips.
She found herself wishing that it would never end. That she could ride the waves of his desire forever and forever and never be left high and dry again. The thought made her wrap her legs around him even harder, pulling herself against him, as if she could lock him inside her.
Her leg lock made it harder for him to pull out, but he didn’t fight that. Instead he sank deep and held himself there, looking into her eyes and brushing the hair off her forehead with his free hand.
“Are you alright?”
She nodded, grinding against him.
“I’ve never seen anyone look so hot and so…” he pressed a kiss to her mouth, his tongue engaging with hers, “…angry. You look almost fierce.”
“I do?” She kept squirming her hips, grinding her clit and her pussy, enjoying the hardness of his body. She didn’t want to talk. She wanted to fuck. She wanted him to fuck her until she couldn’t think straight.
“Mhm… my little wildcat.” He let go of her hands and leaned back upright. He took her legs and put them over his shoulders, one ankle on each side of his neck as he arched forward, his thickness riding higher in her cunt, filling her a different, new way. Words and thoughts were obliterated as he took her more deeply than he ever had before, demanding everything she had to give. It was everything Sarah needed: absolution, catharsis, and a building orgasm that made her tingle to the very tips of her toes and fingers. The position made his hardness rub against the little hard bud on the top of her va
ginal wall and triggered a climax more powerful than any that had come before it. Her body was working a similar magic on John, her pussy clenching against him, drawing him deeper, begging for his cum as her entire body started to quake.
“Sarah…” She heard John growl her name as he lost control with her. She came, screaming her pleasure to the ceiling, John buried himself deep inside her, his cum soaking her walls. For one brief, bright moment, she understood to the very core of her that she was safe and loved and that nothing could touch what she had found with him. Not sickness, not even death. They were bonded in a way that transcended the flesh and she was filled with a feeling of freedom and love as John slid from her and pulled her onto his lap, hugging her tightly as they both recovered.
“Okay,” he finally sighed with post-coital satisfaction. “We need to talk.”
“This doesn’t sound good,” she commented with a little frown. Odin joined the conversation, curling up in front of them on the floor. Sarah scrunched her toes lightly into his fur and he made a satisfied groan before closing his eyes and falling back asleep.
“I have to go back to work in the next day or two. They’re long shifts, and some of them are going to be night shifts.”
“Okay…”
“I’ll be blunt about it. I don’t want you alone in the house at night,” he said. “I don’t want you alone all day either, for that matter. It’s obvious it’s not good for you. I don’t want you tempted to go out and get drunk, or something else just as silly.”
“I can manage myself,” Sarah said, feeling a little offended. “I managed fine before I met you, I don’t need you to babysit me.”
“How, exactly, did you manage?”
“What do you mean?” Sarah was confused. “I have money.”
He shifted so he could look at her, read her every expression. Sarah always got nervous when he did that. There was something keen about him. When he wanted to know something about her, she got the feeling there was no way she could ever have hidden it. She had a little box of secrets locked away inside her. He didn’t know everything yet, but she was terrified that one day he would have them all.
