by Sky Winters
Frustration running through her, she stepped out of the shower. After drying herself off and throwing on some simple, light clothes, Tessa walked into her studio, put on a pair of noise-cancelling headphones, turned up her music up as loud as she could take it, the classic rock feeling as though it might shatter her eardrums. She set to work with her paints, knowing that working on her art was the only possible thing that could even begin to soothe her rattled nerves.
Tessa lost herself, painting with intensity and wild abandon, her brush strokes slashing across the canvas, yet leaving on the most precise and minute details. Stepping away from the canvas, she looked at the painting approvingly; it was nearly done and ready to sell.
But before she could get back into her work, she spotted a figure out of the corner of her eye. Turning, she saw a man standing just outside of one of the large windows. Tessa took in a sharp gasp, her paint dropping to the floor and splattering everywhere. Her first instinct was to call the police, but as soon as she came to her senses, she remembered that the electrician was due to come by. Checking her phone, she saw that it was fifteen after eleven already- the time had flown by.
She gestured for the electrician to meet her at the front door, and though she couldn’t make out his features through the window, she saw that he gave her a thumbs-up of acknowledgment.
Her face hot with embarrassment, Tessa walked with short, quick steps to the front door. Throwing it open, she gasped at what she revealed.
It was the electrician, alright, but this man was far from the skinny, small-town handyman she was expecting. The first trait Tessa noticed was his height: he was tall, a good few inches over Lucas, who was himself a taller-than-average man. His face was strikingly handsome, with soulful, sensual hazel eyes, a nose with a straight, strong bridge, sandy-blond hair that was tousled and wet-looking, and a wide, red mouth turned upwards in a roguish smile. His jaw was wide, and his face was slim, his bone structure more what she’d expect from a New York model than an upstate electrician. He was dressed in a simple, white shirt that hung from his square-shouldered, strapping torso, with a pair of loose blue jeans on below, and a stylish pair of brown Red Wings on his feet. If she didn’t know better, she’d almost guess he was one of those hipster guys she’d seen all the time in Brooklyn who liked to dress in blue-collar styles, but she could tell right away he was the real deal- a man who actually knew how to use his hands.
“Afternoon, miss,” he said, his low, melodic voice the same one she’d heard on the phone a couple of hours ago.
“Oh my God,” she stammered. “I’m so sorry if you were waiting a while. I just lose track of time when I’m painting sometimes. Please, come in.”
“Not a problem at all,” he said, stepping over the threshold.
Tessa noted that if he was upset, he didn’t show it in the slightest.
“I’m Tessa Henderson,” Tessa said, still coming to grips with how handsome this man was. “Can I, um, get you something to drink?”
“Atticus Swift,” he said. “And a glass of water would be just fine, if you don’t mind.”
“Oh, not at all,” said Tessa, rushing towards the kitchen.
“Are you a ‘shoes-on’ or ‘shoes-off’ kind of home?” he asked as Tessa filled a glass of water.
“Oh, on is fine. I’m not too fancy here.”
She returned to the living room and handed Atticus the glass of water.
“Thank you much,” he said, before taking a long, slow drink, his Adam’s Apple bobbing as he swallowed.
Tessa took the glass from Atticus, her eyes on his thick, ropy arms.
“Now, let me take a look at things, if you don’t mind,” he said with a smile.
“Oh, sure,” said Tessa. “Well, like I said, I think someone cut the electricity.”
Atticus’s brow furrowed.
“Well, that’s no good,” he said. “I don’t want to overstep my bounds, miss, but have you spoken to the police about this?”
“No, I haven’t gotten a chance yet.”
Atticus’s face flashed an expression of mild skepticism as he walked to the nearest light switch and flicked it a few times.
“You weren’t lying,” he said. “Totally out.”
He turned his expression back to Tessa, who felt like she might melt under his gaze. And as she looked into his eyes, she sensed something strange, something...familiar. It was almost as if she’d met him before, somewhere.
“Why don’t you take me out to where the line was cut? That’d be the best way to get to the bottom of this, I think,” he said.
“Sure, right this way,” said Tessa. “Just right outside.”
Atticus gave a smile and a nod, and headed back out the front door. Tessa’s eyes went straight to his ass as he walked, paying special attention to the way it flexed and tensed as he walked. She couldn’t understand what had come over her, but she couldn’t stop looking at him. And as she walked at his side, she felt a strange crackling of heat between them, as though the space between their bodies were charged with energy.
She led him in the direction of the electrical main.
“Sorry,” said Tessa, feeling the wet slickness of dew on her bare feet as she walked. “But I have to ask- have we met before?”
“Hm,” said Atticus, giving the matter some thought. “I don’t believe so.”
“You ever go to Hannigan’s?” asked Tessa.
“Yeah, I’ve been. Probably recognize me from there. The town isn’t all that big, you know? Bound to run into the same people.”
“Yeah,” said Tessa, not entirely convinced.
They approached the main, and Atticus let out a slow whistle as he looked over the clean slash through the main line.
“Yep, that definitely wasn’t an accident.”
“Oh, I know.”
“Well, I like I said on the phone- it’s a clean cut, and shouldn’t be too hard to fix.”
He turned back towards Tessa.
“You can go ahead and get back inside. I’m going to get my tools and get to work.”
“Sure,” said Tessa.
She started to walk off, but stopped and turned back around.
“I’m going to be in my studio again with my headphones on, so if you need me just come on in.”
“Will do,” he said, flashing another smile of pearl-colored teeth.
Tessa walked back into the house with quick steps, her eyes fixed forward. She couldn’t shake the strange mixture of feelings that was going through her mind. First, was her immediate attraction to this man. It was intense, gripping her like a massive hand; she couldn’t take her eyes off of Atticus’s lean, muscular body, his simple workman’s clothes hanging off of him in just the right way. And his face was so gorgeous and striking that it was almost difficult to look at.
And on top of everything, she just knew that she’d seen him before, that she’d met him somewhere, sometime. He hinted otherwise, but there was something familiar about him, and what’s more, the familiarity seemed recent, as though she’d met him within the last week. But the only place she’d been was that horrible party where she’d found Lucas and Atticus didn’t strike her as the type to be doing meth with dozens of teenagers.
She headed back into her studio, knowing that she needed to put all of this out of her mind- he was just the electrician, she thought. He’d fix the line and be out of here in an hour or so, and she’d never see him again. Tessa figured there was no sense in trying to puzzle out this particular mystery.
But still, his smile, and those arms.
She shook her head, flipped her music back on, cranked the volume, and snapped her headphones back onto her head. Taking her paint supplies back into her hand, she went to work, but not before flipping the room’s light switch so she’d know when the power as back on.
Turning towards the canvas, she started to paint.
After a time, the canvas in front of her was set aglow, and looking up, she saw that the overhead light was alight with
a soft, orange warmth. Surprised that Atticus could be done so quickly, she looked at her phone. Just as before, time had flown by.
“That’s a hell of a pineapple,” said the voice from the door.
Spinning around on her feet, Tessa saw that Atticus was standing in the entryway to the studio, his sweat-glistened body leaned against the doorframe.
“Oh, thanks,” she said, taken aback by the way the slick moisture on his body highlighted every dip and curve of his arms, the muscles of his chest visible through his t-shirt.
“You’re a painter, I take it?”
“Yeah, still-lives, mostly.”
“Well,” he said, looking around the room. “They’re pretty damn impressive.”
“Thanks,” Tessa said, her face growing hot and red, feeling as though she were a schoolgirl who’d somehow gained the attention of the most handsome boy in class.
“As you can see, the main’s fixed; you shouldn’t have any more problems with the line, assuming it doesn’t get cut again, that is.”
“Thanks again,” said Tessa, taking off her headphones and setting down her equipment, her arms and shirt stained with paint. “Let me get you something to drink. It must be hot out there.”
“That’d be great,” he said.
Tessa led him back into the kitchen, the whirring of the refrigerator’s motor filling what was previously dead silence.
“I think I’ve got some ice tea, and I didn’t open the freezer…” she said, opening the freezer, a small gust of cool air rushing out. “There! Cubes are still kind of OK.”
Atticus let out a small laugh.
“Anything’s fine.”
Tessa poured them two glasses of ice tea, topping the drinks with freshly sliced lemon wedges. Handing the drink to Atticus, he held the glass up to his forehead, letting the cool drink cool his skin, a drop of condensation from the glass darting down the side and along his thick, tanned wrist.
Tessa walked over to the counter by the window, glass in hand.
“Listen,” said Atticus. “Like I said, it’s none of my business, but can I ask what happened to your electrical main?”
Tessa would’ve normally made something up, and not shared personal details with a stranger. But something about Atticus made her feel comfortable opening up, and telling him the truth.
“It’s…an ex. I mean, I think it’s an ex. I mean, I think I have an ex.”
Tessa’s face scrunched up as struggled to explain her situation.
“Sounds complicated,” Atticus said, leaning against the fridge.
“It is. I mean, I’m married. Technically.”
Atticus’s thick, sandy-blond eyebrows raised.
“It’s…a long story. But the relevant part is that my husband cut the main. At least, I’m pretty sure. I don’t know what’s going on, really.”
She crossed the arm holding the glass in front of her and brought the free one to her mouth, covering it, as she looked down. Saying the words out loud filled her with a helpless, scared feeling, as she realized that she was in the middle of a situation that she had no idea how to navigate.
Atticus walked over to her, seeing that Tessa was clearly in distress. Standing next to her against the counter, he placed a hand on her shoulder. As soon as his skin touched hers, a feeling of safety and calm washed over her, as though simply being near this man was enough to let her feel that everything was fine, and that she didn’t have anything to fear.
“Sounds like you’re in a tough spot,” he said, setting his drink down on the counter.
“Yeah, you could say that,” said Tessa.
As Tessa stood near Atticus, the feeling of warmth and safety only grew, mixing with the attraction that she already felt for him. She was confused by her feelings, but what she wanted was growing clearer by the moment.
She turned and faced Atticus, looking up into his beautiful hazel eyes as he looked down at her, his brow knitted in concern. Then, giving in to the nearly overwhelming sense of attraction that had been building in her since she first lay eyes on him, she reached up, pulled Atticus towards her, and kissed him deeply and slowly. She could tell by the way his body tightened and tensed that he was somewhat surprised by what Tessa was doing, but he soon loosened, and kissed her back, wrapping his strong arms around her slim, small body.
CHAPTER 9
Tessa may have initiated the kiss, but Atticus took charge of the situation quickly. He leaned into Tessa, opening his mouth, his tongue slipping over and past her lips and meeting her own. He placed his hands on her hips, pulling her closer to him as he kissed her. Tessa took in a slow, deep breath through her nostrils, smelling his hot, sensual musk, the scent of a man who’d been working in the sun. Her fingertips moved along his arms as they kissed, the thin sheen of sweat on his body cool and wet against her skin. She wanted to drink him completely, to take in his manly essence, to envelop him into her.
Atticus began kissing Tessa on the on the side of her face, moving downward along her jaw, then down to her neck and behind her ear, the feeling of his lips on this delicate skin sending waves of gooseflesh along her limbs. The feelings inside Tessa were ones of passion that seemed strange, almost alien to her. She’d been with Lucas for years, and while she was still attracted to him, the passion seemed to have faded from their relationship as the years went on. But here, with Atticus, as he kissed her deeply and passionately, these feelings of almost animalistic lust were coming to the surface once again, seeming as though they might reach a boiling point at any moment.
Atticus, his hands still on Tessa’s hips, turned her body, placing her back against the countertop. Then, with a heave that seemed almost effortless, he lifted her onto the surface, her legs wrapping around him as she sat upon it. They continued to kiss and now their hands were exploring one another’s bodies, moving over and under each other’s clothing, to the places they both wanted to touch from the moment they first lay eyes upon one another. Tessa slipped her hands under Atticus’s shirt, confirming that his body was as hard and taut as it appeared to be. She felt herself grow wet as she snaked her hands along his body, feeling the hard divots of his tight abs and the solid contours of his pecs. It was a body that she wanted to feel, to hold, to have on top of her. And as she kissed and caressed him, Atticus moved his own hands below Tessa’s painted-stained shirt and simple, white bra, kneading her breasts softly, the feeling of his fingertips on her nipples driving her wild with lust.
Then, with a swift movement, he pulled her shirt off of her body and tossed it to the other side of the room before returning to kissing her. His hands moved down to the waistband of her pants, and after working the button free, he removed them with a slow, careful pull. Tessa was now bare aside from her white bra and simple, black, cotton panties. She felt slightly self-conscious, wishing she were wearing something sexier, but she realized with a sly smile that it didn’t really matter; she probably wouldn’t be wearing them for much longer.
Tessa slipped her hands up to the collar of Atticus’s shirt and pulled it off of his body. Though she was busy with kissing him, she knew she had to take a look at what she’d just revealed. Placing her hands on his shoulder, pushed him back slightly, her gaze dragging over his body. Sure enough, his torso was as sculpted and toned as she expected, its color a sun-kissed bronze.
“Get a good look?” he asked with a smile.
“Shut up,” she said with a wink before planting her lips back on his, opening her mouth wide, as though wanting to drink him down completely.
Whipping his shirt across the room, she next set to work on his pants, slipping the button out of the slit of his jeans and yanking them down with a hard jerk, taking his boxer-briefs down with them. She cast another side glance down as she continued to kiss him, noting with sly pleasure that his cock, by now rock-hard, was just as long and thick as she was hoping.
Atticus moved his hands up Tessa’s bare curves, moving up to her bra, reaching towards the back of it and unhooking the clasps. Pulling t
he bra off, her breasts tumbled free, her womanhood ample and full. She knew that though her body might be aging, she still had breasts that even girls in their early twenties would kill for, and judging by the way Atticus set upon them with his mouth, kissing and sucking on her pink nipples, Tessa figured that he agreed.
He stepped out of his jeans, which were now crumpled on the floor at his ankles, moving them over his boots, which he kicked off next. After he was completely disrobed, he slipped his fingers under the waistband of Tessa’s panties, pulling them down, her legs shimmying to assist him in sliding them off.
Tessa took a look at Atticus’s cock, wanting nothing more than for it to be inside of her right at that second. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt such desire, such need for a man to be in her, to pleasure her.
Then, as if sensing exactly what she wanted, Atticus took his cock by the base, and with a slow, aimed motion, slid himself into her. Tessa let out a long sigh as he entered her, feeling each inch of him move into her, stimulating her in a fashion that was so intense that she could barely stand it. He held himself still, letting his cock rest buried within her for a moment, kissing her neck.
But Tessa wanted him to fuck her, and to fuck her now. Moving her hands to the firm, curved flesh of his smooth ass, she pressed against him, imploring him to push deeper into her, then to slide out, and do it all over again.
Tessa realized happily that Atticus was very good at picking up on hints. Sliding out of her, his cock stimulating her just as much on the way out as it did on the way in, Atticus began thrusting. Slowly at first, his throat emitting a soft grunt as he came to terms with how good his cock felt inside of her. Tessa’s hands remained on his ass, feeling the muscles beneath the taut skin flex and release as he thrusted, moving his cock in and out of her.
