by J. J. Murray
Calma, calma. Take deep breaths.
She isn’t even close to the kind of woman I’ve been with, not even close to the woman I need. She’s bossy, arrogant, narcissistic, crude, rude, and—
She had the nicest little—
Take deep breaths.
And the way her—
Calma, calma.
He went to his wardrobe, opening and taking out a pair of sweats. She could camp out in these. He pushed aside some clothing, lifted a stack of shirts, and shook his head at his boxers.
I don’t have a thing for her to wear.
He looked at the bearskin again.
She wouldn’t wear that, would she?
He set his jaw. If Alessandro tells her to wear a bearskin, she will wear the bearskin. She cannot deny Alessandro, the fearless shrew tamer. “You wear this,” Alessandro will say, and Katharina will wear it. “Take this off,” Alessandro will say, and she will take it … off.
I need a much bigger towel.
Wait.
I only have this one clean towel in this cabin. He smiled. I’ll just hand her this one. “Why is it so freaking wet?” she’ll ask. Or, she’ll say, “I don’t need your towel, I don’t want your towel, I will never need your towel.”
He looked again at the bearskin.
Get a grip on yourself, man! She isn’t the one for you. She could never be. She’s been a pain in your ass since—
Oh, but her ass was just … so … nice!
It’s only an act. She is, after all, an actress.
But I met her up here. Up here is where the others said good-bye.
Katharina hates this place!
She’s surviving now.
Because of you and your help!
No. I haven’t done a thing for her in weeks. It’s been all her.
You put her on the right path. You gave her the direction.
She has those eyes …
Yeah …
And those thighs …
Oh yeah …
And she’s tough.
No more body parts?
The towel’s too small.
Oh.
I like her toughness. She’s strong. She has her own mind and she uses it. She says what she means and means what she says. There’s no deception with her. She’s honest.
And hateful.
Hatefully honest.
He looked at the bathroom door. I should just go in there and show her who the man is, show her what I’m made of, make her beg me to stop—
He sat on the bed and breathed deeply, the sounds of splashing water echoing around him.
Calma, calma.
Chapter 32
Hello? Are you one of my fingernails, too? Hi. I’m your owner. I haven’t seen you since September. How have you been? Katharina didn’t want to leave the tub—ever. Though the water was now an oddly beige-brown color, it surrounded her with warmth and softened her rough hands. She sniffed her skin and didn’t smell garlic anymore. Her legs were smooth again, though the razor had died a grisly death. Her hair was still in knots, but it was a collection of clean knots. That’s what matters. I feel and smell clean again.
And there was a man in the other room, too.
A man. She sighed. I haven’t known too many real men. The actors I worked with were great, but they had to act like real men. Alessandro. She sighed just thinking his name. It’s not an act for Alessandro. Yeah, he’s bossy, arrogant, narcissistic, crude, rude—
And he’s only wearing an itty-bitty towel! She giggled.
Oh, I’m sure he got dressed. “Is only bath.” He’s probably wearing a damn sweater, boots, and jeans. He looks good like that, though, rugged, strong. Nicely proportioned upper body, sturdy, tight butt …
The hair on his chest can go.
She shuddered.
Can a person spontaneously combust if enough static electricity is generated by chest hair? Would there be enough friction to start a fire?
“Oops,” she whispered, dropping the soap in front of her. “I’ve dropped the soap again. Now where did that slide off to … oh … yeah … there it is.”
She closed her eyes and imagined him beside her, caressing her shoulders, massaging her neck, laying a whole big stack of wood right inside her—
Poco, poco. Molto … something.
He’s not eye candy, though there’s certainly a lot of him. He’s so dark for being so white. All that hair. So serious. Yet today, when he smiled and said, “I learn for you,” my heart fluttered.
A little.
He says he has a girlfriend a thousand times prettier than me.
Poco, poco.
I bet she’s an Amazon woman with really big teeth, toes all the same size, and arms that hang to her knees.
She slid under the water one more time, wiping her eyes and shivering slightly.
This water is getting cold.
She stood.
I need a hot man.
She sighed.
No. I just need a man.
A real one.
Chapter 33
“Alessandro!”
Pietro went only to the edge of the door this time, afraid to peek inside the bathroom. “Yes?”
“The water is getting cold. Didn’t you promise me something warm to wear?”
Without another thought, Pietro took the bearskin from the bed, brought it to her, held it out, and turned away as she stepped out of the tub.
Katharina wrapped the bearskin around her shoulders. “Grazie.” So warm. And now I’m as hairy as he is! And he’s still in that itty-bitty towel!
She followed him to the fire, sat in her chair, and put her feet up on the table. Yeah, I’m giving him a free shot of my stuff. But why isn’t he looking?
Oh yeah. He’s still wearing that itty-bitty towel.
“Why is she doing this to me, Walt?” Fish whined. “Why, Walt, why?”
“You know, I remember a scene like this somewhere before.”
“How can you be so analytical at a time like this?” Fish huffed.
“It keeps me calm, Fish,” Walt said. “Otherwise I’d be as befuddled and bothered as you are.”
Pietro touched several of Katharina’s undergarments, feeling them with his fingers and thumb.
What is he doing? “Why are you touching my draws?” Katharina asked.
“To see if dry.”
Oh. I thought he was getting kinky. “Are they?”
“Your panties are wet.”
Katharina got up and touched her underwear. “They’re just moist.”
“I’m not even going to say another damn thing,” Fish said.
“What damn thing could you say?” Walt asked.
Katharina sat again and put up her feet, opening the bearskin even further. “How long before they’re dry?”
Pietro shrugged and paced in front of the fireplace. “They may not dry for a long time, Katharina.”
“Oh. Um, what should we do until they dry? Should we … talk?”
Pietro stopped pacing but did not turn away from the mantel. “I am no good talking.” He turned slowly, took a quick breath, and drank in her body.
Yes! Katharina thought. He’s going to drop that towel and take me right here! He’s going to lay the wood to me, and I’m going to scratch all his chest hair off! “Then … don’t talk, Alessandro.”
Pietro dropped the towel …
Yessssssss!
And then he stepped around the table, went to his wardrobe, put on a pair of red long johns with a flap in the back, and buttoned them up the front.
Nooooooo! Shit! Did I say that with too much attitude? I probably did. Damn! I’ve hurt his feelings, and now he’s wearing Santa’s draws!
Pietro disappeared into another room and came out with a steaming mug of coffee. He stirred it slowly before placing the mug in front of her.
Katharina smiled. “Thank you, Alessandro.”
“We have a breakthrough!” Walt yelled. “Call Vincenzo now!”
“Beca
use she said thank you? She said grazie earlier.”
Walt could barely contain his joy. “But this time she said it in English. She never says that phrase. Never.”
Fish scowled. “Let’s give it a little more time. And why didn’t he just … take her a few minutes ago?”
“Can’t you see?” Walt asked. “He’s testing her. He’s making sure that he’s tamed her.”
Katharina sipped her coffee, sweetened just right. She set down her mug and stood, letting the bearskin fall low to her back. She felt her panties again, her nipples feeling the warmth of the fire. “My panties are still wet.”
Pietro nodded.
“He just … nods?” Fish shouted. “A woman says, ‘My panties are still wet,’ and he just nods? He’s not human!”
Walt smiled. “He’s playing hard to get.”
“I could say something here,” Fish said, “but I won’t.”
Pietro suddenly sprinted across the room to the door, opened it, ran outside, and left the door wide open to the wind.
Katharina shivered and pulled up the bearskin, draping it around her shoulders and covering her chest. “Hey, shut that …” She sighed, wrapped the bearskin more tightly around her, stood, and shut the door herself.
Pietro returned with an armload of wood, adding several long branches to the fire.
“So, tell me about your girlfriend,” Katharina said. “What’s her name?”
Pietro rested his back against the mantel. “You say you do not want me to talk.”
Yep. I did it again. I hurt someone’s feelings. “That’s not what I meant, Alessandro. I like hearing you talk.”
Pietro frowned. “Then what did you mean?”
His eyes are right scary when he frowns. “Well, the way you were standing there and looking at me, I thought you were about to …”
“To what?”
Katharina’s lips fluttered. “To …” To lay the wood, to drop that ax, to split me open. “To make love to me.”
Pietro’s frown turned ever so slowly into a smile. “Is this what you thought?”
“It’s what I thought” She looked away. “I … I don’t think it anymore.” For an actress, I am a terrible liar.
Pietro nodded thoughtfully, taking a step closer to her. “But I have girlfriend. Want to know her name?”
Katharina saw his shadow hovering over her. “No, no. Not really.”
“Her name is Dena.”
“Holy shit!” Fish yelled.
“What’s Pietro doing?” Walt cried. “He can’t give it away now!”
“Maybe he’s not giving it away. Maybe he chose that name at random.”
Walt shook his head. “Oh yes. Dena is a random name to use when Dena is in the room!”
Katharina shook at the mention of her name. “That’s my … Where is she?”
Pietro pointed at Katharina.
“Okay, you’re right,” Fish said. “That wasn’t random. I think Pietro’s having a crisis of conscience here. You better call Vincenzo.”
“Wait,” Walt said. “Something’s about to happen. I don’t want to miss this.”
Katharina glanced at Pietro and saw his eyes shining. “Oh, I’m not your girlfriend, um, Alessandro. I mean, I’m grateful for all you’ve done for me, but … You know my real name?”
Pietro nodded. He reached over Katharina’s head and turned her chair to face him. Then he stood in front of her and unbuttoned his long johns. “I know,” Pietro said, and he pushed his long johns to the floor.
D-damn, Katharina thought.
Pietro knelt and parted the bearskin. “I not talk for a while.”
Katharina couldn’t speak. She caressed Pietro’s hair and thought only, Grazie, grazie, grazie …
Walt tilted his head. “Um, perhaps we shouldn’t …”
“Damn,” Fish said. “I feel so inadequate. Should we call Vincenzo?”
“And tell him … Geez, look at her face! It’s shining!” Walt caught his breath. “And tell Vincenzo what? I mean, Pietro, I mean, Alessandro could have known her real name, right? He’s just staying in character.”
“As the Italian Stallion,” Fish said. “Damn.”
Katharina cried out in ecstasy, in pure joy, as waves of pleasure rippled up from Pietro’s tongue to her neck. Her body vibrated, buzzed, trembled, and as Pietro carried her to his bed, she felt weightless as a feather …
* * *
“I can’t see this, Walt,” Fish said, turning off the backup camera. “This would ruin me for life.”
“Me too,” Walt said.
“Let’s leave this one up to the audience’s imagination.” Fish turned off all the cameras. “I think Katharina has just been tamed.”
“And it only took five weeks. Amazing.”
Fish stood and stretched. “I’ve had some champagne chilling in the fridge since we got here just for this occasion. Want some?”
Walt nodded. “Shouldn’t we tell Vincenzo what’s going on?”
Fish laughed. “We’re not out of the woods yet.” Walt rolled his eyes.
“And we still don’t have a movie. Let’s just … see what happens. I mean, Vincenzo hasn’t told Pietro that he has Bianca tied up at his place, right?”
“So you want to keep all this a secret,” Walt said. “Fine with me.” He walked to the picture window and looked out into the night. “I just hope to God the old Katharina’s back.”
Fish joined Walt at the window. “I just hope all four of them don’t start howling at once. I’m going to have enough trouble getting to sleep tonight as it is.”
Chapter 34
Oh God, fur is surrounding me, under me, on top of me, an oak tree inside me—
Katharina held on for dear life.
She is silk, so soft, so hot, such passion, so glad she has no nails or my chest hair would be gone—
Pietro held on for dear life, too.
“Turn me over,” she sighed, and he did.
Ow.
“Turn me back,” she sighed, and he did.
Less ow, but …
“Let me ride you.”
Ah, that’s better … poco, poco … Have to hold on to his … mane…. He doesn’t seem to mind. Damn, just one of his hands covers my entire booty…. No … No … don’t sit up!
“Are you okay, Katharina?”
My stomach! He’s bumping my stomach from inside!
“Yes, Alessandro.”
Push him back down. That’s better. Good. So out of practice, so sweaty. Oh God, riding his mulo …
“Um, let’s try from the side….”
I can’t get enough of her, and there’s not enough of her, so thin! Vise grips for legs, though. Very strong booty muscles, so tight, so …
“Let’s try standing up,” she whispered.
I am floating in air. He picks me up like I’m not there, settles me down … whoo … poco, poco … Oh God … I can’t help bending back….
She’s bending back, and she’s horizontal and—
I am coming and my entire body is cramping and he’s not letting go and—OW! Thank God!
They fell to the bed, wide-eyed and staring into the darkness.
“Katharina?”
“Yes?”
“Are you there?”
“Barely.”
“Me too.”
He searched for her hand, found it, and squeezed. “I have never … had such … a time before,” he whispered. “Have you?”
Chapter 35
“It was nice,” Katharina whispered. I don’t want to say it was frickin awesome, dude! But it was!
“Just … nice?” Pietro crooned.
Katharina crawled on top of him, keeping his penis far away from her stuff. “It was heaven, all right? It was unbelievable.” She kissed his warm lips. “You know it was. Thank you, Alessandro.”
“For what, Katharina?”
She grabbed his penis. “For this good wood.”
“Is that all?”
Is that all? I
t was more than plenty. “And for everything else. I’ve been meaning to thank you for all your help with the other wood, the plants, the hatchet, the shelter designs, the food … I should be thanking you for everything.”
Pietro sniffed a small laugh. “You have not been thinking of thanking me.”
“Yes, I have.”
“Be honest, Katharina.”
Katharina propped her elbows on Pietro’s chest. “I am. I couldn’t have survived without you.”
Pietro smiled in the darkness. And now for a little revealing conversation. “You could have. Easily.”
“No, I couldn’t have.”
Pietro let his voice change subtly from “Italiano” to Californian. “You didn’t need any help, Katharina. When’s the last time anyone called you ‘Dena,’ anyway?”
Why is Alessandro’s voice changing? “Your voice. What’s … happening?”
Pietro rolled her over and tapped her breastbone lightly. “You have a lot of heart under there, lady. It’s just been hiding for fifteen years.”
What … is … happening? “You can speak …”
Pietro kissed her nose. “I can speak American. I was born in L.A.”
Katharina squirmed out from under Pietro, backing all the way to the headboard. “Please don’t tell me you’re just an actor.”
Pietro pulled her legs back, the rest of her body following. “No. I’m not an actor.” He kissed her neck.
“I’m confused.” And kiss me a little lower … there. Nice. “You’re really a handyman, then?”
Pietro brushed each of Katharina’s breasts with his nose. “Yes and no.” His tongue made circles down her stomach.
“Well, whatever you are, you are extremely rude. You heard and understood everything I’ve said and acted like you didn’t!” Oh shit. He’s back at my happy place again!
Pietro laughed and continued tasting her.
“It’s not funny!” Oh, damn, there I go again! Shit. I have to have the most sensitive stuff on earth!
Pietro trailed his tongue up her body, stopping at her neck. “You have quite a sting with that tongue of yours. And yet, here I am. Here we are. No worse for wear. You seemed to like wearing me.”
