"How long have you waited?” I asked, more seriously than I'd intended.
"Too long,” he said, as he pulled my body against him, running his other hand down my spine. I ached with the need to press myself against him, to touch as much of him as possible. However, my head felt like it had a death metal band beating around inside it.
I groaned with disappointment as I slid back down, placing my cheek against his chest. Alfred held me tightly against him, cradling me as if I would disappear should he let go.
"I've got to get my mind on something else,” I mumbled, my face still pressed against him.
"Well,” he sighed, “you never told me your opinion of the dream."
"My interpretation, you mean?"
"Mmhm."
I thought about the dream for a moment, my brain seemed to be inside a heavy fog, but I remembered the important parts.
"Water,” I began, “is always symbolic of emotions. Like, if it were rain, then emotions would be pouring down on you. But in this case, they were nearly concealed, beneath the surface, coming up through the floor."
I paused for a moment before continuing, “You were trying to find a light in the dark ... and these emotions, you were sinking in them, they overwhelmed you."
I pulled back enough to see his face when I asked, “Do you really see me that way?"
Alfred gave me a smile that warmed me in places the hot water could never reach.
"I think you're the only one who doesn't,” he said.
His response surprised me.
"But ... I'm scarred,” I said.
He placed his hand against the side of my face, stroking my cheek with his thumb.
"Your most devastating scars are not worn on the outside,” he said.
Not knowing what to say, I lowered my eyes. Alfred put his hand underneath my chin, and turned me back to face him. “You are not a ruined beauty,” he whispered kindly. “I see the way you hide your scars. From everyone else, that's fine ... but not from me ... you don't need to hide from me. Every time you let me catch a glimpse I think you're secretly trying to horrify me, to prove that you are a monster, because in your mind, you look like one."
Alfred was right. All this time, I thought he was oblivious to what was going on around him, but I was wrong. He may have seen more of me than I did. Just when I thought we had finally changed to a subject that didn't arouse me, he kissed me again.
"You meant to get my mind off sex, remember?"
He pressed his lips against my forehead in a gesture that made me feel pitiful and lost. “Don't take this as rejection,” he teased, “but, maybe you should put some clothes on."
I laughed. “You're the only man who's ever asked me to put clothes on."
"Well,” he said, “you're the only woman I've ever made that suggestion to."
I splashed away from him to prop on the tub again as I said sarcastically, “Oh, I feel so special."
"You should,” he said sternly, “I would have just molested anyone else."
I giggled. “Don't make me laugh, it hurts."
"If I didn't care so much about you, that's not the only thing that would be hurting by now."
That made me laugh before I could stop myself. “Alfred!” I scolded, cradling my aching head in my hands, “Are you trying to kill me?"
He laughed again, echoing that deep and seductive rumble that I'd noticed before as I propped my head against the tub again. He started to get out of the tub, smiled at me and said, “No peeking."
"You're kidding right? If I don't get to touch, the least I can do is look."
"You should have looked when you had the chance,” he teased.
"That's not fair. I couldn't see through the bubbles,” I protested.
He looked at me and crossed his arms with an expression that said it didn't matter how much I argued the matter, he wasn't putting on a show for me.
"Fine,” I sighed, closing my eyes.
I heard Alfred climbing out of the tub and after a few moments, couldn't control my urge to look. I opened my eyes just in time to see him take his dark chocolate colored bathrobe and swing it around his shoulders. The view from the back was so good, I wished I'd opened my eyes in time to see the front. The lovely caramel of his skin glowed with moisture, causing the light to reflect off the perfectly formed muscles of his back. Alfred was in better shape than I had suspected. It was a shame what his clothes concealed. His legs were as nicely toned as his back, but it was his ass that I couldn't keep my eyes off. Alfred had a beautiful ass. I smiled to myself as I observed the lovely muscular dimples flex near his hip as he half turned to tie his robe.
"What are you smiling at?” he asked, turning back to me.
"Nice ass,” I said, feeling some satisfaction when he blushed. “Any chance I could see the rest?"
"Not tonight,” he winked, as he retrieved a towel from the linen closet built into the wall. “You're injured, remember?"
Making a conscious decision to be wicked, I reached out, trying to find the switch in my mind I had flipped when dealing with Bade earlier that evening. I felt the same warm rush through my body I'd felt before as I replied, “Give me till morning."
He took a shaky breath before asking, “What the hell was that?"
"I'm not sure yet. Did you like it?"
Alfred smiled, looking unsure of how to proceed with the conversation. “Are you trying to seduce me?"
I smiled provocatively, relishing the opportunity to throw his own smartass remark back in his face. “If I were trying to seduce you, you wouldn't have to ask."
"Fair enough,” he said, placing a large black towel on the edge of the tub.
A rush of energy seemed to flow out of me as I let go of the seductive power I had tapped into. I felt weaker than before. Apparently it took effort to be a sexual deviant. Alfred helped me to stand while he wrapped the towel around my body. I felt cold without either Alfred or the hot water to keep me warm.
I shivered slightly as I stepped onto the fuzzy rug beside the tub.
"Would you like me to dry you?” Alfred asked.
"And have you get a cheap thrill from running your hands all over me? I don't think so."
"It wouldn't be cheap,” he insisted. “Come on then,” he said, smiling, “I've got another solution."
Alfred carried me back into the bedroom, removed my towel and spread it across the foot of his king size bed.
"This is your solution?” I asked skeptically. “Get me naked again?"
He laughed. “Just lie across the towel and shut up."
"Ooo, I like it when you're forceful,” I teased.
I crawled slowly onto the bed, my head still spinning, but improving slowly. I stretched out face down across the towel, resting my cheek against my hands. I heard Alfred rummaging around under the bathroom sink.
"What are you doing?” I asked, without turning to look.
"Ssh,” he said.
Well, I didn't know where to put being told to shut up twice in under five minutes. So, I shut up. He came back a few minutes later with a blow dryer.
"You leave me no choice,” he said grimly as he looked for an outlet close by.
"Are you gonna blow me?” I giggled.
He gave me a look that said in no uncertain terms I should stop while I was ahead.
"Sorry,” I said, still giggling. “I couldn't help myself."
"Try,” he replied, attempting to sound stern, but failing miserably due in part to the grin he couldn't wipe off his face.
"How's your head?” he asked as he turned on the dryer.
"Better, I think."
I'm not sure if it was the warm air across my skin, or the soothing low hum of the dryer that relaxed me so drastically, but I was nearly asleep when Alfred said, “Want me to dry your hair?"
"Sure,” I stretched, catlike and rolled over.
Alfred sat cross legged on the bed, placing my head in his lap. I pulled the towel over me, more to hold in the warmth than to cover up. As he rubbed ov
er the sore spot on the back of my skull I asked, “Did I get him?"
"The guy who hit you?"
"Yeah."
"If you mean the guy lying beside you on the ground, whose face looked like hamburger, yeah, you got him."
"Good,” I said nastily. “Bastard hit me twice in the same damn spot."
"What happened to Bade's nipple, by the way?” he asked.
I looked up at him without lifting my head. “You saw him?"
"Only briefly. He turned and ran just as I came into the clearing.” He added disappointedly, “Couldn't get a clear shot."
Alfred ran his fingers through my hair as he dried it, causing it to stand on end.
"So, what happened?” he pressed.
"I bit it off,” I said mater-of-factly.
"Hmm, I shouldn't have asked,” he said.
"Why? Does it bother you? It was life and death, for crying out loud, I had to do something."
"Oh, it's not that,” he assured me.
"Then what is it?"
"Um, exactly how close to my nipples were you when we were in the tub?"
My laugh sounded soft and seductively throaty as I replied, “Honey, I was close to a lot of things. If I were you, nipples would be the least of my concern."
"Planning to permanently injure me, were you?” he smiled.
"Give me till morning,” I repeated darkly.
He settled back against the pillows and reached for me. As I cuddled up against him I couldn't resist provoking him. “I thought you weren't a teddy bear."
"Don't spread it around,” he said with a charming half smile.
"Alfred?"
"Yes.” He reached for the remote to the flat screen television mounted above the mantle over the fireplace.
"What if I die in my sleep?"
He looked at me like that was out of the question. “Well, aren't you just a little ray of sunshine?” He smiled compassionately. “Don't look so pitiful. I'm going to stay up for a while.” He kissed my forehead, holding his lips against me only a few seconds longer than was necessary. "Io volonta guardare sopra tu," he whispered. (I will watch over you.)
"Mmmm,” I purred. “Keep talking."
He smiled as I ran my hand inside his robe. “Do you think that's wise?” he asked.
"Allow me something,” I half heartedly complained as I began to rub over the hair on his chest. I ran my bare foot along his leg, appreciating how the soft hair felt against the smoothness of my skin.
"Do you always snuggle this good?” he asked playfully.
"Always,” I sighed as I drifted off to sleep, still rubbing his chest.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Eight
If I had dreams, I don't recall, but I do remember feeling safe. I awoke the next morning, not wanting to open my eyes, afraid that the man wrapped around me might be just a dream. My eyes fluttered reluctantly open and I surveyed the comfortable décor of Alfred's room. We had switched places somehow in the night, and I was now facing the bay window that overlooked the garden out back. There were inviting suede seats built into the wall underneath the window, covered with a variety of cream and chocolate colored pillows. The cabinet drawers built underneath the seats must have held something special. There was a tiny gold lock attached to one drawer. As lovely and inviting as the bay window was, it let in entirely too much light. This, I reasoned must be why Alfred had preferred thick bed curtains instead of the sheer fabric like I had upstairs.
As I looked up to find the rope to pull the bed curtains shut, I noticed how well the deep mahogany of his four poster bed blended with the room. Alfred had decorated the room all by himself, and the more I looked at it, the more I liked his choices. Of course, I couldn't mention this to Kat. In her opinion, only gay men knew how to decorate properly. The rope was located on the left side of the bed, just out of my reach. As I stretched up to pull the cord, I noticed that not only was my towel long gone, but I was pressed against Alfred's naked thigh.
His arm tightened around my ribs. I couldn't reach the rope without waking him. Settling back against his warm body, I realized that I didn't want to wake him just yet. I reached behind me and ran my hand up his bare thigh. My pulse raced, but my head didn't throb. That was always a good sign. His robe must have fallen open in the night, but he was still wearing it. As I lay there, I was suddenly very aware of how big Alfred was. My small body fit completely in the curve of his. I could feel his chin propped against the top of my head, and my feet where he was spooned against me, only reached to his shin. I felt so small and helpless as I understood he could have taken advantage of me any time he wanted to the night before, but he didn't. He really was a gentleman. Bearing that in mind, I decided he deserved a reward. I lifted his arm from around my waist and rolled toward him. His robe still managed to carefully conceal the part I was most interested in. Placing my leg over his, I began to run my hand up his inner thigh.
"Your hands are cold,” he said, with his eyes still closed.
I jumped all over, like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar.
Alfred laughed as he moved my hand from his thigh and held it against his chest.
"I know you weren't thinking of molesting me in my sleep.” He smiled.
"Of course not,” I lied, trying to look innocent.
"How's your head?"
"Better, it's stopped throbbing."
He rolled me quickly onto my back as he said, “Well, that's the only thing that has."
"Alfred?” I said, grabbing a handful of his beautiful behind.
"Hmm?” he said, as he kissed along the side of my neck.
"What about Elijah?"
He snorted with laughter as he replied, “Little peckerwood's lucky I didn't throw him in the dungeon."
"You're horrible,” I teased, but my heart wasn't in it.
"Don't be so quick to judge,” he whispered against my ear, his voice filled with so many lustful promises.
When I would have expected unbridled desire, Alfred kissed me so softly that it took my breath away. Never have I been kissed in such a way. There is no delicate way of saying that every muscle between my thighs jumped in response to that soft kiss. I have never been so instantly aroused in my life. As I tried to deepen the kiss, Alfred whispered, "lento giu." (Slow down.) But, I didn't want to slow down. I wanted it fast, and I wanted it now. I moaned as Alfred pressed against me, our bodies only separated by his robe.
Then we heard what was unmistakably a knock at the front door. The cathedral ceiling in the foyer caused it to echo down the hall. As Alfred moved to kiss me again, I knew he was planning to ignore it. But the next knock was louder and Alfred rolled off of me as he growled, "Vaffanculo." (Screw it.)
He pounced back over me with a malicious grin as he said, “Brace yourself."
"For what?” I laughed.
"I'm going to kill Kathryn.” And with that he dashed out of the room toward the front door.
"Alfred, wait,” I yelled as I grabbed his spare honey colored robe from the bathroom.
By the time I caught up with him, he was already standing with the door open, staring menacingly at Kathryn. I tried to skid to a halt, but I was running too fast. Alfred barely moved when I slammed into his very solid back.
"Good morning, Kathryn, how good of you to stop by,” he said in a tone that clearly contradicted his genteel greeting.
I slapped his ass and whispered, “Behave yourself."
He smiled at me over his shoulder and strutted angrily off to the kitchen with a muttered, “I was hungry anyway."
As I watched him walk away, barefoot and naked except for the chocolate colored robe, I knew exactly what I wanted for breakfast. But, I would have to settle for French toast. Kat gave an appreciative whistle as I turned back to greet her.
"Why didn't you ever tell me he looked that good in a bathrobe?” Her tone said she'd been royally gypped.
"I didn't know,” I answered honestly.
She noti
ced the faint bruise across my cheek where Bade had hit me.
"Anything kinky?"
"Unfortunately, no,” I smirked.
Kat looked at me more closely and said, “Shit, I did it again, didn't I?"
"It's alright, Kat,” I said, putting my arm around her shoulder and leading her to the kitchen. “I forgot to leave you a message."
Alfred had already begun to fix French toast when we sat down at the table.
"Smells good in here,” Kat commented.
"Yeah, well the only thing good about the French is their toast,” Alfred replied irritably.
Just then, Elijah came staggering in wearing my black velvet robe with the red silk trim. He had a cut above one eyebrow, a black eye, a cut lip, and a bruise in the middle of his forehead. He walked over and turned my face from side to side. The bruise that Bade had left looked more like a bit of dirt smeared across my cheek. There was another faint bruise just below the hairline on my forehead where I'd gotten kicked in the face. Everything else was nearly healed.
"You look like shit,” I said to Elijah.
"And you don't,” he said, like it wasn't fair.
"Gees, what happened to you people?” Kat asked.
"A whole goddamned pack of werewolves,” Elijah said wearily.
I was pleased to see that Elijah, thus far wasn't treating me any differently, but when he noticed Alfred, he went pale.
"I'll be right back,” he said and left the room.
Kat gave me a questioning look. I shrugged in response, but decided to follow him.
"Elijah,” I put my hand on his shoulder and he winched. “Sorry."
"It's alright,” he said, turning around.
"Look, I know you saw me ... do some things last night that...."
"It's not you,” he cut in.
"Then what's wrong?"
"What you did was ... necessary. Life or death, you know?"
"Yeah,” I agreed hesitantly.
"But him,” he motioned toward the kitchen, “he enjoyed it."
"What do you mean?"
"When he got to you and saw the condition you were in, he went berserk,” Elijah looked horrified with the memory. “They were already running away. He shot them in the back,” his voice shook, “he shot their legs out from under them and shot them in the head."
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