by A K August
KATIE
Anthony’s arms around me tightened, pressing me closer as I stared into his emerald eyes, bright with passion. Our breaths mingled as we heaved and I wasn’t sure if the exertion from the impromptu water fight was the only cause. I could feel his thundering heart and the pressure in his pants build as our thighs came into contact.
Yeah, he’s as excited as I am.
The look said he wanted to kiss me. I wanted to be kissed. I felt his hands on my lower back slowly rising to my neck, pressing me closer, and I arched toward him, closing my eyes. Then a large breath blew across my cheek, along with a damp sheen. My eyes flew open and settled first on Anthony, who was smiling and focused behind me. Turning slightly, I startled, looking directly into the eye of a horse. The horse moved to nuzzle Anthony’s shoulder then sauntered past toward the paddock, giving Anthony one more nudge into his back and pushing Anthony’s chest into more contact with me.
Anthony laughed, looking down on me.
“You think that’s funny?” I chuckled.
“Yeah,” he said, his eyes full of mirth. As he replied, I tipped up on my toes and smeared my wet slimy cheek across Anthony’s face then took off down the road, laughing. I looked over my shoulder as Anthony wiped his face on his t-shirt before chasing after me. I giggled more and increased my pace. I ran track all through high school, even finishing third at State; I was pretty confident my lead would hold and probably lengthen.
I made it back to the guesthouse and went directly to the bathroom, turning the shower on to warm it up. Still laughing, I stripped off my damp clothing, dropping them in a heap on the floor as I replay the moments leading up the horse’s arrival, Anthony’s arm holding me clasped to him, our hearts pounding in our chests, our co-mingled heat steaming around us.
I stood naked, watching myself in the mirror, remembering that moment and envisioning what might have happened if I just kissed him. I could feel Anthony cupping my face, bringing his mouth softly down to mine for a long, languid kiss, coaxing my lips to part then diving his tongue in to taste. One hand would stroke my hair then run down my back, giving my rear a slight squeeze while the other wrapped around my breast, kneading it, letting it fill his palm. I follow my thoughts, touching myself as he would, squeezing my ass, my breast, closing my eyes as I bring my hand down to my hot center, parting the folds and teasing around my wet entrance. My hands continue to act as Anthony’s, teasing a nipple into a hard bud then moving over to the other breast, stroking it possessively. I jump as my finger grazes my clit, circling it gently.
Opening my eyes slightly, I realize the bathroom door isn’t fully closed and I find Anthony watching from the middle of the room. I pause just as my fingers are rounding for home. I should feel ashamed, close the door at least, but I am unable to move. He hasn’t moved either, nor said a thing, and my gaze moves lower to the prominent bulge in his pants.
My core contracts involuntarily and I feel the heat emanating.
I’m drenched with anticipation and so aroused I don’t think I could stop even if I wanted to. Anthony licks his lips, the only move he’s made, and he watches as I lift my leg to the edge of the tub using the leverage to slide two fingers into my channel, moving them rhythmically with my hips. This is Anthony’s cock in my center, ravaging me, claiming me. He moves faster in me. I throw my head back and shudder, screaming as I do, a guttural cry, ‘YES!”
CHAPTER NINE
ANTHONY
Katie could run.
I consistently scored in the top ten percent of agents’ fitness at the FBI, but when she took off, she was gone; I couldn’t match her pace. Although it could be that her lightly agitating tight ass distracted me as she ran. I could still feel her body pressed to mine, and the adrenaline spike I got chasing her, combined with that ass, threw gasoline on the fire in my pants. I was instantly hard. Katie increased her lead as she approached the house, and I doubled down, determined to catch up.
She disappeared a good minute ahead of me, and as I entered, it was on my lips to demand a rematch as soon as my oxygen-deprived lungs recovered. Instead, I rooted in place, panting, and watched as Katie teased out her orgasm, the flashes of intensity playing across her face. When our eyes met, there was no trace of shyness; she was proud of what she was doing to me. It was the most erotic experience.
Little beads of sweat ran down her neck and over her breasts, clinging to the edge of her nipples, daring me to suck them dry. Her perfect breasts with cute taut nubs were so turned on if I threw her up against the wall she might punch holes through the drywall. Her long toned legs connected to her firm rear. And her pussy, when her leg came up, giving me a front-row seat, I about dropped to my knees and came then and there. I watched her fingers sliding home and throbbed hard with every finger thrust, my hips bucking in time with hers. When her orgasm hit, it was like a bell for me.
My turn.
I waste no time bursting through the bathroom door, grabbing her face and sinking my lips into a fiery kiss that does nothing to alleviate the growing pressure on my cock. She tastes like cherries and sunshine. A low growl rumbles in the air, I think it came from me, but I’m so lost I don’t know where she ends and I begin. I just know I have to have her. I feel my belt loosening and my pants dropping to the ground, her hand reaching under my boxer briefs to grip my cock. I jerk at her touch but retaliate by slipping my fingers into her channel. This time the moan I hear is from Katie. Her handjob has me free climbing to the summit, and I finger fuck her until she cries out my name, and my hand fills with her essence. I fumble for a condom from my wallet, which is tangled in a mess on the floor.
The delay has us both groaning in protest, but then I’m sheathed and capture her lips in a searing kiss before spinning her around. I lean her over the sink and position my cock at her entrance, forcing her legs further apart. Applying just the tiniest amount of pressure, I circle her pussy, teasing. Her moan is almost a growl. “Are you sure?” I ask.
“YES!” She screams and I drive into her full tilt. I feel her all around me, stretching to accommodate, enveloping, welcoming me. I start to move inside her, building the intensity, pushing deeper with each thrust. Katie already came twice, once as I watched and then under my fingers’ tutelage, it’s unfair of me, but I want us to come together. Katie is moving on my cock, and I see stars as I stiffen, her tight pussy embracing me. We find a rhythm and I’m nearly there, holding back, hoping she’ll be with me at the end. “Come for me, Katie!” I plead.
I can feel her tightening, pulsing. “Oh, Hell, Yes! Oh, God! I’m coming!” I continue to pump through her shudders and release as a fierce growl roars from me. My head falls forward, resting on her back, spent. I slowly pull out and fall back to the wall, sinking to rest on the floor. Katie repositions herself to sit beside me.
“Thank. Fuck.” Katie sighs, her head coming to rest on my shoulder.
I chuckle. “That’s my line.”
“Not today. Too slow.”
I concede to her logic and start to process what happened as my pulse and sanity return to normal.
That was a stupid thing to do.
Yeah. Probably. But I can’t take it back and frankly; I wouldn’t want to. That was by far the best sex I ever had. There’s no way I’d voluntarily return her gift.
I realize that as we sat there in bliss, the shower is still running and steaming up the room. If we didn’t get off the floor and clean up now, it might be hours before we have enough hot water again. Katie agrees with my assessment, and we stumbled into the shower together, suggesting we needed to conserve the remaining warm water. Who was I to protest?
After our shower, during which I had to have her again, we threw on comfy clothes and made dinner. There was an ease between us that hasn’t existed before, the sexual tension abated, at least for the moment, leaving a burgeoning friendship. Katie’s cooking skills, she admitted, were limited. She knew her way around a crockpot pretty well and had thrown together a decent chicken stew. Her only
other talent was pasta, which I had sampled our first evening together in DC. She scared me with her wild chopping style and I regulated her to a small paring knife to hopefully mitigate any damage. We talked and laughed about many things. I told her some of my experiences in the military, joining special operations, getting selected for Delta Teams, and making life-long friends when tromping through the desert.
Katie told me about getting her first staff job and the little projects she was handed when she first started and the documentary she was currently working on. It was the largest project she’d been given as well as a cause she could get behind.
We’d finished dinner and munched on some grapes for dessert, enjoying the balmy evening air swirling around the deck.
“Why did you shave off your beard?”
I turned to look at Katie while taking a sip of my wine. “How did you know I had a beard?”
She smiled, “the lower half of your face is less tan, it’s only seen the sun for the last week or so at most.”
“Incredibly observant of you. Perhaps you should come work for the FBI.” I chuckled, my eyes looking more discerning at her as she shrugged and sipped her wine.
“I grew the beard for an assignment; once the assignment was over, so was the beard.”
KATIE
Sigh.
I picture Anthony with a full beard, trimmed short, making him darker, more intense, the scruff rough on my skin, creating a trail of where he'd drag his chin and his lips along my body.
I shivered, yes, please. Bring on the beard.
I almost asked him if he'd consider growing one again. If he liked it, but I held my tongue. Even if he did, I wouldn't be around to see it.
I need a cattle prod. One with an auto function to zap me whenever I allow myself to believe this thing with Anthony and I will last longer than a few days.
Beyond this crazy and scary situation that has thrown us together, I'm a pragmatic woman. I recognize lust and I'm okay with scratching the itch. The few boyfriends I've had over the years were mistakes. Mistakes because while the sex was excellent and provided the dopamine release that kept me sane, happy, and motivated, I wasn't looking for more than that. At least not from the men I'd chosen for the horizontal mambo. I needed to focus on my career. I wasn't looking to get married in the near future and certainty not considering kids anytime soon, if ever. Any relationship seemed pointless. I didn't have time for long walks on the beach, sipping wine by the fire, meeting the parents, vacationing with other couples. Belch.
The mistakes were the ones I hadn't been clear with from the get-go. They played the boyfriend part perfectly, bringing flowers and texting with love notes, wanting to snuggle after, and they expected me to reciprocate. Just untangling that misconception took time away from where I wanted to be—research to conduct, interviews to arrange. So after a couple of misfires, I made sure to lay it out early on—just sex. Call it friends with benefits if it was easier, but we didn't hang out. We didn't go to the bar in groups. We didn't text each other throughout the day with love anecdotes.
After dinner, sitting on the deck with Anthony, listening to the cricket's singing and the stream humming, it was the perfect time to have this conversation. It should be an easy one; let's enjoy sex while we're here, shake hands when the crisis is over and go our separate ways. I'm sure we broke a rule or two with the FBI; we walk away as friends. No harm. No foul.
So why couldn't I broach the topic? I'd had several opportunities, but then I look across the table and catch his profile in the light, the strong jawline leading down his neck to the broad shoulders I could still feel burned into my fingers. I remember desperately clawing at him. I wanted to rip his shirt off and see if I left my mark. If not, I was eager to rectify that error.
If it wasn't his shoulders, it was the way he ran his hand along my arm when he got up to refill our drinks or returned and sat the ice-cool beverage in front of me, his fingers lingering, toying at the back of my neck, twirling around my hair, giving it a soft tug that rippled down my spine, hitting my core like a pinball machine.
The shoulders were only half of it. I tried not to stare at his lower region, thankfully the table hid him most of the evening, but I knew what was down there and my photographic memory wasn't filing that away anytime soon. But what slew me was the cool chemical fire smoldering in his eyes.
Rare elements burn green and burn hot at odds with their cool emerald tone. The melting point of these chemicals doubled that of a general wood bonfire. Anthony's relaxed demeanor belied the elemental heat emanating from his lidded gaze and pulsed through me. I couldn't ignore it, this pull. Magnetic in origin, Anthony and I together, felt like we were creating a new compound, fusing in the heat, forming something strong and potent and remarkable. After only a few days this bond seemed unbreakable.
I blame that atomic excitation for messing with my chemical makeup, shifting my focus, contemplating life with this man as more important than anything else. If I kept this up, I'd start doodling his name on my binder or worse, practicing what my married name would be—Katie Reece, Katie Corcoran-Reece, either sounded divine.
SHIT! Maybe they keep a cattle prod in the barn.
I shot up from my seat, determined to find something to jolt me back to reality. To curb the wanting, combat the high I was on. Was there a methadone equivalent for lust?
I pounded down the deck steps and strode to the barn, flinging open the doors and walking straight to the center of the room before realizing how quickly the light from outside faded away. I needed to find a light switch and spun around only to slam into Anthony's chest.
"What's wrong?" His hands clasped behind him, his feet chest-width apart, casual yet ready, concerned yet confident, and blocking my path back to the light. I'd grabbed his biceps when I stumbled into him and never let go. Our bodies were inches apart, which did nothing to soothe the bother in my belly. Hot and bothered I was. But as much as I wanted to close the distance and sink into him, let him alleviate my angst, I was angry with myself for the weakness.
I pushed away from him and stepped back. "Nothing's wrong."
"Okay." He didn't move or even so much as nod. Shadowed in the backlit silhouette, I couldn't read his eyes. But I could tell, even in the outline of him, that he knew I lied. "You regret what we did?"
I wanted to tell him no. How could I regret something so primal so pure? He'd touched my soul and probably ruined sex for any other man after him. But that was too telling. I didn't want him to think I was trying to tie myself to him beyond this farm, nor did I like my thoughts of what we could be beyond this farm. I wanted to go back to when I believed I could get my fix from him, like I'd done with others in the past, then walk away. Only I couldn't turn back the clock and I didn't know how to shut down what he'd started in me.
"I don't know."
It was the most honest I could be without sounding a bit psycho. Plus I hadn't decided if it was the best or worst decision I'd made. I usually called Annie for tough love. She had a way of telling me straight, coming from a place of love, so as much as I wanted to hate her for calling me a dolt, she provided the come to Jesus moment I needed. But I couldn't reach out to her, at least not immediately. Alternatively, I needed space. Maybe that would help return my sanity. Put some doors and walls between us, so I wouldn't be tempted every minute. Resist the craving, the temptation that burned in me even now, wanting to know if it would only get better.
That was a stupid question. Of course it would get better.
We'd been rushed, desperate earlier. Satiated temporarily by the release, but the next time didn't have to be like that. There would be time. Get-to-know-you time and I wanted to know Anthony, every inch of him, inside and out. My body hummed as I perused the hard outline of his body, so still, he could be a marble statue warmed by the sun, and I wanted to reach out, run my fingers over the smooth, taut finish, wondering where I'd start my research.
This wouldn't do at all. It hadn't been a mistake to sleep w
ith Anthony. I wouldn't tarnish the memory, but it had to stop there. I didn't want a relationship. I couldn't do relationships. I needed space.
"If you don't know, then why does it seem like you want to lick me up right now?" His voice was even and cut through my narrative breakdown like an icicle smashing the ground.
"I-I don't know what you mean." I stammered.
He took a step toward me, his shoulders dipping in his gait. "Why are you acting coy, Katie? You've spoken your mind so clearly thus far, what's got you spooked?"
"I'm not spooked!" I shot back as he took another step forward.
"Yeah, you are." He chuckled. "I kinda like you off-balance, I just wish I understood what caused it. Maybe I could keep it in my back pocket for future use."
I wasn't going to cower after a comment like that. Even as he advanced closer, his hands still behind his back, I couldn't decide if Anthony's face in the shadows made me want to run away, to scream at him, or jump his bones.
Jeez! I was a lost cause.
Only when we were chest to chest, his feet straddling my body, and I could feel his hips grinding against me, did he stop advancing. I had to lean slightly backward to alleviate the pressure of having my breasts pressing firming into his chest, my taut nipples so sensitive I swallowed down a moan when they first made contact.
This was a test of resolve. Whose was stronger? But I refused to back down first. My breath hitched as the wind floated his woodsy scent into my nose, and my pulse picked up, but we didn't move. Our bodies fused. I might have thought him unaffected by our proximity if it wasn't for the rapid pounding on my thigh, where his femoral artery was desperately trying to keep up. At least I knew we could both fight dirty.
I expected him to force the issue, run his fingers around my throat, gripping my hair, tipping my chin up to receive his kiss. As much as my troubled mind was screaming to get away, that my brain needed time and space, I also reminded myself if I drew the line with Anthony, he'd keep his distance. This moment, this time might be our last, and I wanted it. I wanted him just once more before I locked it away in my memory banks to cherish for years to come.
