by Scott Wylder
Gently, I kissed her forehead and she stirred awake, stretching like a cat, wrapping her arms around my neck, pulling me down for a proper kiss.
As much as it pained me, I had to get up and get ready to go open the bar. I was on duty until closing time again—as I’d made sure I was most nights; now I was beginning to rethink that situation. That would keep me from Katrina almost every night until two or three in the morning.
I asked her to stay over again, but she refused, and I began to feel panicky. That’s when my stupid pride kicked in and I began to get angry. She said she just needed to get her head right; that a lot had happened in the past few months and she hadn’t taken time to properly deal with all of it.
To me, it sounded like the world’s lousiest brush-off. Heat rushed to my face and my ears burned with it. Had she not experienced the same things I had when we made love? In my perception, she was saying I wasn’t good enough for her.
Going emotionally flat to keep from having an argument, I said, “That’s fine. Just perfect by me. You go do whatever you need to do to get your pretty little head straightened out.” I stepped out the door and tossed a quip over my shoulder that was intended to sting: “Hey, it was good while it lasted, anyway. See you around.”
I took my Chevy down the street harder than necessary, but I was pissed. By the time I reached the bar, I realized I was mostly pissed at my own loss of control. How could I ever let a woman affect me that way? Make me have domestic fantasies? Damn! I was better off that she had decided to go back to her house.
What the hell had I been thinking?
I thought I might be having a mid-life crisis.
Chapter 8
(Katrina)
Sleeping with Seth had changed everything. My world had been turned upside-down and he had flipped it on its side. The afterglow had lasted longer and run deeper than I had thought possible at that time. I couldn’t lose my heart to Seth Kline, bad boy, protector of women; Seth loved his old cars and motorcycles; he loved his bar; he loved his reputation as a bad boy; and he loved women—not someone I could give my heart to without expecting it to be broken sooner or later.
When I left his house, I knew he was upset that I refused to stay, but what else could I do? I couldn’t just up and leave what little bit of my life I had left to be at his beck and call until he tired of my company; or until he decided he’d found the next best thing and I needed to go. No. I simply could not.
We’d shared one wonderful experience and that was enough. At least I would have a super-hot memory of our time together. It was time to move on, though. I kept telling myself that, anyway. Seth would move on; that never seemed to be a problem for him. He wouldn’t be sitting at home watching reruns of old anthology shows from the seventies and eighties, so why should I be doing it?
For three weeks, I avoided town—at least the areas where I thought I might run into Seth. Cabin fever was setting in by the end of that third week, though and I had to get out, really get out, for a while.
Hoping I had gotten the fantasy of Seth out of my head and heart, I dressed to go out to a movie. I didn’t really have any friends I could call up and invite along for company—Curtis had seen to it that I was isolated, under his thumb, answering to his every whim over the last years and I was just coming to understand the full extent of my isolation.
I hoped Curtis rotted in jail—or that I would never see him again, at least. Every day revealed more ways in which he had socially crippled me. My family was distant with me. Curtis hardly ever allowed them at our house, though it was nothing so plainly stated at the time. And, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d just gone to my parents’ house and had a visit with them. There were numbers for my old friends in my contact list, but it had been years since I’d talked to most of them. Hell, I barely ever even ran into any old friends in town anymore.
Everyone had moved on with their lives. Everyone except me, it seemed. People are naturally social animals, needing human contact, acceptance, to be part of a larger group. It’s just how things worked, the natural order, but I was too far out of the loop now. It would take years to form meaningful relationships again.
The Saturday night double feature at the local cinema was two horror films—one was brand new and the other was from the eighties, the decade of the slasher films and really bad special effects. As I drove there, excitement replaced some of the depression I’d been experiencing.
As I stood in line to buy a ticket, I noticed Mary from work a few feet ahead of me. I started to greet her, but she hadn’t noticed me, and at the last minute, I decided against it. She was a middle-aged woman with short, neat grey hair, pretty blue eyes, brimming with intelligence behind those huge horn-rimmed glasses she insisted on wearing. Though she had never said as much, I could always tell from her expressions and body language that she disapproved of Curtis Rake. The worst she’d ever said directly about him was that she thought his last name was fitting; then she had walked away and had never spoken another word about him directly.
She’d had very little to say about the shooting incident—as had everyone else at work. Some of the other nurses tried to avoid me afterward, which only lent to my feeling of being alone in the world. I guess every person feels as if they have enough troubles of their own without inviting the troubles of someone else into their life.
It was a small town, so the ooh and ahh of the situation would dissipate soon enough. Everything dissipated in a small town just as soon as the next bit of juicy news came along to replace it.
Mary spotted me as we entered theater two. Her smile widened instantly, her cheeks scrooching up and causing her glasses to shift up toward her hairline comically. She waved for me to sit with her, and I did. It beat being alone, I guess.
We exchanged pleasantries and asked about each other’s weekend so far. It was as if we were friends, though that word bore too much weight for what we were in reality. We’d never been more than coworkers, in my opinion.
Forty minutes into the second film, Mary begged pardon and apologized, saying that she was going to have to go home before she fell out asleep in the floor.
“My stamina just isn’t what it used to be when I was a young pup like you, dear.” She had left then.
I watched her go out the double doors at the back. Was that how I was destined to end up in life? Not that she was a bad person, but she was alone and sad. She always had a ready smile and a laugh to show the world, or share with the world, but I always noted that sadness lurking just at the edge of her world.
A kindred sadness had been lurking at the edge of my life for a long time. The only time in my recent history that I’d forgotten about it was with Seth. It was as if he’d burned it all away for that day.
By the end of the slasher movie, I was fighting off tears. Though Seth had saved me twice, and although he’d given me the one bright, clear, happy day, he’d also brought me three weeks of gut-wrenching turmoil.
Or, had I brought the latter on myself?
Checking my watch, I saw that Seth should still be at the bar. Midnight was early on a Saturday night there. There was nothing at all stopping me from going in for a nightcap before heading on home.
I needed to see him. Probably a bad idea, but I had to. I couldn’t get him off my mind for the last three weeks, so why not? I had hoped he would at least call me during that time, but I understood that something had happened the day I left; after we’d made love, he’d acted much different than what I’d imagined he would—he seemed clingy, needy, and that’s not how I’d foreseen it in my mind at all.
Perhaps I’d really wounded his feelings. I needed to see him, needed to find out where I stood with him, and this was the perfect opportunity.
Chapter 9
(Seth)
Imagine my surprise when Katrina walked into the bar a little after midnight, looking like a woman from a dream as she glided across the room, weaving her way between patrons and pool tables, making her way straight to the bar.
And me.
I couldn’t take my eyes off her; my mind had been filled with thoughts of her over the last three weeks, and even though I tried to get her off my mind with other women, it never worked out that way. I couldn’t even perform with any of them, no matter what they tried, no matter what I tried. I had held onto the thought that perhaps I was having a mid-life crisis a couple of decades early. It’s not unheard of for men to go through that early and it had seemed plausible.
Until she walked into the bar that Saturday night.
Compared to all the other women I’d ever known, Katrina seemed regal as she headed for me. She stood out from the crowd; she was radiant. Confident enough to come to the bar alone, innocent enough to tug at my heart, and sexy enough to melt it.
The small smile on her face accentuated her full, pouty lips and their need for kissing. I could feel her lips on me again as the memory of our day together came flooding back and my cock instantly stirred to life, though I fought the feeling.
The way her curves pushed at her clothing in all the right places brought back how each of those curves felt under my hands, under my tongue, under me and my blood thundered through my veins as she hoisted herself onto one of the barstools.
Smiling as broadly as I could manage, I said, “Well. Look who decided to come visit. How have you been?” I got her a shot glass—after all, I knew what liquor she preferred—and poured her a shot of Jaegermeister.
Her face broke into a genuine smile and her eyes lit up as she pulled the glass toward her. “I figured if I was ever going to see you again, I’d have to come here. Did you just forget about me, or what?”
“No indeed. You brushed me off that day and I didn’t want you to think I was pressuring you. I’m not Curtis, Katrina. If you don’t want to be around me, I won’t force you to be.”
“I’ve been out of circulation for a while. You know, being tied up with Curtis for so long, I don’t really know how to treat these kinds of things anymore. I just…” She cast her gaze about and then let it settle on my again.
“You just, what, Katrina?” I was clueless at this point about what she wanted, why she’d come into the Big Hat.
Shaking her head, she gave me a forced, nervous smile. “I don’t know. I mean, are we a thing or did we only have a thing?” She pushed her glass across for another shot.
I was gobsmacked. How I answered that question could determine whether I would be happy in the future or miserable as hell. I could grab the opportunity, go for the gold, or I could wuss out and maybe miss out on the best thing that could ever happen to me.
All I had to do was get rid of the knot in my gut and take that one little risk. I floundered for words.
Taking her shot, she tossed money onto the bar, slid off her stool, and said, “It’s all right. You don’t have to say it. If it’s taking that long, I know the answer. It’s okay, really. I just needed to clear it up so I could move on, I guess.” She spun the shot glass across the bar and twiddled her fingers at me in a goodbye gesture.
I couldn’t let her get away again. Bolting toward the side door, I followed her out into the dark alley. “Hey! Wait up. What is it with you and that side door?” I chuckled as I caught up to her.
She shrugged.
She was beautiful even in the dirty light thrown by the ancient sodium-arc lamps at either end of the alley.
“Don’t be upset.” I put my hands on her shoulders, wanting to pull her close.
“I’m not upset, Seth. I understand you don’t want a relationship, I just had to be sure.” She stepped back, out from under my hands.
“You think I don’t want a relationship?”
She nodded.
“Does that mean you do want a relationship?” I stepped closer but didn’t touch her.
Her gaze dropped to the ground and she sighed heavily. “Now, what? You want me to say yes so you can feel all egotistical about it. I’m not one of your little groupies, Seth. Sure we had sex, but where I come from that doesn’t mean we have to get married, big boy.” She snorted and turned to walk away.
“I want you, Katrina.” I called after her retreating form.
She stopped halfway down that dark alley and turned to face me.
I walked to her. “I want you.”
“How do I know you’re not just feeling sorry for me?”
Taking her hand, I put it on the bulging crotch of my jeans. “Does that feel like I’m feeling sorry for you?” God, her hand felt good on me. Even through denim, her touch was different that anyone else’s.
She didn’t move her hand away. The expression in her eyes turned from hard to soft and then to sex-kitten sultry. She squeezed and I moaned. I’d not had satisfaction in three weeks. I was near exploding since she’d walked into the Big Hat.
Grinning, she squeezed again and stepped closer. “No, that doesn’t feel like a sympathy boner at all.”
“You keep squeezing and you’ll end up in trouble right here in the alley.” My breath was hot, my blood was hot. Sweat popped out on my forehead as I fought the urge to start ripping off her clothes.
She kneaded me through my jeans and whispered up to me, “I’m not one of your little groupies. I’m not just a good time lay, Seth.” But she didn’t stop rubbing me.
“I never thought you were, Katrina.” I put my hand over hers and made her stop. “Are we going to finish this or are you going to walk away now? Mixed signals and all that.”
“Was that an invitation or a dare?”
“Let’s step into my office and find out, shall we?” I led her back through the small crowd and into my office.
With the door shut and locked, I began undressing. Standing in my underwear, I realized she had not undressed. “Are you changing your mind?”
“No, I was waiting for you to finish so you could undress me. I like to look at you naked.” She bit her lip sexily and covered the distance between us in three steps.
Reaching for her shirt, I was nearly panting with need.
“Not yet. Take those off. Let me see you.” She cupped her own breast through the shirt and squeezed as she ran her tongue over her gorgeous lips, never taking her eyes off my crotch.
My cock throbbed as I pushed my underwear down and stepped out of them. The air in the room was cool and sleek against my erection. Never had a woman asked me to be on display for her. This was more intoxicating than any of my liquors.
She reached for my shaft and I didn’t move.
Chapter 10
(Katrina)
Seth’s excitement tore me up. I couldn’t keep my hands off him. He was so damn hard and so damn gorgeous. I wanted him inside me, on top of me, taking control of me. But first, I wanted to taste him all over, as he’d done to me before.
Gently squeezing, teasing, and stroking as I nibbled and flicked my tongue over his hot, taut skin, Seth moaned and tensed and flexed as I teased. His erection throbbed as I let my breath fall over it. Finally, I thought he’d had all he could stand, and I slid down onto my knees in front of him. He barely fit in my mouth and as I flicked my tongue over his glans, his cock swelled even more. I could feel the blood pumping through the veins on his shaft as I worked at him slowly.
Moaning loudly, he bent and grabbed at my shirt, hauling me roughly up to my feet. He yanked my shirt off and flung it away from us. My bra followed and then he was roughly tugging at my jeans until they were down around my ankles. I squealed with every tug. It was exciting, and I was ready for fulfillment. He tugged off my right shoe and threw it across the room. Then he yanked my jeans over that foot, freeing it so he could press my legs wide apart.
He growled, “Bend over the desk. I can’t take it anymore; I have to fucking be in you now.”
I turned and leaned over the papers strewn on his desk. Suddenly, his tongue was working at my cunt and then my ass. I barely held in the scream of pure ecstasy. Seth stood behind me and pressed his cock against my ass cheek, grabbed a handful of my hair, slapped my ass hard enough to elicit a sque
al from me, and used his free hand to caress and squeeze my tits until my nipples ached.
“You’re so fucking wet, Katrina. What do you want now? Tell me what you want.” He pressed his cockhead against my exposed pussy and I tried to push back onto it.
I wanted him inside me. “I want you, Seth.”
“Not specific enough; tell me what you want. This?” He pressed his cock against my ass.
Nodding, pulling against his hold on my hair, I said, “Yes. I want that. Please.”
“Oh, I like the please part, but I’m afraid you’re going to have to tell me in great dirty detail what you want.” He reached around and worked at my clit until I had a quaking, nearly-screaming orgasm that left me without legs to support my weight.
Panting, I told him.
Chapter 11
(Seth)
So I took the risk. We spent two hours cloistered in my office that night. We could barely walk when it was time to leave. I found out that Katrina was a sex-kitten with a mouth like a harlot. I’d had no idea she had loved sex every bit as much as I did. She was insatiable over the next few weeks and often I’d call out from work, so I could be home when she finished her shift at the hospital.
We have been steady for six months now and I can honestly say that putting my life on the line to protect her from crazy Curtis is the best thing I ever did.
Chapter 12
(Katrina)
Six months after that first night of sex in Seth’s office, we’re still an item. And, we’ve been overcome with lust several more times while at the bar. At the bar, in his car, in the living room, kitchen, and even once in the dead of night on my porch. We can’t seem to get enough of each other.
