4

That evening, as the sun began dipping toward the horizon, I sat huddled in the middle of the floor of my living room, memories filling my mind…

~December 24th 2009-six years earlier~

When I'd finally managed to fall asleep, it had been late. My head, it seemed, had only just hit the pillow, before a pounding on the front door startled me awake. Rolling off the bed, I hit the floor on my knees with a yelp before I managed to scramble to my feet. Using an arm to swipe at the hank of hair hanging in my face, I glanced through blurry eyes at the clock on my bedside table. What the fuck? It wasn't even quite six in the morning yet, and some jackass was trying to beat the damn door down.

Stumbling my way out of my bedroom and down the stairwell, I grumbled none too quietly that whoever the motherfucker was, they had better have a damn good reason for waking me up at the ass-crack of dawn.

Finally, having woven my way across the floor of the entrance hall like a drunk, I came to a stop before the front door, snarling, "Someone had damn well better be dying on the other side of this freaking door!"

Peering through the peephole, I got a close-up view of a Dunkin Donuts bag. A bag that was being held up for my inspection, at the same time concealing its bearer's face. However, it revealed the broad breadth of a sexy as hell shoulder and arm—one that bore Nathan’s full sleeve tattoo down its length.

O-kaay; so it was possible I could overlook that the sun hadn't even come up yet for donuts and for…him. Cracking the door open enough to fit my arm through, I reached out and with an impish grin, snatched the bag from the hand of the unsuspecting God who stood on my stoop.

Slamming the door back shut, my face transformed into something similar to the creature from J. R. R. Tolkien's book The Lord Of The Rings* as I whispered the hobbit's well-known catchphrase, and gazed in rapt adoration at the bag in my hand.

However, my lusting after the contents of the bag was put on hold when from the other side of the door, I heard Nathan state, "Uh...yeah. So, I take it you don't want your coffee then?"

Hmm... I guess I was a bit hasty in slamming the door in his face. I did so love the chain store's coffee, almost as much as their donuts!

I stood debating reopening the door, but smelling the rich yeasty aroma of the donuts as their scent wafted upward, I knew the only thing which could make the moment of biting into one of the sweetened goodies any better, would be to have the coffee Nathan claimed he possessed.

After a few seconds of torturing myself with the delicious aroma in the surrounding air, I reopened the door and stretched out my arm, holding my palm up for the coffee.

Nathan pushed the door further open. Stepping past me into the entrance hall, he shook his head murmuring, "Uh-uh. You don't get the coffee until I get a doughnut.”

Seconds later, I sat a saucer down in front of him before making my way to the opposite side of the table. Taking a seat myself, I grabbed the bag I'd set in the middle of the table earlier and dug into its contents.

Mouth, watering, I sunk my teeth into the glazed confection and closed my eyes. A long, low, heartfelt groan of pure ecstasy slipped out of my mouth, as with slow sensuous swipes, I licked the glazed icing off my lips in sheer rapture.

The strained clearing of a throat and a hissed, "Fuuuck!" had my eyes popping open. A flush of heat consumed me when my gaze landed on the superb outline of Nathan's erection, as having shoved his chair back; he now stood before me, the unobstructed view of the swelling beneath his zipper on full display.

Grabbing his doughnut and coffee, he turned on his heel and stomped from the room. Within seconds, I heard the front door slam shut behind him.

~~

Striding through what had been at one time been a pasture before it was transformed into part of the yard, I could feel the cold ground seeping into the soles of my bare feet, but didn't let it slow me down as I followed Nathan.

Entering the barn's interior, the smell of many years worth of automotive oil changes and mechanical repairs hit me in the face. As well, the aroma of hay and the odor of horses.

I gave a small jump when Nathan snarled, “Why the fuck didn’t you stay in the house, Marlowe?” as he stepped out of the shadows.

Startled, I took a step back and soon a sort of harmonized dance began between us. With each step he took forward, I countered it with one step back.

Finally, I stuttered out in confusion, “Um...I'm not quite sure of what you're asking?” Embarrassment flushing through me that I’d chased him out to the barn like a horny teenager.

Continuing to advance toward me, Nathan husked, “Yeah, I'm pretty certain you do. In fact, I'm pretty certain you know exactly what I'm asking!”

On the heels of that statement came, “As much as I would enjoy the hell out of having my dick buried in you, it would be in both our best interests to keep that delicious morsel between your legs away from me!”

My cheeks almost neon pink, the words, “Excuse me?” erupted from between my lips.

With a snort, Nathan backed me up against the wall of the barn husking, “Tell me I'm wrong! Tell me you're not wet for me. Right—the—fuck—now!”

Shaking my head, I opened my mouth to deny his words; instead, I found myself whispering, “I can't.”

Lowering his face to my neck, Nathan inhaled, and I found myself breathing, “Did you just smell me?”

Voice a deep, gravelly rasp, he husked, “Jesus, I want to fuck you so bad right now, I can't stand it!” 

Slowly, he turned his face toward mine, his lips whispering across my own as he breathed, “It’s killing me knowing that pussy of yours is dripping wet for me!”

After a few seconds, he pulled away, murmuring, “Yet, even with knowing that, it's not gonna happen. So, you can stop looking at me like you wanna screw my brains out.”

Shaking my head, I stepped back into him and breathed, “Why should I, if it’s the truth?”