Blaze Ch. 02

"That's because land-shark is a bad boy," she scolded, shaking her finger at him. "No more bum-bum, bum-bum for you, land-shark."

"Can land-shark bum-bum later?" he asked, ever so slowly backing her into the counter.

Holly felt behind her. She was trapped. "We'll have to see if you can be a good land-shark," she said tentatively.

He reached out for her sash and effortlessly untied it. "Land-shark never been very good at being good," he said in a thick voice, pushing open her robe. "Maybe you could teach land-shark how to be good...like you."

As his hands swept over her breasts, she closed her eyes, sighing at the delicious sensation. His hands were big, warm, and somewhat calloused, and when he enveloped her breasts, they all but disappeared under his fingers. Suddenly, unexpectedly, he embraced her, drawing her hard against him to hold her. It was the hug of a friend. She laid her head against his chest and closed her eyes, giving him back the gentleness and warmth. This was something she understood.

When he stepped back from her, he looked searchingly into her eyes. "Holly, your friendship means so much to me," he said. "I'm really good at fucking up my relationships. I don't want to do that with you."

"I know that you're complicated, David," she said evenly. "Look, don't worry about it. I get the whole friends-with-benefits thing. I'm not going to go all crazy on you and move in or something equivalent to that. I like being with you. You're an incredible lover. Let's just leave it at that."

If possible, his gaze warmed even more on her face. "You're amazing," he said quietly, sincerely, and gave her a quick hug before setting off to make dinner.

He was a hungry man. Holly watched him devour a steak and potato while mostly playing with her salad. She ate a bit of the delicious t-bone herself, only because she needed the protein. But in all honesty, she wasn't terribly hungry. Sex did that to her.

As she started to clear the dishes, David kept her from standing up. He turned her in her chair and pulled one of her feet into his lap. Very slowly he massaged the sole of her foot. She watched him, her eyes growing hungry for his body. He looked magnificent sitting there in his white bathrobe, all dark and brooding, with a day's growth shadowing his hollow cheeks. When he was done with the first foot he got the second.

"Let me have yours," she said.

He shook his head. "No. I'm ticklish."

"I won't tickle you. I'll just touch the pressure points."

She knew a smattering of shiatsu techniques.

"Let's go in the bedroom," he said.

They left the dishes on the table and retreated to the bedroom. As Holly moved to the bed, she was delighted to see him lighting some large candles on giant brass holders in the corner of the big room. His bedroom was becoming familiar. The king-sized bed was made of mahogany and included a wooden canopy with a starburst design carved into the rich wood. The only other piece of furniture was an armoire. No mirrors. No froo-froo. Four king-sized pillows were piled against the hard headboard. With the candles flickering in the corner, they could have been in some medieval Spanish castle.

With the press of a few buttons on a wall panel, soft guitar music floated from hidden speakers. David moved to the bed and tossed two of the pillows to the foot of the bed. He lay down and Holly followed suit from the other direction. She took his foot in her hand and gently applied pressure against the sole. She could feel his uneasiness; someone in the past must have tickled him in a way he hadn't liked. She was painstakingly careful not to let her fingertips sweep over his flesh. Trust was so important. With each minute that went by, she could sense he was relaxing.

Until now he hadn't touched her feet, his attention being on her and his own disquiet. Now, knowing he could trust her, he settled back against the pillows and drew her foot into his big hands. Holly concentrated on her own task, even while she could feel a sense of calm sweep over her. The simple art of touch was so beneficial to the mind and body, yet as a single person she very rarely gave or received it. Sure, she could pay someone to do this, but it wasn't the same.

He was done with her second foot long before she was with his. Putting his arm behind his head, he watched her, his other hand absently stroking her ankle. His eyes were smoldering, his facial muscles stiff with longing. Gazing back at him, she noticed that he was breathing hard. Her eyes fell, and she saw the thick outline under his robe. Holly went back to her task, but between her legs, the yearning for him stirred.

He continued watching her, but behind his stillness she sensed a storm brewing. He was waiting for the moment when she put his foot aside. Knowing what was coming, Holly deliberately slowed down. She pressed her thumbs into his heels and looked into his eyes. His lids were growing heavy with desire. The craving in her groin made it hard for her to breath. His lips parted. Unable to attend to her task any longer, she let her hands fall away.

David stood up and untied his sash. She watched the robe fall away from his body. Candlelight flickered over his chiseled form. He moved towards her with the grace of a cat, his fingers trailing up her leg. He set a knee on the edge of the bed and, untying her sash for a second time that night, leaned in to kiss her. Holly enthusiastically responded, opening to him with all the fervor that she felt within. He groaned into her mouth, deepening the kiss. She gladly answered him, resting her fingers lightly against the back of his neck. A heavy breath escaped him and he had to move back for a moment. He looked down at her, mouth gaping as he struggled with his own breathing. Her hands had settled on his shoulders and she caressed his skin with the backs of her fingers. He turned his face into one of her palms, kissing the hollow.

"Holly," he whispered.

Suddenly he stood up and, to her bewilderment, disappeared into the bathroom. A moment later he emerged unrolling a condom onto his thick shaft. He moved to her side and deftly removed the robe from under her. Fluffing the pillows behind her head, he gave her a final kiss before crawling between her legs, his big form shadowing her small-boned one. Holly looked up at him and watched his face as he guided his penis into her vagina. Feeling the tightness of her, his eyelids lifted and he frowned.

"Holly, are you a virgin?" he asked.

"No. It's just been a while."

His hips thrust forward and he gasped despite himself. Then he released a long, luxurious moan.

"Oh God, that feels so fucking good," he drawled, just resting there, halfway into her. He laid his forehead down on hers and breathed so heavily she thought he was coming. But he wasn't. He was enjoying her. He was stretching out each and every lovely sensation, experiencing every tantalizing pulse and throb as though it were a distinct and unique act unto itself.

With another groan he pushed deeper. He moved slowly in and out of her, watching her face. She gazed up at him, a knowing look passing between them. It was a good fit.

His lips twitched as he fucked her. The pleasure of it was intense. Every now and then she moved to meet his thrust, but for the most part her hips just barely lifted. It was her breathing that gave her away. She couldn't control the breath coming up and over the back of her tongue in quick bursts of pleasure. Her eyes closed, and her head rocked back and forth on the pillow in rhythm with her hips. He watched her, watched her breasts rising and falling, the blush on her skin deepening. Her hands on his forearms kneaded his flesh; he was grateful for her short nails.

He closed his eyes, loving the way she felt under him. She was small-boned for someone so tall, even delicate. Everything about her was refined and gentle, soft and yielding. There was something wild and exotic about her, too, but at the same time ancient and classical, as though she belonged to another epoch. He loved the way her dark eyes looked in her white face, how her dark hair had dried into an unruly, curly mane.

"David," she whispered.

He opened his eyes to look at her.

"David, it feels so good."

"Yeah," he agreed.

Her hands tightened on his forearms. "No, I mean really good."

His lips curled back. "Oh, yeah, Holly, come for me."

"David!"

"God, you look so fucking beautiful."

"David! Oh God, it's fucking ecstasy!"

"Yeah, baby. Come on, come for me. Come for me."

Suddenly her eyes opened and her face contorted. As her hips bucked against him, her cheeks grew crimson. She yelled out incoherently and climaxed, grinding her crotch into his with a ferocity that took his breath away. He came abruptly, spurred more by the sight of her than anything else. She was still coming under him, her vagina spasming around his cock as he ejaculated, and he gasped unevenly, groaning loudly as the last of the semen was milked from him. His cock still throbbed inside of her.

"David! David!" She was still coming, still thrusting against him, still crying out.

He lay against her, feeling it, experiencing it, watching her, listening. Finally, he had to pull out of her, and he laid his hand against her pussy, letting her ride it as long as she wanted. Another full minute went by before she stopped.

"Oh wow," he murmured at last, shaking his head at her. "Holly, that was really...really excellent."

Holly sighed luxuriously. She felt reborn. Recreated.

David rolled off of her and disappeared into the bathroom. Her vagina still throbbed with the afterglow of the orgasm. Or orgasms. Whatever. All those technicalities didn't mean much when it was happening. She rolled over onto her side and buried her face in a pillow. The sleep that had eluded her for so long suddenly found her.

She awoke sometime in the depth of night. David was beside her, facing her, and she had to creep from under the sheet to keep from waking him. His drapes were open and moonlight filtered in through the windows, spilling onto the wood floor and showing her the way to the bathroom. She flicked on the light and squinted painfully before her eyes could adjust. Looking into the mirror, she was surprised that she looked the same. She would have thought the experience had transformed her in some way.

She used the toilet and washed her hands, then bent over to drink out of the tap. As she stood back up, she glanced at her wristwatch. It was a quarter past three in the morning. She had slept almost six hours and she felt as though she could sleep another six. Silently she walked back to the bed.

Not until she settled down next to him did she realize he was awake. He looked straight at her and smiled.

"You were sleepy," he remarked.

She nodded. "Yes. I've had trouble falling asleep lately."

"Better now?"

"Uh-huh."

"I have to go to work at five. The alarm will be going off soon. I usually swim for about half an hour before breakfast. You're welcome to stay. I don't really want you driving home in the dark."

"Okay," she said readily. His pillows were incredibly soft under her head.

He watched her go back to sleep and turned off the alarm so that it wouldn't wake her. Then he got out of bed and stepped into his Speedos. Opening the French doors off of his bedroom, he walked outside to the swimming pool and stood for a moment in the moonlight, warming his muscles. As he did so, he noticed the somewhat odd configuration of the lounge chair and the other chair from the dining set. The memory of what he had done the evening before, with Holly sketching him, came back like a flashflood. He could feel her dark eyes sweeping over his skin like caressing fingers. Watching her watching him...he wanted it now, again. He wanted to feel her eyes on him, watching him touch himself.

Glancing behind him, he was somewhat surprised to not see her standing in the open doors. The desire to go back to her was strong. He thought about it for a few moments, and then dove into the pool. Even as he plied his way across the water, he knew he would hold back from Holly on purpose. It was in his nature. It was why no one could get close to him.

After the swim he showered and dressed. She still slept soundly in his bed, and he marveled at how small and peaceful she looked. He made breakfast and sat on the patio eating; it was that hour when the sky was the darkest: just before the dawn. Having no idea what time she needed to leave for work, he reset the alarm for six and put a spare key to the front door next to her purse. Then, making sure the house was secure, he left for work.

Holly awoke to the shrill noise next to her head. Groggily she turned the awful thing off and flopped her head back into the pillow. No, she did not want to get up. The smell of coffee nudged her and she lifted her head. Hmmm. That smelled fresh. But hadn't he said he was leaving for work at five?

Curiosity got the better of her and she sat up to find her clothes waiting for her at the foot of the bed. She dressed quickly, then went into the kitchen to find the coffee maker brewing a fresh pot. Well, she reflected wryly,thatwas enough to win her heart. Her purse was there on the counter as well, with a spare key to the house beside it. He'd written a short note as well.

"Take the key with you. Surprises on the way. David."

Surprises on the way? What wasthatsupposed to mean?

She drank a cup of coffee on the patio, imagining him doing the same hours earlier. He'd moved the chair she'd used the evening before back to its original place. But the lounge chair was still there, and just seeing it sent waves of desire through her. David had said that for him, sex was a way of getting to know a person better. With Sam, sex had been a way to keep him happy; it had never been about personality or revelation. Perhaps that was why sex with David had been so liberating. It hadn't been about him at all, but it hadn't been about her either. It had been about being real. It had been about honesty and acceptance. She hadn't had to perform for him. He had just let her be and she'd enjoyed the most mind-blowing sex of her life.

Driving to work after going home to dress, she felt resentful having to go back to her routine life. What she really wanted to do was work on the book David had written. Ideas swirled in her head she hadn't thought of before. She wondered if, perhaps, she might be able to find time in her day to make a few preliminary sketches from the photos she'd taken. The urge to draw a big red fire engine, complete with a couple of chisel-faced hunks in yellow, was strong.

Considering the image floating around in her head, the sight that greeted her as she pulled into the parking lot of the community college was surreal. Several fire engines stood at one end of the parking lot while students meandered about, talking to the firefighters. Having a few minutes to spare before her first class, Holly walked over to the scene, looking about for David. Despite her sunglasses, the glare from the bright morning made it hard to discern faces. Then she walked around a corner to find him talking to a young man she knew. When he saw her, David broke off the conversation and put out his hand to her.

"Here you are," he said. As she stepped to his side, she was a bit overwhelmed to feel his arm circle about his waist and draw her against him. She lifted her face to his and he bent to kiss her. It was more than just a peck.

"Is this the surprise you mentioned?" she asked coyly, looking up into his dark eyes.

"I don't know. Are you surprised?"

"Yes."

"Well, then. We have recruiting here every couple of months. Or hadn't you ever noticed?" he asked, still holding her.

"I noticed," she allowed. "Although this time I'm noticing more."

Her student, Byron, was standing there watching them with a nonplussed expression. Holly smiled at him.

"Sorry, Byron," she said, stepping an inch away from David. "This heat is getting to my head. I need to go inside to the air conditioning."

David still held her. "Just remember to keep lunch open for me. I'll be here all day."

"Let me know when you're coming and I'll call ahead for a delivery. I know this great restaurant around the corner."

He kissed her again and let her go. As she walked back towards the main building, her ass wiggled a little more than usual under her denim skirt. She was feeling pretty sassy right now, knowing his gaze was on her butt. The temptation to turn around was so strong she couldn't resist it. She glanced over her shoulder to see him watching her, his arms crossed over his chest. He shook his head at her and laughed, white teeth making his face look darker. She waved at him and turned back around to continue on her way. For the first time in a long time she went into work with a massive smile on her face.

Usually she was the consummate teacher, so wrapped up in art that her students sometimes complained she took it too seriously. Not today. Today they found her sitting at her desk looking dreamy-eyed at whatever she was sketching. Now and again she broke from her daze to glance about her as though noticing anew where she was. Then her head would go back down and she would continue sketching the fire engine with its shiny chrome glinting in the sun.

Byron Ludgnet, the student she had seen talking to David earlier, came in at ten-thirty for a pottery class. He was a few minutes early, and as she prepared the equipment for the class, she was aware of his sideways glances. A sensation stirred within her, an uneasiness that made her stop to think. She glanced his way. Although he was still in his second year at the community college, she knew he was already in his early twenties. He was of Dutch ancestry, tall, slender, and cute, with short strawberry blonde hair spiked in the middle and blue-green eyes. He had the kind of complexion that was always a bit ruddy, and when he was embarrassed his face grew bright red. At the moment he looked positively neon.

"Do you know David well?" she asked casually, going back to her work.

"Pretty well," Byron said, looking pained.

Holly nodded. "I've known him since high school. He's a great guy."

"Are the two of you dating?"

"Dating? I wouldn't put it quite that way."

He still stared at her, trying to gauge how safe it was to proceed in the conversation, if at all. Holly continued going about her work. She would have liked to eased the young man's discomfort and confusion, but she wasn't about to reveal any personal details about her relationship with David.

Byron was not in his best form that morning. She knew he was upset, but whether it was jealousy or something else she couldn't tell. It was easy to imagine him in love with David. But then, as Holly frequently reminded herself, David was easy to love.

At eleven-thirty David called to tell her he would be around to her room at noon. They talked for a bit about what he wanted to eat and she called in to her older brother's restaurant for two Greek salads. Given that she was the owner's sister, she always received her delivery promptly, usually with something extra for good measure. This time it was baklava.

David walked into the room just as the delivery girl, as well as the students, were leaving. He spotted Byron and gave him a casual high five. Then he pulled up a chair to the table where Holly had spread their lunch.

He smelled good, like sunshine, fresh air, and sweat. His skin was damp with perspiration. She looked him up and down, an appreciative smile on her lips. But he was too hungry to notice her gaze and delved enthusiastically into the food, moaning with satisfaction.

"Man, this is great stuff," he said. "I love Konstantine's."