A Home for Three

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A widower's ghost plays matchmaker.
5.4k words
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All characters are over eighteen years of age.

***

Sarah sat on her bed- sort of her bed, anyway- and looked around.

It was a nice room, she supposed. Not nearly as nice as her bedroom back home; nicer than her dorm room- definitely nicer without the party girl she'd had to bunk with for three years. There was a desk with a lamp and a space for her laptop. There was a bed, a nice double with old-style sheets that made her think of her parents. There was a picture of a seascape hanging on the wall. There was a pot-plant, which Sarah was a little worried she was responsible for. It was a nice room. It was her room.

More or less.

She took a deep breath and stepped out into the lounge room, doing her very best not to feel like an intruder. There was movement at her side. She jumped, eyes wide. Dan stood in the adjoining kitchen. He smiled at her. "Settled in yet?"

She knew she should have worries about Dan. When she had told her sister back home that she was lodging with a man- and older man at that- she'd been regaled with all sorts of horror stories involving single women and trafficking rings.

It had spooked her to the point that she'd nearly bailed on signing the tenancy agreement. Dan himself had tipped the balance. He had a self-assured gentleness about him; a sweet, if somewhat melancholy look in his soft grey eyes that told her on some instinctive level that he was alright and she was safe.

He stepped into the lounge. "I cooked some stew. Did you want some?"

Sarah paused. "I really shouldn't-"

"Please? I won't be serving this every night but I thought it might do for a nice welcome. Help me eat it?"

It was that smile- that soft, warm and gentle smile that softened his rugged features- that did it. Soon enough Stella found herself sitting opposite him, devouring a surprisingly tasty stew and mash potato mix. "This is nice," she said between mouthfuls.

He gave her that smile again. "Thanks."

"Did you cook this for-" Fuck.

To his credit Dan's smile faltered only for a heartbeat. "Sometimes," he said. "She was a better cook than me."

"Right." If she died of embarrassment on the first night of her tenancy would her family get the deposit back? She glanced over at the picture on the nearby cabinet. A younger, happier Dan held a woman in her arms. She was red-haired, blue-eyed, voluptuous and had a thousand-watt smile that announced to the world she had nothing to fear from it.

Sarah stabbed at the stew until Dan changed the subject. "Your new job is tomorrow, right?"

"Yes." Her first job. Her first real job, anyway. Sure it was in a shitty office and it paid peanuts and she had no idea what she was doing...

"You okay?"

"Sure." She pushed it all down inside her and did her best to smile. "I'm good."

Dan nodded with that gentle, sad smile of his and she felt a little better.

She spent the rest of the night in her room. The contact with Dan- no matter how comforting- left her a little exhausted. She buried herself in social media until the guilt and uncertainty faded. She rose, changed into her shirt and panties, and lay down to sleep.

***

She ran and he chased.

Her red hair whipped around in front of her eyes as she pelted down the path. She felt the ache from her legs- clear, raw, strong- as she darted left and right, feet nimbly picking her way past logs and roots. Faster and faster, giggles mixing with pants for breath-

A hand on her arm, She was wrenched from her run and into his embrace. Pinned, captured, bound.

About damn time.

She peered up into his grey eyes a delicious shiver ran through her body. "Got you," he said in that deep baritone of his.

Oh. If only he knew.

He was still holding her and she didn't mind in the slightest but he must have felt it was weird because he let go of her arm. "What did you want to show me?"

She slipped out of his arms and turned towards the clearing she'd reached before he'd caught her. "This."

That earnest brow of his crinkled. "It's just the creek. We used to come here all the time as kids-"

She chuckled. Stepped a little further away. Did a little twirl on the spot, grinning. And then unbuttoned her dress.

His eyes widened with shock as the first of her dress's buttons popped open. By the third he swallowed audibly and she had to laugh- Dan, with his big, strong body, reduced to a stammering schoolboy. She caught his gaze as she pushed the dress down and off her body. Her bra and panties followed and then-

"This is what I wanted to show you," she said. "Now come on."

And she dove into the cold water of the creek with a shriek. The shock raced through her body as she swam through the dark water before turning back to Dan and winking.

He was down to his underwear already, shirt and jeans laying in the muddy dirt. She feasted her eyes on his chest- hairy, god she loved hair on a man's chest- and strong. His stomach was flat and his arms thick with muscle. He was blushing- why did he feel the need to blush? He was gorgeous. He knew he was gorgeous, right? He pulled down his underwear-

Oh.

Oh, nice.

He leapt into the water and she shied away from the splash, shrieking. He surfaced in a tangle of gleaming pale limbs and moisture-darkened hair and a bright smile and God she wanted him so badly it hurt. They splashed around and talked about unimportant things. Both of them knew it was a prelude, though; both of them anticipating what was coming. How this would end.

Closer, closer he moved, circling her, being patient, being fair, giving her the chance to shy away with virginial modesty. She wasn't shy and she didn't intend to be a virgin for much longer; not with him looking so gorgeous. So she led him, through gestures and smiles and soft touches, to the side of the creek until both of them lay naked and gleaming on the shore.

He reached out and touched her like she was fragile. She liked it but she wanted more and so she giggled and twined herself around him. They pressed against each other, lips and tongues and legs melding and merging. His erection was trapped between them, hot and hard. She was ready for him, had been ready for him for a long time. He opened her mouth to ask her permission and she loved him for that but she still silenced him with a kiss as she leant forward and lined him up against her hot, slick entrance and then she rocked her hips-

Pain. Heat. And fulfilment. He was slow- needed to be slow, he was so big- and she took her time to get used to him. Accepted the pain, pushed past it, until it began to fade away and pleasure flowed- slowly at first- while his length slid into her.

Back and forth, his pace slow, his face showing the sensations she was causing him and that woke some fresh new heat inside of her, making the pleasure come just a little faster, a little more freely. His arms gripped her shoulder and his weight pinned her into the muddy dirt and she realised that she liked it; liked being trapped, liked being dominated, liked the way he forgot his worries and gripped her tight as he thrust harder and harder, his lips working back into a silent snarl, his breath coming in short bursts as he fucked her properly and she felt the pleasure surge as though some switch had been flipped, higher and higher and tighter and tighter coiling inside of her until at last-

She shrieked and gave herself over to the joy. A moment later he roared and shuddered as though in sympathy and she felt him burst inside of her, filling her up. They lay, panting in the afterglow. She was still trapped underneath him.

That was fine.

"That was..." he breathed in rapture. "You..."

She kissed him, long and slow and certain, and said, "That? That's what I wanted. That's what I'll give you, Dan. For now and forever."

***

Sarah woke up tangled.

Tangled in her bedsheets, tangled with the dream and tangled with something else; something that lay against her, intangible and invisible and friendly. By the time she recovered her thoughts- by the time the dream, so vivid, so real, was separated from her reality- it was gone.

***

She did not easily sleep after that. In the end she rose early and set about making herself a breakfast. On a whim-

-A soft whispered giggle, just faint enough for her to dismiss it as a trick of the mind-

-she decided to make something for Dan too. She raided the fridge and put on an apron she found in the shelves and soon enough she was making up a meal for the both of them- a simple mix of bacon, scrambled egg, toast and coffee. The motions felt comforting, as though she was taking part in some old and hallowed routine and so when Dan stepped into the room, his eyes still blinking with sleep, she was all smiles. "Breakfast?"

He blinked, uncertain just like when she- she felt her smile slip for a heartbeat- and then he said, "What's all this?"

"I couldn't sleep. Coffee?" She handed him a mug.

"Thanks." He took a sip and frowned. "How did you know how I liked my coffee?"

"Well-" She paused. "I'd made it that way because-" Because- She blinked and sat down. "I must have gotten lucky. Or did you tell me?"

He smiled but there was a sense of uncertainty in his eyes. "Sure."

They ate in silence, Sarah wolfing down her food. Dan cleared his throat. "It's your first day of work today, isn't it?"

"Yes." She murmured, unsure as to why she wouldn't meet his eyes. "I'm really looking forward to it."

***

"This is terrible," said Emily. And she smiled.

It was a smile that the stout grey-haired woman had clearly mastered throughout the years- perhaps decades- a smile that said Sarah was sad and pathetic, probably just one of a long line of sad and pathetic girls who thought they could do the minimum wage work that Emily oversaw; that it wasn't, of course, Sarah's fault she was so stupid, it was just the way she was made and really her being so pathetic was a sort of a shared joke between them and so long as Sarah knew her place then Emily wouldn't hate her for long.

And the thing Sarah hated about herself is that it worked. She always crumbled. Always had; with her mother, with the cruel girls in school and the crueller girls she had mistaken for friends. She felt the shiver of shame in her stomach as she did her best not to cower next to the old woman.

Emily sighed. "This is really unacceptable. No, I'm sorry but I think it best that you stay behind tonight to correct this work."

"Okay," Sarah said. "But what did I do wrong?"

That earned her a sharp look- didn't she know? She'd been trained for hours by now! "I'm sure you'll figure it out," Emily said, that smile just a little sharper around the edges than it had been.

Sarah's eyes focused on the smile and for a second the world seemed to swim, as though she was feeling a sense of vertigo; as though she was looking out from someone else's eyes. A thought surfaced as though whispered into her ear; sharp and sweet like a lover's murmur. You deserve better than that.

***

She trudged back home- surprising, how in the space of one day it felt like hers- late that night. She walked into the living room to find Dan on the table, a glass of wine in his hand. "How was work?"

She gave him a wounded look as she wandered into the kitchen to deposit the instant meal she'd bought, swearing eternal vengeance against cruel office ladies, into the microwave. She'd make herself proper food tomorrow. Right now she just wanted a shower and to go to bed in shame-

"Want a glass of wine?"

She turned to see Dan standing in the kitchen doorway. She took a long took at his broad frame and his smile- so utterly different from that spiteful little creation of Emily's- and felt her plans for the night shift.

They sat and ate and talked while the TV played unheeded in the background. Dan was sweet; he was funny; he was solid in a way that went beyond his big, broad-shouldered frame. As they drank and joked and shared new memories with each other like old friends instead of the near strangers that they were, Sarah felt herself drifting towards some unknown border; something that flew right past flirting into a strange, impossibly familiar intimacy. The two of them drifted closer as they talked and laughed, their hands moving just shy of touching as they shifted comfortably around each other; and by the time the wine bottle was emptied she knew she was one misstep away from doing something stupid-

(A chuckle in the back of her head)

She got up, feeling her head spin, and moved into the kitchen. Poured herself some water. Let her eyes move back to that picture on the wall, with Dan and his impossibly beautiful wife- she of the bright blue eyes and fearless smile. She was aware of Dan entering the room with the wine glasses to put in the sink but that picture seemed to swallow up her world. Those eyes seem to bore into her, judging, weighing, and-

She saw the smile shift. Widen a fraction. Heard silent words like they were whispered in her ear.

Go on.

She didn't think but she felt her hand move to cup Dan's chin, felt her torso swivel as she shifted around to stare into his eyes, felt his lips- softer than she imagined- as she kissed him deep and strong and hard. For a moment she vanished into a world of heat and taste and musky, masculine scent.

Then she remembered who she was and what she was doing. She pulled away- had he put his hand around her waist? - and mumbled something, some excuse, as she fled from the room. She passed the picture as she ran.

She swore Dan's dead wife was silently laughing at her.

***

She stood in the darkness and stared at the big old house. Slipping off her sneakers, she moved over to the big old tree.

It was easy enough to climb- according to her parents she'd been climbing trees pretty much right after she could walk. The branch next to his bedroom window was a trickier proposition but she managed it, grinning like a maniac as she balanced across the narrow, creaking limb. She rapped on his dark window.

Nothing. Was he asleep? Was he away? She'd be pissed as hell if she went through all of this for nothing. She tapped again, harder, wondering briefly if he'd be upset at her if she got a brick and-

He appeared in the window, shirtless and blinking, before opening the window "Shannon?"

"Can I come in?" The alternative was figuring out how to climb down or- given the way that the branch's creaking noises were getting louder- falling two stories.

He wordlessly nodded, offering up his hand. She half-stepped, half leapt into his room and- thanks to the way she tripped on the window-frame- into his bed and his arms. Which suited her just fine. He stared up at her like she was a ghost. "What are you doing here?" He whispered, his eyes flickering to the bedroom door.

She responded by thumping his chest. "Why have you been ignoring me?"

Her voice was lighthearted but there was no mistaking the way her heart sunk when he looked away. "I..."

She wasn't the sort to demand that her bitter pills be sugar-coated. "Tell me."

"My parents. They've forbidden me from seeing you."

"So?"

"They're serious. They've talked about throwing me out of the house."

She snarled. "The bastards."

"I've tried talking to them! They don't see you the way I do! They see you as-"

"Wild." Nothing she hadn't heard before. "Reckless." From his parents, from hers, from damn near everyone she met. "Slutty." But not from him. Never from him. Until now.

"I'm sorry." He held her close like he had done so many times before but for the first time it felt constricting. She felt ashes in her mouth and bile in her throat. He was abandoning her. He was the only one who ever believed in her and he was abandoning her. She wanted to break free of his arms. She wanted to cry. She wanted to leave town and never see him ag-

Wait.

No.

Actually, fuck that. That's not what she wanted at all.

And what she wanted, she intended to take.

"What about you?" She asked softly. "Tell me what you want."

"It's not about what I want."

She laughed, low and throaty and eased her shirt over her head. She moved to straddle him, feeling a hard, hot lump in his trousers. "What do you want?" she repeated. "Do you want to obey your family?" She rolled her hips and he groaned. "Do you want to be good? Safe? Live a nice, comfortable life?" She dug her nails into his chest and he grabbed her arm- grabbed but did not stop as she left red lines on his pale skin. "Do you want everything else in this world other than me, or..." she leant down so that their lips here nearly touching. "Do you want me instead?"

He stared up at her, eyes wide.

Then he kissed her hard.

She giggled as he rolled over, her legs twining to wrap around his waist. He bent down low and tasted her breasts, lips and tongue capturing and toying with her nipples in a way that made her moan. She ran her hands through his hair as he suckled on her, pulling off her shorts and exposing her hot, ready pussy.

She gave a shocked gasp as he grabbed her and spun her around, so that her face was buried into the pillows. He ran his hands over her ass, cupping and massaging her flesh. Something flashed past the periphery of her vision- his underwear, she realised, carelessly tossed onto the floor. He shifted and then she felt something hot and hard and ready press against her pussy lips. "What do I want?" he breathed into her ear. "You want to know what I want?"

She shuddered, moaning, as his strong hands held her down. "I want this," he growled, sinking into her in a beautiful, slow movement, "I want you." He began to fuck her mercilessly, her body his plaything. "I want you." She couldn't speak, couldn't tell her that she was his forever, couldn't tell him that she loved him; all she could do was grunt and pant as he took her. "I want you now," he whispered softly even as he fucked her hard, "and I want you forever and ever." His hips sped up even as she felt her lust flare, spiralling wonderfully out of control, "For ever and ever. Promise?"

"Yes!" She screamed the word into the pillow, the promise and then he was shooting into her and she was coming hard enough that she went blind and then her parents burst through the door, alerted by her screams, alerted by the way they were thumping the bed; and they dragged them apart. They called her a whore and a homewrecker and they promised her that she'd never see their son again.

She laughed as she walked home with the swagger of a conquering queen.

***

Sarah woke with her body on fire. She moaned, shuddering, tangled up in memories that were not hers- memories that set her body ablaze. She felt the fingers of something soft caress her heated flesh and a voice whisper hotly in her ear.

What do you want?

She groaned and lay back on a bed stained with her sweat. She closed her eyes and licked her lips and thought of the way Dan had fucked her. His wife. Both of them. It didn't matter.

When she slid off her panties she felt as though there were two hands; two sets of nimble fingers exploring her sodden, heated, eager flesh. A ghost pair, guiding her own fingers, soft, gentle nudges as light as a lover's breath; easing her into naughty pleasure. More touches, more whispers, soft breezes on her face, her lips, the small, pert breasts that she bared as her fingers explored and rubbed in slow motions.

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