Matchmaker 05: May

"What? Fuck the shit out of me. I'm not complaining about that."

"The biting, the choking, the hitting, the scratching? That didn't bother you?"

I considered my answer carefully. "Would it bother you if I said no?" I could tell by the way she looked at me she didn't like my answer. "Did it bother you, at the time, that I got rough with you?"

She looked down. "No, but that was her, not me."

"No, that was you too. This She and Her you keep talking about, it's all of who you are."

"Well, I don't like those parts of me."

"I do."

"Then fuck you," she muttered.

"Hear me out. She, Her, this darkness, as you call it, makes you who you are. I like you for who you are. The fact that you got wild in bed was actually a turn on. I'm tired of women who have no fire, no will of their own. Yeah, it was just sex, but you never backed down and you gave as good as you got. You didn't beg me not to hurt you, and you didn't shut down and simply let me have my way with you. I—"

"So you like hurting women?"

"I have no interest in actually hurting you, Michelle, but did I really hurt you, or did I hurt you so good?" I asked, watching her for a reaction. "Yeah, you scratched me some, but you could have choked or bitten me a lot harder than you did. I don't think you really wanted to hurt me. My point is, if someone were going to really hurt you, rape you, whatever, I think you'd fight to escape rather than depend on begging to keep them from hurting you. You could have bitten my cock off, but you didn't. If someone were really trying to hurt you, I think you could call on this darkness, as you call it, and take it until you could do something like that. I guarantee you, that will take any guy out of the fight, and then you could escape. If I'm right, that's She, or Her, or whatever the hell you call that strength inside you, that gives you that ability."

She looked at me for a long moment. "Even if you're correct, that doesn't make what I did right."

"No, it doesn't, but by your own words, you never did anything like that again."

"Yeah, because I keep that bitch locked up tight."

"Maybe part of your problem is you don't give Her enough exercise. You said yourself you only let her out when you can't keep her locked up anymore."

She began shaking her head before I finished speaking. "No. I can't do that."

"Why?"

"I am afraid of what might happen."

My lips twitched into a small smile. "That you'll hurt someone?" She nodded. "Personally, I think I can take the bitch."

"It's not funny, Garret!"

"I'm not saying it is, but I don't think you'd actually try to hurt me. You had a chance to and didn't take it." She was shaking her head again. "The best way to overcome your fears is to face them. I can take care of myself, so you don't have to worry about me."

She wouldn't meet my gaze. "But what if I can't put her back in her box?"

"Then I guess I'll have to help you by fucking that bitch into submission."

I stood in the kitchen, browning hash browns and thick chunks of ham for brunch. I smiled to myself as I used a flat wooden spatula to keep the mixture moving so it wouldn't burn. We hadn't had breakfast proper in almost two weeks because we were always busy doing other things first thing in the morning.

After our talk on the trail, it'd taken me a couple more days before I trusted myself with Garret. Lynn, as we'd dubbed her, had raged inside her box, demanding to be set free. She had taken his offhand remark of being able to take her, and fucking her into submission, as a challenge, a challenge she relished. She's whispered in my dreams until I couldn't keep her contained any longer. On the second night, as he kissed me good night, I hadn't stopped him as the kiss gained momentum. As he slowly pulled me up the steps to his bedroom, I'd set her free, and oh... my... God, the fucking we'd done that night. I'd learned to trust Garret in the past two weeks. If Lynn got a little too wild, he simply overpowered her, and that was exactly what she wanted.

I'd learned a few things about Lynn and about myself with Garret. The most surprising revelation was that Lynn really didn't want to hurt anyone, she only wanted to know Garret, or Michael as we called his hard-fucking counterpart, could handle her. When Lynn got too rough, Michael would force her to stop whatever she was doing, sometimes responding in kind to demonstrate why he wouldn't tolerate her behavior, all the while fucking the shit out of me.

After a couple of days, we'd learned the limits, and we could play right up to the point where pain increased the pleasure. I smiled as Garret came in with another load of split wood. It was a good thing he'd taken all his annoyances and frustrations with me out on the wood pile during the week I was being a bitch because he wasn't splitting nearly as much wood now. He was getting his exercise another way.

I turned my attention back to our brunch. When I learned he was good to his word and could handle me, I'd unchained Lynn entirely and let her play. I'd explored my dark fantasies, sometimes with his knowledge and sometimes without.

One night I was the most bad-ass biker bitch on the west coast. Me and my gang, the Daughters of Destruction, met up with the Lords of Chaos to determine control over our disputed territory. As the president of my club, I represented us in a fucking contest with the president of the Lords of Chaos, the winner gaining control of the territory for the next six months. Michael fucked me for over two hours, with only a short break in the middle after he came the first time, but as I was breathing life back into his cock, he was licking and nibbling me into another orgasm.

One morning, as he was deciding what clothes to wear, I was waiting in ambush, shoved him into the tiny closet, shut the door behind us, and we'd fucked our brains out, our cries of effort and pleasure ringing loud in the tiny space as he pounded into me. The closet was so small we barely had enough space, but struggling to fuck while tangled in some weird-ass positions made the experience incredibly intense.

And there'd been more. We'd fucked nearly everywhere, the bed, the shower, the stairs, the dining table, and everywhere in between. It didn't matter where we were or what we were doing, when one of us was horny, Michael or Garret was ready. The only place I couldn't get him to fuck me was outside, perhaps remembering what had happened to him the last time, so we'd compromised and fucked inside the stable.

I gave the browning concoction another turn, my smile widening in memory. He'd taken me in the tack and feed room, where it was slightly warmer, in another rough and wild session. Bending him backwards over one of the feed bags had put his cock at the perfect height and angle for my pleasure. As I held him down with a hand under his chin, he'd mauled my breasts, both of us crying out in effort and erotic bliss. I'd bounced on his cock until I came, crying my ecstasy to the world, and I think I would have fallen had he not grabbed me and clamped me to his chest. Before I could recover, he'd picked me up, slammed me against the wall and fucked me hard and deep. I wrapped him up with my arms and legs and held on, flogging him with my words, until he roared in completion, his legs shaking as he splashed into me. I swear, I think Penny and Shamrock looked at me in jealousy as we were redressing. Sorry girls, but he's all mine.

Some of my fantasies had been disappointing, reality unable to live up to my imagination, but others had far exceeded anything I could dream up. The motorcycle one had been especially intense. As we were nearing exhaustion, we were down to just fucking, too tired for anything more energetic. It was a very loving scene as he lay on me, his arms tucked in and holding me close. Both of us were dripping sweat, panting from our long, arduous exertions, with Michael's breath hot as flame as he buried his face in my neck as he pumped into me. What made it so incredibly erotic was neither of us was willing to admit we couldn't continue. Listening to his soft grunt every time he slowly plunged into me had worked me up to the point that I wailed out one last orgasm when he gave his last in a final moment of furious fucking before bellowing and shuddering through his second climax of the night.

But better than all of that was the fact that I could be myself. Garret had accepted me as I was. He didn't care that I had a dark side. He'd met that darkness head on and with gusto. As he'd predicted, he'd taken on the bitch and fucked her into submission. After about a week of hard, sweaty, loud, nasty fucking, Lynn had waved off the chance for another encounter.

That was when I found out that while Michael liked to play rough, Garret was a caring, gentle lover. When Lynn was too well fucked to want to come out, Michelle got to enjoy Garret, and it had been just as wonderful as Lynn and Michael. For the first time since Lynn had revealed herself, I no longer felt like I had to pretend. I could be me, both sides of me, and not be judged.

"How're you doing?" Garret asked, wrapping his arms around me from behind and nuzzling my neck. I'd been so lost in my own little world I hadn't realized he was done with the wood and started in surprise.

"Fine. You?"

He grinned. "After this morning? Tired."

I tingled in excitement as I lifted the skillet from the stove and began to divide the contents onto two plates. This morning we'd made love, but it had been a marathon session of almost an hour before he'd finally tapped out. I wasn't able to best him often, so when I did, it made the experience that much more memorable.

"I made you a big breakfast to help you keep your strength up," I teased as I placed the pan in the sink for later washing.

"That's good or I'll have to start taking the little blue pill."

I trilled out a laugh. "For God's sake, don't do that!" The problem wasn't him getting it up, it was me getting it to go down.

He shook his head as he poured two tall glasses of milk and two smaller glasses of orange juice. We'd already had our morning coffee as we took turns in the shower. "I don't know. You wore my ass out this morning."

"As I recall I went right to sleep."

"Yeah, after I came and couldn't go anymore."

I shrugged as I settled at the table, dividing the orange juice between us. "That was what, the third time in the past two weeks?"

He settled across from me, sliding one of the milk glasses across to me. "I don't want to leave you hanging."

I snickered. "You didn't, but if you ever do, I'll trade you in for Michael. That guy seems to be able to fuck forever."

He sighed heavily and slumped in comic defeat. "Well, fuck. I knew I shouldn't have introduced you to him."

"Nah, you're good. Lynn can have him. I'd rather have you."

"Really?"

"You're surprised?"

"Yeah, a little."

"Don't be. I told you I don't like Lynn. Michael is more her type. I prefer you."

"There for a while, I didn't know."

I softened, no longer teasing. "I know."

"It's okay."

I shook my head. "I'm not upset, but I wasn't sure I would be able to get her back inside her box after I let her out."

"But you did."

"Thanks to you."

"I didn't do anything."

"Yes you did. To use your term, you 'fucked her into submission.'"

The darkness was still there, but it no longer frightened me. In my mind I'd upgraded Lynn from being locked in a box to far more comfortable accommodations. She was no longer a thing of derision to punish and ignore. She was still in a prison, as I was the only one that could unlock the door to set her free, but as long as she got to come out and play occasionally, 'getting enough exercise,' as Garret had put it, she was far more agreeable and easy to control.

He grinned at me. "Any time, any place, if she needs a good fucking to remind her of her place, let me know and I'll call Michael."

"Any place?"

"You name it."

"Outside?"

He snickered. "Okay, any place but one. Still, maybe he can go all caveman on her, throw her over his shoulder, and carry her inside before fucking her. She'd probably get off on that."

A tickle of excitement ran through me. That damned Lynn was eavesdropping on my conversations again. "Yeah, I think she probably would."

"Are we going riding later?" he asked as we finished our meal. "It's supposed to rain tonight and tomorrow, so if you want to ride, we probably should do it early."

"Yeah, I think I would. Right after we finish here?"

"Sounds good."

I nodded in agreement. We didn't ride the horses every day, and we weren't riding them as often now because we were always riding each other, but a good ride—a good horseback ride, I amended to myself—seemed like just the ticket. If it really started raining later, other than tending to Shamrock and Penny and grabbing a bite to eat, we'd probably spend the entire day in bed.

As he tended the fire so it'd last for the two or three hours we'd be gone, I quickly washed the dishes. It was still cold at night, but the days were warming nicely. Sixty-five to seventy degrees was perfect riding weather.

I liked how he almost unconsciously took my hand while leading me to the stable, Penny and Shamrock watching us with interest. He'd obviously been uncomfortable around horses at the beginning, but he'd warmed up to Shamrock nicely. We each had two carrots and half an apple, and as we approached, their ears perked forward. I smiled. The animals clearly expected us to bring them a treat. They were spoiled rotten, just as they should be.

"Hey, girl," I said, stroking Penny on the side of her head as she took one of her carrots from me.

I glanced at Garret and smiled. Even female horses drooled over him, Shamrock's neck stretched out as she nosed him for petting. Curt had stopped coming around to check on his horses, and I think what convinced him was how Shamrock had taken to Garret. She clearly adored him, and not just because he fed her apples.

We saddled our mounts, and I smiled in memory at Garret learning to saddle and care for Shamrock on his own. The first time he tried to saddle Shamrock himself, I'd heard her grunt, and she'd twisted her head around to look at him accusingly. It was my fault. I'd told him the front and flank cinches, the wide belts that went under the horses to hold the saddle in place, needed to be tight. I'd failed to take into account his strength and he'd overtightened the straps. I'd checked them and had him back them off one notch. Tight didn't mean so tight as to strain her ribs.

Now, however, he could saddle Shamrock faster than I could saddle Penny because he could toss the fifty-pound saddles around like they weighed nothing. He first carried my saddle out of the tack room, tossing it onto the blanket on Penny's back. While I worked on Penny, he returned and got his own saddle.

When he was finished with his horse, we led the girls out and mounted. There were fire roads cut all through the forest that were ideal for riding. As we plodded along, I couldn't believe how much better a horseman he was. He hadn't figured out how to post yet, but he no longer held onto the saddle's horn, and the once or twice we let the horses gallop, he'd risen up on the stirrups just like a pro. Mostly we walked the horses, preferring the relaxed pace, allowing us to ride longer without wearing the horses out.

"Hard to believe we only have a week left," he said as he and Shamrock walked along beside Penny and me. "It seems like we just got here."

"Yeah."

"What?"

"What?" I asked, not understanding what he was asking.

"You sound a little sad."

I sighed. He was surprisingly perceptive. "A little, I guess."

"Why?"

"I feel like I wasted an entire week, and now it's almost over."

"We still have a week left."

"I know."

I'd left the farm in the capable hands of two members of my staff, but I needed to get back to my farm and my old life. The problem was, I didn't want to go back. I thought it over. It wasn't that I didn't want to go back, it was I didn't want to leave Garret. Since I'd stopped being a bitch, he'd stopped being an asshole. More than that, he, more than anyone else on the planet, knew me for who I really was, and he'd accepted me. I didn't have to pretend with him, and that made him special.

"You okay?" he asked softly.

I forced a smile. "Yeah. Just thinking."

"You know that's bad for you? You remember what happened the last time you thought too much."

My smile became genuine. "Yeah, I know."

"What are you thinking about?"

"Our time together, going home, all the work that's probably waiting on me. The normal stuff."

"Yeah. I know the feeling. Why don't we forget everything, steal Curt's horses, and just ride away? We could live in the woods, like Sasquatch."

I snickered as I imagined him running through the woods naked, and I found that I liked the imagery.

We rode along in relative silence, each of us lost in our thoughts. He only lived an hour away. Maybe we could still see each other, perhaps on weekends. I smiled to myself. Lynn would miss her exercise partner if we didn't stay in touch.

We followed the road into a clearing in one of the many petite valleys nestled among the hills and mountains. In the center was a wide brook that flowed into a small, most amazingly clear lake I'd ever seen, before continuing its path down the meadow. The area surrounding the lake was in full bloom, the flowers open in the warming sunlight setting the meadow ablaze with their color.

We stepped off the horses and allowed them to drink their fill from the lake and nibble on the tender new growth. He took my hand and led me away. The horses were well trained and would stay where we left them. The idea of taking the horses and living like Sasquatch was getting more appealing by the moment.

"You know what I think?" he asked.

"What?"

"I think your secret base is nearby, you capitalist spy pig. Are you going to tell me where it is, or I will have to fuck the location out of you?" he said with a comically stereotypical Russian accent.

He was playing with me, giving me an opportunity to have what I'd asked for, what until now he'd refused. Not only that, he was setting up a scenario for me, offering me the opportunity to let Lynn come out and play. He knew the motorcycle fantasy we'd played out had gotten me off hard. This was a different twist on the same idea. Lynn knocked politely on the door and asked if I wanted her to handle this. I opened the door wide in invitation.

Garret said he could tell who he was with by the way I looked. According to him, Lynn was harder, her eyes narrower, her lips thinner, and she carried herself differently. I'd tried to recreate the look in a mirror, so I could see what he saw, but he said I never got it right. I might not be able to see the difference, but I could feel it. Soft and hard was a good way to think of it. Michelle was the soft seductress, Lynn the hard-fucking bitch.

I was still a little tender from the fucking I took last night, and the marathon love making this morning, but Lynn didn't care. She wouldn't back down until she was bowlegged, and she considered being sore a badge of honor.

All my thoughts happened in the blink of an eye, and I smiled at Ivan, the Russian spy. "You communist dog, I'll never tell you where it is."

He smirked. "Then I will have to fuck the information out of you. You Americans are soft. You won't last five minutes with a Russian man." I like how he slapped himself on the chest in bravado. He was pushing Lynn's buttons, and he knew exactly what he was doing.