Shameless [Nathan Lloyd]

She lay down and pulled the covers up to her neck. "Nate?"

"Yeah?"

"Please leave."

Half dazed, I turned and left her room. I closed her door quietly behind me. As I walked back to my room, the hall lights flickered and dimmed so that the light was halved. I looked up at the bare bulbs that lined the hall. They were all different wattages, but all of them were dimmer than they had been. Which implied a wiring problem. Or a breaker problem.

Or a haunted house problem.

I climbed into bed and whacked one more out, imagining climbing into bed beside her, her freshly showered skin, damp curls of her hair hanging over my face as she rode me to ecstasy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 5

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day was Friday. I got up to take a shower and found Ash was already in the bathroom.

I sat down in the hall with my towel, already regretting agreeing to live with a female. Ten minutes later the door opened with a waft of steam.

"Hey. We leaving at seven?"

"Yep."

I got up and went into the bathroom. I shut the door and stood in the damp warmth, scenting her soap, her perfume. That goddamn perfume. Whatever it was, it was driving me crazy. Maybe if I got rid of it, she'd stop turning me on so much and things would go back to normal.

* * * * *

On the drive to work, my phone beeped. The text came up on my lock screen.

"Ooh, Nate, someone apparently wants your balls in their mouth right now!"

Ash held the phone up and I glanced at it and winced. I'd forgotten about horny Stella. Stella was a sometime fuck of mine; weekends, birthdays, special occasions. She liked it in the ass, which was her chief appeal, and every now and then she got particularly horny and she texted me. Texts like the one she'd just sent.

I took the phone out of Ash's hand and put it in the centre console.

"Don't read other people's texts."

She poked her tongue out at me. "Ooh, I'm Stella and I want Nate's sweaty ballsack in my mouth!"

Oh, how I wished that were true.

* * * * *

At work, I took my phone into the toilets and texted Stella back.

She sent back a pic of her from the neck down, no face. She was naked except for stockings and suspenders. One hand was between her legs.

I groaned and threw my head back. I'd always had a healthy sexual appetite, but lately it felt as if I was constantly horny. This was not helping.

I texted her back. 'At work.'

She sent back a smiley face. 'Tonight?'

Yeah, I could do that. 'K. Where?'

'Yours?'

I thought about that. Maybe having her over to the house was a good idea. Fucking Stella's brains out in that house might help me stop obsessing over Ash, and get back to my normal routine of screwing leggy blondes with degrees in looking cute.

I texted her my new address, then dealt with my erection before I went back to my office.

* * * * *

Ash was sitting at my desk, drinking a black coffee. She had something up on screen on my laptop. "Look."

She pointed to the paused video. An episode of Sensing Spirits. Filmed at our current address.

Ash sipped her coffee. "They didn't find anything."

I clicked on the video and watched a team of idiots wander through our house, recording green night-vision images and crapping on about standing in 'cold spots'.

I shut the browser down. "Why are you researching the house?"

She shrugged. "You were totally freaking out last night. It wasn't like you."

I frowned at her. "Clarify 'freaking out'."

She mimicked my voice. "I was just... I heard..."

"Don't you have work to do?" I kicked the swivel chair sideways and the last of her coffee sloshed in her cup.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, old grumpy pants."

Bloody Ty.

She got up and walked over to the door. "Movie night tonight?"

I checked my phone then glanced up at her. "Uh, no. I have someone coming around. We'll probably be in my room."

"Okay." She dipped her head and left, closing the door behind her.

* * * * *

Ash was sitting on the couch eating popcorn when Stella arrived.

She stared at me. "Why are you dressed like a hooker?"

"Shut up."

Stella and I had an understanding. Both of us dressed to each other's tastes. She would be in red, while I was dressed in a fitting black tank top and the tightest possible jeans.

I adjusted myself and answered the door.

As I led her through the lounge to get her a beer from the kitchen, Ash got to her feet, kernels of popcorn falling down her front.

"Hi," she said. "I'm Asha. Ash."

"Hi Ash. Stella." Stella took the beer I offered her and gave me a smile. I grinned back at her. She was dressed in a fitting red dress that was mostly straps at the back and a couple of square flaps at the front with a deep oblong cutout between them, out of which her breasts rose like Mt St Helens. Her long legs were clad in dark stockings that terminated in bright red stiletto heels. Her long blonde hair hung halfway down her back, her lips outlined in a bright red that matched her dress.

"Nice to meet you," she said to Ash.

I led her back out of the lounge to the stairs and winked back at Ash, who was kneeling on the couch watching us with an expression of shock.

Upstairs, Stella looked around my room with an expression of distaste.

"You didn't mention you had not unpacked yet." Her strong Russian accent only made her more gorgeous.

I sat on the bed. "Does it matter? The bed's made."

She walked over to me and stood between my legs and put her slim hands on my shoulders. "True."

I pulled her close and looked up at her.

She gazed down at me. "You are so gorgeous." She ran her hands through my hair.

"Right back at ya, babe."

I reached up and peeled down the straps of her dress, releasing those gorgeous tits. Her breasts stood up on her chest without a bra. For all I knew, they were fake. But who cared? They were perfect.

Stella knew the rules. She dropped to her knees and pulled my cock out of my jeans. I lay back on the bed with my arms folded under my head and gave in to the delicious sensation of her circling the head of my cock with her tongue, lingering on the underside before making another slow circle.

Her long painted nails dug into my thighs, hard enough to leave dents. My eyes closed halfway as she dragged those same nails down to my balls and grazed them over my sac.

She sucked more of me into her mouth, gliding her teeth along my cock, her eyes burning into mine.

I pushed my hips up to meet her, and she sucked me harder, one hand lightly caressing my balls.

She shifted her attention and moved down to take one of my balls into her mouth, gently running her tongue over the surface before taking the other into her mouth, engulfing me with heat.

As she tongued my nuts, she ran her nails over my thighs, making me shudder, then dug her nails back into the softer flesh of my inner thighs.

She moved back to my cock and wrapped her hand around it, lapping at the head, then sucking all of me into her mouth.

Stella didn't deep-throat, but she had a way of touching me that left my nerves on fire.

She ramped up her suction, bobbing her head up and down on my cock, increasing her pace and the pressure of her nails against my thighs.

"Fuck, yes, do it!" I ground out. She pushed her nails into me and the pain brought me to the edge.

She gave my balls a practiced tug and wrapped her lips around the head of my cock, and I came in her mouth, her tongue sliding around my cock as she swallowed it all down.

I lay there while she lapped at me until there was nothing left, then sat up and lifted her into my lap.

She ran her hands over my chest, my arms, then pulled my tank top over my head.

She drew her nails down my chest, then leaned in to kiss me.

She bit at my lower lip and I hissed in pain. "Easy, easy."

She gave me a wicked look and bit her lower lip. "Please."

Gaaargh, every time. She pushed my boundaries every fucking time. But it was just so hard to tell her no. "Just, no visible marks. Okay?"

"No permanent marks." She leaned forward and nipped my neck and I threw back my head as she bit down.

She was definitely leaving visible marks.

She put a hand behind my head and brought me up to kiss her. She nipped at my lower lip, her nails trailing over my chest.

I leaned back on my hands. "So what do you want tonight?"

She ran her hands over my biceps."I have something in my ass."

Whoooaa, hoa, yeah.

I grinned. "Well we'd better get that out for you."

She kissed me on the lips and I lifted her off me and threw her back on the bed. I stood and pulled off my jeans and underwear, while she got onto her hands and knees. Her tight red dress was stretched taut over her ass. Her eyes roved over me as I slid the red dress up over her ass.

There was a glittering red jewel nestled between her cheeks.

"Oh Stella, you naughty, naughty girl!"

* * * * *

At 3 a.m., I walked her to the door.

She shrugged on her coat and I gave her a kiss goodbye. I watched her walk back to her car and turned to find Ash standing behind me on the stairs.

"Jesus, you—"

No, not Ash. If it'd been Ash, she'd still have been there.

I closed the door behind me and leaned against it so that I could keep an eye on the stairs. I wiped a hand across my face.

Was I seeing things now?

"Is someone there?" My voice sounded too loud in the silent house.

I heard a door open on the top floor. "Nate? Is that you?"

There was that tension. That vibration.

It's just the pool pump.

"Nate?"

"Yep, sorry, didn't mean to wake you."

"Are you okay?"

"Yep. Go back to bed."

She hesitated for a moment. "Okay."

Her door closed.

Someone had been on the stairs. Someone had been on the fucking stairs.I hadn't imagined it.

If you had, that'd make more sense.

At my back, the door vibrated as if someone had pushed their weight against it, then pulled it closed as hard as they could. I spun around and locked the door. I listened for footsteps.

And there they were. Boots, clumping along the deck, down the steps, onto the concrete driveway.

I wrenched open the door. No one was there. The security light, triggered by Stella leaving, clicked off, leaving me in darkness. Wind sighed through the trees and a branch thumped against the roof.

Just the wind. Now get the fuck inside before someone puts a hook through your face.

I closed the door again and locked it. The vibration was still there, too low to be heard. I wasn't going outside to see if the pump was on.

I left the lights on and climbed up the stairs. As I reached the landing, there was a sense of pressure changing. The sound, whatever it'd been, stopped. The house fell still.

I walked back to my room, and made a mental note to stock up on light bulbs. They weren't going to last long if we left them on all night like this.

As I passed her door, I heard a noise from Ash's room. I stopped and listened, ready to push open the door if she was in trouble. Instead I heard a soft moan. Not of pain. Of release.

I shook my head and carried on down to my room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 6

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Saturday morning. I got up late and found Ash in the kitchen making a protein shake.

I leaned against the bench. "I can give you the natural version if you like."

She gave me a look of confusion. She was dressed in cutoff shorts and an old shirt that looked like one of Stefan's.

"I prefer some flavour."

I was pretty sure she hadn't understood the joke, but it was hard to tell with her.

"So what are you up to today?"

She ran the blender and then poured the frothy pink liquid into a glass.

"I was going to do some painting. There's mould all over the walls in my room. Dylan suggested I take to it with bleach and then paint over it with a mould-resistant paint. I'm going to head out and grab some from the hardware store. Want to come?"

I shook my head. "Sounds... awful."

She went into the lounge and dropped down onto the couch. "What was all that noise last night? Did your date give you a hard time when you kicked her out?"

I gave her a look of disdain. "I didn't kick her out. She left."

"At three a.m.? Do you despise each other so much that you can't even bear to sleep next to each other?"

I loaded up the toaster and set the jug onto boil.

"It's not about that," I said. "We don't meet up to sleep next to each other."

"So, what then? You meet up to fuck, and that's it?"

I shrugged. "Pretty much."

"Jesus, Dylan was right about you."

Probably.

"I am sorry I woke you up," I said.

The toaster popped and I pulled the toast out and spread it with an inch of peanut butter, then added boiling water to some instant coffee.

I took my breakfast to the lounge and sat down opposite her.

"You know, one day, when you're all grown up, you might want to have sex too."

I gave her a bright, patronizing smile.

"Not with someone like you," she said darkly. She sipped on her drink. It left a pink ring around her mouth. She licked her lips clean. Slowly.

I kept the plate on my lap and concentrated on my toast.

She cocked her head. "So, what are you going to do today? It'd be nice if we did this place up a bit. It's sunny today—maybe you could drain the pool."

"You mean drain the swamp." I pointed towards the pool with my toast. "Did you see what's floating in there?"

She nodded. "Yep. You'll need a net. There's one leaning up against the pump house."

She finished her drink and got up to put the glass in the dishwasher. "Right, I'm off. Don't drown."

* * * * *

After she'd gone, I put on some rubber gloves and went to take a look at the pool. As I'd suspected, there were two possums floating in the green muck. The controls for the main drain were in the spider infested pump house, but before I turned it on, I'd need to get the larger... objects... out. Otherwise they'd clog the drain.

With a sigh, I grabbed the net and started skimming.

It was midday by the time I felt confident enough to leave it to drain. I flicked the controls on and went back to stand by the stagnant pond that would soon be our summer oasis. As far as I could tell, it was working. I peeled off my sweaty rubber gloves and headed back inside. Time for some gaming.

Ash got home a short while later.

"Nice job on the pool," she said. "It's going to be nice when it's clean."

She was covered in a light sheen of sweat, and carrying a bunch of crap in plastic bags.

"I thought you were just getting paint?"

She dumped the plastic bags on the lounge floor. "Yeah; paint, a roller, spare rollers, brush cleaner, brushes, mould treatment—and this packet of jellybeans for buying over a hundred bucks worth of stuff."

She ripped open the plastic packet and popped a red jellybean into her mouth. She held the packet out to me. "Want one?"

I shook my head. "So, you pretty much let yourself be sold a bunch of crap you didn't need."

"Yeah?" She sat back on the couch. "Tell me, Mr grumpy pants, which of this stuff don't I need?"

"Stop calling me that," I said. I nudged a plastic bag with my foot. "You're telling me Stefan and Dylan don't have any decorating stuff lying around?"

She shrugged. "Don't think so."

"Your gay foster fathers don't have any decorating equipment? Not so much as a paint brush you could borrow?"

She popped an orange jellybean into her mouth. "I didn't ask. Not all gay guys are into decorating you know."

I rolled my eyes. I knew damn well that Stefan was. He'd redone their house three times since they'd lived next door.

"Well then, great job."

She threw a black jellybean at me. I caught it and threw it back.

She caught it and threw it back. This time, it fell down between the couch cushions.

"And that's how you get ants." I lifted up the couch cushion. "That's weird."

There was a mark on the base board. A triangle with a smudge in the centre. It hadn't been there when I'd put the cushions on the couch. It looked as though it had soaked through the wood.

Ash peered around me. "What?"

"Just a weird... stain."

I pushed the cushions back into place and put my hand flat against the fabric. It wasn't wet. I didn't see how water had soaked through from insidethe couch.

She dropped back down on the other couch and threw a purple jelly bean at me.

"Right!"

I threw myself across her and grabbed the jelly beans out of her hand. "I'm going to make you eat all of these!"

I grabbed a handful and shoved them into her mouth.

She pushed me away, laughing, and spat a rainbow of jellybeans at me.

There was a knock at the door.

"Anyone home?"

I looked at Ash. "You expecting anyone?"

She shook her head.

I climbed off her and went to the door. I pulled it open and found a pudgy middle-aged man on the stoop. There was something about him that pinged a warning on my radar. Something about the sheen of sweat on his forehead and the way he was breathing as if he'd just discovered his picture was being shown on the news.

"Are you Nathan Lloyd?"

"Yeah, I am." I leaned against the doorframe. "What can I do for you?"

"You fucking asshole!" He put both hands against my chest and shoved me back into the house.

I fell back against the stairs and he swung a fist at my face.

I put up my hands to defend myself, then grabbed him around the legs and tackled him to the ground.

I sat on his chest and raised my fist. "What the fuck are you doing?"

He sneered up at me, his wire-frame glasses knocked crooked.

"You fucked my wife, you fucking... you fucking kid. You fucked my wife."

He started to cry. I stared at him, confused.

"What's her name?"

"Stella," he sobbed. "I found her messages to you on her phone."

"Stella is your wife?" I said. I was having a hard time getting my brain to absorb that concept. I lowered my fist. "Stella Gordon is your wife?"

"Yes! Yes!" He put a hand down to his pants and I got off him. He didn't look the type to carry a knife. An iPhone, sure, but not a knife. He pulled out his wallet and handed it to me, open to her picture.

"Well, bugger me." I was sure she wasn't older than thirty. This guy had to be at least twenty years her senior.

I sat on the stairs and flicked through his photos. In all of them she was clothed. In some of them she was with a round-faced kid who had blonde hair and glasses—just like his dad.

He sat up and I handed his wallet back to him. "I'm sorry mate. I had no idea she was married."

Trembling, he took it and adjusted his crooked glasses.

"She has a wedding ring."

"Not when I'm fu... not when I see her."

He stuffed his wallet back into his pocket and sat there, his little round body and his short, splayed legs.

"I know, I know. You want to know how I ended up with a wife as gorgeous as her."

I leaned back on the steps. "Yeah, I have to say, I am curious."

He scratched his head, parting his thinning hair so that his scalp shone through, and looked down at the ground.

"I met her on a Russian dating site. You know the kind."

"Vaguely," I said.

He flashed me an angry look. "Yeah, I get it, because you'll never need to buy sex."

I shrugged. I wasn't going to deny it.

"I earn okay. I'm a computer programmer. I have a good heart. I wanted kids and I never got the chance because... well." He gestured to himself with a hand. "Because I'm not exactly mating material. And I thought we were happy. I gave her a good life—she hasn't wanted for anything. We have a son, Marcus, and we both adore him. But recently I started to get the feeling something wasn't right. I found clothes in her wardrobe that I'd never seen her wear. Found... toys."

He took a shuddering breath in.