The Wolf and the Lamb

Dipping my toe in the pool, trying something new...comments welcome.

How It Started....

Rafe was weary. The kind of weary that seeps deep into your bones and makes every part of you empty from the lack of energy. The kind of weary that makes thought difficult, making a man search for words the way a pig snuffles in the dirt for truffles. All work and no play...yadda, yadda, yadda. It was sad, really, he thought. He was 42 years old, successful, and staring at frozen dinners for one in the supermarket.

His reverie was interrupted when she whirled past him like a dervish then stopped so abruptly that he was surprised he didn't hear tires squealing.

"Excuse me!" She said, reaching around him to open the cooler door. "Oh! So sorry!" She added when the door thunked against his nose. She looked at him as she reached blindly into the boxed dinners, grabbing one. "Does it hurt? I swear to God I didn't mean to whack you! I mean, why would I, right? I don't even know you! Do you need anything? Are you OK?"

She looked at the box in her hand and wrinkled her nose in distaste before shoving it back in with the others. As the cooler door swung inward, her bag slid off her shoulder and onto the floor with a soft thud. They both stooped at the same time, and their foreheads knocked together.

"Ouch." She muttered under her breath, rubbing her head with one hand while trying to scoop up items with the other. He bent to help her, and she added, "Thanks."

"It's...." He said as they stood.

"....no worries," she assured him, patting her bag to make sure it was secure on her shoulder again. "I know you didn't do it on purpose."

Their eyes met for a moment, maybe less. Hers were a pale silvery gray, reminding him of moonlight, and they clashed briefly with the melting chocolate of his. She blinked, a slow flutter of long lashes against her cheek, then she was off in full whirl, rushing down the aisle as her heels made a pleasant tap-tap-tap against the tile.

Suddenly she twirled around, making her red skirt float lightly above her knees for a moment before drifting down. Walking backwards, she said, "Have a good one! So sorry again...you're sure you're OK?"

Maybe he nodded; he'd never know for sure, then she twirled the other way and rushed out of sight.

Flummoxed, he decided, was the only word for how he was feeling. His mouth twitched up. It couldn't be called a smile, but it was the closest he'd come to one in what felt like a very long time.

As he pushed the cooler door closed, a flash from the floor caught his eye. The clasp on a small sort of wallet thing, he discovered, pink with delicate butterflies and the word Coach embossed on it. Inside were two credit cards, a driver's license, and a stash of business cards.

He extracted a business card, admiring the weight of good card stock. It was soft white with a deep mauve border, and three lines of dark gray lettering consisting of the words Chloe Breckenridge, a phone number, and an email address. BreckenridgeDesign@gmail.

Several thoughts zinged through his brain in rapid succession. Her name is Chloe. What did she design? Web sites? Clothes? Interiors? Video games?

He slid the card case into his pocket and decided to Door Dash something halfway decent instead. As he left the store, a barely-there frisson of energy shimmied down his spine.

In his car, he tapped Breckenridge Design into the search engine on his phone. Several returns popped up, and he scrolled until he found one in Florida. The site was under construction, but the same deep mauve and dark gray hues were featured, as was the email address and Located in Palm Beach, Florida. His mouth twitched up again. It was her.

As he backed out of the parking space and drove slowly towards the end of the row, Rafe noticed a woman wearing a blood red skirt that swirled around her knees as she rooted through assorted items on top of her car, upon which she had obviously emptied her bag. As he passed her, she hit the car roof with the flat of her hand and haphazardly shoveled everything back into the battered brown bag.

It struck him that he knew that bag, that red skirt, and those knees. He hit the brakes and backed up a few feet. She was muttering something he couldn't make out as she repeatedly pushed the unlock button on the car's remote.

"Excuse me," he said, and she whirled towards him, her chestnut hair falling into one eye. "Can I help?"

She flipped her hair out of her eye and over her forehead in one elegant motion. One errant piece floated down, and she blew it away with a short puff of air. "Oh, thanks; but no. I need a new battery for my fob; I just keep putting off getting one. I think it's dead-dead this time. There's an auto parts store right there," she added, nodding towards a building not far from the supermarket. "I'll just grab one there." She sighed.

"Bad day?"

She smiled, and her heart-shaped face lit from within. "Good day," she assured him. Holding up a pair of crossed fingers, she added, "Hopefully a great day!"

"How so?" He liked watching her mouth move, the way the left corner tilted a smidge higher than the right when she smiled.

Chloe moved a few steps closer. "Are you a serial killer trying to coax me into your car?" she asked.

Her bottom lip was full and pouty. Rafe wanted to know what it would feel like if he caught it between his teeth and tugged gently. He shook his head. "Not so far," he answered solemnly. "But never say never."

She laughed, a spontaneous bubble of sound. "Come to think of it," she said, admiring his black Audi R8, "this doesn't look much like a murder car."

"Which makes it...." He began.

"....the perfect murder car," they finished together. When she laughed this time, it was full, throaty and completely charming. His smile was genuine for the first time in weeks.

A truck honked behind him, making them both startle. "Don't move," he directed. He parked a few spaces down and crossed over to where she was leaning against her car. "Rafe," he told her, extending his hand.

She put hers in it, and he was taken by how soft her palm felt against his. "I'm..."

"....Chloe." They spoke in unison again, only this time her eyes turned dark and suspicious.

She backed away from him as she pushed the button on her car fob again. When it unlocked, she let out a huge breath. She yanked on the door handle and had it halfway open when he spoke.

"We saw each other in the store. You hit me with the cooler door." His voice was calm, and he saw something like recognition flicker in her gaze. Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew the little pink case. "I found your business card."

"Ohhhhhh," she said almost in a whisper, obviously relieved, and he tried not to notice how sexy it sounded. He failed, but he gave himself points for trying.

Chloe reached out and took the case. "Thank you," she said. "For a second there, I thought you really were a serial killer."

"Yeah. I got that."

"Forgive me?"

"Only if you say yes to having a drink with me."

"Drinks!" She exclaimed, suddenly fumbling through her bag. "What time is it? Do you know?"

Rafe looked at his watch. "6:15."

She stopped fumbling. "Ooof. So much for that." She sighed dramatically and smiled. "I really shouldn't," she said. "Have a drink with you, I mean. I don't even know you."

Rafe considered his options. "Drinks are boring," he said. "How about if I buy you a battery for your fob and a burger?"

Chloe grinned at him. How many different smiles did she have, he wondered, suddenly wanting to catalog all of them. "How about I buy my own battery and we go Dutch for burgers?"

"Hmmm." Rafe contemplated her terms. "You buy your own battery, we go Dutch for burgers, but dessert's on me. Deal?"

Chloe thought for a moment. "Deal."

A little over an hour later, they were sitting on the hood of her car in a deserted park looking at the river and eating ice cream cones because she'd said it was her favorite. She had taken off her cardigan to reveal a charcoal gray sleeveless turtleneck. Rafe had been pleasantly surprised by how lush her curves were; they'd been camouflaged by her sweater and full skirt.

She took a long, swooping lick of her vanilla/chocolate swirl and made an approving sound of enjoyment. Rafe didn't know what was more distracting, her tongue swirling across the ice cream or the noise she made.

She tossed the remains of her cone in a nearby trash can and laughed. "Suh-woooosh!" She said with a quicksilver grin. "Two points!" She imitated the roar of a crowd. "And the crowd goes wild!"

Rafe rolled his eyes. "Amateur." He turned his back to the can and threw his cone in blind. It made a satisfying sound as it connected. "Oh, yeah!"

She punched him in the arm. "It's not nice to show off, Rafe," she scolded. "Were you raised by wolves?"

He chuckled. "In a way, yes, as a matter of fact," he answered.

"Oh, yeah?" Her tone dripped skepticism. "Were your parents zookeepers?" When he shook his head, she added, "Spill, please."

"My last name is Adolpha," he said, "which means wolf, or more specifically, noble wolf."

Chloe scooted to the edge of the car hood and hopped down. For a moment, her skirt did that floaty thing again, only this time he saw thighs and the tiniest bit of her curvy bottom. "So not only were you raised by wolves, you ARE a wolf." She looked sideways at him. "And if I'm any judge of wolves, you're the big, bad kind, too."

Rafe twirled an invisible mustache. "The better to eat you my dear," he said in a growly voice and took a couple of steps closer to her.

Chloe felt like a lamb about to ravished as her body responded to that dark yet playful tone and the wolfish look in his eye. Her nipples tightened, and she felt a flush of heat course through her, stopping as a pleasant ache between her legs. If he could do this to her with just his voice, she thought, imagine what else he could do.

He moved still closer, and the sun was almost gone when she met him halfway, lifting her face to meet his kiss. He was warm, and his heart thudded under her fingertips when she laid it on his chest.

To her surprise, his kiss was insistent without being demanding, exploratory without being entitled; and when his tongue asked for entry at the seam of her lips, Chloe opened for him and yielded even as she surged forward to meet him.

Too soon, he lifted his head, and a breeze whispered across her mouth. Neither of them spoke. The evening sky enshrouded them, and for a few endless moments there was just the two of them and the kiss, a pulsing, wanting thing that lay unfinished between them. Rafe reached for her again, but she stopped him.

"Adolpha?" she asked. "Please don't be Rafael Adolpha the architect." But she knew he was. It was just her luck.

"That's me. Why?"

Chloe pushed her fingers through her hair, twisting it up into a knot only to let it fall. "Because I interviewed for a job at your firm today," said. "That's why!"

Rafe groaned and looked at the sky, counting ten stars before looking at her again. "One of the internship positions?"

"The entry level architect position," she answered.

"Why didn't you say you're an architect?"

"Why didn't you?" she returned.

She'd said she was 24, and he'd assumed she was a realtor, secretary, or teacher because he met so many of them, but he hadn't asked. He shrugged inelegantly.

"That's all you've got?" She imitated his shrug almost perfectly. "Craptastic!" She added vehemently, followed quickly by, "Sorry for the language."

"Chloe," Rafe smiled. "Who the hell thinks craptastic is swearing?"

"My grandmother," she retorted. "Lolly had very definite ideas about women and swearing."

"And she managed to break you of it, I assume, other than craptastic?"

"Pretty much." Chloe agreed, followed quickly by, "No! You are not going to change the subject!" She shoved him without much power. "This is awful!"

He pulled her into his arms, and she punched him lightly. "Why is it awful, Chloe?" Rafe asked, kissing her hair. It smelled like Jasmine. He felt rather than saw her look up at him, and he kissed the tip of her nose, something he couldn't remember ever doing before. "Hmmm?"

She sighed, and her body trembled when she let it out. "Because I like you so much!"

He laughed. "Ditto."

"Nice comeback, Patrick Swayze."

"Chloe?"

"What?" Her tone was soft but surly. He liked it.

"I'm going to kiss you again, and we're going to worry about architecture and jobs later."

Under the night sky, he couldn't see her features clearly, but she turned in his embrace; and her arms lifted and slid around his neck. "OK," she murmured.

His breath was warm against her skin as he kissed her neck and then sucked the spot before moving to blow gently in her ear and bite the lobe. His hands caressed her back and moved down to cup her bottom and pull her more firmly against him. He concentrated on her neck and ears, moving languorously from one side to the other, kissing, sucking, blowing, biting.

Finally, when she thought she'd go crazy if he didn't, he moved to her lips.

Every nerve in her body was on high alert, her nipples hard and tingling. When he took her mouth, Rafe commanded that she open for him, and she welcomed the hot silk of his tongue, hungry for it and all that promised to follow.

He was hard, and she rubbed against him, relishing the sharp intake of his breath. Chloe was dizzy, swaying under the torrent of his mouth as he stole her breath.

She was trapped under the sweet assault of his kisses, moaning softly into his mouth, giving as good as she got, a willing spider in his velvet web, waiting breathlessly for him to devour her.

They finally broke apart to take gasping breaths. Chloe's lips felt bereft without his kisses to scorch them, and she took a stumbling step away from him.

"Rafe, I...." She stopped and swallowed. "I should get home," she finished in a rush.

Rafe cupped one side of her face in his hand. "This isn't over," he said. "We just have to figure a couple of things out."

Without warning, she kissed him, sliding her tongue into his mouth to duel with his. She raked her fingers through his hair, holding him to her, kissing him like she was suffocating, and he was oxygen. The kiss was hungry and beseeching, making promises while mourning their inevitable brokenness. Chloe was soft and pliant in his arms, and he crushed her to him. Her kiss was celebration and sadness, and when she ended it, she turned swiftly and walked towards her car.

"I mean it, Chloe," he called.

"I know," she called back without turning around. "I had such a good time tonight, and I needed it. Really. You have no idea how much."

He watched her drive away, then got in his car, slamming both hands hard against the steering wheel.

Chloe didn't cry until she got home.

How it's Going....

His hands moved like raw silk over her skin, rough but not mean, and like a flower her body opened to him, revealing secrets she hadn't known it kept. She pulled against the cords that bound her wrists but had no desire to escape them.

"Mine." His voice was a dangerous growl that made her already wet pussy flood.

"Yes," she whispered once and then again on a drawn-out moan. Her submission was palpable and shimmered in the twilight like a benediction.

His tongue was a velvet flame between her legs, and he consumed her, feasting on her juices with long, slow licks. He slid a finger in her tight, wet heat and sucked her clit until her back bowed in ecstasy, climbing higher than it seemed possible for her to go and then higher still.

He was the maestro, and she was his symphony. Time and time again he brought her to the edge, and only when he deemed it time did she crescendo, crying out his name again and again as she crested wave after wave then toppled into his cashmere abyss.

Chloe took several shuddering breaths and felt it as he slipped her bonds and they fell away. She opened her eyes and looked into his. Using her fingertips, she traced the planes of his face, wondering as she often did what she had done to deserve him. Lover, teacher, friend, he was her touchstone, her safe harbor, her everything.

She kissed him and tasted herself on his mouth. "That," she said, "was perfectly adequate."

Rafe chuckled and rolled onto his back, taking her with him and pulling her close. "Maybe I should watch a few how to videos."

She giggled and flicked his nipple with her fingernail. "Never stop trying," she said, dancing her fingers down his taut stomach until they found his cock and wrapped around it. He tipped her chin up and plundered her mouth with his tongue as she stroked him. "What's your pleasure, sir?" she whispered.

He stroked her plump bottom lip with the pad of his thumb and she caught it in her mouth, purring deep in her throat as she sucked it.

"Your mouth, baby," He grinned when she licked her lips and purred again.

Her touch was feather-light as she teased him with licks and wet kisses before sliding her pretty mouth over the head and sucking with long, shallow pulls. Taking him deeper with each stroke, the flat of her tongue massaged the underside of his shaft as he caught fistfuls of her hair and tugged.

"Good girl," he murmured, and she hummed around his cock before letting it slide out of her mouth so she could lick the slit with the tip of her tongue

Her breath was a heavy fog surrounding him, and he was lost in the sensation of her mouth and hands as she made love to his cock. Gradually, he could feel her throat caress him, making her gag a bit, but she didn't stop. If anything, she was hungrier for him, moaning and meeting his gaze with pleading in her own.

"Feed me," she begged, sucking in earnest now, until the world was reduced to just her mouth, wet and greedy around his cock, and he came in powerful bursts, flooding her throat until her lips overflowed.

Her head lay on his thigh, and he petted her hair, twisting and sliding the silken strands between his fingers as his ragged breathing returned to normal. Her tongue was soft and sweet, gentle as a lamb, as she cleaned his cock.

Long minutes later, when she finished and was curled next to him, she said drowsily, "I need to finish the draft of the Sawyer plans."

Rafe kissed her hair. "Nap first, architect later."

"Deal," she murmured.

He petted her until she fell asleep then followed her over, knowing she'd be waiting in his dreams.