Chapter 9 - Lacy
It wouldn’t have taken much more to convince me to drop my clothes and spread myself open across his bed, even if it was nothing more than a pile of blankets at the moment. A pile of blankets could be very cozy with the right partner, and God knows what Riker had between his legs felt right to me. Although I had to admit that when I felt him probing me from behind, it scared me a little too. I wasn’t terribly experienced, and the sheer size of that man, in every aspect, was intimidating.
I drove back to the cottage slowly, circling blocks and driving along the lakeshore. I felt self-contained in my own little world of fantasy, and I knew that as soon as I reached the cottage, the bubble would break and real life would return. I wanted to stay in that fantasy world, where Riker towered over me, his muscled chest and torso covered with tats that read like a romance novel. In my dream, I unfastened his belt, slowly sliding it out of the way as I opened the button of his fly and lowered the zipper. I reached in and wrapped my hand around his girth, which was too big to allow my fingertips to meet. My fantasy was so real that I felt my juices gushing out of my pussy and making my panties wet. Even though it was cool outside, I rolled the windows down and let the air buffet me. It was difficult to breathe.
I had to force him out of my brain or I’d never sleep that night. Riker was everything I’d ever dreamed of as a young girl who read romance novels about men who carried swords and defended their fair ladies on the cobblestone streets of London as they dueled the enemy. I could picture him, those broad shoulders stretching a cape wide as his sword flashed in the lamplight and caused his ruby pinkie ring to sparkle like crimson fire. I was his lady and he was fighting for my honor.
Jesus, I have to stop thinking like this. I was letting romantic fantasies take control. When I made it back to the cottage, it was dark. I hadn’t thought ahead to leave a light burning, and I made my way into the bedroom without turning one on. I hoped I could keep the fantasy alive in my head long enough for me to fall asleep. I was sure my dreams would be of Riker and that flashing ruby ring.
When I awakened the next morning, my hand was lying on my pussy. I lifted my hips to feel the pressure as they touched one another, but I knew that Melanie would be there soon. I had to get out of that mode. I threw on a heavy robe and hit the shower, emerging just as she walked in the door. Riker was right behind her.
“Hi,” I said in general. It seemed safer that way.
They both nodded. “I’ve got work to do in the crawlspace,” Riker said curtly, his eyes glancing at me quickly for a reaction. I purposefully wouldn’t look at him straight on. He turned and left the room hurriedly while Melanie sauntered over to the kitchen counter and began making coffee. I was sure she sensed that something had happened, but she wasn’t quite sure what. You could smell the scent of attraction between Riker and myself.
Now, in the bright light of day, I felt some surprise that Riker had made those moves. I didn’t think I was his type, although I really couldn’t say what his type might be. Maybe it was more that I felt he could do better than me. Why was I doing that to myself? He was obviously attracted to me, right?
“Something going on?” Melanie asked, her tone suggesting that she was digging for weakness.
“No, should it be?” I was trying to stay ahead of her and not let on to what my brain had already succumbed to. “Did you finish that chest of drawers?”
She wasn’t to be deterred. “I’ve seen a hundred men like him, you know. They only want to get in your pants and then they’re gone, just like that.” She snapped her fingers in emphasis.
“A hundred of them, huh? You’ve been a busy girl.” We were circling verbally, testing our swords against one another’s defenses.
She went on. “He’s not all that bright. I figure he’s got something in his past that’s pretty dark, or he wouldn’t be bent on saving the world from juvenile rejects.”
“Don’t you think you’re being a little judgmental? I happen to think he’s brighter than either one of us, and the fact that he’s willing to dedicate time to helping troubled youths says a lot about his character. But then, we each have different perspectives, don’t we, Melanie?”
She was pouring coffee into a mug, sipping it thoughtfully. I knew she was planning her strategy, and that it was twofold. On one hand she wanted to be the girl who got the guy. It was the way she operated, and it galled her to think that someone might prefer my company over hers. At the same time, she was all about competitive. At some point in the future, she’d set up shop across the street and try to take me out. I wasn’t afraid of her; I’d be too far ahead of her. She’d never catch up. But in the meantime, I would do what I could to foil her plans.
“Why don’t you get on that chest of drawers? I’ve got a list of things for you to pick up for me from town later. When you’re done with the chest, check in with me and I’ll give you the list.” I used a dismissive tone of voice intentionally, and I could almost see her lip rising in a snarl as she passed me on her way out to the deck. Just before she shut the door, I heard a crash and swung about to see the coffee mug in splitters across the floor.
“Oops,” she said coolly. “I’ll clean that up a little later.” As an afterthought she added, “If you’re thinking about shacking up with tool boy there, you’d better plan on getting fucked and dropped. He’s certainly not going to spend any time with you long term. As soon as you’re done paying him, he’s out of here. I mean, after all, you’re not really his type.” Then she was out the door, slamming it behind herself.
God, but I hated drama. I felt like Melanie had just stabbed me in the chest, but I had to remember that she might be making a reference to Riker’s personality more than my physique. I was naturally defensive when I felt I been put down by a skinny girl. I knew it was silly; I had no doubt that he was attracted to me, that I had much more going on for me than my weight, and that I would be a valuable companion to someone. But it still hurt when people like Melanie went on the offensive with nothing more than my weight to refer to. I had to remind myself why I wasn’t firing her. I really hated Mrs. Pettibone in that moment.