CHAPTER EIGHT
Amy Lynn
It was Sunday, and I didn’t want to leave Brock. After making love most of the morning, we played chess in the afternoon, made grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch. and then sat out on the deck drinking wine while watching two eagles overhead. I’d never felt happier or so deliriously at ease with anyone since my mother passed away. Now I understood. About my parents. About their love. I knew what I was missing from my life too yet I hadn’t known it until this weekend. It was Brock. Just Brock.
After gloating over the last move he’d just made, he turned to me and said, “Want to go shopping?”
“What?”
“Shopping. You know like real people, not sex crazed animals.” He winked at me and I captured his queen, “Check Mate! And I am not a sex crazed animal.”
He laughed. “Okay, maybe that was me. Well, do you want to? I mean we can go back to bed if you want. No complaints from this sex crazed animal.”
“Oh no. Not this soon. I still can’t walk after that last time.”
He gave me a sexy wink. “No problem. I guess I’ll have to start carrying you.”
He rose from his chair and came around to the other side of mine. I half expected him to sweep me up in his arms and carry me off upstairs right then, but he didn’t. Instead he bent down and kissed me. “You sure,” he growled, nibbling behind my ear. My eyes closed over. “Um…” But then he stood. “No really, let’s go. I haven’t been into town in ages. There’s this little gift shop I want to show you and its open today. They have a florist in the back. Most places are closed but not the Brawny Bear.”
I laughed. “The Brawny Bear? Are you the one who inspired the name?” I teased.
A tremendous roar thundered from his chest as he hurled his arms toward me in mock attack.
“Okay,” I said. “ I’m game if you are. Let’s go.”
“Let me just get my car keys and lock up.”
I watched him sashay back into the house, loving how his buttocks barely flexed inside his jeans, the confident steps of his stride. This was a man who took control, a man who could be a beast in the sack which also made him relentless in his profession. I didn’t doubt that in a dangerous or hostile situation—Brock was the type of man who never gave up until the job was complete. On the whole that was a good thing, a commendable asset in anyone who was a fireman, but something inside me, niggled at my nerves. I pushed the thoughts of his safety or lack thereof out of my head. For now.
A few minutes later, Brock returned wearing a Dallas Cowboys football cap and a short-sleeved navy shirt that showed up his magnificent biceps. He opened my side door and we got into the Escalade. Soon we were careening down the mountain at record speed hitting every bump and pothole in the dirt road like we were a couple of kids. It was clear he liked speed and wasn’t concerned about the car.
“Um can I ask you something?”
“What’s that, baby girl?” He gave me knee a fond squeeze.
“Why did you lock the door? I mean, I don’t see another house for miles up here. How could anyone possibly break in?”
His lips thinned at my question. “I’m …careful. That’s all. It’s who I am I guess.”
“All right. I guess I would be too if I had all that to lose. I really like the house.”
“I’m glad.”
“The one you grew up in? What was that like?”
“Nothing special. Just your average penthouse.”
Holy crap on a cracker!
It was a beautiful day, the sun reflecting off the hills, the trees balanced by shades of green, ivory, and grey houses, most of them very close to the dirt road. As we came around a bend, he threw his arm across my chest and I plunged forward. We skidded to a stop, the tires sliding along the gravel and my head just missed the dash. I gasped, my heart thudding wildly.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.” I rubbed my head.
“Look.”
Seconds later, a doe and two fawns crossed the road in front of us. “How did you…?”
“I guess you missed the one peering through the bushes. When there is one there’s usually more.”
“Wow. I guess we really are in the country now,” I said.
“Yup, you have to be on your guard out here.” Sure enough, a half dozen more deer crossed our paths before we reached the bottom of the mountain making me grateful that I wasn’t the one driving. I probably would have crushed Bambi all over the road.
Twenty minutes later, we pulled up to a quaint little gift shop and stopped the car. Brock went around to my side and opened my door. He made a sweeping motion. “After you…”
I didn’t like shopping all that much but I loved browsing in places like this. ‘The Brawny Bear’ was written across the top of a large plate glass window. Bright foil-covered pots filled with hydrangeas, Gerber daisies, and a few exotic lily varieties flanked both sides of the entryway. A purple Mexican sage bush greeted me inside the door.
“Mrs. Golisono…” Brock echoed from behind.
A lady with pale grey hair and a green and white apron came out from a back room. She was holding some potted ferns.
“Brock?” she said, her eyes wide with speculation. “Brock Fitzgerald, is it really you?”
“The one and only.”
“Why I haven’t seen you since you were a teenager. What a nice surprise.” She placed the fern on a table next to cutting sheers and coiled twine, and then eyed me suspiciously but didn’t make any effort to greet me or shake my hand. “Come here boy,” she said wrapped her massive arms around Brock’s hulking body. I laughed when I saw her kiss him repeatedly on the cheek. On tiptoe. I was surprised to see my all-powerful fireman blush scarlet red.
“Stand back. Let me look at you,” said the woman. Her voice trailed off and her eyes grew sad as she let him out of her embrace and the two stared at each other as if they had some sordid secret between them. “I haven’t seen you since, since…” An uncomfortable silence hung in the air as I just stood there like an idiot. An outsider looking in.
“No. On second thought, it was your college graduation.,” she said brightly. “That must have been what… ?”
“Longer than I care to admit,” Brock said with a chuckle.
She took off her apron and set it on a table. “I was just freshening up these flowers,” she said as if we’d asked her what she’d been doing. “You know I swear you haven’t changed, Brock Fitzgerald. Not one bit. Now you tell me what kind of magic serum you’re drinking and I’ll put it up for sale right here in my store.” She slapped a hand down on the counter. “We’ll make a fortune you and I.”
Brock laughed. “If only….”
“So what have you been up to?” she asked. “Big time lawyer or investment broker?”
“Nothing as exciting as that,” Brock said, but he didn’t elaborate. It was clear he had other things on his mind, thank god. I didn’t know what to say so I said nothing. I was a little on the shy side but part of me wanted to ask what Brock was like as a little boy. Maybe I could save that for another day.
“Listen,” said Brock, rescuing me in the nick of time. “Do you still carry those quilts? You know, the ones made by the Amish. I remember you used to have a whole room upstairs….”
“Oh god, yes. They’re my most popular items this time of year. I sell at least fifty every Christmas.”
“Great. And the room…” His gaze lifted upwards scanning the wooden beams that echoed the floor below.
“Right where it always was,” she said. “Follow me.” As Mrs. Golisono lead us up the old creaky stairs in the back of the store, I found myself wondering what she was thinking. Several times she stared at me, threatened to open her mouth but then shut it quickly. Obviously she was trying to figure out my relationship with Brock who hadn’t introduced me up to this point. I was starting to feel uncomfortable. And not only because of Mrs. Golisono. Why hadn’t Brock introduced me? Was it because this was only a fling and he didn’t want us getting too cozy with one another?
“Here we are,” the older woman crooned. The entire room was covered in quilts or hung on clothes lines. “The twins are folded near that wall, the kings and queens just about everywhere else.”
“Huh?”
“The size of the beds, dear,” the older woman said, speaking to me for the very first time.
The quilts were absolutely breathtaking. I scanned the area, taking in the bright and muted colors, geometric shapes, and tiny squares. Everywhere I looked had been touched by an Amish family. Big happy congenial families that worked together for the common good consisting of mother, grandmothers and aunts, a people who shared in everything and anything. I remembered a movie once where the little ones sat on the floor beneath the quilt frame, passing the needle up through the fabric. I fingered one of the quilts thinking how much my mother would have loved one. She’s always sewed when I was a little girl but told me she had no patience for quilt making, though she admired women who did.
“Now I can’t boast that they were all made from the Amish because some of these have gone on to get awards but as you know the Amish would think of that as boasting. Against their religion and all that.”
I had no idea what she was talking about but it didn’t matter. The quilts were still beautiful. No matter who made them. There were so many designs, so many colors, my head was swirling with desire for one. The twin sized quilts were folded neatly in boxes against the wall but the larger ones strung from wall to wall. They created partitions, like rooms inside themselves. I felt like I was in a cocoon.
“Gonna take awhile to pick one out,” Brock said over his shoulder.
“Sure, sure. I’ll just leave you and your daughter to get lost in here for a bit.”
Daughter? No wonder she was so quiet.
Brock stiffened at her words. He ducked his head beneath a quilt, chuckling to himself. “They’re pretty spectacular aren’t they? Pick out your favorite, baby girl.” I was glad he had relaxed but I wished he hadn’t called me that when he could possibly be overheard.
“I’ve never seen anything so beautiful,” I gushed. I slid my fingers along a stunning geometric one, the fabric of red, blue, and yellow hexagons on a background of white with olive leaves.“They’re all so beautiful. I simply can’t choose.” My fingers brushed along the tiny threads noting how perfectly spaced they were.
Brock came up behind me smelling of pine and musk. “Mmmm.” I leaned in as strong arms curled around my waist. “Try,” he said in that gruff no nonsense voice of his that was barely above a whisper. “I want to see you wrapped in one of these and then I want to spread you out on it. Naked.”
My heart did a little flip. Warm craving throbbed between my legs.
“Would you like that?” he asked. Thick fingers slipped inside the front of my pants. They grazing the silky hairs there. “What? Not here, surely?”
“Why not?” His other hand snaked around and slipped beneath my blouse. Gripping my bra and shirt, he pushed it up. All the way to my chin!
“What are you doing?” I squeaked.
“A little appetizer before the main course. He breathed into my neck murmuring other things he wanted to do to me as I sucked in a lungful of air, my nipples sharpening to hard points. “Oh god.” When he took one of my breasts in his mouth I knew it was all over.
I feigned to stop him but my heart wasn’t in it. I was weak. So weak the word ‘slut’ came to mind. Desperate to regain some sort of control I made to push his head away and pull down my shirt, but his hands were already inside my panties groping. When the hell had he unzipped my pants? “Brock, we can’t…oh god.”
“So wet for me. Always so fucking wet,” he growled.
I spread my legs wide, giving him more access. “What if…What if she comes back?”
“Who?” he growled finding the bundle of nerves inside my core and circling it. I thrashed against his fingers, thinking how brazen I’d become and how I loved it. Fucking loved it.
“You strike me as a woman who likes a little danger,” he whispered. Turning my head, he tried to kiss me, but he could only reach my neck. I shivered when his tongue nipped my ear feeling the endorphins skimming across my skin. “We’re alone. Do you want to? Do you want to play, baby girl? Do you want me to fuck you on one of these quilts? Make you scream my name while you come for me? Drive my cock inside that tight little pussy?”
I moaned, unable to speak. When he talked that way, all dirty and possessive, I couldn’t even talk coherently. All I could do was…feel.
I did. Just being near him, smelling his male skin, feeling his hands on me, had me so fucking horny I had been wondering how I was going to keep it together long enough to get home and into a proper bed.
Eventually, he turned around and let me kiss him. I focused on his face, the liquid heat inside his eyes, the beat of his heart, the confident smirk upon his lips and I knew. I couldn’t resist him and never would but… “Here?” He pulled me into a rich delicious kiss that had me reeling so hard and so fast it took my breath right away.
“Here...”
Breathless, I swallowed, making up my mind. “We just have to be…oh god.”
Still palming his erection, I writhed against his finger—first one and then two as they twiddled around my core and the world started to spin. God, his hands were amazing. I wanted them everywhere on my body and never on anyone else. Feeling heady with excitement, I reached down. When I felt the bulge inside his pants growing harder between us, it only made me want him more.
Falling against the wall, a set of boxes toppled over. “Whoops.” We both paused, not breathing as we waited for rushing feet. If that didn’t send the old lady running up the stairs, nothing would. Brock could have cared less though. The heat in his eyes as he glanced from me to the pillows left no doubt in my mind, he was serious about what he wanted to do to me. “It’s a sign,” he said gruffly. “We’ll need this too.” Yanking one of the quilts off a rack and laying it on the floor, he gently laid me down on it.
“Perfect,” he said, laying down next to me. “I think we need to try one of these out. You know? To see if we fit right on it.”
No longer in charge of my own body, my mind, or even my common sense I went with the feeling. The urges. His hot tongue inside my mouth. The way his fingers grazed my sex. It was naughty. Oh so naughty but that made it more exciting. The thought of getting caught fucking each other in a bunch of quilts sent electric shocks skipping along my skin. I knew we should stop, try and control ourselves. After all, we weren’t a couple of teenagers. But I couldn’t. I was too excited. Like sneaking into the circus in the middle of the day. “We shouldn’t.”
“We should.” I heard the faint pop of the snap of a waistband and the zipper of his trousers, the jingling of his belt buckle clunked along the floor, replaced moments later by a cock against my leg. I was beyond giddy. Beyond stopping this. I’d never dreamed of anything so scandalous but here I was. About to screw in a little country gift shop frequented by tourists. What the hell was I doing? man doing to me? It was wild and I loved it.
I lost all judgment and I didn’t care if we got caught. In fact, I would have smiled and told Mrs. Whatever her name was that she should go away until we finished. I wasn’t the one in charge. Brock was and I loved what he was doing to me. Now.
He covered me with his body. “This one pretty enough for you, baby girl?” He swept a strand of hair away from the side of my face. I gazed up into those dangerous brown eyes, the rugged shape of his head, his strong full lips, realizing I was trusting him. Trusting him when I probably shouldn’t have. “Mmmm, yes,” I breathed.
“Good. Because we might get it a little dirty.”
No shit!
He ran a finger down the side of my face lingering on my lips and then down across my breasts. I hadn’t bothered to pull my blouse down. “You’re so fucking hot, baby. Ever since I laid eyes on you, I’ve thought of nothing else. You’re driving me insane.”
I’m driving him insane?
In a flash, he ripped down my yoga pants as far as they would go. “Lift your bum, baby,” he whispered into my hair, his wet breath sending tingles along my scalp. “I’ll be quick so don’t worry.” I lifted and he pulled my pants down to my ankles. I felt exhilarated and frightened all at once but all I could think was having his cock inside me.
It was rather dim on the second floor but my eyes had adjusted. A deep primal emotion stirred in Brock’s amber eyes as his gaze traveled the length of my half-naked body. He grinned and then took out his rock hard cock. Like a wild animal, he speared me making me gasp. No kissing. No taking his time. Part of me loved it and the other…well I still hoped we’d not get caught. I tilted my hips, giving him more depth and he growled in my ear, gratified. He began to move at a frantic pace, a man possessed, buried tip to route, the old floorboards of the floor thumping lightly.
Caged inside his biceps, I felt like he was laying claim to my body. Again. Marking me somehow and I wondered if the old lady would be able to tell just by looking at me when we finally limped out of here.
He reached beneath, ran a finger along my slick clit and kissed me as his body slowed shivering above me as his body started to pulse As my own body climbed into orgasm, a frigid blast of cool air from one of the quilts stirred overhead. I wasn’t even sure if I’d heard them at first. They were just a blip in my far-off hearing muddled by my passion. Then I did and my breath hitched. “Brock,” I whispered but it came out like squeal as I writhed against his finger.
Completely covering my body, as if in protection, he put a finger to my lips. “Quiet, baby girl.” He didn’t slow but thank god kept that finger going in circles, the bundle of nerves that made my head spin, taking control of my emotions. I knew I should make him stop. Pull my pants up at least. But I couldn’t. When I started to cry out in ecstasy, he covered my mouth with his own, driving his tongue deep inside it. Tasting my desire.
Almost there. Almost fucking there!
Voices. “I told you, we can’t spend that kind of money right now. Oh!”
Shit!
I gasped and then held my breath as my body started to convulse with my orgasm. Retreating steps and then giggles but none of it deterred Brock’s pace. His breathing erratic, it wasn’t long before he sounded like he was coming too. Honestly, I thought he had but what did I know? My experience was limited. A few more hot thrusts and he filled me to the brim. Hot cum leaked out as he pulled his spent cock out of me. I looked up at him, grinning and surprised. “Oh my god. That was fucking incredible.”
“You’re not so bad yourself,” he said smiling like a proud peacock.
“You are insatiable. You know that don’t you?”
“You made me this way, baby.”
I laughed. “Did I?” I fluttered my eyes at him. “Let’s get out here. I think we used up our brownie points. “
“Are you sure,” he asked tickling me between the legs.
“ Yes.”
“You got it, sweetness.” He leaned down, moved a stand of hair behind my ear before planting a slow warm kiss upon my lips. He helped me to my feet and I pulled up my pants. “This the right one?” he asked, dragging the quilt into a bunch with his massive hands.
“Oh yeah,” I said. “I’m going to name it our memory quilt. Our children will never believe we had sex in a public place. We can embarrass them when they’re teenagers.” Brock frowned, although it could be I imagined it.