It wasn’t that farfetched that Cheri struck up a friendship with the man who had saved her. Given the fact that he didn’t want to tell her his name at first, standing where she was at this very moment, it didn’t seem in the realm of possibility. Never in her wildest dreams could nearly being robbed at gunpoint land her in coveralls, helping to restore her rescuer’s antiquated home. She would never have made such a prediction for herself. The sex was definitely part of her fantasies, though. In all honesty, as soon as she walked away from that fateful scene, after that handsome devil of a stranger gave her the kiss she didn’t ask for, sex with him was the very next thought on her mind. She wasn’t going to lie. She’d thought about it, dreamt about it, wished about it.
Then after their wakeful night filled with athletic sex, a couple of English muffins, a little yogurt, and some really good coffee, they suited up for construction work. The first job was a room in the turret of the house, a sweeping, romantic space, almost round, with windows on every wall. Cheri couldn’t help but feel a little envious of his lovely home. She was grateful for her place, but his was a true work of art, and it was going to be spectacular once he was finished. Unfortunately, the presence of so many windows made her nervous. The storm was fierce on the other side of the glass, and the half-remembered warnings about windows and hurricanes swam through her head.
“Are you sure it’s safe?” she asked timidly. “The storm’s pretty bad out yonder,” she said, instantly realizing she sounded like a hick, with that Southern accent seeping through quite strongly.
“Out yonder?” He smiled. “You sound like you oughtta be asking me to sit a spell for a bit of peach pie,” he teased.
Cheri squirmed with embarrassment, vulnerability, or a little of both. She was beginning to believe Thomas could read her mind, but she didn’t know if he was smiling at her question or just the way she’d said it.
“I wouldn’t let either of us be here if we weren’t safe,” he said.
“Okay,” she answered, not quite believing him.
“Is there some Virginia wisdom I should be privy to?” he asked, his voice flirtations.
“Yes.”
“And what’s that?”
“It’s not easy to get a lot of work done when the laborer can’t keep her eyes or hands off the foreman,” she bravely and honestly observed.
“Well, we have to, Miss Sheets on Fire. I’ve got an inspector coming Monday.”
The room was empty, except for a ladder and a few tools. Beneath the lowered ceilings Thomas looked tall, literally larger than life, and Cheri felt a rush of desire for him. The chemistry flowed through her like a current, and their passion inflamed her. Sex was all she could think about. Having his total attention, experiencing the feel of his magnificent body loomed in the center of her brain, rendering her useless to do anything productive.
“Ya know, I think you’re right,” he rasped, staring at her. “I think today’s work is a scratch.” He spun her around and pressed her palms against the unfinished dry wall. He stripped her out of her coveralls in one quick flourish, then braced her at the waist with his powerful arm. Cheri cried out as he entered her, quickly and roughly. He responded by clamping down on the base of her neck, aggravating her arousal till she was bucking wildly against him. The way he held her, Thomas could control her rhythm and pace. His strong hands commanded her hips and swiveled her around masterfully.
It was pure sugar for her mind and body. It turned her on to be slightly dominated, and she eagerly gave herself over to him. Cheri released herself to his command, willing to see how far he could take her. He was the quintessential figure for fantasy, a perfect physical specimen, with intense sexual allure. He was also right. There was something very naughty about having sex amidst a mess of construction tools, in paint-splattered work clothes.
He pulled out of her and turned her to face him. “I need to kiss you,” he said huskily.
Before she could offer consent or protest, he took her mouth and forced her legs wider apart with a blunt sweep of his feet. The move released a shot of adrenaline through Cheri, sending her sexual sensation to the edge. She couldn’t have been more turned on, so sexually drugged that she could barely maintain any presence of mind.
He entered her again, and she drew her knee up so she was standing one leg. The tension she created from that position gave pleasure to them both. Thomas growled as the wind whipped the rain against the window adjacent them. Cheri cried out with a start as her body surged with their shared excitement. She reached between them to touch herself, but he moved her hand away.
“No,” he said, “not yet.”
She rolled her eyes, not sure if she would be able to hold off. Everything in her screamed with the need of release. She rocked her pelvis up toward him, fiercely exorcising her urge while Thomas’s thrusts were a merciless, steady rhythm. She was sure he would hold out forever, but she simply couldn’t. His focus, unlike hers, was unswerving. He kissed her, taking ownership of her mouth with dominating strides of his tongue.
Cheri responded in kind, seeking, searching, exploring, and tasting while he drove into her. She cupped her breast and kneaded it. Through heavy, drooped lids, she spied his hazel eyes, like glowing amber, glued to the sight of her, just watching as she pleasured herself. That was all he needed to send him into a crazed chase for climax.
He roughly took her hand and placed it back between them. It only took a little effort to make her body lock on to the sweet path to ecstasy. She felt her breath climb, and the cries built in her chest until she thought she would explode in an ocean of noise and breathing.
Thomas’s body stiffened, and his strokes became more labored as he struggled to move in and out of her body. It seemed they were struck simultaneously, both exploding, writhing, and pulsing as the storm surged outside.
It was hard to separate the racket of the hurricane from the noise of their rapture. At once the room was very, very loud, but it was also magical and sweet. Somewhere in her mind, Cheri found clarity while her body pulsed around Thomas’s luscious length. In the archives of her memory, she logged that moment as one of the most romantic, most passionate she had ever known.
Soon enough, their bodies wilted as their passion took its course. Once they could move normally again, Thomas impulsively grabbed her hand and led the two of them, completely naked, to his back door, out to his fenced-in patio. The rain beat down on the earth, and the wind forced Cheri to focus on balance, but it was clear that Thomas wanted the two of them to step outside in the dangerous weather, a strange urge. As strange as it was, though, Cheri was willing to comply.
The rain washed the sweat and passion from their bodies as they kissed with all the intensity and power of Mother Nature’s raging weather around them. It was a scary moment for Cheri, but she wouldn’t have missed it for the world.
Despite the cooling rain, their passion sparked again. They were engulfed and quickly joined, their hips hammering into each other in ancient rhythm, making that ancient climb. It was erotic, making love to Thomas in the rain and, prior to that natural rendezvous, Cheri had no idea she could be so limber and nimble. She had managed to unearth many of her unknown talents since taking refuge in Thomas’s house and in his arms.
A rumble of thunder was their cue to break and, giggling, they quickly retreated into the kitchen, their bodies slick with water. Thomas grabbed a kitchen towel to mop them off temporarily, then led her to a half-completed bathroom with a sunken tub.
“Claw-foot?” she remarked. “Nice.”
“Yeah, a true luxury,” he said, still chuckling.
“Isn’t it dangerous to take a bath during lightning?” she asked, pulling back from him a bit.
He studied her with amusement. “I can see we’re gonna have to work on this,” he said, “but, yes, the one about taking baths during a storm happens to be true.”
He placed a hand towel under the faucet and ran it all over her skin. It was lusciously warm. He opened a closet stocked with towels and toiletries and wrapped her in a giant terrycloth sheet.
She returned the favor by standing courageously on a little three-legged stepstool and washing the rain off his broad, strong back. She smiled as he fastened a towel around his hips; somehow, even in a towel, nothing about him was remotely feminine.