Paying Her Dues

I make it out of the guest bedroom, but I’m so nervous, so scared that he’ll catch me that I take a right instead a left, and before I know it, I’m in the master bedroom.

I circle around to the other side of the master bedroom, and he circles the bed, too.

“How dare you fucking run from me.”

Oh god. The tone of his voice. So intense. So scary. So hot. It makes a rush of wetness spill from between my pussy and I feel the hot moisture against my thighs. I lock eyes with Mike and fake him out to the left.

He falls for it, trying to grab me, but I go right, and book it out of the bedroom and into his big master closet. I can hear his footsteps behind me, heavy and serious, but I manage to get myself hidden in the back, in and amongst his clothes, hidden behind dark fabric that smells like danger and power.

I will myself to be calm and still. All these years of performing, of being watched, of controlling my nerves, it finally pays off. I still my breathing and slow my heart, letting myself focus on the coolness of his shirts against my cheeks.

“What the fuck, Jess,” he growls. I see him from between two long sleeved blue shirts. I press my butt up against the back wall of the closet, tucking my hands behind me, focusing on way the wall feels cool against my fingertips. “You know I’m going to find you. You know how this ends.”

Do I, though? Do I? I’m in a house alone with a man that I want so much that I can barely see straight. A man who is not only like a surrogate dad to me but who is also my best friend’s dad. A man whose body, whose face, whose scent has haunted my dreams for months.

So do I know how this ends?

I don’t have a stinking clue.

But my body certainly wants to find out. And so does my heart.

Footsteps closer now. His breathing, measured and intense. Even though I can’t see him, I can feel his power, feel his strength, coming off him like heat. The scratch of metal hangers on the hanger rod. Closer. And closer. I hold my breath. I close my eyes. I stop my breathing.

And then, when he checks the other side of the closet, I bolt back out the door.

Around the corner. Down the steps.

The rush of the chase taking on a life of it’s own.

The house that I know as well as my own becomes a fuzzy blur. Carpet on my feet. Now tile. Now wood. Now out the back door, the feel of the patio stones on my bare feet, the dew of the grass kissing my ankles.

Running. Running. Breaths are burning now. A hitch in my side as I will my feet to go further.

Then, a strong arm whips around my waist, now a stumble, and whump, I’m down. I land face-first in the dewy grass, gasping for air. My body panics, screams out in worry.

I cannot breathe, I cannot breathe.

But I remember this feeling, from horseback riding. I’ve been winded, that’s all, and I force myself to suck in a breath.

Strong hands on my ankles, pulling me, dragging me, taking me. I squirm and kick to get away, and dig my fingers into the roots of the grass, trying to claw my way away.

He flips me over, straddling me, one hand to my throat. He’s wearing gym shorts, and I feel his erection pushing hard into my belly, through my little “STRINGS ATTACHED!” youth symphony tank top.

“Fuck you, you little tease.”

The words are hard and demanding, but the tone—it’s hot caramel on an ice cream sundae melting my creamy center.

I watch him, with my chest heaving, with my tits almost spilling out. His eyes flash down at my hard nipples and I feel his cock twitch against me.

Lord have mercy on me and Mike Hawthorne.

The temperature my body starts to rise, rise, rise, radiating out from my pussy, like a sunburst, like an explosion. And as the heat rises, so does my desire. I’ve never wanted anything so much as I want him.

“You terrify me.”

“So do you,” he growls. He sounds angry about it. Angry enough that I can’t look away. “You and me. That’s what I need, Jess. You’re all I fucking need. All I fucking want.”

He unpins me a little, shifting his weight. I feel the blades of grass tickle the back of my neck as he pushes my legs back slightly. Now I feel his erection against the wet spot that my pussy has left in my boxers.