She closed her well-worn copy of The Bible, placing it on her nightstand, where it always sat. She brought her hand up to her collarbone, zipping her crucifix back and forth along its thin gold chain. He should be here by now. He had been very clear to tell her that he would be over by sundown, which had been almost an hour ago.
She took a deep breath, allowing her annoyance to dissolve. The blonde had become quite proud of how much more forgiving she had become about his idiosyncrasies. It had taken some time to get to this point, many occasions where she would lose her temper. Now, whenever she would get huffy, it was for a a completely different purpose, to see that intensity flicker in his eyes.
The diminutive woman flipped on the small television she kept on her dresser. That too had been an involved debate, resulting in arguing, which, like usual, resulted in adult activity. Changing the channels, she stopped on ‘Sleepless in Seattle’. This had always been one of her favorite movies. She enjoyed any kind of movie where the couple didn’t immediately fornicate all over the place. Except for the brat of a kid, this film was quite acceptable.
The spiritual blonde laid back on her pillows, a pale shade of yellow that matched her sheets, and closed her eyes, thinking back to this afternoon. There had been a moment, in the parking lot earlier when she’d felt an irrational fire in her belly, unexpected in its power. Even more unexpected was the origin. Usually, she was not one to experience this kind of fervor, it had shocked her, but she’d been careful to hold onto the feeling for the rest of the day. Her eyes drifted shut.
She glanced up, shading her eyes with one hand. Much longer standing out here in this harsh sunlight, and she was going to have to apply sun tan lotion. She had very sensitive alabaster skin.
“See the castle?” He asked from her side. She shook her head, not tearing her eyes away from her idiotic boss, who was standing on the roof. “It’s like being at the circus,” he continued.
“Everyday here is like being at a circus,” she shot back flatly, hoping her dull tone would discourage him from speaking to her any more. He chuckled, and she felt his arm brush against hers ever so slightly. The crackle of electricity startled her, and she turned toward him suddenly, looking up into his vivid eyes.
“You want to see the castle?” he persisted, cocking his head toward the large inflatable contraption. Transfixed, she nodded. He stepped past her, letting his scent settle over her. She glanced around covertly before following him around the wall and into the shadow. Her eyes traveled down his form, watching as his leg muscles worked under the fabric of his dress pants.
One small hand slid down the front of her cotton shirt, skimming across her flat stomach and hovering near her belly button. She caressed her abdomen gently before dancing lower to the waistband of her flannel pajama pants.
“Here,” he said, lowering himself to one knee in front of her. “You need to take your shoes off, those are the rules.” She allowed him to slip one of her pumps off her tiny foot. After all, she had always been a stickler for rules. Steadying herself by grasping his shoulders, she glanced down and watched as he slid the other shoe off her foot. He allowed one hand to glide up her hose-covered calf, looking up at her under lowered lashes. “There, better?” She merely nodded, not trusting her voice.
She bit her lip nervously, allowing her eyes to flutter open for a second. Tom Hanks was talking about how much he loved his wife to the lady on the radio. Shutting her eyes again, she stuck her index finger just under the edge of her waistband.
He stood swiftly and kissed her deeply, his tongue probing hers. She gave back in full, losing her fingers in the hair at his collar. Strong hands roamed down her back, pulling her impossibly closer. She felt a hardness press against her stomach and shuddered.
By now, her entire hand had slid inside her undergarments, inching closer and closer to where she wanted it. Fingers wove through wiry hair and into a sort of silky wetness that surprised her every time. Not that she did this often.
“Get in,” he ordered gruffly, the color of his eyes piercing into her. Mindlessly, she slid the zipper up quickly, clambering inside on all fours. He pounced on her from behind, sending her airborne for a moment. She let out an involuntary squeal and turned, allowing him to climb on top of her. One strong knee settled between her legs, and she felt heat filling her belly. Nimble fingers pulled her shirt up over her head and tossed it into the corner of the inflatable party equipment. He ripped at her bra, pulling the cups down and taking a nipple into his mouth, teeth grazing the small nub. He covered her other breast with his hand, massaging it roughly.
A small moan escaped her lips, and her head lolled to the side. She let a finger drift down to her opening, and then back up toward the small bundle of nerves she most wanted to touch.
Her panty hose were torn from her body and discarded somewhere behind her, followed by her panties, wet from anticipation. Two fingers slid inside of her immediately, pumping her slowly. She wriggled her pelvis toward him, working her shirt up around her waist. She groaned out his name and he growled at her, lowering his face to the area he was working in. His tongue came out, lapping at her hungrily before taking over the job his fingers were doing. He thrust into her two times. His hand, still covered in her juices came up and tweaked her already wet nipple.
She let her index finger circle the bud slowly, building up the sweet pressure in her stomach. She groaned louder, the sound filling her small bedroom. She moved her hand faster, rounding the miniscule muscle, speeding up little by little.
She called his name and he lifted his head, looking at her with an expression that she would almost describe as feral. “Now.” He moved back up her body quickly, her hands already working at his belt. She opened his fly, unzipping enough to reach into his boxers. When she wrapped her hand around him, he hissed, arching his back. Digging his fingers into her hips, he flipped her onto her stomach quickly. One arm reached underneath her, pulling her back against him. She whimpered. His pants and boxers were shoved down to his knees. Her skirt was hiked up over her bottom, and the next thing she knew, he was inside her, plunging in from behind. She moaned at the intrusion, grinding herself back against him. His tie lay across her back, the silk tickling slightly. Pump one, two, three, hard and fast. He reached one hand around, rubbing her clit between his thumb and forefinger. She felt herself reaching the peak. She called out his name hoarsely.
“Ryan!”
She felt the fog lift from around her and opened her eyes. Her small hand came out of her pants and she wrinkled her nose at the smell that covered her sticky fingers.
“Monkey?” Dwight called out, entering her house with the key she’d given him some time ago. Angela scrambled out of bed quickly, smoothing her shirt down self-consciously. He entered the bedroom a moment later. “Hi,” he said, a small smile on his face.
“I need to shower!” she blurted out, practically running toward her bathroom. She shut the door quickly, leaving the confused beet farmer alone in the bedroom with Meg Ryan.
