Look Don’t Touch
"Yes, yes, please," she sighed.
Her long, supple body tensed as she heard me move to her side. I crouched down next to her and stared at the side of her face. I had already grown strangely fond of the slightly crooked bend in her nose. She kept her focus on the water swirling on the tile floor beneath us.
"See, darlin', after I licked and nibbled your clit for a good long while, bringing your pussy so close to orgasm a mere puff of air could send you over the edge, I would take hold of you, grasping you firmly to keep those shaky legs of yours from collapsing from sheer anticipation."
She closed her eyes and bit her lip as I spoke.
"I'd wait to hear the magic word," I said quietly, pushing my face so close to hers I could have touched her with my tongue. "What do you think that magic word might be?"
"Please," she said breathlessly. "Please," she repeated.
"That's it. I'd hear that magic word on those lips, those lips that would feel oh so right around my cock, and then I'd drive my cock into you again and again until that please turned into screams of pleasure."
I straightened. She whimpered softly as I walked back out of the shower. I moved confidently but every step was pure agony with my cock rigid as a steel rod. This whole damn plan might work out even better than I expected. I certainly hadn't anticipated such a challenging partner in my warped scheme.
I yanked off my wet shirt and wiped my face, confident I'd given the tempting huckster a little taste of competition. As I dried my face and arms, I heard a soft moan behind me. I turned around and squinted through the condensation on the shower. Shay was standing provocatively, leaning against the shower wall with one arm up, her hand resting on her head. Her right hand was between her legs. Her eyes were closed and her lips parted in arousal as she strummed herself to orgasm. A pink flush washed over her skin and her back arched as she cried out in ecstasy. My fists were so tight I could feel my short nails digging into my palms.
I waited for her to catch her breath. She lowered her arms and opened her brown eyes. A faint smile broke out on her face. "I don't have any habit to break, so I hope you don't mind if I finished the virtual fuck on my own."
She'd done it again, and frankly, I was fucking impressed and blown way off course.
"I don't mind at all. Just next time moan a little earlier so I can watch."
"Will do." Her eyes drifted to my naked chest. Having her brown gaze leave a hot trail from my chest down along my abs made my cock swell again. She had a way of looking at me that made me horny as hell. I'd never met anyone like her.
The bathroom walls were closing in on me and the steam felt suffocating. "I'll be back later. I'm going on a run."
"So that's how you keep that nice body," she said airily as she poured shampoo onto the palm of her hand. It seemed her tease session was over, but I'd feel the effects of it long after I walked out into the coastal breeze. "How far do you run?" she asked.
"Usually about three miles." I grabbed the door and took one last look at her standing under the water, soap bubbles rolling down her shoulder and breasts. "But today, a hundred miles."
14
A long, pounding run with music blasting in my ears and sweat dripping down my back had helped clear my head. I sat down on the sand below my pool area and watched two pelicans dive for fish while I cooled down. My phone rang. I pulled it out of my pocket.
"I'm hearing all kinds of interesting rumors about my friend, Nash," Jack spoke loudly over the clamor of music and voices.
"Where the heck are you?"
"I'm over at Pete's Pub. Climb in that turtle slow Ferrari of yours and join me for a few beers. Then you can confirm or deny the rumors."
"I'm just going to issue a blanket denial, even though I have no idea what the hell you're talking about. I just got done with my run. I'm not in the mood for a beer."
The loud music shifted to the occasional roar of a car passing by, which meant Jack had walked outside the pub. "I'm going to take your refusal to have a beer as confirmation of the rumors. You've got that hot little dancer at your place, don't you?"
I stood up and brushed the sand off my shorts. "Why do you think that?"
"Because I know you too well, buddy. Plus, it turns out we just missed each other at Fantasm last night. Rylie had to cancel our date, so I decided since I was all showered and smelling sweet as a sugar cookie, I'd head over to the strip club."
"And did you mention this to the new little woman? The strip club part not the smelling like a cookie part."
I walked to the stairs leading up to the pool area and sat on the bottom step. Guns N' Roses was thrumming out the open front window of the house. Shay must have figured out the controls to the music system.
"Rylie knows that I'm still new to this relationship thing. She gives me a lot of space. That's why it's working so well. She's independent too."
"That sounds perfect for you."
"Yep. Wait, I see how you deftly changed the subject to me. No wonder you stacked up so much money after college, you sly dog. I didn't see your car out front of Fantasm, so I decided to go inside and grab a table for us. Only I walked into a very dreary strip club. Sour, sad faces all around. A couple of the girls told me you had stopped some creep from manhandling Shay, and she quit a few hours later. I figured she quit because a certain knight in shining armor with a big bank account had talked her into his devious and totally warped plan."
"It's possible that's what transpired." I pushed my running shoes off and dumped out the sand.
"I knew it. Well, I wouldn't show my face in Fantasm anymore. Everyone pretty much hates you for taking away the best thing that's happened to that dive since it opened a million years ago."
"I figured I might be given the evil eye if I returned."
A horn blasted through the phone, and I held it away from my ear for a second. "Shit. It sounds like you're standing in the middle of the highway."
"No changing the subject this time, Archer. I'm on to you. Well . . ."
"Well what?" I headed up the steps to the house.
"What's she like? Is she as hot off stage as she is on? Is your cock already in training and standing at attention waiting to be told at ease?"
"She's nothing like I expected. And definitely yes. And absofuckinglutely yes." I walked through the gate to the pool area and stopped at the glass door leading into the house.
Shay had pulled on skimpy shorts and a midriff length t-shirt. She'd moved aside the coffee table and she was sitting, legs wide, tilting her body over in a stretch. The run had tired me out but apparently my cock had its own energy source. The sight of Shay limbering up on the living room rug had pulled my focus away from the conversation.
"Nash, hey, did I lose you?"
"Nope, I'm still here."
"Did you hear my question? Why is she nothing like you expected? And what exactly were you expecting?"
I watched her stretch one arm up high, lifting her crop top high enough to show the bottom curve of her breast. More energy pumped to my erection. "Let's just say I totally underestimated the woman and my plan."
"That's just vague enough to give me a million more questions, but I'm going back inside for another beer. Remember, if she starts asking about a pet rabbit, it's time to evict your new houseguest. Later."
"Yep, later."
I decided not to interrupt the exercise session inside. It was far too entertaining to stop. I would tell her later that I had a workout room complete with mats and state-of-the-art machines. I felt like a damn peeping Tom but then I reminded myself I was paying the woman to let me watch her. And she was worth every fucking penny.
15
Shay had spent the rest of the day reading her book and walking on the beach while I finished some work. My enthusiasm for the new company was growing, and I decided to spend some time researching a few of the new companies in outdoor gear. I also divided my massive contact list into people who I might still want to network with and people who were just taki
ng up space on the list.
A few hours of staring at the computer screen in my office and I was ready to head out and see what my tempting houseguest was up to. A hysterical scream blared out of the surround sound system as I walked down the hall.
Shay was sitting on the couch in her cut-off shorts and t-shirt, with her legs crossed kindergarten style on my couch. She was clutching a green accent pillow as she watched the horror movie she'd turned on.
"Is that pillow your shield in case that guy with the chainsaw steps out of the television?"
Shay stared down at the pillow and laughed. "I hadn't even noticed I was holding it, but I guess that's what my silly subconscious was telling me." She tossed the pillow aside and stretched out her long, sleek legs. "Come watch. I think a head is about to roll." She patted the couch cushion next to her.
I sat down but kept a cushion of space between us. It was safer that way. It seemed my plan was working. As foggy minded as I got when I was near her, I felt more focused in other aspects of my life. My business plan was coming together in my head, and I was looking forward to roaring back into the investment world again. Only this time, without someone else's name on the letterhead.
I stared at the side of her face for a minute. Her nose crinkled in distaste as blood sprayed across a white wall. "Yuck, see I told you a head would fall soon."
I glanced at the monitor and caught the last glimpse of a severed head, wide eyed in shock, rolling off camera. "I'm impressed," I said. "I don't know if I've ever sat through a horror movie where the woman was actually watching the gory scenes."
She pulled her eyes from the screen. The glow of the television made the gold specks in her eyes glitter. Or maybe I was just imagining that they were glittering because her face was always so full of life. "That makes me seem a little creepy, doesn't it?" She placed her hand over her face and spread her fingers wide enough to look through. "Is this better?"
"Sure."
"Actually, if you want to change it, I'm kind of sick of this movie. The main girl is just interminably stupid. I mean, how my times can you put yourself within seconds of being brutally murdered before you realize you're a fool?"
"They do always seem to walk right into those dark rooms without thinking about switching on a light." I lifted the remote and flicked through a few channels. I landed on a commercial about animal abuse with a dog chained up in the snow.
Shay grabbed the pillow back and pushed it over her face. "Hurry, change it before the sad song starts."
I switched to the next channel, an old black and white western.
Shay dropped the pillow. "Thank you."
I turned and rested into the corner of the couch. "You just watched a bunch of people get chopped up to pieces as if you were watching a cooking show but a dog in the snow and you covered your face?"
Her smooth brow arched and disappeared under the long fringe of bangs. "Uh, yeah. Of course. Animals are awesome. None of them deserve to suffer. Didn't you ever have a pet as a best friend?"
"No pets. I always wanted one, but I never asked or considered bringing one into our house. My dad has a cruel streak a mile wide, and like you said, none of them deserve to suffer." I hadn't planned to peel open any of the ugly aspects of my childhood, but Shay was incredibly easy to talk to.
She gazed at me now as if she was trying to untangle me, trying to figure me out, but that knot was far too tight. "That's a shame. Every kid should have a pet. We rarely lived in a place where I could have a dog, but I had Tweety, my parakeet, and then there was Tutu, my grandmother's cat, who used to curl up under the covers next to me and purr me to sleep." She turned to face me and again crossed her long legs kindergarten style. Only there was nothing kindergarten about it.
"Maybe if you had just asked your dad, he would have let you have a pet. It might have made him less cruel. Animals add joy to any house, even if it's a one room apartment with stinky carpet and plastic lawn chairs for furniture. Surely your mom was all right with it."
"No mom," I said quickly. "Just me and my old man, Attila the Hun."
I rested back and took a moment to just look at her. She was that kind of woman, the kind you could just sit and admire.
"My dad is proud of being an asshole. It's what he strives for." I stood up. "Do you want a beer?"
"Yes please."
I walked to the refrigerator and pulled out two cold beers.
She peered up at me as I handed her the bottle. She took extra care not to come too close to my fingers. "He couldn't be that bad." She rested back. "You seemed to turn out all right."
"I've learned how to seem all right. But this unusual situation must give you some clue about my true psyche." I sat down in that far away corner, wishing that I could sit right next to her and drag her into my lap.
I drank some beer, hoping to wash away the dirty thoughts that had just crept stealthily into my head. I knew the one subject that could turn me cold even with a hot woman sitting next to me. "When I was nine, I badly wanted this remote control race car I'd seen on television. I was allowed one gift for my birthday, but it had to meet with my dad's approval. The only thing I wanted was that car. I sat at school all day and daydreamed about racing that thing around the house and yard. I was obsessed with having it, so of course, Dad didn't want me to have it."
She looked at me in question.
"My dad thinks possessions make you shallow and stupid. He has mountains of money, but he rarely buys anything."
"He's partially right, but still, if I had mountains of money, I'd be buying all sorts of useless stuff." Her pink lips wrapped around the beer bottle. Her long throat moved with swallows as she drank the beer. I realized I was hyper-aware of every move she made.
"My crazy old man decided my fearsome fixation—his words—on the toy was a perfect opportunity to teach me a lesson. I woke up on my birthday, and for the first time ever, there was a gift box waiting for me that wasn't flat enough to be a shirt or a pair of underwear. It was a big chunky box wrapped in paper that had race cars on it."
"He bought you the car?" she asked excitedly.
"Before I continue, I should probably warn you that none of my life stories have a happy ending."
She slumped back. "In that case—" Again she wrapped her lips around the bottle and gulped the beer. "O.K. I'm fortified. Continue."
"I remember pulling off the shiny ribbon. My heart was racing. But I kept reminding myself that there was no way the car was under the paper. I knew he would never buy it for me. The paper ripped free. I jumped up and down, yelling and cheering, something I was never allowed to do in the house. Or anywhere near my dad, for that matter."
Shay sat forward in anticipation. "It was the car?" Then her mouth turned down in a sweet frown. "Oh my gosh, was the car box filled with underwear?"
I laughed. "Actually, I'm surprised it wasn't. It wouldn't have been nearly as cruel as what happened next."
She held up her hand for me to stop as she finished the beer. "All right. Go ahead."
"After I finished jumping around and cheering, I sat down in front of the box, ready to open it and live out my remote control race car dreams. Dad pulled his keys out of his pocket. I thought he was going to use them to cut the tape from the box. He told me to pick up the box and go out to the car. I was still in shock that he had bought me the gift, but something about the way he was acting began to worry me. I could feel the rush of excitement flowing out of me. I'd stupidly let myself believe that he had done something fatherly, something human, something that made me smile. We climbed in the car. I held that stupid box on my lap as if I was afraid it would jump out of my arms and out the window. My mind circled the possibility that he was driving me to the park so I could really race the thing. But that notion was quickly squashed when he turned the car into the Goodwill parking lot. I still remember what he said when he pulled up to the donation center. He said 'Nash, there are many kids who don't get any toys on their birthday'. And I thought—yeah, I'm one of tho
se kids. He watched and waited while I climbed out of the car. I was holding back tears, knowing that they would only get me in trouble. I walked up to the donation center and handed over my prized possession, my dream toy. I never even got to see the thing out of its box."
Shay's brown eyes looked slightly glassy as she looked at me. "I hope you don't mind me saying this, but your dad is seriously twisted. I'm glad you never had a pet."
"Yep, me too." I sucked down the rest of my beer. "That's why you can't watch a commercial with a dog shivering in the snow. You grew up with love and happiness and you learned about love and empathy."
"Hmm," she said quietly. She scooted into the corner of the couch and hugged the pillow to herself. Her gaze dropped, and she fidgeted with the tassels on the pillow. "One night, when I was twelve, I was sitting at our wobbly kitchen table doing my homework. My mom cooked up macaroni and cheese from a box while I finished my algebra. We ate it a lot. We would spice it up with a dash of hot sauce and pretend it was a gourmet meal. That night I knew my mom was in one of her dark moods. I know now that she struggled with depression, but as a kid, her dark moods meant that she didn't like to talk or laugh or get out of bed. This time the mood had stretched on for two weeks, a long time in my twelve-year-old world."
She stopped tugging on the tassels and just gripped the pillow against her. "I was so relieved when I finished the last algebra problem. I hated math. My mom walked into the kitchen. It was late fall, and she had pulled on her sweatshirt because the apartment heater had never worked right. She handed me my sweatshirt too. I didn't think anything of it until she told me to put on my shoes. We're going down to the beach, she said so quietly I was sure I'd misheard her. We'd only ever gone to the beach in summer and even that was rare." Shay's attention was temporarily pulled to the window. A moon hung low over the water, casting a yellow stripe across the ocean.