Awakened Desires (15 page)

“Transplant.”

“Right.” She reached behind us and grabbed a couple packages of food from the bag that was on the back seat. She handed me a package of Chips Ahoy—gross, over-processed, full of God-knows-what. Not something I would have chosen for myself, but it was better than nothing, I suppose.

“Thanks.” She nodded while she nibbled.

I glanced at her a few more times. She was stunning. Late thirties, maybe early forties. Wavy brown hair tightly pulled back off of her perfectly proportioned face. I saw a few silver strands peeking out through her hair. And her lips were perfectly plump, as well. Her chest was large, but not too large for her average-sized frame. With a little working out, she would be tight as fuck.

Speaking of tight and fucking, I wouldn’t have minded dipping into her. And there was J.T. twitching around in my pants again. “Shit,” I muttered.

“Huh?” She turned and looked at me.

“Oh…nothing. Just thinking.”

“About?”

Think fast, arsehole.
“Umm…well…”
Jesus Christ, say something!
I wanted to bash my head on the steering wheel. “I’m trying to figure out where we can camp out for an extended period of time. I think we would be better off in a rural area rather than suburbia.”

“I agree. If you make a right up there, you will find fewer stores and the houses are further apart as you go,” she said as she pointed out the front window.

I smiled at her. “Sounds perfect.”

I turned right when we came to the intersection. We traveled another five miles before we came to a stretch of empty fields. She had me turn down another more rural road, and we saw an old farmhouse not too far down from the main road. Not a choice spot, but we were limited. “Maybe that one is abandoned?” Quinn asked as I approached it.

“Well, I guess we will have to check it out.”

I pulled into the driveway and instructed her to stay in the truck, but keep her Sig handy. After walking around the house and peering into what windows were uncovered, I knocked on the door for good measure.

Silence. The occupants were either lurking in the shadows between life and the depths of hell, or not home. I was hoping for the latter. It was getting late and I really wanted to sleep stretched out somewhere rather than in my truck.

I picked the lock, opened the door, and cleared the house. When I went through the cabinets, they were close to empty. There were four tiny bedrooms, all with beds that were stripped down to the bare mattresses. Most of the dresser drawers were pulled out and empty.

“Thank you!” I kissed two fingers and pointed up. Not that I believed. I marched my happy achy arse back out to Quinn, who was still waiting nervously in my truck. I opened the passenger door. “It’s empty,” I said and I could see the relief course through her body. “Now we just have to hope that whoever owned it doesn’t come back. We’ll need to unload the truck.”

We worked diligently for about a half-hour and stacked the items in the room that I would be staying in, just in case someone did come back. I was a little more able-bodied than Quinn was for protecting my supplies. Or was it
our
supplies?

I grabbed us a few packages of gut-rotting food and we sat down at the table in the kitchen. I turned the chair sideways and stretched my long legs out, putting them on the chair next to me and crossing my ankles. Being so tall sucked bollocks when you were stuck behind the wheel of a vehicle.

Taking a bite from the protein bar, I was looking around the house. It was an old farmhouse. Or maybe they were just poor. The interior of the house was painted medium blue, had a chipped wood table, pale yellow cabinets, and grungy wide slat wood floors. The plaid curtains were sun-faded. Plus, all the fabric furniture and throw rugs were threadbare, and it smelled like a cat’s arse in the house. Normally, I would care, but to be able to sit down and stretch out was motherfucking amazing.

“So, where are you from?” she murmured.

Her voice pulled me away from staring at our sad surroundings. “The UK.” She smirked and shook her head. Her eyes were so bright and beautiful when she smiled. So much better than earlier when they were full of fear and sadness. “England. I was born in Germany, but right after birth, I was moved to the east end of London.”

“Why?” she asked, curiosity in her voice.

I pursed my lips.
Said too much, arsehole.
“I’d rather not talk about it.” I looked away. I didn’t want to soil her thoughts with my horrible truth.

“I can respect that. I would imagine you trust me as much as I trust you.” I nodded and looked back at her.

Her eyes were roaming around the room. I popped the last piece of protein bar in my mouth and chewed slowly, staring at Quinn. She felt me eyeing her and shot me a look.

“So…” I leaned back in the chair, my hands behind my head. “Where is your significant other?”

“Huh? How did you know?” She seemed surprised that I would be so knowledgeable. I nodded down to her hand. “Oh, right,” she whispered. She circled the thin gold band around her finger. “I’d rather not discuss it.”

“Gotcha.” I leaned forward and put my palms on the table. “Well, I’m going to lock everything up and go get some rest. I’m beat. Haven’t slept but an hour or so here and there. Make sure you lock your bedroom door and keep that Sig right next to you. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to come and get me. Knock on the wall. Yell. Whatever. I’ll keep you safe.” She nodded.

We both stood up. She watched me make sure every window and door was locked. Not that the house couldn’t be easily broken into. I had already proven that.

We headed toward our rooms, but before I shut my door, she called out, “Gunther?” I peeked my head back out. “Thank you…for saving me. I hope you sleep well.”

I smiled at her. “Thank you. You, as well,” I murmured. She closed her door and I heard the lock engage. I did the same.

I laid a couple blankets out on the bed. It was rather lumpy and dodgy-looking, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. I stripped down to my boxers and neatly folded my clothes as I was trained to do.

After I crawled into bed, I realized I was far too tall for it. From mid-calf down, I was hanging off the edge. I chuckled a little. My bed in my flat was a California King, and I still had to curl up slightly. Whatever. I wasn’t going to complain because I was stretched out instead of crammed in the truck.

I laid on my back, my hands behind my head. I thought about Quinn in the next room. Was she sleeping in the nude? In her undergarments? In just a t-shirt?

I closed my eyes and envisioned her hovering over me, her breasts free from restraint and perked up, waiting for me to indulge. My tongue was tracing all of her curves, nipping at her skin down to her hips, then tasting her honey pie.

“Fuck,” I grumbled. John Thomas was wide awake, begging for some attention. I reached down and slid my boxers down just past my hips. I began stroking myself while thinking about mounting that fine bird right next door. I groaned quietly.

It was her body that was stroking J.T. I was pounding her like there was no tomorrow. She came hard, screaming my name, digging her nails into my shoulders and dragging them down to my hard arse.

My breath grew more ragged by the second. “Shiiiit,” I whispered, my jaw set firm. I was about to come and I had nothing but my boxers to collect it in. I reached down and yanked them off.

After rolling on my side, my body contracted violently as I exploded. Nearly yelling out with pleasure, the only way I stopped myself from doing so was to bite down on my lip. I didn’t think I was going to ever stop jetting my seed. I was like a fucking volcano. I hadn’t come that hard…
ever
. Thinking about the things Quinn was doing to me in my fantasy, I could barely breathe.

What the hell is wrong with me?
No woman had ever done that to me—not even Carly. I was wound up tight thinking about Quinn. I wanted to hear her cry out my name. I wanted to run my fingers through her silky hair. I wanted to caress her body with a soft touch. I wanted to lay kisses all over her. I wanted to take care of her.

That last thought was the most surprising to me.

I realized I had my seed all over my hand. “Fuck me,” I whined to myself. Wiping it clean on my boxers, I chucked them into the wastebasket under the nightstand.

I was far too knackered to get up and find another pair. Just as I rolled onto my stomach and bunched the pillow just right, I heard a rather loud, erotic moan next door.

My ears perked up in an instant.

Quinn closed her door and locked it just like Gunther instructed. She set the Sig—as he called it—down on the nightstand and stared at it for a moment. She was uncertain if she would be able to use it even in a time of need. She lit a couple of candles and laid out the blankets and pillow that she had set in the room while she and Gunther were unloading the truck.

After stripping down to her cream-colored lacy bra and matching low-rise boy short panties, Quinn stared at herself in the mirror that was attached to the old dresser. Her body wasn’t perfect like it was twenty years ago, but she felt she looked decent enough. She saw the way Gunther looked at her with those unique eyes. It made her feel attractive and, given the conditions in the world, she felt less than stellar on a day-to-day basis.

Quinn ran her hand down her side, feeling the supple curve of her waist and hips. She pulled the hair tie out of her hair and grabbed the brush out of her bag. Her hair swept down just to her shoulders. With another glance or two in the mirror, she decided to sleep in her undergarments. They, too, made her feel beautiful.

She peeled back the blankets and slid into bed. She thought about how life had been with James, her husband. Sadness flooded her, but she didn’t want to acknowledge that he might not be coming back. Until then, she would continue to keep an eye out for him.

She thought about Carrie, her daughter, and Max, her grandson. She needed to stop thinking about them. She wasn’t ready for another all night crying session. She took a deep breath and tried to focus on what was surrounding her.

Thoughts of Gunther exploded in her mind. He was quite a beautiful man. His chiseled facial features, scruffy jawline, and long muscled body… The stirring started in her deepest parts. And his eyes. She knew she could stare into them for ages.

He was so much different than James. Like polar opposite different. Gunther was downright sexy in an almost deadly sort of way. She felt an air of danger radiating off of him, but he seemed gentle and caring…especially the way he took care of her knee. She reached down and touched the bandage that he put there so gently.

He also said he would protect her, which made her feel safer than she had in weeks.

There was something odd or fragmentary about him. She couldn’t place her finger on what it was. Then again, wasn’t everyone broken right now? All the terrible things everyone was forced to do would break the strongest of individuals.

Quinn closed her tired eyes and pictured Gunther’s svelte lips trailing down her body. She sat up with a gasp, trying to rid her tangled mind from the fantasy. She felt like she was cheating on James if she thought about another man, especially one that she hardly knew. She shook her head and laid back down.

She closed her eyes again and there was Gunther’s face. He whispered things to her that James would have never said—such inappropriate and naughty words. All things Quinn would never ask for or say out loud.

“Jesus, Quinn…enough is enough,” she scolded herself for having thoughts about this man that she was clueless about. She blew out the candles and settled back down into bed.

She couldn’t shake it. His face and amazing physique kept coming to the forefront of her mind. She had a desperate urge to touch herself, but she imagined it was Gunther’s large, strong hands.

With a shaking hand, she reached into her bra and rolled her nipple between her fingers, sending a lightning bolt through her entire body. Her hips bucked and the air shuddered as it left her throat. She licked her finger and circled the taut tip, enjoying the sensation that was pooling hot and heavy in between her curvy thighs.

One hand stayed focused on her chest, going back and forth and teasing both breasts; the other hand traveled down her not-so-perfect abdomen and headed for the waist of her panties. Sliding her fingers down to where she was drenched, her fingers explored the surface, gently massaging all her sensitive areas.

Quinn’s breath hitched in her throat as she pushed a couple fingers inside of her throbbing core. She was desperate for penetration of some kind. She would much prefer a man in her, but her fingers were all that she had. She pushed them in further, hunting for that magic spot.

A gasp tried to race out of her throat, but she caught it in time. Her hands massaged faster, and the desired feeling grew in intensity.

She imagined Gunther hovering over her, pounding his hard and thick length into her, taking her down the road of rough and dominating sex. It was something she only ever fantasized about. He was kissing and nipping at her ear and neck, saying wickedly dirty things to her. Calling her all sorts of degrading names. His hands gripped onto her hips as he furiously made love to her. She dug her fingers in further. She was breathless and sweat glistened across her body. Her hips bucked up and she came hard. So hard, she let out a lusty moan.