Evan Arden 01 Otherwise Alone (4 page)

“Um…where should I sleep?” she ask
s
quietly, and I
can’t
help but chuckle.

“There’s only one place to sleep,” I sa
y
, which should have been pretty fucking obvious.  Rolling
and scooting
to my side to offer her as much room as possible, I gesture to the other side of the twin bed. 
“Right here.”

She looks
around a bit, and I
can
almost hear her mind contemplating her options.  There
are
the rocking chairs on the porch and the card table in the kitchen, which wouldn’t hold half her weight.  Other than that, there
is the
wood
floor to sleep on – that’s it.

I shake my head slowly.

“Just lay down.”

I watch her throat bob as she swallows
again
,
then walks slowly over to the side of my bed.  She doesn’t bother taking anything off, which doesn’t surprise me at all.  She’ll be
way too hot to sleep, but that’s
her problem.

Actually, she’s
just plain hot.

I’m pretty sure it’s not just
because I haven’t
seen an actual female for
three months
that makes
me think like this.  Her hair is
gorgeous and makes me want to run my fingers through it while my cock
slides
in and out of her mouth.  She’s got a perfect buil
d
, too.  She’s not too skinny, which I fucking hate, but has
kind of an athletic build.
  She isn’t quite muscular enough to remind me o
f the chicks who served with me
,
but still well-formed.
  She’s got
a
real woman
’s
hips, which I want to grip while I pound into her pussy.
  Nice ass, too, which makes me want to roll her over on her stomach
and grasp both cheeks
while my cock pistons in and out of her
backdoor
.

There seems to be a theme to my thoughts.

She bit
es
down on her lower lip as she first sits on the bed and then stretches out next to me,
which is when
it occurs to me that I’d really like to just kiss her, too. 
I chuckle silently to myself and try to get in the most comfortable position possible.  I lie
down
on my side
still facing her and lay my arm
across
my own body with my hand resting on my thigh
so she has enough room to lie down without having to touch me
.  She also l
ies
down facing me, which I find intriguing.  A lot of people would have turned around and faced away from a relative stranger
,
feeling protected by their own backs.  She knows better and realizes she needs to be able to see me so she’s not taken off guard.

She’s also staring at my bare chest.

Her eyes are just a little wider than I would expect from someone contemplating sleep
, and her muscles are tight and stiff
.  She’s not mentally tired at all, but only going through the motions because it’s time to go to sleep, not because she wants to. 
She may be physically exhausted, but her mind won’t let her relax. 
She’s too anxious to sleep, and I wonder if her thoughts are more on the strange man whose bed she is in or the one who dumped her on the side of the road without regard for her safety.

That thought pisses me off a bit.

I watch her watch me, and every time I look at her lips I think of either covering them with my own or maybe filling her mouth with my cock.  Every time I look lower
,
I want to find some
other warm
place
to
hide my dick for an hour or so
.

Yeah, t
here is definitely a theme.

“
You’re making me nervous,” she
says
.

I glance
up
from her hip
back to her face.

“How?”
I ask, though I’m pretty sure I know the answer.

“You keep staring at me.”

I try to hold back a laugh, but I can’t help myself.

“You are by far the most interesting thing I have had to look at in a long, long time.”

Her eyes are wary and nervous, and I feel a little bad.  My flippant comment probably isn’t going to help her get any sleep, and that really isn’t my intent.  I decide to lay it all on the line for her.

“Look…” I
start
, but then I pause.  I’m not sure how to say what I want to say without scaring her, and I don’t want to scare her.  I want to fuck her, but I don’t want to scare her.
  If I play all of this right – if I read her perfectly – then I just might get the chance.  I can’t fuck it up though.  If I misread
her in any way,
I
will
say or do the wrong thing, and she
will
just become more agitated.  I want to have her quietly moaning my name into the pillow as I come in her, not freaking out on me because I pushed in the exact wrong way.

I finally
decide on the direct approach.

“
You don’t have to be scared of me. 
If I was going to hurt you, I would have already.  If I was going to kill you, you’d be dead.  If I was planning on raping you, you’d be raped, okay?”

I hear her sharp intake of breath.

Okay, maybe that was a little too direct.

She tenses at my last sentence, which doesn’t surprise me.  Most chicks
are
more fearful of being raped than being killed.  Something about her posture and expression seem off to me, though.  As I look her over
I realize
that though I have shocked her a bit,
she’s thinking about it in a slightly different way.
  It’s not pure fear, as would be the obvious reaction.

I think about this for a minute and start watching her a little more closely.  It does seem to make her…
react
. 
Her chest is rising a
nd
falling a little faster, her eyes are dilated, and there’s a bit of a tinge to her cheeks that wasn’t there before. 
I’m not sure nervous is the right word
– a
nxious seems more like it.  Maybe even
something slightly different.  Like maybe she’
s thinking about what it would be like, and not in a completely bad way
.

I’
ve seen chicks get raped - u
sually right in front of
their
dad or husband or whatever as a means of punishing him for whatever he fucked up. 
That shit just goes with the territory in my line of business. 
I don’t
participate – I’m just a killer, not a torturer.  That’s an art form I don’t care to learn.  My skills are all with the guns, and the closest I ever see my victims is through the scope.  With rape
,
t
he chick gets damaged, and I know no woman really wants that.  That’s not the same as thinking about it, though, and I know the difference between fantasy and reality.

I process the information
in
my head.

Some
guy,
one
who is close to her
and
maybe even her h
usband
,
dumped her on the side of the road
…
and
now
she wouldn’t mind a little
consensual,
rough sex.

Interesting.

It’s temping, but
the more I think about it
,
the more I decide
I’m not going to act on it.  I’m not sure my cock is in
agreement
because it’s threat
ening to rear up and be noticed.  In a bed this size and
with
our close proximity, I really doubt it will be overlooked, so
I close my eyes for a minute, breathe deep, and think about a few head shots until I’m in control again.

Well, I am until I open my eyes and see that she is still staring at my chest.  Every minute or so her gaze drops down over my abs and maybe even a bit lower as well.  The tip of her tongue
slips
out and moistens her lips right before she takes air deeply into her lungs.

I feel the slight vibration in the mattress as she shudders a little.  For a moment, I think
it’s
fear, but her eyes show something else. She wants me.  She’s thinking about running her hands over my chest, and the thought is making me hard.  My mouth acts on the thought without really having a deep consultation about it with my brain first.

“Touch me,” I say.

Her eyes widen as her
tongue darts out over her lips again.

“What?”

I hate that.  People do it all the time, and I know it’s
“
human nature
”
or some such shit, but I hate it when people use the “oh I didn’t hear you” excuse to give themselves time to think about how they want to answer you.  That is exactly what she is doing, and I’m not going to give her the chance to think.

“Touch me,” I repeat as I nod towards her hand.
  “You want to – go ahead.”

She hesitates, and her chest rises and falls with her deepening breaths.
 
Her eyes move to mine,
back down to my chest,
and
then back to my face again.  I can almost see her mind working behind her eyes – weighing the options and trying to decide if she is going to go for the gusto or not. 
She wants to, but she’s afraid of the consequences.

“Take the chance,” I say softly.

Her eyes are on mine again, and I know she’s made her decision. 
She licks her lips
once more
before slowly reaching out with one hand.  My skin can’t help but twitch as her feathery light touch connects with my abs.
  I’m a little surprised because I thought she’d touch my chest first, and the sensation on my stomach is unexpected.  It’s also too damn close to my dick, which is now being very obvious just a couple of inches below her fingers.

Hoping she will agree that it’s only fair, m
y hand moves slowly from my own leg over to her waist.  I lay it right on top of the hem of her shirt – just above the curve of her hip – and just let it sit there a moment.  Her eyes dart up to mine, and I can see her throat bob a little as she swallows nervously.

She looks back down to where her hand touches my skin, and her tongue runs over her lower lip. 
With a light touch, her hand moves up to my chest and slowly traces the outlines of the muscles there.  She finds her way to my shoulder before going back down to my stomach again.  My hand grips her slightly on her waist.  It’s only reflexive, but she looks up at me anyway.

She doesn’t meet my eyes, though – she is focused a little lower.  Her lips purse slightly, and I can see the increased speed of her breaths in the way her chest
rises
and falls.  I want to place my hand on her chest to feel her heart rate, but I hold back.

For now.

“Kiss me.”  My voice sounds raspy to me, like my throat is dry and full of sand.  I watch her eyes get wide for a moment, flickering quickly between my eyes and my mouth.  As much as I want to lean forward and just take her mouth with mine, I
stop myself from doing so
.  Lett
ing
her take the lead – at least for now – is important.

Soon, though…soon I
’ll
be in control.  Once she’s decided she really wants it, I’m fucking taking over because that’s what she really needs.

“Go on,” I say with my eyes locked on hers.  “You want to.”

“I do?”

“Yes.”

“And how do you know that?”  Her tone is some
what
defiant but not enough.  She might not want to want it, but she does.

“I’m a very good judge of character,” I inform her.

“You are, huh?”  She cocks her head to one side and looks up at me.  Her eyes are dilated even more now, and I know she’s just trying to think her way out of it.

“Stop stalling.”  My fingers grip her side a little to pull her minutely closer.  Just a touch of encouragement, which seems to be all she needs.

My eyes stay on her as she moves slightly closer.  She hesitates one last second before her lips tentatively touch mine.  I’m not having any of that, though.  She’s opened the door, and i
t might as well be a pair of those gigantic wooden double-doors that grace the fro
nt of some huge Bavarian castle
because I’m coming in
.