“Whatcha having Miss?”
“Half a shandy, Malibu and pineapple and a sparkling white, thanks”.
I started to hum along to the voice of Kelly Clarkson, finding myself gently moving my body to her words. I gasped when I felt a hand slip around my waist. I would just have to tell Connor I meant no. My body tensed instantly as the hand rose to grope my breast. I glanced at it being repulsed by the sight of thick wiry hairs spraying from the hand. It wasn’t Connor. I started to quiver at the thought of an unknown man touching me. I tried to pull away from his grotesque movement but his vice like grip was hard and cold, pinning me into place. The volatile smell of stale whisky made my body shudder.
“Mmmhmmm you smell mighty fine, you tight little piece of ass”.
I tried to pull away again but the bar was so busy and loud no one realized my desperation.
“Get of me”, I said through clenched teeth, biting away my overwhelming desire to cry.
“Well that wouldn’t be fun now would it, especially with a body like this”, his hands traced my waist and moved to the curve of my buttocks.
I started to shake involuntary. Wishing for my mind to focus, contemplating the best way to remove myself from his grasp.
With a sudden movement his hands released me. I inhaled deeply filling my lungs with the much needed oxygen that I was restricting them from in his hold. I pivoted around to see Connor standing between me and the jack-ass. Connors first clenched and tightened as he pulled his arm back. His bicep was tense, larger than I had ever seen before. His knuckles were as white as snow straining against his flesh. He released it and swung forward. With an echoing crack the spineless jerk was on the floor clutching his bloodied face. He whimpered, collectively gathering his feet together,
“Touch her again and I will kill you”, Connor hissed. His eyes seething with hatred for this spineless man placed in one the floor in front of us.
The bloodied man’s face fell with fear. He then stood up and fled from view.
Connor turned to face me. His eyes hued with gun metal grey. Stormy, full of anger. The intensity of our feelings open for one another to see. His arms engulfed me. Pulling me into his stone hard chest. Pressing against my breasts. His grip lessened at the realisation of my arms holding him back. Feeling his warm strong arms laced around my lower back, was like a cocoon protecting me from the outside world. I turned my head laying my cheek over his heart. Listening to the thrum of his heart beating vigorously.
“It’s ok Evie, I won’t let anyone hurt you”.
I climbed into my King size bed. Relieved to be home for the night. Nuzzling down into the crisp white Egyptian cotton duvet. Warmth surrounded me. I closed my eyes to the day. As I slipped into a peaceful slumber all I saw was Connor’s face.
“You look beautiful tonight”, tracing his finger across my shoulder and slipping the strap of my silk camisole down. He looked into my eyes never loosing focus as his fingers swept down my arm and across to meet with my waist. Warm pooling liquid gathered between my legs. I was so engaged to his every touch. My nipples hardened as his mouth surrounded one of them. Sucking and teasing it, running his tongue around and over my hard nipple. My body quivered. The strong masculine hand that he used to protect me tonight felt protective as he placed his palm on the nape of my neck. He was so gentle, so in tune with my desire to have him. My head tilted back to allow his tongue to devour mine. All of my senses were on overdrive.
I awoke in the morning feeling irrationally intrigued by my indecent dream. I was attracted to him immensely. I wanted to feel his touch on my body. The taste of his lips upon mine. The feeling of him inside of me.
My body was aching at the thought of him. A throbbing between my legs urged me to release the tension my body held. I was irrationally horny over my dream with Connor. I needed a release.
My fingers slipped between the lace of my black panties until they had found their way to my wet slit. The liquid was warm and had flowed naturally at the thought of Connor possessing my body. I stroked back and forth allowing my muscles to quiver with the erotic sensation I was unleashing on myself. My left hand slid underneath my silk camisole, massaging and pulling at my erect nipple. I worked my fingers around my clit and began to circle it. Intensifying the build up of pleasure I could feel between my legs. The immense feeling of desire flooded my body. I slipped a finger inside of myself. Moving in and out. Thrusting. The feeling of my warm silky skin against my bare fingers. I withdrew and rubbed my clitoris until I was on the brink of loosing myself. The image of Connor inscribed into my mind was the final push I needed to bring myself to a shuddering orgasm.
Five more nights until Henry returned.
Five more nights of freedom.
Chapter 11
Wednesday had started as any other day. Opening my eyes to the thought of Connor. I hadn’t seen him since Travie’s gig two nights ago. Come to think of it I hadn’t heard from Henry either. Perhaps he was still perplexed by my tone with his Mother dearest. Pushing off my duvet I sought after my laptop. Grabbing it off of my dressing table I headed for the stairs. Tea first, just what I need.
Oh God. Owwe. A large thud to my buttocks was first indication that my feet had decided to miss the first step. Fuuuuccck. My arms swung out in an automatic reflex to grab the banister in the hope I could save myself from falling. It was no use. I tumbled. Every step had managed to come into contact a part of my body. Bruising was inevitable. Ow…… ow, ow, ow.
Sitting shaking at the foot of my stairwell I glanced to see my laptop smashed into about eight various pieces. Bollocks. What a great start to my day. Picking up the pieces I bought them through to the coffee table in the lounge and placed them out. I can do this, surely? — Can’t be that hard to fix. I clipped some of the loose keys back onto the pad. Not bad Evie. Pat on the back for me. Next I held out a long rectangular looking thingy-ma-giggy. After fifteen minutes of staring at the remaining parts hoping to have an epiphany I realised this was no use. I have no clue what any of these parts are.
Henry is going to be seething when I tell him. Perhaps. There is someone to fix everything.
I strode towards the kitchen. I was on a mission. Four days left, this is more than possible. Now if I can just find that damn Yellow pages then this can be forgotten and Henry will never know.
I tore through every cupboard and sifted through each shelf. It was nowhere to be seen. I knew I had placed it back here. My finger brushed over my growing collection of Good Food Magazines and cookery books. Henry. That’s it, Henry used it last.
I hurried out of the doorway and turned right into Henry’s office. I hesitated at the handle. I very rarely came into Henry’s office. It was his private space. Needs must. I twisted the handle and it failed to open, it was locked. I glanced, inspecting the offending lock, trying to fathom a way to break into a room in my house. I pulled a coin from my jean pocket and braced myself. The coin slipped into the crevice and allowed enough momentum to twist the lock. I pushed the door open and glanced around the immaculate room. His desk sat in the middle. The walls were emerald green with walnut veneered cladding covering the lower half. It seemed like something out of The Godfather. The room was dark, nothing like the rest of the house. It was a representation of Henry in every way. A large sheepskin rug covered the majority of the dark wood flooring. It was the only softness in a room of harsh lines and bold colours. I walked slowly towards his desk trailing my finger over the steel filing cabinets.