Chapter Three #2
“You don’t even know what I look like,” I say as if I’m offended.
“What do you look like?” he asks, sounding genuinely curious.
I pull the plastic apart, freeing the cheese. “Plain…boring. Blondish brown hair, brown eyes.”
“How old are you?”
I hesitate for a moment, wondering if he’d be annoyed to know that I am at least twelve years younger than him. “How old do you think I am?”
“Mentally you’re twelve, physically…twenties?”
“You’re right, I am in my twenties,” I say as I walk over to him and sit on his right leg, though I’m careful of his hurt one. I start to repeatedly smack him in the face with his cheese until he snatches it out of my hand quicker than I could have, and I’m not blind.
He starts eating the cheese like a savage. Not even pulling a single string but instead biting it like a feral animal. “So, compare yourself to someone so I can get an image of what you look like. Because right now I envision you as a whiny, little dwarf like off Snow White .”
“Okay, so you know when you’re walking through the mall and there’s this person that’s just…
gorgeous. Like so gorgeous you just stare at them?
But you’re like man, I shouldn’t stare so you end up doing like a double take?
Yeah, you know what I mean. Like even if they’re of the gender you’re not attracted to, you just appreciate their beauty?
I’m the person you run into because you’re so busy staring at them. ”
“So…you look like a trash can? Is that what I’m hearing?”
I laugh. “Exactly like one.”
He tosses the wrapper on the floor as he finishes the cheese stick. “Since you’re sitting on my lap, does that mean it’s story time or fuck time?”
“Depends on how thick your wallet is.”
“Thicker than your dick,” he retorts.
“Damn, guess I better get to fucking you, huh?” I ask as he grabs my shirt and yanks at it impatiently. It catches under my chin, so I grab for it. “Give me a minute! You’re choking me!”
He shrugs like he doesn’t much care if I’m still alive at the end of this and instead turns his attention to my pants, tackling the button. I stand up to pull them off and push them down my hips. I can step out of them as I watch him unbutton his own. “I can’t wait until I can use my leg.”
“Just a couple more days,” I say. “But then you’ll probably be stuck with a cane or a walker until you’re stable enough.”
“Oh, they’re really funny if they think they can force me to use either of those.”
***
After a painful week of Lane refusing to use the walker he was ordered to use, we’re finally free of it. Not because he is supposed to be free of it, but because he broke it on “accident” when I wasn’t around. Then he lied and told me the physical therapist said that he was good to go.
It made me look like a really horrible babysitter when the therapist asked me how I could be letting him walk around without a walker.
“So?” I ask as I pull the car door open. “You’re a free man. No wheelchair. No walker. Just your little jabby blind person stick.”
“Thank God,” Lane says as he gets out of the car and begins to walk toward the house while refusing to use the aid of his white cane. Since he refuses to even take it, I grab it and smack it around a bit just to test it out.
“Now, chop chop. Off to bed we go,” he says.
“I’m not a blowup doll you can stash under your bed while you’re waiting for your mom to leave,” I say.
“You’re right. If you were, I’d have at least made you human-sized.”
“Funny,” I say as I hold the cane like I was preparing to hit him across the back of the legs.
“Get up here and open the door,” he says even though he’s nowhere near it. So, as I walk past him, I loop my arm through his and pull him after me. “I don’t need help. I am perfectly capable without help.” As soon as I let go he runs into a fake tree.
I force the cane into his hand in hopes he’ll take it. “Wave it around a bit, feel your way through the house.”
He smacks the wall so vigorously that I’m surprised the cane doesn’t break.
“Do you even know this house at all? Because I’m assuming you don’t,” I say. “Do you want me to give you a tour?”
“Yes, into my bedroom.”
I grab his arm and head straight for his bedroom. He tosses the cane along the way, and once in the bedroom, he grabs onto me.
“Whoa, it’s noon, I’m hungry. Not feeling it.”
He begins to unbutton my shirt with eager fingers. “I am, and I’m your employer. If I say act like a dog, you bark.”
“Woof,” I say, and he grins.
“Idiot,” he says as he yanks my shirt off and quickly pushes my pants down without bothering to unbutton them. I help him out of his shirt as he pushes his own pants down and grabs me. “Where’s the bed?”
“I don’t know, there’s no way I’d ever find it since I’m an idiot.”
He pushes me back and luckily, I fall onto the bed. “You don’t sound dead, so I think I found it,” he says as he walks forward until he hits it with his knees. Then he crawls up onto the bed, straddling me. I slide up until I’m completely on the bed and he follows me.
“This is your day of glory. You better not screw it up.”
“I like it when you talk dirty to me,” he says, and I laugh.
Instead of reaching for him, I just watch him.
When I first met him, I had been worried if we would get along.
It wasn’t like I couldn’t handle living with someone I didn’t get along with; my entire childhood was like that, but he is nothing like my first impression of him.
I watch his hands slide up my waist, toward my chest. His fingers make it feel like electricity is running under my skin and I shiver.
My hands are aching to touch him, so I slide them up his hard chest, allowing them to snake around to his back as I draw him closer to me.
I lean forward, pressing my lips against his as he gives in to me.
He captures my entire body with just the movement of his lips, and I’m entranced by them.
When he pulls back, we are both breathing heavily, but he doesn’t stop kissing me.
His lips move down my throat as my hands explore his back, down to his butt.
I squeeze the round muscle of his ass before dipping my finger between his cheeks.
“What are you doing down there?” he asks.
“Just exploring,” I say innocently.
“Explore elsewhere,” he says, and I laugh.
He shifts his body, and I feel the hot length of his cock brush against mine.
I thrust my hips up and moan at the friction, but it’s not enough.
I need more, and he must sense it as his hand slides down and wraps around my cock, stroking me quickly.
I press up against his touch as my fingers trail a path down to his cock.
He groans as I wrap my fingers around him, teasing the tip with my thumb before pressing his cock against my own.
He reaches out with his free hand and feels around until he finds the lubricant.
Slick fingers push against me as I open my legs wider to accept him.
He moves inside of me like he already knows me.
We may not truly know each other, but in the silence of his room, it is clear that we understand each other.
We can feel each other and a part of it worries me.
I have never been good at dealing with another human on an emotional level as I’ve never understood relationships or commitments.
I never believed in them. But this? This I can handle.
I can feel his touch, I can sense his lust, and I know it is finally something directed only at me.
He slides his fingers out of me, but before I can murmur a complaint, I can feel his cock pressed against my entrance.
I wrap my legs around him as he thrusts into me, making me gasp.
My body trembles beneath his touch as his lips gently find my own.
Then he moves, sliding out then in gently at first. He shifts slightly before thrusting in, hitting that spot inside of me, making heat rush through my body as I moan and grab onto him desperately.
He holds himself up as his other hand slides between my legs and takes my member between his fingers.
He thrusts in harder this time, and I feel him there, tight within me.
I grab onto him as the feeling spreads over my body until I can’t handle it anymore.
There is no way I can hold out any longer with the way he is driving me crazy.
I can feel my body tighten around him as his head tips back and he thrusts hard into me.
His hand pumps me as I come, his grip tight on my sensitive skin.
Panting, he pulls out of me, but instead of getting off me, he sits on my waist.
“Your ass is heavy,” I breathe as I watch him. His brown hair is sweaty and stuck to his head. I want to make a comment about him breathing so hard because he’s old, but I am probably just as breathless, and I hadn’t even done any of the work. “How old are you?”
“Thirty-seven.”
“Shit, you’re old. Is that why you have such saggy nuts?” I joke.
“You must be pretty ugly if you’re willing to sleep with me then,” he says as he sets his hands down on my stomach. He moves them up my stomach and over my nipples before reaching my collarbone. One hand stops on my chest and the other ventures up over my chin.
I watch him closely as he leans over me with such concentration.
He seems hesitant like he doesn’t really want me to notice what he’s doing but doesn’t stop.
His right hand slides up my throat as his index finger makes an arch over my lips, then back down my cheek.
He moves his other hand up past my eyes before sinking it into my light hair.
The entire time I watch his unseeing eyes as I wonder what it would feel like to suddenly have my vision ripped away from me.
All the things I would miss. Or how it would feel to have no idea what he looked like.
“Your hair is curly and long.”
I really don’t think to my ears is that long, but I guess he seems to prefer his hair cut short. “It’s not curly, it’s a little wavy. It gets messy like this when I go to bed with it wet. What are you doing?”
“I’m trying to feel if you’re ugly,” he says.
I laugh, and he runs his hand back down over my lips. I open my mouth and lick his finger.
“Disgusting,” he says as he wipes the slobber off on my cheek.
“Ew,” I say.
“What color is your skin?”
“I’m paler than you,” I say.
“Is that pity I hear in your voice?” he asks. I watch as he reaches out and grabs a pillow before pressing it over my head. “I’ll smother you.”
I laugh as I push it off, but I can tell I’ve made him a little embarrassed. He doesn’t like anyone acknowledging the fact that he can’t do everything the same way as he had before. “Sit up for a moment.”
He does, and I roll over onto my stomach. “Now, I bet you should feel my back over. I have always heard that the way to truly see someone is through their back.”
“I’m not giving you a back massage,” he says as he jabs me between the shoulder blades with his finger.
“That’s not what I said,” I say. “I’ve heard you learn a lot about a man from their back.”
“You’re not a man,” he says as he slides his hand up my back and grabs a handful of my hair. “Why’s your hair so silky? It’s like petting a dog.”
“It’s how I seduce men and women,” I say. “Fuck, I’m so good, you don’t even need to see me, and you’re already seduced.”
He snorts. I notice he doesn’t return to touching me, and I want to tell him that he can. He’s acting like he’s been caught doing something wrong or embarrassing.
“Are you hungry?” I ask, hoping to shift his mind to something else.
“Yeah…sure,” he says as he gets off me.
“What do you want?” I ask as I sit up.
“Felix?”
“Hmm?”
“Whatever you make tastes like cat litter, so it honestly doesn’t matter to me.”
“Well…there are different types of cat litter,” I say as I grab my clothes. I go into the bathroom and get cleaned up before pulling them on, then I head into the kitchen where I make him a lunch meat sandwich. I mean, I can’t ruin that, right?
When he hasn’t emerged by the time I’m done, I head back toward his room.
I quickly stop before he hears me because he’s sitting on the edge of his bed with his face in his hands.
I can’t tell if he’s crying or not, but I feel awful for him.
I can’t imagine what he’s going through right now.
How hard everything has to be for him. I didn’t know him before the accident, but it’s clear that he isn’t thriving in this new life.
What I do know is that he’ll get pissed if I go in to comfort him. Which is fine with me because I never really learned how to comfort someone. That kind of stuff didn’t happen when I was growing up. I learned from a young age to deal with my own shit and keep my nose out of others’.
So, I back up down the hallway, but stop before I get too far away.
“Lane! What are you doing? My food’s going to go to waste if it gets to room temperature,” I shout as I head down the hallway.
When I reach his door, I peek into the room.
He has his back to me, but he’s pulling on his clothes.
“One pile of cat shit rolled in litter waiting for you.”
“Sounds better than what you made last night,” he says.
“I hate you.”
“The feeling is mutual,” he says as he covers up the other emotions with a smile.
“Glad to know we agree on one thing,” I say.