11. Chapter 11
Chapter 11
Malcolm
H er in my clothes is sexy as fuck, I have to admit. It makes me want to fuck her hard, so she’ll do what most women do, and put on my shirt...and nothing else. I can picture her hair all messed up, her face flushed, her chest still heaving, wearing my dress shirt, buttoned only enough to keep it on her body, and only long enough to cover the top of her ass cheeks. I give her a futile reason why I have to walk away from her, because my hard-on is growing so fast it’s painful. I’ve got my raincoat at the ready on the hook by the door, so I grab it, toss the hood up, and go outside.
The trek outside is for naught as I’ve already tamped down everything that needs to be tamped down, but I needed to get away from Steph, before I do something stupid. She is not the girl for me, and fucking her, and then spending an unknown amount of time with her, cooped up in my house, is not a great idea. This storm could last days and then the cleanup could take several more days, and she’s completely unprepared. Unless she plans on wearing my jogging suit or prancing around naked for the next week or so, we’re screwed.
Getting battered by the winds and rain, I walk around my house, waiting until my dick is shriveled, and I try to think of a plan, as I go into the garage, checking again to make sure that the truck is parked close to the door, in case it gets forced inside by the winds and rain. So far, the hurricane hasn’t hit landfall yet, and we’re nowhere near water, so there have been no evacuations ordered in my town. However, it’s the assaulting winds and rain that threaten to damage my home and its surroundings. There is no way that Stephanie is leaving until the storm has passed. I don’t care how much we like or dislike each other, it’s murder to let her go, or suicide if she’s adamant to leave.
A spare bedroom, a bag of clothes that I haven’t gotten around to pitching, and the frozen food in my freezer, are what we’re reduced to for the time being. The spare room I have for guests is always ready, since any of my siblings or my mama and da come to visit often enough. I’ve even got a spare suite for guests in the basement, if she is so pleased to inhabit that. As far as her cousin Callum trying to pull any punches, he’ll die first, since nobody driving in their car would be expected to survive weather like this, and that’s if the roads are even open. If he wanted to make a move on either of the girls, he would have had to be there already, which is impossible, as our security people would have seen him.
Plus, my home has Fort Knox security, and any idiot that would dare travel my way would have to be buzzed in, just as Stephanie was earlier. The only danger we have while being here is to each other. And that’s where I have to be strong. We can both bury ourselves in work. That would do it. Only, she’s not equipped, to my knowledge, with a laptop. The spare laptop in my study would do the trick. As I mentally cross off the answers to my problems, I feel more and more confident that we can do this. And just when I think that I’m out of the woods, as I grab hold of the door handle, a gust of wind grabs it, and rips my raincoat clear off my shoulders, soaking me to the bone instantly. “Son of a bitch!” I growl, walking inside the house.
“Is everything okay?” Stephanie asks, coming to my aid. When she sees that I’m now dripping wet, she helps me inside, grabbing hold of the door, and she pulls the towel off the drying rack. “Shit, did you get hurt out there?”
“No. Just the fucking door grabbed my coat.”
“Here. Get this off you.” She says, helping me out of my now soaking wet inside and out, raincoat. Tossing the towel over my shoulders, she takes my raincoat and hangs it over one of the pegs on the mantle. “Where’s your linen closet?”
“In the hall.” I gesture with my chin, taking my shirt that’s stuck to my skin like glue, off.
I watch her trot down the hallway, tits bouncing braless under my shirt, and I chide myself for watching her yet again. I am my own worst enemy here. My hard-on comes back a bit, and I think about something that always used to work for me as a kid, and that is one of my brothers. It quickly dissipates and we’re off to the races. When she returns, I’ve pulled my sopping shirt over my head, and it’s hung next to her clothes on the drying rack. As I stand there in just my jeans, I realize my folly. Her face says it all. Eyes on my chest and abs, I can see that look in her eyes that I once thought that I’d fear from her, but I don’t.
“I should...I should go change.” I stammer, feeling my heart skip a beat. The knowledge that she’s turned on turns me on, and I find myself dipping into my anti-hard-on toolbox again, trying to think of my brothers. But this time it doesn’t work as well, seeing as she’s sliding a dry towel over my shoulders, eyes smoldering into mine.
“You’re freezing.” She observes, yet her voice betrays her. It comes out in almost a purr.
I have to stop myself, as my gaze naturally follows hers, which can lead to trouble. As I hug the towel to my body, I try to focus on the sloshing going on in my socks. “I think it's going to be a category four or five, from the look of it. Thankfully, this house was built to withstand hurricanes.” I'm just not sure if my heart is , but I leave that part out.
That's when her phone rings, breaking the silence. Our gazes unlock, and the spell is broken. “You should get that. It's probably Moira, wondering if you're okay.”
Her purse sits on the floor, surrounded by a tiny puddle of water. But still, it rings happily. She opens her purse, and glances at the display. “It’s just the office, sending a text. Everyone is working remotely now. Everything is fine.”
I nod, realizing that I really should change out of these wet clothes, but somehow, my feet seem like they are cemented to the floor. I don't trust myself to move. As she bends back down to place her phone back inside her purse, the jogging pants, which are miles to big on her, fall down slightly, revealing a piece of her delicious ass cheek. I bite my lip, watching her pull it back up into place. Only, she gazes over to me, checking to see if I saw it. Quickly, I turn my gaze towards the fireplace, pretending that I didn't see it, and hoping that she buys it.
“Sorry.” She says, apologetically.
What I want to say is. “No need to apologize. You have a really nice ass. That was quite a treat.” But instead, I simply nod and frown like an idiot. Meanwhile, my dick is awake again. “I'm going to go change.” I quickly grab my shirt off the drying rack, holding it in front of my jeans to conceal what's behind my fly. “Make yourself at home.” I say as I head to my bedroom. I pray to God that she doesn't follow me. And as I peel off my soaking wet jeans and briefs, revealing my rock-hard cock, I wonder how the hell I'm going to fit into another pair of pants like this. I tried the usual tricks, but those tactics seem to be fading now, not used to being used so often and in such a short period of time.
The ensuite bathroom beckons me. I figure the only way out of this, to ensure that I keep my hormones in check, is to clear the pipes. “I'm just going to take a quick shower.” I call out to her.
As the water spurts out cool at first, I consider just taking a cold shower, but then that fucking sexy as hell ass cheek of hers pops up to my memory, hardening me further. “Fuck...me.” I growl to myself, thinking that I haven't been in this sort of a predicament since high school.
And just when I think I've arrived at the perfect solution to my problem, all hell breaks loose.
Steph
As soon as I hear the faint noise of the shower running, some alarm beeps. At first, I ignore it, thinking that it'll go away on its own. But when it doesn't, and instead, it gets louder and louder, I figure that it's time to alert Malcolm. Clearly, he can't hear it from inside the shower, nor will he be able to hear me tapping at the door. So, I open it. The shower stall has clear glass, lending me the perfect view of Malcolm’s naked body. But when I expect to see him turn his face towards me, and shout at me for the intrusion, I notice that he's not exactly cleaning himself.
I should be disgusted. I should be embarrassed. I should shut the door, walk away and pretend that I saw nothing. But as my legs turn to jelly, and my folds start to throb and drip wet, and the alarm shuts off spontaneously on its own, I find my feet cemented to the floor. His beefy hand surrounds his cock, which is fully hard. His choppy breathing as he pleasures himself, makes me want to do things to him, makes me want to go and finish him off. A groan from him, echoing in the shower, makes my clit vibrate, sending shockwaves of pleasure through my body. There’s something you don’t experience every day. The sigh that escapes my throat, startles me, and I don’t realize until it’s too late, that I’ve hit the light switch.
Malcolm turns around and sees me standing there. “Fuck!” He shouts, turning around so he faces the shower wall, and all I see is his delicious fucking ass. All wet and involuntarily pushing in and out. I’m guessing that he’s about to come, and it’s so hot, but at the same time, I can’t help but feel like he’d love to punch me in the face. “What the hell are you doing in here?” He says, breathing still choppy, holding his hands on the wall, lowering his head, as though bearing down.
“I...I...there was an alarm going off. I thought there was something wrong, but it stopped.”
I watch him lift his head and sniff. “Fuck.” Another sniff. “It was the fucking carbon monoxide detector. It’s fucked up and I haven’t had a chance to fix it. It comes on when the fireplace is on.”
“Oh my God.” I practically cry. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to...God, Malcolm. Are you doing that because of me?”
“No, lass. I’m doing it because of the fucking storm...what do you think?”
“I’m sorry. Truly, I am.” I almost beg. I’m still turned on as hell, but now I’m mortified. Then I start to think that maybe this is my opportunity. Malcolm has rejected me, he’s teased me, taunted me, and now that it seems that he’s at my mercy, this may be the only opportunity I have to do as I please with him. After a slight hesitation, I pull the shirt over my head, and slide the pants down, rendering myself naked. Taking steps to the shower, I open the door, and he turns around. His cock is so perfect I could cry. It’s hard in all its glory, and Malcolm is all wet, worked up and as ready as he’ll ever be to fuck me.
“Fuck me, Malcolm.” I say to him.
His eyes are all over my body. “Holy....fuck.” He whimpers, turning to me. He would have to be completely repelled by me to turn me away now. I consider dropping to my knees and fucking him with my mouth, as I so desperately want to do, but he pulls me to him, shoving my back up against the shower wall, lifting me slightly, so that his cock is at my entrance. “I don’t have condoms, lass.”
“I’m on the pill.” I explain on exhale, getting the birth control business out of the way, and he thrusts into me, making my eyes roll back into the sockets, as my back slips up the wall and down again, while he fills me again and again. Fingernails biting into his back, legs wrapped around his middle, feet at his rounded ass, I cry out loud, feeling every plentiful inch of him as he fucks me the way that I’ve wanted him to fuck me since we met. His cock hits every hungry spot inside me as his lips suck my neck.
I come so fast I scream on exhale, as I feel him empty inside me, groaning, competing with my amplified cries in the small, glass-enclosed space. Then he pulls out and rubs his still hard as hell cock on my clit, while his lips move to my nipple and his hand moves to the other, and I come so hard a second time, it makes the first climax seem mild. His lips move down my body, as he carefully releases me, and my feet land on the tiled floor. Just when I think he’s finished, he kneels, drapes one of my legs over his shoulder, grasps my ass for balance, and fucks me with his mouth. The sucks, at first, are too much, as they force my clit outward, hitting every nerve ending between my legs. I cry out on every exhale as he batters my hungry orb, and then he licks it, pushing me over the edge a third time.
My legs are so wobbly he has to hold me to him for stability. I’m dizzy and dazed, and so satiated I could sleep. I’ve never come three times with anyone, and never that fast, either. He lets the water pour over us, as we both come down from the highest natural high there is, as our breathing normalizes. We speak nothing to each other, and we don’t embrace. He’s simply keeping me from falling over in the shower.
...and I start to wonder if this was a mistake.
Malcolm
I wanted to chide her. I wanted to scream at her for walking in on me. But when she walked over to me, stark naked, beautiful as fuck, I was right on the edge only moments before, and I’d have to be a superhero to say no to anyone at that point. So, I did what any warm-blooded male would do, and I fucked her. I fucked her good, too. I could have just let her come the one time, but something in me wanted to do more. Was I trying to prove a point? I’m not sure. Was I trying to show her who’s boss? Maybe. Was I loving having her at my mercy as she made me at hers moments ago? Sure. It was a fucking rush, I’m not going to lie. Should I have just made her turn around and get the fuck out of my bathroom and finish the job myself? If I was a Mormon, sure. A monk, maybe. But after the hard-ons that she caused me since her arrival, and the others before that, I figured she was fair game.
Truthfully, I couldn’t resist her. Those tits are perfect. That ass is fucking delicious enough to bite. And her cunt is like a perfect piece of fucking pie. Delicious, juicy, and oh, so easy to work with. I’ve never had a screamer before, either, and Steph...well, she was louder than the goddamn hurricane. How the hell am I going to keep my hands off her until it’s safe for her to leave? I’ll figure that one out. But I’ll bet it’ll be easier now that we’ve fucked once. Twenty bucks says that she’s got it off her chest, too, and we’ll both go back to hating each other in record time.
As I push the lever down, the water stops. Neither of us have bothered to cleanse ourselves. Not that we needed it. I grab the towels off the rack next to the stall and hand her one. She takes it and dries herself off, while I do the same. We don’t look at each other, although I want to. Not sure if she does, but based on the reception received, I’m sure that she’s just behaving as disconnected as I am, simply because neither of us has broken the silence. After I tuck the towel around my middle, I leave her, going to my room to get dressed. I can hear her slipping back into the jogging suit. When we reconvene in the living room five minutes later, I break the silence. “You hungry?”
“No. I should go.” She says, as though embarrassed.
“Like hell you are. We’ve been through this.” I argue.
“Malcolm, I’ve driven in a storm before. It’s no big deal.”
“Aye, well, you’re not doing it on my watch. Forget it. If you need to get work done, I can loan you a laptop, but until this storm passes, you’re staying put. I’m not taking no for an answer.”
“Just who do you think you are?” She barks suddenly, surprising me.
I look her up and down, annoyed. “I could say the same thing to you, lass. Who do you think you are, coming into the shower with me like that, huh?”
Her voice raises higher than mine. “You didn’t seem to mind!”
“I have a pulse, don’t I? When a naked woman welcomes herself in the shower of a man who’s about to blow his wad, what was I supposed to do?!”
“You could have told me to get out! You shouted ‘fuck’ when you saw me!”
“That’s because you startled me! But then you traipsed into my shower, stark naked, dammit! Don’t be daft! I’d have to be dead to turn that down! You had a lot of nerve!”
“I thought your house was going to burn down! Or that you had an intruder! How the fuck was I supposed to know what you were doing in there!” Her chest heaves as does mine. We’re both thoroughly pissed off, despite the mutual release moments ago.
“So, you figured you’d just take off your clothes and fuck me?! Now look what you’ve done! This is a fucking mess and now we’re stuck in this godforsaken house together until this goddamn storm passes!” I’m so angry, spittle is flying out of my mouth.
“What is the matter with you, Malcolm? You got laid! Most men would be happy! But, no! You’re whining about it! I don’t get you!”
I feel my jaw muscles clench. I lower my voice, almost to a guttural growl. “Because that’s all you wanted, Stephanie. That’s all you wanted all along.”
“What do you mean that’s all I wanted?” She sneers.
“Why were you so adamant to know whether or not I fucked Clare, hm?”
That hit a nerve. She swallows and retracts her claws slightly, and then she says something that I would never expect her to say.