Chapter 11 #2
help to acclimate to what? Your English seems pretty good to me,”
the cop says.
Taking a deep
breath, I let it out and lay it on the line. “I actually lived
in the Amazon… with an indigenous tribe. This is my first time
back in the modern world. The woman is an anthropologist at
Northwestern, and she was hired by my godfather to ‘rescue’
me and bring me home.”
Now both of the
cop’s eyebrows raise high with surprise. One of them says, “Are
you fucking with us?”
“No, sir. I’m
not keen on you shooting me,” I tell him with a grin.
The other officer
starts laughing and gets back in his car. “I’ll pull up
her address, Carter, and give him a ride over there.”
The cop, whose name
I now know to be Carter, nods and gets back in his own car. “Go
ahead and get in his backseat. He’ll take you over there.”
With relief, I thank
him and get in the other cop’s vehicle. When I close the door,
he says, “I’m Officer Stevens. What’s your name,
buddy?”
“Zacharias
Easton,” I tell him.
“And your
friend’s name?”
“Moira Reed,”
I supply and then add on, “I really appreciate it. I can’t
believe I got lost.”
“Can happen to
the best of us,” he says while he types away on a small
computer mounted to his dashboard. “So you really lived in the
Amazon for eighteen years?”
“Yeah. My
parents were missionaries there, and they died when I was eight. The
tribe adopted me. I had no clue there was someone here in the States
looking for me. Don’t remember a whole lot about my time here.”
“Fucking
incredible,” he says thoughtfully. “Okay, I got it. Moira
Reed… she’s over on Kopoula Street.”
“That’s
it,” I say with recognition.
“Okay,”
he says as he starts the car. “Put your seatbelt on, and I’ll
have you home in a jif.”
When we pull up into
Moira’s driveway, utter relief courses through me. It’s a
shitty feeling being lost and out of control. I try to open the car
door, but it’s locked.
“Hold on,”
Officer Stevens says. “I’ll have to open it from the
outside.”
He exits the car as
I take off my seatbelt and, when the door opens, I step out onto the
concrete driveway. “Thank you. I really appreciate it.”
“No worries,”
he says with a smile. “But I’m just going to go up to the
door with you.”
Ahhh. I get it. He
wants to make sure that Moira really does know me, and that I’m
not some lunatic trying to murder her. Very impressive.
Just before we hit
the front porch step, the door flies open, and Moira comes running
out. She looks stunning, her flamed hair pulled up in a high
ponytail. She’s wearing a butter yellow sundress with white
flowers around the hem. “Oh, thank God, Zach. I’ve been
worried sick about you.”
Her eyes flick back
and forth between the cop and me, but when they rest back on me, she
says in surprise, “You cut your hair.”
My fingers rise up
and sift through the short locks. “Yeah… I guess so.”
She smiles at me
briefly and says, “I like it.”
Turning to the
police officer, she says, “Is everything alright?”
“Everything’s
fine, ma’am,” he assures her. “He just got a little
lost and couldn’t remember how to get back here. I assume you
know this man.”
“Yes, he’s
staying with me while visiting from Brazil.”
“He told me
the story. That’s pretty amazing,” he says kindly. “Well,
I need to get back out there. You two take care.”
We both say goodbye,
standing on the porch and watching as the officer pulls out of her
driveway. When he’s gone from sight, I turn around and look at
Moira. “I’m sorry you were worried. I just went walking
and don’t understand how I got so lost.”
Before I know what’s
happening, Moira launches herself at me, slamming her body into mine.
Her head rests on my chest, and her arms wrap around my waist.
Squeezing tight, she says, “I was going out of my mind with
worry. I had no clue what happened to you.”
My arms come up and
tentatively wrap around her. The way she’s so boldly touching
me now confuses me. It’s not a sexual touch, but rather a warm
embrace of relief. It’s nice to have been missed.
“That’s
it,” she says as she releases me and pulls back. “We’re
going out right now and buying you a cell phone so you can call me if
something like that happens again.”
“Sounds good,”
I tell her with a grin. “I know there won’t be a cop on
every street corner to rescue me every time.”
Moira turns away and
heads back into the house. I follow her in, noting that her shoulders
still look tight, so I know something else is bothering her. She
walks into the kitchen and picks up her coffee cup that was on the
table. I watch as she pours the contents into the sink and then
rinses the cup.
I silently walk
closer to her and, when she turns around, I don’t hesitate for
a second. My hands go to her face, and I pull her in closer to me.
Her eyes go wide, and her mouth opens slightly.
Perfect.
I lower my face and
touch my mouth to hers.
Our very first kiss.
My very first kiss
with a woman.
Moira sighs at the
light touch, and instinct takes over. I slip my tongue in between her
lips… past her teeth and, when it touches hers, a breath of
pleasure releases from my mouth into hers. My lips move against hers,
our tongues twining. She tastes like coffee and sugar. Unbelievable
how soft her lips are.
Wrapping her hands
around my neck, Moira pulls me down a little closer, and our mouths
move just a little harder against one another. My blood quickens as
my hands move from her face to her hips to pull her body into mine.
My cock starts to harden, and I understand now… how a soft and
sweet kiss can turn bolder, becoming so sensuous that sex would be
the next logical step.
Yes… sex is
definitely next on the list. That wasn’t my original thought
when I first kissed her, but it’s certainly my thought now.
My only thought as a
matter of fact.
Dropping my hands, I
swiftly put one hand under the hem of her skirt and run my fingers up
the inside of her leg. Moira gasps into my mouth and her hips flex
forward, seeking my touch. I slip one finger under the edge of her
panties at the crease of her leg, and take a swipe at her pussy. Warm
and moist… fucking perfect.
I sink my finger
into her, and Moira bucks against me. Her mouth pulls from mine
slightly and she bites my lip, causing me to jerk away. I look at her
with surprise, and her eyes challenge me to continue the kiss.
Fuck yeah, I can
take a little biting. As my finger pumps in and out of her, I crash
my lips back to hers and kiss her with savage need.
Moira’s hands
go to the button on my shorts and she works at it frantically,
practically ripping the zipper as she slams it down. Her soft, warm
hands reach in to take my cock and oh, fuck… that feels like
heaven.
I’ve never had
a woman’s hand on my cock before. So fucking good.
She strokes and
squeezes me, causing my finger to thrust harder into her hot flesh,
while my head spins with dizziness. I feel like I’m going to
break apart in just a few more short strokes of her hand so I rip
away from her, my chest heaving with the exertion of trying to
maintain some level of control.
Moira stands there,
her cheeks flushed, her eyes glazed, and her breathing just as heavy
as mine is.
I look down at my
hands, and they’re shaking.
Fucking shaking.
“Zach?”
Moira says softly.
My eyes rise to hers
slowly.
“I want to do
something to you,” she whispers. “I want to take you in
my mouth.”
Oh, fuck.
A seismic shudder
runs through my body at the thought. Yes, yes, yes. I want that very
much. Having her mouth wrapped around my cock, just like I saw that
woman in the video I watched. The imagery of Moira doing that to me
is almost too much to bear. I’m not sure I could keep control.
I’m fairly certain she would break me.
“No,” I
tell her. “Not yet.”
“What?”
she asks stunned. “But I want—”
“Turn around,”
I order her. “Bend over the kitchen table.”
“Zach?”
she asks uncertainly.
“Just do it,”
I order her. “I want to fuck you from behind.”
Because it’s
too intimate to stare at her face. I just can’t handle the
feelings that will invoke.
Disappointment fills
her eyes and, for a brief second, I reconsider. But I can’t let
her have the control. It’s the only thing left of my true
nature, and if she takes that, then she takes everything from me.
Moira inhales deeply
through her nose and lets it out softly through her mouth, before
turning away from me. But she doesn’t walk to the table,
instead striding right past me to her purse on the table by the door.
She grabs it and opens the door.
“I’m
going out to buy you a cell phone. I’ll be back in a little
bit.”
She doesn’t
even look at me again as she walks out the door and shuts it behind
her.