Chasing Shade Part 11

'Jesus,' Archie said this time. His hips shot up and he gave into it. Let himself go. It felt as if fire were shooting through his veins, eating him up, but in the most spectacular way. When he came, she just kept going. Licking down his length, spreading his come along his shaft, which brought an exquisite lubrication to the friction.

'f.u.c.k,' he groaned. How cliched was that? And then he laughed and laughed.

'What's so funny?' she whispered, dragging her pretty pink tongue up the back of his shaft before licking the tip of his c.o.c.k clean.

'You reduced me to dancing nerve endings and swearing.'

'Good,' she said.

Archie stroked her hair when she lay her head in his lap. She seemed exhausted but also wide awake. When she looked up at him he offered her the plate of cookies after popping one in his mouth.

'I'm good,' she said.

'You need to have one,' he said, chewing the b.u.t.tery sweetness.

'Why?'

'You're going to need your energy,' he said.

Betsey took a cookie.

He carried her through the low doorway to his new bedroom. Thankfully he remembered to duck when she hit the ceiling with her booted foot.

'Archie! My G.o.d!'

'What?' he asked, almost spinning around before remembering that would take her on a rather wild ride. He dropped her gently on to the bed, watched how lovely she was as she bounced, her dark blonde hair swirling in an eddy around her face.

'Look what you did! Pictures and sheets and blankets and...books.' She smiled, fingering the sheets she'd loaned him.

'The sheets are yours, sweetheart.'

She looked up at him with l.u.s.ty eyes. No trace of wine in her expression or her gaze any more. She was clear and she was gorgeous.

'I knew I had good taste.' She toed his crotch with the tip of her boot. His hastily b.u.t.toned fly grew tighter as he grew hard again.

Archie took her boot in his hand and tugged. Her foot came free and he dropped the boot to the floor. He grabbed her other foot and repeated the process. His finger danced along the arch of her foot for a moment and he watched her writhe and groan.

'Careful, you do that and you'll make me come.'

Archie laughed. 'From me rubbing your foot?'

Her dark eyes met his. 'Sweetie, I'm a waitress. I'm on my feet all day long slinging diner food. Yes...by you rubbing my foot.'

He rubbed a little harder and she gasped, laughing. He gave her another minute of foot-rubbing bliss and then bent to pop the b.u.t.ton of her jeans. When she wriggled her hips to help him get them off, Archie's heart kicked like it might stop right then and there. Her panties had purple and black stripes. Once he saw those he was pretty sure his heart would actually stop.

He pushed his fingers beneath the waistband and tugged slowly. He wanted to go slow. As slow as he could bear. He wanted to watch her be revealed, feel her beneath his fingers as he stripped her.

She watched him. 'You know,' Betsey said, her eyes s.h.i.+ny like she might cry, 'I'm having an awful lot of amazing s.e.x for a girl who's not having s.e.x.'

'Me, too,' Archie said. 'But not the girl part.' He held his breath, pulled those panties a little lower. 'I figure if this is the kind of s.e.x...' He looked up at her, weighed his words and then went ahead with them. 'If this is the kind of connection I end up with after a very long dry spell, well, then the dry spell was well worth it.'

The panties were low on her hips, the very top of her mound visible. Her hipbones jutted up and he stroked one with his thumb.

'Connection,' she repeated. It wasn't a question. It was an echo.

Her hips moved just a little when she s.h.i.+fted, but then she caught herself. It was a siren song to Archie. The subtle undulation of her hips. He bent to kiss one hipbone and then the other. He dragged his tongue along her skin, tasting the salt of her body and a faint hint of soap.

'I know,' Archie said, pulling the panties down to her thighs, 'that it was only the day before yesterday that we met, that you helped me. But G.o.d, Betsey...' He pushed his fingers into her wet folds. Found the hard knot of her c.l.i.toris and pressed it only briefly. When she exhaled slowly, he said, 'It seems like for ever. It seems like you've been with me for ever.'

He dragged his finger, relis.h.i.+ng the damp feel of her, back along her slit. She chewed her lower lip and watched him. 'I know. It feels like a very long time. Not a mere two days.'

'I'm glad you understand what I'm trying to say.' Then he drove his finger deep inside her.

Betsey parted her thighs, letting go beneath his ministrations. He leaned over her, pressing himself against her. When he kissed her, Betsey gasped softly against his lips. His fingers worked within her hot, wet depths. When she came, he wanted to feel it. Wanted to feel her p.u.s.s.y milking his fingers. Wanted to know that he'd done that. Given her that pleasure.

'Do you believe that...?' He shook his head, unsure how he wanted to phrase it. He didn't want to scare her. It was the last thing he wanted. But it scared him, too, and yet he marvelled at it. This collision between her life and his. The attraction of him to her and vice versa.

'Tell me,' she said. She wrapped her long, cool fingers around his wrist as he worked her with his fingers. He could feel her holding the skin above his slamming pulse. He could not wait his mind returning to it again and again to bury himself inside her. To get lost in her by being in her.

'Do you believe that two people can be attracted to each other and seek each other out in the same manner that people will crave food their bodies need for some reason? Like you'll crave salt if you're deficient? Or eggs if your B1 is low?' He grinned down at her. 'Weird conversation when I'm trying diligently to get you off with my fingers.'

'Use your thumb,' she breathed. He pressed his thumb to her c.l.i.t, curved his fingers in her p.u.s.s.y. Her eyes drifted shut and she smiled. Clearly lost in her pleasure.

'No,' she said. 'I don't.'

His heart fell but he kept moving, kept thrusting. He could feel her growing tighter.

Her eyes opened and she smiled at him, her fingers tightening around his wrist. 'At least not until the other day. Not until I met you. I feel like...' She shrugged, her eyes s.h.i.+ny again. He wondered if she'd cry and wished he had a way to tell her it was OK if she did. 'I feel like a big sliver of metal lost in the gra.s.s. And here you are, a big-a.s.s magnet. You know ' she chuckled ' like roofers use. And you swept along and then bam! You picked me up.' She sighed, thrust her hips. 'That probably made no sense,' she said. 'Because my mind isn't working. Because I'm going to come.'

He kissed her. Her eyelids, her nose and finally her lips. She parted them for him and he slipped his tongue into her mouth, feeling hers respond to him. 'It made perfect sense,' he said, swirling his thumb on her c.l.i.t a bit harder. 'All but one thing.'

'What's that?'

Archie bent to suck her nipple through her thin top. She was braless and that knowledge alone made him feel like it was Christmas morning. He sucked again, thrust harder and just as she began to spasm around his thrusting digits he answered her.

'The only thing that's off in what you just said is that I felt like the nail. And you were the big-a.s.s magnet that saved me.'

Chapter 15.

Betsey woke up and stared at Archie. It was early morning. The sky not quite lightening yet but threatening to. His dark hair fell over his forehead in places, while in others it stood up in sleep tufts and swirls. It made her smile to look at him at rest. He was possibly the best person she'd ever met.

Which made her wonder what to do.

Betsey turned on her side so that she faced him. She drew her knees up until she could feel the heat radiating off him. In his sleep, he reached for her. His arm draping across the swell of her hip. He mumbled something. Nonsense, really. But it showed Betsey he knew she was there. He was aware and he was happy.

She'd need to devote her Sat.u.r.day to it. She'd need to open some old wounds. She'd need to do something she'd sworn she'd never do. But yesterday had been her eye-opener. The equivalent of her bottom-of-the-barrel moment. Which had come in the form of almost prost.i.tuting herself for a fix right before arriving at the trailer park. Ironically, it had done for her mind what Eddie's death had not. It had woken her up to the nature of the darkness she carried around inside her and how far she'd go to blot it out.

She'd had her moment of clarity.

Now she needed to see if she was strong enough to have another. She hated Denton Jackson Miller, but not his daughter. She hated what he'd done but didn't want to punish an innocent for it. She wanted to be a better person, more for herself than for anyone else.

'What are you thinking over there?' he mumbled, tugging her closer.

Betsey's heart seemed to quake in her chest. It stole her breath. 'I'm just thinking.'

Archie cracked an eye. 'Yeah, I got that. But what are you thinking?'

'Nothing.'

'Not possible. We are all thinking always. Unless we're thinking about not thinking. Then the only thing in our heads might be the image of a lotus flower or whatever people focus on when they meditate. But not for long.'

Archie rolled onto her and her entire body went warm. More from want than from his body heat. Her body reacted on its own. She parted her thighs, bared her throat when he kissed her. His c.o.c.k rode the wet cleft of her p.u.s.s.y. They'd fallen asleep naked and wrapped around each other. Now she was grateful for the naked part.

'I guess you're right,' she managed. She pushed her hands into his mussed hair and held his head while he kissed a warm path from her neck to her breast. His mouth enveloped her nipple, his teeth found her and that small halo of flesh grew so hard it ached.

'What are you thinking right now?' he asked, kissing her ribs so softly she jumped. His fingers spread her, stroked her, slipped inside her, inciting a warm rush of pleasure.

'I'm thinking several things.'

'Like what?' He kissed her shoulder and moved over her. Rubbing his c.o.c.k along her drenched slit, he watched her face.

'Like why aren't you kissing me?' The last word broke off in a gasp because he was slowly pus.h.i.+ng into her.

'I just did kiss you.'

'My nipple, my side, my ' Another gasp because he was half in her, filling her up so well her mind was wandering from what she wanted to say.

'I am not kissing you on the mouth, dear Betsey, because I have morning breath. AKA dog breath.'

He caught her off guard and she snorted laughter. But the laughter turned to a groan as he thrust hard and she found that he was in her all the way. His body grinding against her c.l.i.toris as she held her breath, listened to her heart bang in her ears.

'Oh, oh...oh,' Betsey said as he rocked his hips, back and forth, forcing a friction between them that was brilliant and wonderful.

'What else?'

'What else what?' she asked. Her toes had curled and her fingers gripped him tight as she antic.i.p.ated a heady release. She was so close...

'What else are you thinking?'

'That I need to go back,' she blurted. Her body was still on the brink but her eyes filled with tears as her emotions got the better of her.

He let himself press against her fully and he took her face in his hands. He did kiss her and she smiled. No dog breath. 'Go back where?'

'To where it happened. To my home, it's been sold but...I think I just need to make sure my reaction to his daughter was right. This isn't her fault.'

He moved again, keeping her wet, keeping her primed. 'It's not yours either, Betsey.'

'I know. But maybe if I could just let it go...maybe it would be better for me. Me more than any of them.' She shoved her hips up, forcing motion. It stole her breath, that sudden burst of bliss. It rippled out from her pelvis in slow, lazy waves.

'If you need to do it, then do it. But I'd like to come.'

'You don't want to use your Sat.u.r.day '

'On you? I can't think of a better way to use a Sat.u.r.day,' Archie said. 'Starting it off this way was pretty smart of me if I do say so myself.'

Then he was shoving his hands under her bottom, thrusting into her, speaking sweetly in her ear and when she came she wondered what she'd done lately to deserve this. She couldn't think of anything.

'This is it,' she said.

They stood at the end of a dead-end street in the city. Lavender Avenue had seen better days, as had the houses on it. It had taken three and a half hours to get from Turner's Corner to the city. Archie watched her, feeling like he had to hold his breath. It was pregnant with memories for her, this place. Memories he couldn't even imagine having to deal with.

He tried to imagine a younger Betsey, in the school uniform she'd described, which may or may not have involved Doc Martens boots. Tried to picture her coming down here to get away and getting stuck.

Then his mind fast-forwarded to her trapped in the back of the car. Her being held. What kind of terror she must have felt. What kind of fear must have filled her?

He wanted to reach out, touch her, pull her close. But one look at her determined face and he knew he couldn't do that. He needed to let this play out the way it played out.

'I came this way and he followed. I recognised him, from delivering the mail,' she said. She bent at the waist, put her hands on her knees and her hair swung forwards to hide her face. He watched her. She looked like she might be sick. 'But it just felt off to me. Him following me. Him in general,' she said.

'Are you OK?'

'I feel dizzy. Like I might fall down. Or puke. Or die. Maybe all three,' she said. Then she laughed. It was a forced laugh, he could tell, but Archie thought it was one of the bravest sounds he'd heard.

'You won't. It's anxiety. Possibly a nice touch of PTSD to go with it.'

'PTSD? It was just '

'An abduction!' Archie snapped loud enough to make her jump.

'Archie.'

'I'm tired of you trying to downplay it, Betsey. Of course it could be PTSD. It was traumatic. It was a man taking you against your will, locking you in a car and attempting to take you off to G.o.d knows where. To do G.o.d knows what.'

'Rape,' she said. 'Torture. Torment.' She ran a hand through her long wind-blown hair. 'Take your pick.'

'I pick none. It's awful. Of course you have problems. It would be bizarre if you didn't, sweetheart.'

She looked at him like she wanted to come to him. Instead, she walked to the very end, near a small chain on two concrete posts. The sign said DEAD END.

'Nothing like stating the obvious,' Archie said, trying to joke.