Sommer Marsden's Blog, page 116

Wanderlust part 22 "Momentos"

Morning, all. Busy day that seems packed full of nothing, but packed nonetheless. Installment 22 is below and I have to say, pretty soon (if this thing follows the long meandering path in my mind) we get to find out a little more about the creamy caramel center of Mr. Johnny Rose.

Happy hump day, y'all.

XOXO
Sommer

Wanderlust
Part 22
by Sommer Marsden

We drove. We ate. We drove. We didn't talk. Gray skies and puffy clouds crouched row overhead and I wished, more than once, that I still smoked. Oh, there were smokes in the glove compartment but I didn't want to go there.

By mid afternoon the skies had opened up and rain pummeled the Chevy, at times switching to rain.

"This is heartening," I snarked.

He chuckled, flipping the windshield wipers to high. "You still pissed at me, Really?"

I considered it. Was I? My natural inclination is to anger and annoyance. If you look short tempered up in the dictionary it'll be my high school portrait you see. "No. I'm not pissed. I'm confused. I just don't know what the fuck that was, is all."

"It was a man acting like a jackass because you caught him off guard." He signaled for the exit and moved over when he had the space.

"Need to pee?"

"Nope. We're done for the day."

"Done!" I laughed. "It's only mid-day."

"Did you want to do the whole trip in a day? It's not really a trip if you do it all in a day. The whole point is to wander. To just go with the day and not run some agenda like a paper pusher."

Chewing my bottom lip I watched fat drops of rain roll down my window. "I guess you're right."

"Trust me, I am. And by the time we get some food, find the cabin, open it up, air it out and all that happy crap, you'll be glad we're not flying down the road in the dark with the rain and the flashfloods and—"

The rain turned to hail and beat the already battered primer gray hood. The car jittered like a person being punched.

"Hail," he finished. He was grinning but kept his eyes on the road.

"Where are we stopping? You said food? Diner food? Grocery food? Conveni—"

"Take a breath, Aurelia."

I did it. I sucked in a giant gulp of air and started to blow it out.

"Hold it, count to four, calm the fuck down, girly."

I counted to four before blowing the breath out like I was the big bad wolf. Neon signs and gaudy car dealerships flew by. Roadside stands with scrambling operators who were trying to protect their wares from the storm. They flurried and fluttered and rushed to control their environment. That's all I was trying to do—didn't he see that?—control a bit of mine.

"I'm okay."

"What do you want? Diner or grocery?"

Now that he said I could choose, I didn't know. Twisting myself into an emotional knot seemed to be a burgeoning talent. Normally, I just tamped everything down till I ran out and banged some stranger. The respite from the anger was brief, but it worked and hey, I got laid in the process.

"Diner?" I said.

"Is that a choice or a question?"

"Diner," I stated this time.

"Good. There's one right up the way. We can eat there and then grab some stuff at the grocery store for a snack later. A real snack. Not a rainbow colored snack made out of fake ingredients. Maybe cheese and crackers, a bottle of wine."

"Good." I rubbed my fingers along the thigh of my faded jeans. On the right leg, a spot was wearing thin. If I kept worrying my jeans like worry beads, I'd end up with a hole. But that was okay. Worn and beaten in things had character. Just look at you, Really.

"You are still pissed," he laughed.

"No, I'm not." I was telling the truth, too. I wasn't mad, but I was confused. However, the issue Johnny was picking up on wasn't anger, it was guilt. I felt so unbelievably guilt all of the sudden. It had settled over me like a wet wool blanket and my chest seized up—my insides smothered with the weight of it.

"What is it then?"

"Guilt," I sighed.

"Guilt, Aurelia Blake, is a useless emotion. It'll suck your soul dry and leave you a shell of your former self. It ranks right up there with should haves, could haves, and feeling like you owe someone something because they chose to help you at any given time."

He sounded like he knew what he was talking about and I saw my chance—that keyhole of a moment where if I pressed my eye up to his life, I might see something that helped me understand. I think he would have answered me if I asked him all the things I wanted to know right then and there.

But I didn't. I let the moment slide away as surely as the raindrops were sliding off the thick glass of the windshield.

"Hungry?" The car shivered when he turned it off. It was old car, it was a cold rain.

"I am starved."

"What do you feel like eating?"

I cocked my head, my mood lightening a bit. I batted my eyelashes at him, flirting. Yes, it was blatant and shameless but so what? "I want a greasy cheeseburger and fries," I said. "What about you? What do you want to eat, good sir?"

I had my hand on the door to get out but paused when he said softly, "You."

That blessed scorching lust rolled through me and I studied his full lips. That pouty mouth. I wanted it on me. His lips, his teeth, his tongue.

A smile broke across his face and he said, "When we've eaten, Snowflake. You get to be dessert." And then he was out of the car and I was trying to catch my breath.

"Name's Claire." The waitress slapped our filthy laminated menus down and pulled out her pad. As clichéd as it was, she scratched through her teased hair with her pencil while we waited. How much graphite was laid on that scalp of hers?

"I want an iced tea while we look."

"Make that two," Johnny said, not looking at her.

She rolled her dark green eyes that were currently surrounded by way too much gray kohl. It made her look older. Her face powder had settled in the wrinkles around her eyes and her lipstick had long ago faded. She looked tired. She looked fed up.

"Be right back." Her white shoes squeaked across the red tile floor as she walked like a woman headed o the guillotine.

Besides on couple in the back and an older guy at the counter, Johnny and I were the only patrons. I found my burger listed and put my menu down. "Number seventeen, sharp cheddar, lettuce, tomato and mayo. Fries." Just telling him what I was going to order had my stomach rumbling.

"I think I'm gonna play copy cat but with American and pickles on that bad boy too."

"Pickles? Blasphemy. A pickles place is on the plate beside the fries."

"Oh, Snowflake, you have so much to learn," he tsked.

I smiled at him. "What's in the box?" I said on a rush of air.

He stilled, his eyes going dangerous, his jaw going taut. "Really." It was a warning.

"What is it? It's killing me."

He shook his head. "Mementos." He turned his menu on its edge and tapped it, waiting for grumpy Claire to come back and save him from me and my prying ways.

"Hunh," I said, feeling miffed. I was pissed and frustrated that he wouldn't tell me. That I wasn't getting my way. Shocking, I know.

My life was a paradox. Mostly, I got whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted it. Until it was something big. Say, marriage, for instance. Those things…those things, I rarely controlled. Or to be fair, I wimped out and relinquished my control.

So my father would love me.

Pathetic.

"You don't strike me as a memento kind of guy," I finally said.

"Hunh." He mimicked me. "Funny. You don't strike me as a scared to go after what she wants kind of girl."

"Touché."

"What'll it be, kids?" Claire demanded.

We ordered and while Johnny tied a knot in his straw wrapper and looked vaguely pissed off at me, I climbed out of the shiny red booth. "Be right back," I said.

"Running out the back door?" he asked, smiling a little. But he was serious under there too. He knew I had it in me.

In the small hallway that led to the rest rooms, I pulled out my wallet and found the small plastic calling card. Thank god, the diner was a time machine, they actually had not one but two pay phones. I grabbed the heavy receiver and dialed the numbers on the card and followed the automated robot voice's instructions.

Then: Thank you for your business, your call is being connected…

I heard the click, the line was open and then, "Hello?"

"Jackson?" I said.

"Really?"

"Hi, Jackson. Yeah. It's me."

STAY TUNED
~photo credit...moi! (you were expecting that, weren't you)

Sooooo Stoked!

Totally fucking stoked. I am in the re-release of Alison Tyler's Slave to Love . I was brand-spanking-new (heh) to erotica when the original book came out. It was one of the first two erotic books I purchased and can still be found up on my erotica bookshelf. And now...I...me!...I get to be in the new version. My story A Secret King wraps up the book and the lovely Sophia Valenti's Recuerdos Agridulces is sitting smack dab on top of me. Making me say 'please', no doubt.

Wohoo!

XOXO
Sommer
p.s. Seriously. Isn't it gorgeous?

just when i am ready to surrender to my funk...

Yes. I am having one. An I-suck-as-a-writer funk. But the good news it, just as I was about to wave the white flag, I saw this five diva review for Learning To Drown. It perked me up a bit, which is saying something considering the weather woke me up at five and RuPaul and his lady-boys kept me up 'til 11:30. The good news about my writer funks is they are way less frequent than they were when I was a newbie. The bad news is...yes, they still happen. Blech.

Thanks to Dark Divas for taking the time to review me.

XOXO
S

Wanderlust Part 21 "I said I was sorry"

I'm early today. We just had the most insane storm. Woke me up at five because it was raining against the windows. All the windows, meaning the rain had no direct slant, it was hitting everything at once. Crazy.

So it woke me up and I ran down to see if the man was home because I was going to beg him not to leave in this stuff. But he was gone. So then the chicken--I mean wiener dog--followed me back to bed and we laid there for another thirty minutes. And I looked at him and said, "Okay, I surrender, I'm getting up."

Now, I'm up, there is coffee brewing and I am trying my best to make sense! The man is at work safe and I am uploading part 21 of Wanderlust just for you. Good morning.

XOXO
Sommer

Wanderlust
Part 21
by Sommer Marsden

Clover leafs always make me dizzy—those being the name of the exits onto and off of the Beltway in Baltimore. I was a trooper, though, as Johnny hit one about thirty minutes from his apartment.

My ass slipped a bit on the seat and I clutched the door handle to keep from going too far. "One unknown convenience store coming up," he said.

Growls emanated from my stomach and I blushed. "I think I'm hungry."

Johnny shook his head. "I think I'm starved but you wanted some epic journey to a new convenience store." He winked at me and I smiled.

"Sorry."

"Just kidding with you, Snowflake. New store, new journey, new adventure."

"Yes," I said, the word sticking in my throat.

"Still scared?"

"Yes."

"Still okay." He put his blinker on and it clicked like a metronome until he turned into the parking lot. A man rushed out with a tray of coffees followed closely by a woman clutching the biggest cup of coffee I'd ever seen.

"God the sun isn't even up and they're going to be damn near vibrating on caffeine."

"Rat race world, Snowflake."

Johnny parked the car nose-in to the store and I got out, my boots splashing in a puddle of melted snow. I was glad I hadn't worn my already bedraggled flats.

"I'll grab donuts, you get whatever—well, whatever it is you want here." He locked the car and slammed the door.

Inside the store, it was warm and bright and smelled of caffeine, sugar and mop water. We split up. I went down each aisle and in the third one I hit the jackpot. Fake fried onion ring snack foods, potato chips, pretzels from Hanover, PA. I grabbed a few bags and then turned the corner into…nirvana.

My eyes beheld chocolate and sour candies and gummy fruit candies and I just started grabbing. I do not afford myself the luxury of junk food often. And in my world, it's not the norm. Lobster and good cuts of meat and soufflés are the norm. Not candy that popped in your mouth when your spit hit it.

I think I grabbed one of everything. The clerk shoved my colorful mound of toxic colored snacks into two plastic sacks, giving me a frazzled, half-asleep smile. "Hungry?"

"Long trip," I said. My eyes darted inadvertently to the security camera. Fear seized me for a moment, but let's be real here. My father had money, he had some power, a lot of people feared him. But just as many people didn't know who he was. I doubted he could have ever security camera in the state scoured for my image.

I handed the woman a twenty and a ten and she gave me a few coins in return. Her gray hair hung in her gray eyes and she straightened her gray smock. She was a monochromatic person if I'd ever met one and her personality matched.

"Well, have a nice trip, chickie."

Another burst of psychotic butterflies in my belly. "I'll try."

Johnny was coming up the aisle from the donut display and I saw him with a tray of coffee. Opening my wallet again, I called, "Do you need—""

"I've got it," he growled, looking a bit annoyed.

He'd told me he didn't want my money. But I didn't think paying for coffee would be presumptuous of me. Apparently, I was wrong.

"I'll wait outside then." I headed out.

The air was cold and my breath fogged out of me in white spectral bursts. When he came out and unlocked he car and then popped my lock, I climbed back into the warm maroon womb of the car. I took the coffee he offered and sipped it, immediately burning my tongue.

"What's in the bag?" He looked amused again.

"Food."

"I don't think that's food, exactly."

"Snack food?"

"Better."

I ripped open the sack to show off my loot. "Look at it, I mean Christ, you'd think, to look at it, that I was pregnant or something."

The air changed, his face changed, his demeanor. Strong fingers were suddenly gripping my arm and he had me gasping with pain. "Why the hell would you say that? Are you—"

"I have an IUD!" I blurted, seeing what looked like a mix of fear and rage in his blue-blue eyes. "But now's a hell of a time to ask if you're going to get so freaked out by it."

"You're right. I was fucking stupid. I should have made sure. But you're not…I mean you don't think—""

"Johnny," I whispered, "let me go. You're hurting me. And not in a good way," I added, as tears sprang to my eyes despite my best effort to hold them off. To not let him see me cry. "I was joking. That's all. Joking."

He let me go. Forcing his hands over his scalp he blew out a breath. "Sorry," he said, but he wouldn't look at me. The car rumbled when he turned the key and we pulled out into the traffic.

"What the fuck was that?" My heart hammered so hard my temples throbbed and no matter how much I swallowed a few fearful tears still slipped out. I turned my head toward the window so he wouldn't see.

"I'm sorry," he said. Still staring dead ahead at the road before us. His jaw so tight he looked made of stone. "I overreacted."

"Fuck me, you think?"

"I said I was sorry, Aurelia," he said, merging back into traffic.

"Take me home," I blurted.

"No," he said.

"I'll—"

"What? Call on a cell phone you don't have? Jump out going seventy on the beltway? Bang on the windows and scream?" He zipped into the fast lane and clicked the radio on, doing a search until we hit music.

"Take me home," I said again.

"No." He put his hand on the back of my head for a moment, stroking my hair. He left it there until my breathing returned to normal. We were headed to Pennsylvania judging by the signs. "Come on, Snowflake. I said I was sorry. I never claimed to be perfect. Or even nice."

"Why not? Why won't you take me back?" I whispered.

Those blue eyes locked on mine for a second and I felt his gaze all the way down in the pit of my stomach. "Because you don't want to go home. You're scared. It's just an excuse."

I turned my face to the windshield and tried to ignore the fact that he was right. On the fucking money. I didn't want to go back. I was just terrified to go forward.

STAY TUNED...
photo credit moi, local stuff...

Wanderlust part 20 "...but it comes out wrong"

Well, we've hit the road, dear reader. Fingers crossed. We've also passed the 22K mark. Crazy. ;)

Happy Monday.

XOXO
S

Wanderlust

Part 20

By Sommer Marsden

"Wake up, Sunshine," he whispered in my ear.

"I thought I was Snowflake," I groaned.

Johnny laughed and I tried to get my eyes to open. I shielded my them with my hand even though the light filtering into the apartment was gray and not yellow.

"There's coffee," he said.

I sat up. I had fallen asleep on the sofa. After he dropped his little verbal bomb on me, I'd swiftly changed the subject. We'd eaten pizza and had beer and watched old movies, some that I could recite by heart. Prayers? Not often. They're junk mail…
At some point I'd fallen asleep and he let me stay there. His sofa was big and yellow and ugly and comfortable as hell.

I was tangled in a huge long sleeved tee that belonged to him, the wool socks I'd sort of claimed as mine and he's wrapped me in a tangled nest of mismatched blankets. "It's not that cold," I laughed, climbing free.

Johnny shrugged. "I couldn't tell how cold you were. Figured you'd kicked them off if you got hot."

The sky was gunmetal gray. No rain, no snow, but the wind licked at the eaves of the old house and I shivered. The steeple of the church was stark in the indifferent light of morning.

"Heat's on but it's not great," he said.

"Poor downstairs, neighbors," I said.

"Nobody down there. The floor is compromised."

I smiled. "That's reassuring since this floor rests on that floor."

"Nah, the problem's just in the kitchen. And it's braced. Here you go, Really. Up and at 'em." He handed me my faded jeans, neatly folded, and winked.

"Wow. Still warm."

"I washed and dried them while you slept."

"Laundering?"

"Couldn't sleep."

I followed him into the kitchen and let him pour and doctor me a cup of coffee. "Full service," I said, bending my head to sip.

He tugged a wave of my tousled hair with his fingertips. "Keep looking so good all bed headed and whatnot and you will get full service."

My stomach tumbled in over itself and I felt that new and yet familiar rush of undeniable lust for him.

"Why the early wake up call?"

"We're hitting the road today."

I smiled. But then the panic rushed in. "Tonight we'll need a hotel. I need clothes. We need—"

"We need to just get in and go. Enough chatting about it. Time to walk the walk if we're going to talk the talk."

"But the—"

"I washed and dried all your clothes. You can use some of mine. Next state we'll hit a store and you can get what you need to get. For today, we need to hit the road and if we make good time, my friend has a cabin we can stay in. I called him, no one's using it. It's all ours for a day or two."

"A cabin? Where?"

"You'll see. Don't' you like surprises?"

"Fuck no." But I stopped asking questions, knowing he wouldn't tell me.

"Do I have time for a shower?" The initial panic had grown teeth and sharp nails. It was clawing at me, gnashing its teeth and I was doing my best to still appear sane to him.

"You had a shower last night."

He was right. I set down my coffee and pushed my hair back, winding it tightly around my hand and yanking it just a touch. "Fine. I'll get dressed and brush my teeth."

He kissed my forehead. "Good girl."

I nodded. "Yes," I said. Which made no sense.

"We'll grab donuts or something on the way."

"We can just hit a convenience store," I blurted.

He watched me but said nothing.

"Come on, snacks!" I said, my voice a bit too high. A bit too cheerful. "You cannot do a road trip without snacks!"

"Why are you stalling, Really?"

I swallowed hard. "I'm not."

"You are. Go brush your teeth."

I dutifully turned to brush my teeth, get dressed, braid my hair—all that shit. I turned at the last second, wanting to yell at him. What's in your box? What's the deep dark secret you keep shackled in there? Why are you so fucking brave? An unexpected wave of anger rushed up and over me but when it bottomed out and I tumbled free of it, I ended up just stating a fact instead.

"Because I'm scared," I said from the doorway. My body turned toward the bathroom and the bedroom and that long narrow hall, but my face turned to Johnny.

"I know," he said calmly. "And that's okay."

Jesus. Was it okay? But I took him at his word and went to get ready.

I put it off as long as I could but finally, we were in the car. My meager stuff packed in a borrowed bag in his backseat. The trunk had a few boxes and a suitcase. I was right about Johnny. It hadn't taken much for him to pack.

"Is your box in the back?" I said before I really thought it over. My stomach was a mass of butterflies and I kept rubbing the leg of my jeans. My hands were swallowed by the cuffs of a beat up bomber jacket he'd given me to wear.

"Box?" The way his jaw muscles flexed said he knew what I meant.

"The one from yesterday. The one you were so intent on."

"It's in the trunk," he said, turning the key. The car roared to life and he pulled out of the parking space without another word.

I shifted in my seat. Good going, Aurelia. Start off a three thousand mile trip by pissing him off. But I couldn't' suck the words back in. I just had to roll with it.

He turned on his blinker to turn into the convenience store a few blocks down. I put my hand on his hand and he looked over, one eyebrow raised. He didn't look angry, just stern.

"Keep driving," I said. "Let's go to one I've never been to."

"What you want me to hop on the Beltway and then get off and then find one?" He laughed but it was a good natured laugh. I amused him.

"Yes, sir."

"Hey there now, I like the sound of that." But he settled back and turned up radio.

The Smithereens crooned about blood and roses as I watched the early morning commuters fly by—traffic moving around us in a dizzying dance. And I…I wondered just what the fuck I thought I was doing.

I want to love but it comes out wrong…Boy, did I fucking understand that feeling.

STAY TUNED
*photo credit moi...

Zombie sequel...

Done! Yay :)Mmm...tasty.

XOXO
S

Wanderlust Part 19 "...speechless for the moment"

Morning, all. Sick today. Wasn't sure if I'd get this written and get it up (heh). But here I am. And here it is. Part 19. I usually write a day's installment the night before and then reread it in the morning. Today, I nursed my coffee and my sickness and wrote it. Then I read it three times. But you know I suffer from eyes-know-what-brain-meant syndrome. So pass any boo-boos along to me if you see them.

Happy Sunday :)

XOXO
Sommer

Wanderlust

Part 19

by Sommer Marsden

That feeling was just as I imagined. The cool porcelain licking my belly as I leaned across its fluted lip to get at him. Johnny sat naked and docile in the tub that was barely filled with warm water. He'd let me smear shaving cream on his head only after making me take my clothes off.

Outside, the snow had stopped.

"Stay still," I said, excitement curling like a ball of smoke in my belly.

"I am still." His fingers came up to capture my nipple and he squeezed.

The goodness of that pressure enveloped me and made my heart race. "I have news for you, that's not still."

The razor swiped along his scalp gathering a line of foam and small bits of stubble in its wake. I swished it in the sink basin full of water so he wasn't sitting in it. I didn't want to cut him, but when he pinched both nipples, his body at an angle, I almost did.

"I'm almost done," I said. "Can't you…" I shook my head, making another line of clear skin with the razor's head.

"What? Behave? Who are you talking to, girly?"

That made me laugh and when I laughed my breasts shook and when that happened his voice grew thicker and he said, "Get in here."

I did. Taking a final swipe with the razor, I cleared his scalp, proud that there wasn't a single nick. Then I tossed the razor in the sink and climbed into the tub with him. Long ago, someone must have fitted the tub with a hose and nozzle and a pull-around curtain to afford the owner a shower. It was just good the tub had been preserved, original clawfoots were rare and special now. Something I cherished from my childhood. My fingers curled along the cool lip as I settled on him, straddling his hips and feeling the jut of his erection along the heat of my pussy.

"Is that all I get?" he teased.

"For the moment. I have to check my job." Leaning forward, I pushed my hands along his scalp to feel the smoothness of it. He held my hips patiently while I did a perusal of my work.

"And?"

"Good." My breasts pressed to his chest, the hair there tickling my skin. His heart was thundering almost as much as mine and that made me wetter still.

"You deserve a reward." Now it was his mouth that found my nipple and he licked until the pink flesh peaked and pebbled for him. Sucking hard, he drew me to him and I rotated my hips to accent the pleasure.

"I do deserve a reward."

"I'm going to fuck you."

"Here?" I joked, feigning surprise.

"Here. On the road. In dingy motels and in rest stops. Mountains, beaches, fruited plains." His thumb pressed my clit and I gasped.

"That's a lot of fucking." I raised up enough to fit him against me. To feel the heat and potential of his cock—ready to penetrate, but still just touching me from the outside.

He anchored me but didn't rush me.

I held my breath and studied him—muscular arms, flat belly, those surreal blue eyes, newly shaved head and knowing smile. He could read me like a book, or so it felt. He could smell my want and hear my heart and…

"Snowflake." That was all he said.

My pussy flickered—greedy, needy, willing—and I murmured some nonsense sound and sank down on him. Slowly. And inch at a time.

Warmish water eddied around my knees and his hips but not enough to cover us. Just enough to lap at the bottom of the tub and swirl with my movement.

Johnny reached up and caught my hands. I pressed down as he pressed up and I started to move. I imagined that I could feel the purpling flesh on my bottom beat with my heart. The bruises he had left on me were perfect. Pale lavender and pink and a tiny bit of red. Big enough for me to tell his hand had been there, small enough that they were just pretty lacy reminders of my spanking.

I rolled my hips, grinding my clit to him. My breath felt too big for my lungs.

"I like it when you come, Snowflake," he whispered. "I like to watch your face."

He was moving up under me. Just a hint of aggressive thrustin but enough to drive deeper. His cock battered all the places that needed him most.

"Why-why-why?" I breathed as I moved. My eyes drifted shut and I rocked against his body, working myself to the point of a nearly unbearable tightness.

"Because it's the only time you look peaceful," he said, trailing a finger from my breastbone to my belly button.

I grabbed the lip of the tub and held the chilled porcelain as I came. My head fell back, hair brushing my waist, breasts exposed to him—bared, really. When he took advantage and pinched them again—pinched hard—it ratcheted up my release to a staggering force.

I folded my body down over him, my chest pressed to his chest. Johnny caught my face up in his hands and held it, stroking my cheek as he continued to thrust. He was strong and the force of him moving up under me had me growing tighter again, wetter again, ready again.

"God." I chuckled.

"I'm flattered, but it's still just little old me." His mouth pressed mine in a harsh kiss and he grunted, moving up a bit faster, having gone from man to a more animalistic creature.

I felt his need and the force of it and all the hairs along my arms waved with the electrical charge of our coupling.

"Now," he said as if it was a password.

But it was. Because when he thrust up hard once more and I pressed down, we both came. Him bellowing his out against black and white tile and cool porcelain and those lazy yellow sconce lights on the wall. Me whispering mine against his lips as a small, but just as sweet, orgasm triggered all my internal muscles to milk him dry.

I sat up, breathing hard. My face flushed with heat and happiness. Still joined as we were, it was an awkward and comical stretch for me to turn and put the water on, but I managed. The tub started to fill and I spread myself out over him, remembering his gaze. Remembering him studying me.

I asked the dreaded girl question.

"So when we were, you know…"

He wound my hair around his hand, I could feel my God-given blonde tether growing shorter and shorter, and then he pulled my head back for a kiss. "Yeah?"

"When we were fucking, what were you thinking?"

God, even I hated that question. Until Johnny, I had very much prided myself on fucking like a man. Or what I thought a man fucked like. No preamble, no lead-up, damn the foreplay. Let's shoot straight to the chase—cock, cunt, orgasms, done.

"I was thinking lots of things."

Now I pulled away and sat up, still straddling him, the hot water licking my hips now. It was my turn to watch him. "Like what?"

"Like all the places I plan on bedding you down. Like you naked on some beach somewhere. Like you with another woman." He touched my chin with just the tip of his finger, watching me intently.

He caught the sound of me taking in a startled sip of air—the sound of a girlish gasp—and grinned. And then he finished up. "You with another man. I bet you'd be spectacular to watch."

"I—" But that's where I stopped. I didn't know what to say. He'd rendered me speechless for the moment.

A rare thing, indeed.

STAY TUNED...

better than Easter eggs...

New 'drawers'. As pretty as Easter eggs in a basket...
And homemade peppermint patties (got the fab recipe here). Though I messed up the "patty" part. They looked more like bon-bons. That did not stop boy child from inhaling them and asking for more.
XOXO
Sommer

Wanderlust 18 "Away"

Tada! Here I am. It's Saturday, it's raining, I have the last 50 pages of Stephen King's new book tempting me with its siren song. I have to take girl child to the mall for girlish things and I have to take the man to the deli so he can make delicious things and then...then I will have wine and give into that siren song. Have a great one, folks. XOXO Sommer
*photo by me

Wanderlust

Part 18

By Sommer Marsden

"Oh shit. My car!"

"We're on our way," he said and turned off of Belair onto Taylor. "I called Mitch so he didn't get a wild hair up his ass and have it towed."

Somehow the day had bled away. It was early afternoon already and my breakfast was long gone. "Can I buy you lunch? I'm loaded." I winked at him.

"Sure thing, pretty. I'll repay you in kind."

"How so?"

"Later."

That was all he said but my stomach flexed with lust.

At Mooney's, we had semi-decent shrimp salad sandwiches served with dill pickle spears and fresh potato chips. We drank tap beer and watched the snow—the day so dark it almost looked like dusk.

"We'll pull a map. Figure where we're going. What route we want to take."

"Don't you know the way?" I laughed. I wasn't worried. It wasn't like you could get lost with no real destination.

"Not really. Not a formal one. I usually meander. I drive until I can't drive any more. I find a place I like and I put down very shallow roots."

"How shallow?"

"They grow on top the ground."

Impulsively, I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. He let me. My lips lingered on that perpetual five o'clock shadow of his and after a moment, he turned his head and kissed me for real. His tongue brushed gently along my lower lip so that I sighed softly and then he pushed into my mouth, his tongue warm and tasting of hops.

"Keee-rhist," Mitch said. "Get a room." He put the check on the bar.

I laid down a fifty. "We'll do you one better," I said. "I'll take him home."

Mitch waggled his eyebrows comically. He was a bartender, he'd seen much worse than a kiss. But he played along nicely, moving to the cash register—old fashioned, not electric—and I waved him off. "Keep it."

"You sure?" Those eyebrows were up again, so far up they threatened to disappear into his receding hairline.

"Yep." It was a twenty dollar tip. It was the official kick off to my great escape.

"But—"

"Shut up and take it, Mitch. Snowflake knows what she wants and what she's doing." He put his hand on my back and guided me to the door. "Take care, man," Johnny said.

"You leaving?" Mitch cocked his head.

"For a while."

Mitch tipped a finger at him in a semi-salute. "Take it easy. Be safe."

"Always and never," Johnny said and we pushed out into the swirling white cold.

I started to shiver immediately, little bits of snow slipping into my flats—these shoes had seen their last days. The buttery thin leather would never survive so much wet and cold abuse. "Jesus."

"I have a jacket in the trunk—"

"Nah. So do I. I keep it in the trunk. And boots!" I laughed. "Fuck, I forgot them. I have boots."

I rushed to the car and popped the trunk with my remote. Inside were some hiking boots and socks I kept because I liked to stop to hike the Gunpowder as the whim took me. I also had a first aid kit, a poncho, a warm fleece jacket, a few bottles of water and granola bars. I propped my ass on the edge of the trunk and swapped out my wet soggy flats for my socks and boots.

"Not as cute," I said.

"Fucking sexy," he growled and hauled me to him. "Put the jacket on before you get pneumonia and follow me home. My head needs a shave. And you need my payment. In kind."

This time when I shivered, it had nothing to do with being cold.

I pulled the fleece on, hoping it aired out soon. I hated wearing stuff from the trunk—it always smelled of exhaust. I kissed him once, laughed like a teenager and jumped in my car. Johnny knocked the snow off the back window and the sides. I turned on the windshield wipers and thick white slabs of snow slid off the glass. My car was a big expensive luxury car picked by my father and Jackson. I hated it.

"Not much longer," I said to the car. "This might be our last ride. You're more appropriate for a rich soccer mom than the likes of me. I've been cheating on you with a sofa on wheels."

I was laughing at my own conversation witth my car, so my cell phone startled me when it rang. The tune I heard was the music from Halloween. It was my father.

"Daddy," I said as I pressed it to speaker phone.

"Aurelia, what in the merry hell are you doing?"

"Driving in the snow," I said. "So you're on speaker, just an FYI. I know how you are about stuff like that."

"I mean withdrawing that much money. Leaving Jackson and saying you might not be coming back. Telling him not to call you on your phone. He's your husband, Really."

"I'm aware."

"He's a mess, by the way."

"I'm sorry about that," I said, and I was.

I felt the car slip just a bit, a slow outward curve away from the yellow line. I fought the knee jerk reaction to over steer. Instead, I gently nudged the wheel until the car righted itself. No one had predicted this snow, so the plows were unprepared. They'd be out soon enough but for now, people were either driving too fast or too slow for safety. Up ahead, Johnny stopped at a red light.

There was a silence on my phone. One I was very familiar with. The disapproval silence. The silence that usually broke people who had not been raised by my father. "I'm not coming home because you are giving me the evil eye," I said, softly. The car was like a rolling vault. No noise permeated it but for the gently lulling sound of the blowers generating heat.

"You can't see my eyes, Aurelia."

"I can hear your stare," I said. He couldn't see my wry smile. Too bad for him. "Plus, it's a figure of speech, daddy."

"Where are you?"

"I told you, I'm driving."

I flashed my lights and gently tapped my horn. Then I made a right into the Bi-Rite parking lot. I pulled my car along the last row where the dumpster sat. I saw the Chevy turn in the opposite end. Johnny had caught my signal. Good thing, I realized I had no number to call him on should we get separated. I was going to run off with him but had no contact info.

"Where are you staying?"

"Not sure."

"Aurelia!"

"I'm taking a little break, dad. A holiday. Think of it that way. You wouldn't be all torque up if I said I was going to the Bahamas for a week."

"Are you?"

"No."

"And you wouldn't tell your husband not to call you if you were just going on holiday," he said.

"You chose him, daddy. Basically, he's your husband." I had to bite my tongue then. The thought of being gone had gone to my head like strong wine. I was damn near giddy with it.

He sighed mightily as if I were an unruly child instead of a grown woman. "Where are you going?" he said.

It never occurred to him that I wouldn't tell him, I don't think. And that made me almost sad for him. It never crossed his mind that I might not illuminate him on the whole damn scenario.

"Away," I said and punched the button to turn off the phone.

I cut the engine and the lights. When Johnny walked up, I opened the door. "What's up?" he said.

"GPS. Forgot about that."

He laughed softly and tapped my temple with his finger as I stood. "Always thinking."

I clicked the remote twice and armed the alarm. The car would be safe…or it wouldn't. It really didn't matter to me anymore.

I thought about it—reconsidered—finally made up my mind. I unlocked the car, tossed the cell phone in and then hit the button again so the alarm chirped at me a second time.

Ready this time? it seemed to ask.

"You betcha," I whispered. I turned to Johnny who was watching me with some amusement and a ton of patience.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Ready," I said.

STAY TUNED...

82

It was a very good year...Heh. I was 11! I was poking around and saw that my lovely antho Coupling (complete with authors like Alison Tyler, Craig Sorensen, Jeremy Edwards and Alison Seay) is #82 on the Kindle Bestselling Fiction Anthos list! It was on the best selling paperback book list too, but I missed the print screen moment and at 3:01 I fell off the bestseller cliff :) Behold: