Sommer Marsden's Blog, page 21
July 16, 2014
A Many Splintered Thing / Day 8: "Just, something has changed. We need to talk."
Happy Hump Day :) Here we go...day 8 already.
Just a friendly reminder, if you're enjoying AMST and didn't catch our first trip here on Unapologetic Fiction it was Wanderlust. Found all over the place including HERE.
XOXOSommer
Day 8
Texas, New Mexico, Arizona…he drove as close to non-stop as a human body could get after that bout of dreams. Alice sat patiently beside him. Caleb thought it might have something to do with the fact that she realized she was getting farther and farther away from Martin the terrible.
He ate gas station food—always risky—diner food and when in Texas some amazing roadside food. He caught a few hours sleep here and there at rest stops and in the parking lots of the restaurants he frequented. He managed not to get booted once, a fact he was oddly proud of.
When he hit Pasadena, Caleb pulled over and called Jasmine. The phone rang and rang and he sighed, putting his head down. “Thanks, Jas. I finally get here and you don’t answer your fucking phone.” He left her a quick message to call him.
His eyes were scratchy and way back in his skull they seemed to ache. He was tired. Way more tired than he could remember being. He’d avoided long bouts of sleep since he’d dreamed about his dad. It had more to do with the reminder of the verbal flayings than the physical abuse.
He thought that usually flesh wounds healed better than invisible ones.
Caleb found a coffee shop, ordered a cup of coffee and three jelly donuts. The man who put them at the counter looked at him and said, “You look like three pounds of shit in a one pound bag, my friend.”
Caleb looked at the guy, mouth hanging open. Was this what passed for hospitality in California? He’d never been before so he wasn’t sure. It was like the guy in Texas who had told him he looked ‘fit to fall down’.
“I..um…”
“No offense,” the guy said.
Caleb squinted at the name tag. “Thanks a lot, Britt.”
The guy grinned and in that moment Caleb saw a surfer working a day job. He was all hang ten and gnarly and beach blonde hair. Caleb laughed downing half the coffee in a swig and demolishing a donut in three bites.
“I only say that as a fellow insomniac,” the guy said. He poured himself a cup of coffee in one of the plain white mugs and sipped it black.
“I’m not so much an insomniac as…I’ve been avoiding sleep.”
“Ah, dreams?”
“Dreams.”
Britt the surfer nodded, thoughtfully, watching the traffic—both foot and otherwise—outside the plate glass windows.
Caleb checked the window. He’d tied Alice to a bike rack out front. She was in the shade, lying there, also watching foot traffic but he still felt bad. “Can I get a bowl of water?”
Britt looked at him, cocked a pale eyebrow. “Coffee’s not enough for you?”
Caleb laughed, inhaling the second donut. “It’s for my dog.”
“Is that your dog?” Britt nodded toward the window.
Caleb nodded. “Yep. That’s Alice.”
“Does your dog bite?” Britt asked.
Caleb chuckled remembering the Pink Panther movie he’d seen as a kid. When Britt raised both eyebrows he cleared his throat. “Sorry. No. Not to my knowledge. I don’t think it’s in Alice to bite.”
“Bring her around back, then. To the kitchen door. I’ll give her a burger and some water.”
“Oh, you don’t have to—“
“Come on, man. I’m a sucker for a pretty furry face. And look, it’s not like we’re hopping in here.”
Caleb glanced around the coffee shop. Two other patrons sat in two separate booths. They looked to be regulars by the way they had their work stuff all sprawled out and their breakfast remnants around them.
“Cool.” He rose to get Alice. “Thanks, man.”
“No problem.”
He led her around back where Britt had the door open and was waiting. “Well, look at this. Hello, dollface.”
He put a plate bearing a burger on the ground at his feet and then stepped back. Alice tried to gauge him. Caleb saw her cower just a touch—nothing like before—and then she slunk forward slowly, eyes on the new guy. Caleb touched her forehead. “Go on.”
At his word she looked a little braver and after sparing Britt one more glance, she went for the burger, eating it in three big chomping bites. Then she was okay, sitting down right there at Britt’s feet as if to say, That was good. Got any more?
Britt held out his hand and Alice went to him. “I don’t want to give her too much grease.”
“She’s good,” Caleb said. “I’ll give her some kibble. It’s no hamburger but she likes it.”
Britt put down a bowl of water and they both watched her go to town. Then she went to a patch of shade and stretched out near a crate. “She’s okay here if you want to go up and finish your coffee and donut. And then…” Britt scratched his head. “Not to be nosey but once upon a time I rolled into town with a single duffle bag and very little money. I looked a lot like you. So if you want to pull your car around here and put your head back and snooze a bit no one will roust you. This is parking for employees only and I’m the only one working today.”
Caleb considered saying no. But then he did a physical inventory of his exhausted body. His eyes felt scratchy and full of sand, his limbs heavy. His back ached and his ass hurt. He wished it was a bed but maybe putting the seat all the way back and taking a nap wouldn’t kill him. Alice seemed fine and Jasmine hadn’t returned his call.
Which set off alarm bells somewhere deep inside him. He pushed the thought away and focused on the present moment. Coffee, donuts, sleep.
“I would love to say no,” he said.
“But you’re just that tired,” Britt said. Inside the shop someone called his name. “Coming,” he yelled.
“I am just that tired. I’ll come in and finish and settle up and then I’ll pull around here if you’re sure.”
Britt smiled. “Cool. I’m sure.”
Caleb hooked Alice to the bumper, afraid she’d either wander off or someone would notice and he’d get in trouble. He looked into her dark brown eyes. “Don’t worry, it’s only a bungee cord.”
After his last donut, the dregs of his coffee and paying the meager tab, Caleb pulled around back and into the shade. He left the passenger door open and unhooked the dog. “I’m trusting you not to go anywhere. You can get in if you want. The door is open.” Then he reclined the seat and threw an arm over his eyes. It was quiet behind the coffee shop. No one walking past, no one driving by.
He was out almost instantly. Like drawing a shutter on the day. It was only when he heard his phone and Alice started sniffing his face and licking him that his eyes opened. The sun was much lower in the sky and his mouth tasted like death.
He fumbled for the phone, seeing on the display that he’d slept away at least three hours. And it had been a hard sleep. He felt slightly stunned and more tired than when he started. It was Jasmine.
“Jas, where the hell were you?”
“I…” She stammered and that only meant one thing. She was upset. “I was here but I couldn’t answer. I can give you directions if you want. Where are you?”
“I only need the address for the GPS, but what’s going on? What’s wrong?” He thought of Bob and Belinda and the comfy bungalow he’d left to drive all the way across country, rescue a dog from a waste of human flesh and sleep in a parking lot. His stomach felt heavy like he might be sick. It had nothing to do with the donuts and everything to do with her tone of voice.
“Nothing…” She sighed. “Everything. Just, something has changed. We need to talk. But first you can get here and then…” She was silent for a second. “Then I’ll fill you in.”
He got the address, punched it into the GPS and ran in to thank Britt. Britt gave him a bag of food someone had neglected to pick up, a tall coffee and his card. “Call me if you need to. If you get in a pinch, need a job, get lost…or if you just want to get a beer.”
“Thanks, man.”
“Good luck. Hang loose.”
Caleb chuckled at that. “You, too. Thanks for the food.”
In the Jeep he ate as he drove, following the monotonous voice of the GPS lady. All he could think as he headed toward Jasmine was, Fuck. What am I walking into?
photo credit: roboppy via photopin cc
July 15, 2014
A Many Splintered Thing / Day 7: He’d dreamed of his father. Of beatings and belittlings. Of pain and pettiness.
[image error]
Today was supposed to be chemo day. That has changed. For now chemo is on hold. That being said, here's ay 7. Can you believe we're on day 7 already? Time flies...
XOXO
Sommer
~~~~
“Hold on,” he said. Caleb covered the tiny mouthpiece on the phone and eyed Alice. He sighed. “Down girl.”
She looked surprised, cocked her head. When Caleb repeated the command she heaved a hefty sigh and dropped to the floor. She walked to the chair at the foot of the bed and curled up half under it. There. Look what you’ve made me do the dramatic production said.
He shook his head. “I’m back.”
“Now where is that hand?”
“Where you wanted it.”
This time it was Jasmine who sighed. “Say it, Caleb.”
“On my cock. My dick.”
“Blah. You know I hate that word,” Jasmine said, but she sounded turned on anyway.
“On my big, thick, dick, Miss Jasmine,” he said, teasing her.
“Fine. Whatever you want to call it, call it, just…” She gave a shivery breath he had to admit, it went straight to the center of him. The sound she made caused him to stroke his cock for real. Not just to amuse Jasmine.
“Just what?”
“Just touch it,” she laughed. Then, he could picture her schooling her face for the next bit, “Just stroke it. Think about me. Think about all the dirty things we’ve done together.”
That wasn’t hard.
His thumb stroked over the slick tip of his cock. He spread that tiny bit of pre-come along his skin making it silken.
“Think of all the things we’re going to do once you’re here,” she said. “God, once you’re here.”
There was a moan buried in her words and he could picture her, long elegant fingers flying along her pussy lips, her clit. She was always rough with herself. So much more so than he could ever bear to be when they were together. Unless the entire session had taken a lean toward rough. Then he was fine. But she almost got off as if she were punishing herself for some long-ago sin.
“Once I’m there,” he echoed, not realizing he was going to until he spoke. He stroked his cock harder with a tight fist. He arched his hips and found the sounds of her—doing whatever she was doing on her end—really did add to his pleasure. He was on the track to coming so much faster than he’d have been lying here in the dark, alone, thinking of nothing and everything all at once.
“I want you here, Caleb,” she said, a little breathless. “God, I want you here. I want you under me. I want to kiss you. I want you on top—don’t think I don’t know how much you get off on pinning me down and making me shut up and fucking me until I beg you—“
He felt himself slip an inch closer to release and clenched his jaw against coming too fast.
“I want you inside me. I want your mouth on me,” she whispered. He heard an echoing whisper, he thought, of her touching herself. The rustle and whoosh of slim fingers moving over tender, wet skin. “You have the best mouth,” she whispered into the phone. “I’m not kidding. When you go down on me…it’s like a fucking religious experience. And I don’t believe in that stuff.” She laughed wildly and he could tell she was close. Just by the cadence of her breath and the desperate nature of her voice.
“Going down on you is nothing but a pleasure,” he whispered. “You taste like honey and sunshine and dare I say it…flowers? You pretty much taste like summer, Jas.” He found his hips arching up, his body taking over since his mouth was running. Every bit of him prompting him to come. Because at this point it was clear he would come and he wanted to come with her.
“My favorite,” she said. “And by the way I just rolled to my belly. My hand’s trapped underneath me. And fuck me…I am so close to coming just remembering this stuff. Imagining it—wishing for it.” She exhaled a long breath and went on. “My favorite is when you’d go down on me, and suck my clit. You have this way of sucking that just…bores into the center of me. And then you’d stick to of those wicked thick fingers inside me and find my G-spot and…”
He thrust up hard into his fist, bit his lower lip, called up the memories she was describing and when she said, “Oh, Jesus, Caleb. Fuck. Fuck me…”
He came with her. Emptying over his own gripping hand, with her still so far-far away from him that touching her for real was nothing but a pipe dream.
“Well?” she sighed. Caleb could tell she was smiling.
“Well, success. We have lift-off, Captain. We have…an orgasm!”
“Good! Now how long, baby? How long until you’re here?”
“Few days, “he said, finding a box of thin, pathetic tissues to wipe his hand off.
“A few days!”
“Yes, Jas. A few days and then you’ll let me know where I’m going and we’ll figure this out. I don’t have a job. I don’t have a place to stay. I don’t have…shit.”
Nothing waiting for me but you, he thought.
That made him nervous.
“We’ll figure it out,” she said. “I’ll help you.” Her voice had grown softer. “I think someone’s calling me. I have to go. I’ll see you soon, lover.”
And she was gone.
Caleb snapped the phone shut and plugged it in to charge. He got up, washed his hands and his face. He turned on a terrible sitcom, grabbed a cold beer and reloaded the ice bucket with another can. Then he called Alice up on the bed with him. She looked hesitant at first and then she was totally forgiving.
“Good girl,” he said, patting her head. “It was just weird is all.”
She settled her head down not arguing with his assessment of dog-on-the-bed-during-pseudo-sex.When Caleb woke an hour later, his beer tepid, his dog sleeping, his breath coming hard inside a chest sheened with cold sweat he did a body check. Old habits die hard. He touched his face, his neck, his chest, his arms…for blood. He’d dreamed of his father. Of beatings and belittlings. Of pain and pettiness.
He rolled over once his heart calmed down. He left the TV running and the beer to grow warmer. He put a hand on Alice’s side to feel her breath. He was grateful he’d rescued her because he was certain she’d rescued him in return.
photo credit: Thomas Hawk via photopin cc
XOXO
Sommer
~~~~
“Hold on,” he said. Caleb covered the tiny mouthpiece on the phone and eyed Alice. He sighed. “Down girl.”
She looked surprised, cocked her head. When Caleb repeated the command she heaved a hefty sigh and dropped to the floor. She walked to the chair at the foot of the bed and curled up half under it. There. Look what you’ve made me do the dramatic production said.
He shook his head. “I’m back.”
“Now where is that hand?”
“Where you wanted it.”
This time it was Jasmine who sighed. “Say it, Caleb.”
“On my cock. My dick.”
“Blah. You know I hate that word,” Jasmine said, but she sounded turned on anyway.
“On my big, thick, dick, Miss Jasmine,” he said, teasing her.
“Fine. Whatever you want to call it, call it, just…” She gave a shivery breath he had to admit, it went straight to the center of him. The sound she made caused him to stroke his cock for real. Not just to amuse Jasmine.
“Just what?”
“Just touch it,” she laughed. Then, he could picture her schooling her face for the next bit, “Just stroke it. Think about me. Think about all the dirty things we’ve done together.”
That wasn’t hard.
His thumb stroked over the slick tip of his cock. He spread that tiny bit of pre-come along his skin making it silken.
“Think of all the things we’re going to do once you’re here,” she said. “God, once you’re here.”
There was a moan buried in her words and he could picture her, long elegant fingers flying along her pussy lips, her clit. She was always rough with herself. So much more so than he could ever bear to be when they were together. Unless the entire session had taken a lean toward rough. Then he was fine. But she almost got off as if she were punishing herself for some long-ago sin.
“Once I’m there,” he echoed, not realizing he was going to until he spoke. He stroked his cock harder with a tight fist. He arched his hips and found the sounds of her—doing whatever she was doing on her end—really did add to his pleasure. He was on the track to coming so much faster than he’d have been lying here in the dark, alone, thinking of nothing and everything all at once.
“I want you here, Caleb,” she said, a little breathless. “God, I want you here. I want you under me. I want to kiss you. I want you on top—don’t think I don’t know how much you get off on pinning me down and making me shut up and fucking me until I beg you—“
He felt himself slip an inch closer to release and clenched his jaw against coming too fast.
“I want you inside me. I want your mouth on me,” she whispered. He heard an echoing whisper, he thought, of her touching herself. The rustle and whoosh of slim fingers moving over tender, wet skin. “You have the best mouth,” she whispered into the phone. “I’m not kidding. When you go down on me…it’s like a fucking religious experience. And I don’t believe in that stuff.” She laughed wildly and he could tell she was close. Just by the cadence of her breath and the desperate nature of her voice.
“Going down on you is nothing but a pleasure,” he whispered. “You taste like honey and sunshine and dare I say it…flowers? You pretty much taste like summer, Jas.” He found his hips arching up, his body taking over since his mouth was running. Every bit of him prompting him to come. Because at this point it was clear he would come and he wanted to come with her.
“My favorite,” she said. “And by the way I just rolled to my belly. My hand’s trapped underneath me. And fuck me…I am so close to coming just remembering this stuff. Imagining it—wishing for it.” She exhaled a long breath and went on. “My favorite is when you’d go down on me, and suck my clit. You have this way of sucking that just…bores into the center of me. And then you’d stick to of those wicked thick fingers inside me and find my G-spot and…”
He thrust up hard into his fist, bit his lower lip, called up the memories she was describing and when she said, “Oh, Jesus, Caleb. Fuck. Fuck me…”
He came with her. Emptying over his own gripping hand, with her still so far-far away from him that touching her for real was nothing but a pipe dream.
“Well?” she sighed. Caleb could tell she was smiling.
“Well, success. We have lift-off, Captain. We have…an orgasm!”
“Good! Now how long, baby? How long until you’re here?”
“Few days, “he said, finding a box of thin, pathetic tissues to wipe his hand off.
“A few days!”
“Yes, Jas. A few days and then you’ll let me know where I’m going and we’ll figure this out. I don’t have a job. I don’t have a place to stay. I don’t have…shit.”
Nothing waiting for me but you, he thought.
That made him nervous.
“We’ll figure it out,” she said. “I’ll help you.” Her voice had grown softer. “I think someone’s calling me. I have to go. I’ll see you soon, lover.”
And she was gone.
Caleb snapped the phone shut and plugged it in to charge. He got up, washed his hands and his face. He turned on a terrible sitcom, grabbed a cold beer and reloaded the ice bucket with another can. Then he called Alice up on the bed with him. She looked hesitant at first and then she was totally forgiving.
“Good girl,” he said, patting her head. “It was just weird is all.”
She settled her head down not arguing with his assessment of dog-on-the-bed-during-pseudo-sex.When Caleb woke an hour later, his beer tepid, his dog sleeping, his breath coming hard inside a chest sheened with cold sweat he did a body check. Old habits die hard. He touched his face, his neck, his chest, his arms…for blood. He’d dreamed of his father. Of beatings and belittlings. Of pain and pettiness.
He rolled over once his heart calmed down. He left the TV running and the beer to grow warmer. He put a hand on Alice’s side to feel her breath. He was grateful he’d rescued her because he was certain she’d rescued him in return.
photo credit: Thomas Hawk via photopin cc
July 14, 2014
A Many Splintered Thing / Day 6: God help him but it elicited a Pavlovian response in him. His dick got hard, his ears perked up.
I keep posting on Twitter and FB in the morning that I've written my entry and that it will go up later. I've done this nearly every day since I started. So...duh...let's just say I wouldn't look for AMST until after noon or so on any given day. On a day like tomorrow (the man starts a new chemo and it's an all day affair, sadly. 7-8 hours.) you might not see me at all. But I'll try.I have officially settled into an addiction with this thing. LOL. This entry is longer than normal. They seem to flow easier and easier at this point. We'll see when/if that changes.
Happy Monday.
XOXOSommer~~~~~
She didn’t have to love him. He realized that. In fact, for the most part, he was fine with that. But Caleb couldn’t help but wonder her intentions. Was he just a quick change from what she’d grown accustomed to? Or maybe something to flaunt in Harrison’s face.
In the past Caleb and Harrison had a stilted politeness between then. Harrison almost seemed to like Caleb and Caleb had felt kind of bad for Harrison. His feeling being that the young man was a pawn and no more interested in marrying Jasmine as she was in marrying him.
A cluster fuck is what it had been.
“And I don’t believe in love. Not really,” he told Alice. She panted softly and broke from looking at the scenery to gaze at him. She grew bored quickly and went back to keeping watch on the Oklahoma landscapes.
His stomach rumbled and he glanced at the dog. She looked at him again, thumped her tail and seemed to grin. “If I’m hungry, I’m sure you are too,” he muttered. He kept his eyes trained on the passing green signs, searching for a blue one. Finally, lodging and gas 25 miles popped up and he sighed. Some food and a place to sleep would be good. The sun was going down and the sky looked like possible rain. The Wagoneer had grumpy windshield wipers. Sometimes they worked perfectly and other times they barely did their job.
The last thing he needed was to get pulled over for something like windshield wipers.
He pulled into a gas station, the first he found, and filled up the Wagon. Then he used the rest room, took Alice to a patch of grass and stuck his head in the convenience store portion. The clerk looked up from his smart phone and raised his eyebrows.
“Nearest motel? Like cheap-cheap kind of place?”
The guy grinned. “One hour and out kind of place?”
Caleb laughed, shook his head. “Not that cheap. Just an overnight that won’t charge me and arm and a leg and doesn’t give a shit about Wi-Fi or cable. Just somewhere to crash. Literally.”
The guy’s phone burbled and drew his attention away for a second. Then he looked back to Caleb. “There’s a small mom and pop restaurant down the road about seven miles. It’s bright green, you can’t miss it. Beyond that, I want to say nine or so miles is a motel. Little cabins. The name is something tropical, I think. But don’t quote me on that.” He grinned. “I don’t think you need to worry about Wi-Fi at that place.”
Caleb nodded. “Thanks. Appreciate it.”
They guy didn’t notice. His eyes had strayed right back to his phone.
“See,” he said to the dog, starting the Jeep. “This is why I have a dumb phone.”
Alice didn’t respond, she was busy watching a squirrel raiding a bird feeder by the restrooms. Caleb hoped the motel allowed pets. He wasn’t’ sure what he’d do if they didn’t.
He drove past the restaurant and finally found the motel. It was the Sand Dune, which made him laugh seeing as there wasn’t any sand for many, many miles, unless you counted sandboxes in surrounding neighborhoods, which was doubtful.
The guy in the office took his money, grunted at the mention of a dog and mumbled something about twenty dollars extra which Caleb didn’t argue about. He just handed it over. He wasn’t leaving the dog in the car and he wasn’t getting into a pissing contest with a man who looked as friendly as a rabid badger. He pulled around to unit five and put his bags in the room. He fed Alice, gave her water and then took her out on a leash he’d managed to make with a bungee cord. It was only for show because he didn’t want to get hung up with leash laws.
“I’ll be right back. Running down to that place to get some food and then you and I have a date with a six pack, if I can find one, and bad movie on cable.”
She climbed onto the bed, wagged once and shut her eyes. He was glad to see she’d gone from cowering in the dirt to assuming she was welcome on his bed. It made Caleb feel a little lighter on the inside. He might have trouble loving people but he was really starting to love that mutt.
The waitress—Dottie, dontcha know—had just brought him an iced tea when the phone rang. The number showed a California area code so he answered.
“Where are you, Caleb?”
“I’m in Oklahoma. I ran out of steam.”
“Ran out of steam? Why can’t you just take a plane like a normal person?”
He dumped three packets of sugar in his tea and began to stir. “Well, for one thing, I can’t afford a ticket. Not really. And then I’d have no car—no vehicle, Jas—you know how I feel about that.”
“Yes,” she sighed. “A man needs his own wheels. Above and beyond all things.”
He chuckled. “You remember.” Dottie came his way, holding a plate piled high with an open faced turkey sandwich and fries. He’d really need to hit the gym or run every morning for a few weeks to make sure the sitting all day and eating on-the-road food didn’t go right to his gut. Or his arteries.Dottie set it down in front of him, winked and whispered, “Catsup? More tea?”
Caleb shook his head no and gave her an OK symbol with his hand. Then he mouthed “sorry”. He was a firm believer that talking to someone on a cell phone when a real live person was standing there was the epitome of rude.
She winked again, and bustled off, wide hips swinging. Caleb was almost certain Dottie had been a real looker in her day.
“The point is, where areyou?”
“I told you where I am.”
He could hear her frowning. He could sense her annoyance.
“Look, Jasmine, I’m not piloting a time machine. I’m driving an old Wagoneer across country. For you, I might add. And it’s going to take a few days. And that’s with pushing myself to the point of exhaustion.”
“Fine,” she said. That clipped I’m-not-happy Jasmine tone he did not miss. Not at all.
“You can stop pouting now.”
“I’m not pouting,” she said.
“Hmm, sounds like it.”
“Caleb. Don’t be an ass.”
He inhaled deeply and then held the breath for a moment before exhaling. The flip side to them being a menace together in bed was out of bed she could make him quite insane. He’d almost forgotten that. Hadn’t taken long to remember, though, and he wasn’t even to the right state yet.
“I have to go. I have a hot meal in front of me and a hot brunette waiting for me back at the room. Call you later,” he said, hitting the end button.
Cruel, yes. But he felt a tiny bit justified for it. The phone instantly began to ring and he smiled, laughing to himself. Okay, a lot cruel and only a tiny bit of justification but Jesus. What did she want from him? Did she want him to materialize there? She wanted him to be at her beck and call. Another Jasmine trait he’d forgotten and not missed.
Back at the hotel he stuck a beer—he’d managed to find a six pack—into an ice bucket full of ice. When it rang, he gave in and answered the cell phone. “Yes, Jas?”
“What do you mean you have a hot brunette back at the hotel?”
Caleb didn’t say anything, he simply held the phone up to Alice who promptly licked the receiver and then began to pant. He couldn’t help but laugh when he put the phone back to his ear. “Her name is Alice and she’s about a hundred or so pounds give or take a few. I think she’s part Rottweiler and part Lab. But don’t quote me on that. She likes meaty kibble and long walks on the—“
“Jesus, Caleb,” Jasmine sighed. “That’s not funny.”
“I think it is,” he chuckled.
“I miss you, baby,” she said.
He picked up that purr in her voice. God help him but it elicited a Pavlovian response in him. His dick got hard, his ears perked up.
“You remember that time I gave you a hand job at his birthday party?”
By ‘his’ she meant her father and fuck yes. Yes, he did. Caleb wasn’t fool enough to think that hand job ad been about him. It had been all about daddy-dearest, but as they say, beggars can’t be choosers.“It was right there under the table. With that stuffy old couple the—“
“The Parkers,” he filled in.
“The Parkers across from us. I put my hand down there and unzipped you. Like you’re going to now…”
Caleb shut his eyes. Was she really trying to trigger phone sex? He dragged his hand down the front of his fly, felt his hard cock respond to that small pressure. Groaned. Was he really going to go along with phone sex?
When was the last time he’d had a woman in his bed? He shook his head because he couldn’t remember.
“Jasmine—“
“Shh,” she said. Put your hand on your cock, Caleb. Do it for me. I’m out in the guest house, I’m all alone, and I want to get off with you. Until you get here and I can get you off myself. And then get myself off on you.” She laughed at her own joke…
photo credit: Walt Stoneburner via photopin cc
July 13, 2014
A Many Splintered Thing / Day 5: "He’ll be too refined for sex like that. I’ll have to remember you taking me like an animal just to get off..."
It's Sunday. I cleaned, I did my T25 Stretch, had coffee and my shake and refuse to get dressed...but I couldn't help the writing part. I'm being lazy but sometimes you have to just get the stuff in your head out of your head. Like it or not ;)XOXOSommer
A Many Splintered Thing Day 5
She had her lips wrapped around his cock, his hands played through her hair. He knew he was dreaming. Caleb was perfectly aware of it because he could hear the parking lot sounds outside his meager room at the A-1. But he didn’t care, he didn’t mind. He let himself fall back into the imagined sensation of her mouth on his erection.
“Mmm…”
He was in that twilight state of awareness where his mind and body where trapped in the dream but his ears and awareness were more expansive. So he heard his own happy, I’m-getting-head sound. Even if it was dream head.
Jasmine dragged her mouth down his length, glanced up at him—flashing those bright green eyes. Then she very deliberately scraped her pretty, white, and quite expensive teeth along the fragile sensitive flesh. He shuddered both in his dream and in his bed.
She played her tongue along the tip of him, swooping up to suck the cap of his cock and then she moved her mouth. Jasmine grinned. “You asked me about one day. What I thought I’d be doing ‘one day’. One day I will marry a man who can take me away from all this.”
Something inside him caved. He’d never imagined marriage. He’d never really imagined what others described as love. But he wasn’t shallow or broken enough to miss the fact that this man she talked about was not him. Oh, they were just playing the what-if game but she had gone in a direction he hadn’t anticipated.
Funny, somehow he’d imagined that he’ be utterly fine with her moving along some day. Finding someone more her speed. In his bed, Caleb knew this memory was pre-decree from daddy. It was from before her father had basically arranged a marriage and informed his daughter that she could either marry the man he’d chosen or be destitute and more horrifying—normal—with Caleb.
The memory was one of his least favorite so he tried to open his eyes and wake up, but his body had other plans.
“This magical man will take you away from all this? This demanding, awful life you have?” He tried to make it sound like he was joking but her eyes narrowed. Because he wasn’t.
“I am daddy’s puppet, Caleb. You might not understand that as taxing and daunting, but it is. I might not be living in a refrigerator box in an alley but I’m certainly not my own person.” She flicked her tongue along the top of his still-hard cock almost as an afterthought.
He pushed his fingers into her dark hair, wanting to get along with the fucking and stop talking about the rich guy that would eventually replace him and rescue Jas from her terrible, terrible, wealthy girl life.
“Then change it. Stop being daddy’s puppet,” he said.
“Oh, it’s that easy?” she asked.
“As easy as fucking,” he said, but he didn’t know if it was true. He had a feeling it wasn’t.
The goal was to shut her up and do with her the thing that they were best at together. Sex.
She took the hands he offered and moved her long, lithe body up over his, straddling him. He loved for her to be under him but ever a control freak, Jas needed, at the very least, to start on top. He let her. Let her to sink her molten heat down over him. Caleb felt the grip and ripple of her pussy as she impaled herself on him. She dragged his hands, busted up from the most recent construction job he’d been working, up to cup her breasts. He loved her breasts. Loved that they were small and perfect and real. Jasmine could be a mind fuck but she knew who she was, what she wanted, and what not to change for anyone but herself.
She got points for that in Caleb’s book.
He tweaked her nipples until she purred and then he drove up from under her, watching her face for signs of intense pleasure that meant he could turn the tables. When she chewed her lip and rocked her hips he found he’d changed his mind. He took her hands and gripped them, letting her use him for leverage. He let her quietly rock herself to a soft but intense orgasm that stole her breath and her voice. Jasmine usually talked her way through sex, the words as erotic as the actions they shared.
Her body contracted, humid and damp, around him but he gritted his teeth and held on. He wrapped his hands in her long hair, tugged her down and kissed her. When he had her off balance, her breath still coming fast and deep from her orgasm, he turned her onto her back and then further turned her onto her hands and knees. He got a hold of her hair again and plunged into her. She was beyond turned on and his entry was as easy as breathing.
Caleb held her hair as he fucked her, listening to her breathe and then whimper and finally, as he was coming, emptying into her as a smaller, swift orgasm took her breath, she was laughing.
“What?”
“Fucking me like a beast. My future husband won’t be a beast. He’ll be too refined for sex like that. I’ll have to remember you taking me like an animal just to get off,” she said, rolling to her side.
She grinned at him and he knew she hadn’t meant to hurt him, and yet, on some level she had. But Caleb said nothing. He just rolled to his back and let her drape her long self over his body. He changed the subject and shut his eyes to calm his racing heart.
Caleb opened his eyes to gaze into a set of dark chocolate ones. Loving eyes. Adoring eyes.
Alice the dog panted in his face and appeared to grin at him. He had an erection, a painful feeling in his chest and dog breath in his face.
“I imagined waking up with a beautiful brunette in my bed at some point during this journey,” Caleb said. “But I have to confess, Alice, you weren’t quite what I had in mind. No offense.”
She didn’t seem to mind. She licked his face and thumped her tail as he studied her, scratching the soft fur at the top of her head. She had the markings of a Rottweiler but the grinning face of a Labrador. He guessed she was a half and half mix, or maybe there was one more gene pool in the mix, he wasn’t sure. What he was sure of was this, she could have chewed Martin’s face of if she’d wanted too.
“But you’re too good for that, aren’t you, Alice? Alice in chains,” he sighed, patting her. “Sorry about that. Not all humans are assholes. Are you hungry?”
At the question she bounded off the bed and turned in a circle. Then repeated the move two more times. Caleb laughed. “I’ll take that as doggy speak for yes. Hmm…” He had the food but no food bowls. He glanced around, shaking off the aching in his chest from the dream. The only thing his eyes settled on was the ice bucket.
“Improvise,” he muttered. He filled the ice bucket half way with the kibble he’d taken from the clerk and watched her wolf it down. Then she sat and stared at him, seeming to smile.
He took the bowl to the bathroom, rinsed it in the bathtub and then filled it half way with cold water. “Sorry. We’ll have to grab you some proper bowls at some point. I’m sure, until then, Martin won’t mind if we steal his ice bucket. Right?”
More tail thumping. She drank down most of the water and he took her out to a nice piece of grass in front of his room to take care of business. Then Alice sat in the bathroom doorway and kept watch while he took a shower.
Caleb packed up and checked the room once more. “Time to hit the road, girl. I’m on my way to meet a woman who I don’t think really loves me. And I’m not sure how I feel about that all the sudden. But at least now I have you to talk to” He patted his leg and she followed him out of the room. When he opened the Jeep she jumped into the passenger seat like it was second nature. Caleb got in and shut the door. Then he turned to Alice. “But at least I’ll seem less crazy talking out loud. Right?”
Alice seemed to agree. She faced forward when he started the Wagoneer as if eagerly anticipating their journey…
photo credit: Piero... via photopin cc
July 12, 2014
A Many Splintered Thing / Day 4: “Beer? Menu?” Best to keep the back and forth to one or two word or exchanges.
This one's for Jo. ;) It's also a much longer entry so tomorrow I might be off. Ya know...off? I forget what off feels like. But we'll see. I tend to be a bit obsessive and addicted when I write these things. Me? Obsessive? Phtpppt! Nonsense.XOXO
S
The A-1 had the essentials. A key handed to him by a thin, grungy guy with the attempts at a mountain man beard ushered him into a no-nonsense room with a carpet that would never ever see his bare feet. But the bed appeared clean, not too disfigured by numerous sleepers and the sheets didn’t hide any surprises like bed bugs. Caleb dumped his bag on the chair near the dresser that supported an ancient TV and an even more ancient ice bucket.
He poked his head into the bathroom and saw a stained but clean sink and toilet and a bath tub that appeared to be the newest thing in the room. It was also clean.
“So, Jethro isn’t much on customer service but he can work a scrubber. Or can instruct someone who can,” he muttered.
He patted his pocket, felt his wallet, and locked the door behind him, knowing the rest of the money from Bob and Belinda was duct tape up under the springs of the Jeep’s driver’s seat.
As he passed the motel office he heard a howl. A deep mournful sound that made his blood run cold. Maybe the A-1 had a resident werewolf, he thought.
Toby’s was small, smoky (illegal but a fact) and red-lit, most of the ambiance lightening came from neon beer signs and red seemed the predominant color.
“Help you?” The bartender, a man with an actual mountain man beard, managed to compress the two words into one distorted word but Caleb understood him.
“Beer? Menu?” Best to keep the back and forth to one or two word or exchanges.
The bartender laughed, “Domestic or imported?” He shoved a menu across the bar and it stuck to the polished wood midway.
Caleb peeled it off and tried not to wince. And he figured the beer question was a trick question. Until the guys said, “We have Sam Adam’s Lager, Coors Light—”He wrinkled his nose when he said that as if it pained him to speak the words. “Amstel Light, Dos Equis, Land Shark, Heineken—“Caleb cut him off. “I’ll just have a Sam Adam’s. And…” He did a speed read of the menu. “A burger, medium. Lettuce, tomato and mayo.”
“Chips or fries?” the bartender asked, drawing the beer from the tap.
“Fries. They good?”
“Better than the cleaning service for this place.”
Caleb let out a bark of laughter. “Good to know.”
“Actually, our cook is pretty damn fine. I eat here every night he’s working. On Sundays and Mondays we have a local girl. She couldn’t cook an egg on a hot sidewalk in August. Those days I eat at home. Or I drive up to the burger place by the highway.”
Caleb nodded. “Good to know again. But I’ll only be here overnight.”
The bartender opened his mouth to respond but a female voice asked, “Buy me a beer?”Caleb turned his head, caught sight of her, and smiled. She was small. Really small. The kind of woman he imagined could be tucked under a guy’s arm like a football and toted around. But she was built like a brick shithouse. He wondered briefly if something like that would throw off the aerodynamics of the toting around he’d imagined.
The wondering was cut off when her small hand settled on his jean clad thigh. “I asked if you’d buy me a—”
“I heard you, and sadly, I’m going to have to deny you.”
This earned him an amused snort from the bear of a bartender.
She frowned, unaccustomed to being turned down, he assumed. Her dark blue eyes—at least they looked blue in the demonic light of Toby’s—crinkled with disappointment. Her cupie doll mouth turned down with displeasure.
“Sorry,” he said, trying to make amends to a stranger, something he normally didn’t do. “I have to watch every nickel. Traveling cross country.”
She sighed. “Can I get a Coors, Al?” she asked the bartender. “And I’ll pay for whatever drink this new guy is having.”
Al rumbled laughter and said, “Well, hell just froze over.”
“What? He looks nice enough.” She winked at Caleb. “I’m always scoring drinks in here so why not return the favor once in a while,” she said. She nudged him with her elbow, the small hand having disappeared from his leg. “You know…Karma?”
He nodded. “I know. And thanks.” He didn’t want to assume but by the way her eyes flicked across the room like a high speed surveillance camera, and by the way she eyed the door every few seconds, Caleb thought she might be on duty. And why not? She was definitely a spectacular specimen and had a personality to boot. He liked her, he just wasn’t interested in losing money on account of her and her stellar figure.
“It’s slow in here,” she said to Al.
“You’re not supposed to even be in here, technically.”
She winked at Caleb. “And when was the last time you tossed me out, Al?”
“Never.”
“Exactly. I’m good for business.”
“You’re good for something,” he growled. When someone shouted from the tiny window that Caleb assumed led to the kitchen, Al lumbered off to respond. He came back, plunked the plate down in front of Caleb who tucked into his meal with one thought in mind: hunger.
“Well, you’d know,” the woman said and even Al, who was didn’t seem a normally jovial kind of guy, had to smile.
The hour passed in the slow, lazy way August nights seemed to. He ate his burger, listened to the juke box—an actual juke in the corner, not something that looked like a juke and played discs—play music he hadn’t heard in years. Watched the hooker—whose name turned out to be Renata—dance with a few men and listened to Al complain about it.
Caleb’s professional busybody opinion was that Al had a thing for Renata and it might, if even just a tiny bit, be reciprocated. But he’d never say that aloud.
When the clock struck ten and his body felt like it was made of lead weights, he paid his tab (only charged for the food thanks to Renata and, he guessed, Al) and shook hands with the bartender.
“Thanks for the sparkling conversation,” Caleb said.
“It’s what I live for,” Al said.
Caleb tossed Renata—the belle of the ball—a waved. She stopped dancing and sang out, “I can toss you a freebie, cutie!”
“That’s okay,” he said. “I can’t impose on your hospitality anymore. Take care, and thanks for the beer.”
She waved back and kept on dancing.
It was when he was passing the office that he heard that mournful sound again and then a voice say, “I said, be quiet!” The command was followed by a soft thud and then a sharp cry. A canine cry.
Caleb followed the dirt path around the side of the office to a fenced in back area. There was the clerk who’d checked him in and he was kicking a dog, a good sized one, in the side. The dog cowered and cried out but made no move to attack the man, though judging by its size, it could have given the asshole a run for his money.
“Hey!” Caleb was shouting before he realized he would. The guy turned and despite the inattention instead of advancing aggressively the dog took the chance to slink further away on its thick chain tether.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Caleb called. He’d moved toward the fence as he yelled. He was pissed. More pissed than he’d realized as his hands came down on the latch. He wanted to tear it off and beat the guy with it.
“I’m taking care of my business just like you should take care of yours. Move it along.”
“Move it along? Did you just fucking say that to me? You can’t beat that dog,” Caleb said, unhooking the latch.
“I can do whatever I want. It’s my dog. And it’s my motel, man, so you should just—”
Caleb found himself in the small fenced in yard. “No you can’t. Because if you beat it, I’m going to beat you, brave man.”
The guy didn’t even look away, he ran forward and kicked the dog again. Right in her emaciated ribs.Caleb, having seen one too many nights of beatings from his father when he was a kid, rushed the guy and took a swing without a second thought. The guy went down like the sack of shit he was and then Caleb found his hands working faster than his brain. He gave the clerk a kick in the ribs just so he could get acquainted with the pain he’d been inflicting. Then he unhooked the dog and ran his hands along her flanks. She flinched but didn’t yelp so he thought maybe, just maybe, nothing was broken. He hoped so, anyway.
Abusing the innocent was about as low as one could get and it just wasn’t something he could ignore. Even after a few beers and wanting nothing more than to get on the road in the morning and get to where he was going.
“I’ll call the cops,” the guy said, attempting to get up. Caleb vaguely remembered him saying his name was Martin.
“You do that, Martin. I made a friend of one earlier tonight,” Caleb said, lying through his teeth. “Cop by the name of Eden. I’m sure he’d love to know about animal abuse and a hooker on the premises—”
Lies.
“Renata! She’s not supposed to come over here—“
“And bugs the size of hubcaps—“
More lies. He just wanted to scare this joker.
“Okay, okay,” the guy said, holding up a hand. “Fine. I’m sorry I hurt the dog. People were complaining about her howling.”
“Maybe if you didn’t keep her fucking chained up—“
“I’m sorry!” Martin spat.
“Tough shit,” Caleb said.
Was he really going to do this? Was he nuts? Because this fucking move would be utterly nuts. And yet he couldn’t help himself. “I’m taking the dog.”
“You’re what?”
“I’m taking the dog. And if you try to stop me I’ll file all kinds of formal complaints.”
Again, he had no idea what the fuck he was talking about and yet it worked.
“Good, take the god damn thing.”
Caleb scanned the small, pathetic yard. “And I’ll take this too.” He hiked up a sack of dog food and led the dog toward the gate. She went willingly. Hell, not willingly—joyously.
“It’s okay, sweetie,” he said, having noted she was a girl. “It’s all going to be fine.”
Once they’d cleared the fence and the gate has swung shut with a loud smack, she even wagged her tail. If only Caleb had as much faith in himself as the dog seemed to…
photo credit: Neon Beer Signs via photopin cc
July 11, 2014
A Many Splintered Thing / Day 3: She snarled and he arched his hips up, thrusting into her wetness until she whispered. “Don’t move. Don’t. You. Move.”
A bit late today but this week has been an ass-kicker. Here we go. Day three...
~~~~
Caleb drove until he hit Indiana. There had been a questionable hot dog lunch in West Virginia and a few stops along the drive but mostly it was him, the radio, and his memories. He had no intention of making this a long, sprawled out road trip. This would be get from point A to point Z and assess what would become of his life.
After thirty-odd years of rolling with the ebb and flow of life he was actually concerned. Which concerned him.
Not one to worry about how life would unfold, he found it odd and unsettling to be racing through memories of him and Jasmine together. And then following the chased memories closely with what-ifs, something he’d often given other people shit for. What-ifs were useless. What-ifs would eat you alive.
Caleb piloted the Wagoneer into a rest area. It wasn’t as nice as some and definitely not as horrible as other’s he’d seen. He faced the Jeep toward the inevitable wide swath of trees studded with picnic tables and on-the-spot grills for cooking burgers and dogs on the road. Then he cut the engine before putting his seat back a little bit. The sound of silence was nice even though it was hot. Just as hot here as back home. Traveling in August was always a lesson in humidity and heat index.
He rolled the windows down and let a meager breeze blow through the windows. He shut his eyes as the sky turned a companion pink to the morning sky he’d started his day with. With his eyes shut and the silence, studded only by the occasional hiss on tires as someone turned into the lot, he drifted. He tried to think ahead but ahead was a questionable black hole of the unknown. So he drifted back. Back was easy to grasp onto. Easy to rifle through those memories to find one worth remembering. Like the month she’d been engaged to Harrison.
That was what her father had given her to be engaged and to put together a wedding. A month. It spoke volumes about the man. Geoffrey P. Winslow aka the devil.
Caleb heard a short, deep sound and it took a second of sleepy contemplation to realize it was his own laughter he’d heard. The brief flirtation with total awareness passed and he grasped onto a particularly vivid image of her astride him just days before she was set to take her vows.
She had fucked him like she had a debt to settle. And he realized, she had. But it wasn’t with him. It was with daddy. So she fucked him like she was punishing them all. Herself, her father, Caleb for not being the right kind of person that would allow her to be with him, and of course, the betrothed Harrison Day.
Her long dark hair hung in her eyes, hung over her small breasts, brushed his chest when she leaned forward so his cock hit the places inside her that she needed most.
Jasmine didn’t speak at first, she just moved. When he reached up to touch her, brush that curtain of hair back, she grabbed his seeking hand and slammed it back to the mattress. She swiftly wrangled the other one and held his hands above his head, wrists pinned to her high-thread-count white sheets. She snarled and he arched his hips up, thrusting into her wetness until she whispered. “Don’t move. Don’t. You. Move.”
He listened. Apparently, she needed this.
Her hips slid side to side. It almost hurt him, how far she took it, but not quite. Not enough discomfort for Caleb to speak up before she worked this out.
“Four days,” she hummed, rocking her hips back and forward now.
“Four days,” he echoed. After the marriage there would be no seeing each other. No more hook ups. No more sneaking in the kitchen door of her rented apartment. She’d be in a house, with a staff, with a security system…with Harrison.
A small sound escaped her. It sounded like a sob but when she tossed her head and her dark hair parted there were no tears wetting her cheeks. But there was an encore of that deep mournful sound that seemed to have found its way from her chest through her lips.
“Tell me you’ll miss me,” she said, changing her tempo and leaning far over him to smash her breasts and belly flat to his sweaty torso. Her breath was warm on his face, her eyes a little wild.
“Do I really have to?” he asked. Meaning, she should know he’d miss her. It was a given.
Jasmine paused, her wild eyes growing wilder and her body shuddered. “Caleb—“
“I meant of course I would, don’t do this, Jas. Don’t take your fear and your anger and that helplessness and twist my words—“
“You can’t tell me?”
“I did.”
“You didn’t. You said—“
She was heading down that path, that thing she did where she poured her impotent emotions into a rage that had nothing to do with what she was actually angry about. Caleb did the only thing he could think to do, he pushed his hands up hard against her restraining grip and flipped her fast and hard.
She roared at him, angry, until he knocked her legs wide and then his hands were pinning herwrists. His body was smashed flat to hers. His breath was in her face and he drove into her hard enough to steal her breath and cut off her tangent before it gained any steam.
“Caleb, you fucker—“But she said it on a sigh.
“You know it.” He grinned at her, realizing in just a few short days he wouldn’t be able to. He didn’t feel so much sad as much as a shift in the trajectory of his life. It was a change—a big one to someone like him—but not nearly big enough to make him think he was in love. He was in something, but not love.
He took her exactly where she needed to go, thrusting deep as she hooked her long tan legs behind his hips and drew him in. Her mouth was still going but not with a rant, now it was soft words, good words, encouraging words. Then kisses. He kept that mouth busy and then the third time she came, flexing hard and hot around him, he came with her. His whole body shaking with the force and his heart doing that weird, fish-flip thing it did from time to time.
“I don’t want to think about you with other girls,” she said, rolling to her side. “It makes me jealous.”
“Imaginary women make you jealous?” he asked, stealing one of her cigarettes from the bedside table. Jasmine only stooped to smoking after sex. He tried to do the same. “You’re the one getting married. You’re the one taking off.”
“Yeah,” she said, staring him down. Her mascara was smeared around her gem-bright, green eyes. “But I don’t want to…Sir—“
He blinked at her, knowing instinctively that something wasn’t right.
“Sir—“she said again and then a weird tapping sound filled his head. Her eyes narrowed, her mouth drew down into a fine line and she looked annoyed. “Sir—“
Caleb opened his eyes to the crisp, no bullshit sight of a uniformed State Trooper tapping a Maglite softly against his windshield. “Sir, there’s no sleeping in the rest stops.”
“It is called a reststop, isn’t it?” Caleb asked, sitting up and blinking.
The trooper heaved a mighty sigh as if he’d heard this more than once. He leaned against the open window and said slowly, “Look, sir, being a smart ass is the first step to having a problem with me. You are welcome to rest in our nation’s rest stops. But not sleep. It goes from resting—as in a break from the road—to loitering. There’s a difference.”
Caleb wasn’t sure he believed the guy. Wouldn’t be the first cop to roust people because he just didn’t want them hanging out on his turf, but Caleb wasn’t a fool. Pissing off a cop wasn’t the best plan. “Got it,” he said. “I guess I was a bit more tired than I anticipated.”
“There’s a nice no frills motel down the road aways. Second exit after you leave here. Just two miles on that main road if you make a right off the exit. Bar next door if you’re thirsty and want some not too bad food.”
Caleb laughed. “Not too bad food. That’s a glowing recommendation.”
The trooper laughed, won over by Caleb’s winning charm, no doubt. “It’s an honest statement. The place is called Toby’s. The motel is A-1. Don’t ask me why. Everything okay, by the way?”
“Yep, just traveling across country. Been a long day.”
“Where to?”
“California.” Caleb had no doubt the guy was running his plates as they chatted.
“California’s a big state.”
“Somewhere near Santa Barbara,” Caleb clarified.
The trooper—D.R. Eden by his name tag—nodded once, held up a finger. “Hold on.”After a minute he came back, touched his hat brim and said, “You go on now. Get your food, get your rest so you can get where you’re going.”
Caleb nodded. “Will do. Thanks, Officer Eden.” He started the Jeep and pulled out slowly, scanning the darkening sky as he went. Not so bad food and a lumpy motel bed sounded pretty decent right about now. Hopefully it was a cheap place, he wanted to make his money stretch. He had no idea how long it would last him. Or how long he’d need it to last…
photo credit: Thomas Hawk via photopin cc
July 10, 2014
A Many Splintered Thing / Day 2: "She was on her knees. She was explaining. She was saying good bye."
There had been no point in hitting the road during a storm. There had also been no point in hurrying after a year had fled by. Jasmine would survive one more night with her maid-fucking betrothed. In fact, she’d have to survive more, he though, watching some of the early morning pink fade from the sky. His ancient ’87 Jeep Grand Wagoneer would most likely struggle with a trip from the east coast to the west. But it was the only way he intended to get there.
“You know you can come back whenever you want,” Bob said. He passed Caleb a large convenience store coffee. “The house is yours again if you come back. Just give me a few days notice.”
“Because you’ll just kick out whoever’s here?” Caleb smiled.
“Probably. Because if you’re not here it’ll probably be one of Belinda’s horrible relatives.” Caleb’s boss scratched his thinning hair and watched the sun splash brightness across the sky. “Don’t suppose you want to tell me what’s going on? Why I’m losing my best worker? And my tenant, I might add.”
The words and my friend were left unsaid but were understood.
“It’s a long story,” Caleb said. He sipped steadily from the coffee, the thought of driving for days suddenly exhausted him.
“And you’re not much of a story teller,” Bob said. His mouth curled up into a smile. “Never have been.”
He leaned against the Jeep and settled on watching the light come into the sky. Somewhere out on the water a bird called out. Somewhere else another answered.
Finally, tired of the silence, Bob smacked the Wagoneer and said, “Well, I sure as shit hope she gets you there okay. Wherever it is you’re going.”
“Somewhere near Santa Barbara,” Caleb said. “And I’m sure she will.”
“At least we know she’s got a new fuel pump,” Bob said. There was a sadness in his voice that tempted Caleb to stay right where he was. He’d put down shallow but strong roots here and he was just realizing it.
This man was the kind of man he’d always wanted for a father and hadn’t had.
“Yep. What will I do, man? Without you around to boss me around?” He forced himself to laugh softly. “You got me my job, my home and sold me my fucking ride. I hope there’s a Bob where I’m going.”
“Christ, me too. God knows you need someone to look out for you.” Bob put his cap back on, scratched his arm. Caleb could feel the mix of sadness and discomfort radiating off the man like heat. “Jesus Christ, Belinda’s going to lose her shit not having you to fawn over now that all the kids are away at college.”
“I’ll come back some time and let her yell at me,” Caleb said.
“You do that, kid.” The sky was fully lit now, all the soft candy-colored light gone from the sky. Bob dug in his pocket and thrust a bank envelope at Caleb. This is your last paycheck and your security deposit on the bungalow and just a little extra from me and Belinda.”
“Bob—“
“Don’t say you can’t because you can. You earned some of it, you’re owed some of it and the rest is…a good luck gift. We want to know you’re eating until you get a new job if she can’t pump you full of her awful food.”
Caleb snickered. “She’s not that bad, Bob.”
“Oh, she’s got a good heart and a great ass but she is that bad when it comes to food. And now it’ll just be me she’s trying to poison.” Bob stuck out his hand. “You’d better get going. You have a pretty long drive ahead of you.”
Caleb nodded, took the hand offered and surprised them both by pulling the older man in and giving him a brisk hug. He clapped Bob on the back and said, “Kiss that woman for me. Tell her I’m sorry it was such short notice.”
“I will. And I hope this girl you’re out after is good enough for you to give you cause to up and leave what you have here. I was thinking you’d built the beginnings of a pretty good life.”
Caleb hoped she was too but he didn’t say as much. He just shook Bob’s offered hand once more, thanked him again—he’s been very good to Caleb for the past year—and promised to call.
“You’d better send Belinda a post card from that place you’ll be,” Bob called as Caleb backed out. “Otherwise she’s bound to lose her shit!”
Caleb promised, waved, and headed out toward the main road. He wouldn’t really need the GPS for a bit. For now he watched the red roofed bungalow and one of the best men he’d ever met receding in his rear view mirror.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he asked himself aloud. “You don’t even have a dog to keep you company. You know if this was a movie you’d have a dog next to you.”
He turned on the radio, turned up Bill Withers and watched the place he’d called home for the longest amount of time he could remember vanish behind him. Then it was a matter of watching the water and the shoreline until it was gone and he was simply surrounded by guard rails, Jersey walls, concrete and steel. Which could have been anywhere, he thought.
He flipped through his mental file of his time with Jasmine. Big, expensive parties where he didn’t fit in. A father—her’s—who couldn’t stand him and couldn’t wait for him to be gone. Sex, sex and more sex. A healthy helping of drama for flavor. And then her announcing she was getting married.
“He comes from money,” she’d said. Her makeup smeared around her eyes from the occasional errant tear. It was the only time he could recall seeing her cry even a bit. “Daddy said if I didn’t marry him he’d cut me off. Cut me off!” Her fingers had been plucking at the buttons on the fly of Caleb’s jeans. Flat copper colored discs sliding through pale denim slits as he watched.
She was on her knees. She was explaining. She was saying good bye.
“You asked her why she couldn’t just be cut off,” he laughed, taking the exit he needed.“I come from money, Caleb. I can’t just…I don’t think I’d make it. As sad and horrible as I’m sure that sounds to the likes of you.” She’d gotten her fingers into his jeans then, found him and wrapped her cool hand around his length. Then she was drawing him out, putting her mouth on him, the coolness of her fingers bleeding into the searing heat of her tongue.
She said goodbye on her knees, with her lips and teeth and tongue. And he’d let her. Because truth be told, as tethered to Jasmine as he’d felt at the time, it wasn’t anything real. He’d know that even then, deep down. He felt a flash of anger, a spark of violence, a wave of what was possibly sadness. He’d warned her that she’d want him back, and look at that, he’d been right. But that was all. When she was gone, he moved forward and he carried on. Same as always.
And now he was ditching all this to return to her. What did that say about him?
He had no idea. As he dodged darting cars and eighteen wheelers and held tight to the steering wheel because the Wagoneer shuddered like crazy above sixty, Caleb seriously considered that dog...
While I have you:
Wow! I've been nominated for a Golden Ankh by Ellora's Cave in the Moderne category for my novel Restricted Release . If you do that voting thang I'd sure appreciate yours. Go HERE to look at nominees.
And if you're enjoying the new live novel, consider buying the previous one Wanderlust . It's $2.99 for a whooooole lot of words. Over 88,000 if I do say so myself.
photo credit: Dave Hosford via photopin cc
July 9, 2014
Guest Blog: A.M. Hartnett or..."How totally NOT to win friends and influence, well, ANYONE!"
Here's how. You forget they're on your blog today. You launch a big new project (A Many Splintered Thing blog below) and then you lose the blog. Tada!
In my defense, I blame gmail. My calendar did not remind me (though the post is logged into it) and well, the auto responder on my gmail seemed to jack something up. Nevermind! She's here now and so I'll give the floor over to A.M. Hartnett. And away we go...
p.s. Any mistakes you might find are mine. Mine, mine, mine! Because I have one foot out the door (again) as I post this.
~~~~~
Back in April, Sommer made my day by sending me an origin story for her New Adult novel, Lost In You (also from Mischief) and included some photos of the actual locations in the book. She tapped into my love of seeing where the action takes place as I enter a book.
So taking my cue from Sommer, I'm here to show off some of the real life locations for two of my summer releases, Uncover Me and The Deep End.
Uncover Me is the story of a sex blogger, Carrie, who gets her thrills in posting risqué photos of herself online, but also enjoys her anonymity. This all changes when a reader notices a specific landmark in the background of one of the pictures. One slip and Carrie’s not so anonymous anymore, and when this reader sends her a risqué photo of himself, she’s not so sure she wants to be anonymous for much longer.
The story is set in my hometown of Halifax, Nova Scotia. The action begins in the very neighborhood I was living in at the time of writing. I had just moved from the suburbs so now that I was in walking distance to just about everything, my car stayed at home most of the time. I walked everywhere, earphones on to drown out the noise of city traffic, and just explored. Eventually the places that caught my interest ended up in the book.
One of the settings is Brendan's condo, a building I'd been in a few times. It's the view from behind him that convinces Carrie that Brendan is who he says he is as they chat online:
Attached to the message was a picture. Not the full picture, but enough. He stood before a window, naked from the waist up. The same build. The same shaped tattoo on his shoulder, the mascot of a local university, she could see now. At his back was a view of one of the harbour bridges.
Things got a little complicated with The Deep End. The story begins on the thirteenth floor of the Taureau-Werner building, where the reclusive Jacques Taureau first makes contact with Grace after years of hiding from the world. Once he actually gives Grace what he wants and takes their relationship from purely voyeuristic to physical, the story moves to New Brunswick, I got to bring out a series of locations that had always piqued my interest. The thing about this part of New Brunswick, specifically around Cap-Pelé is that you either get breathtaking ocean views of the Northumberland Strait, or you get bushy and intimidating forest. I included both in the story.
But if the setting had a star, it would be The Convent House, an old retreat where Jacques has spent the last fifteen years of his life. Based on the real-life Mission House, showcased here at The Daily Mail <http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2164169/Historic-Nova-Scotia-house-bought-15-000-sale-2million.html>, my imagination picked up the entire property from its location in Avondale, Nova Scotia and dropped it into rural New Brunswick.
The house was absolutely perfect. What better sanctuary for a recluse like Taureau than a house already half-buried underground?
Taureau’s home was nothing like she had imagined. She had pictured Citizen Kane’s Xanadu. What she was looking at right now was more Wuthering Heights.
‘You have got to be kidding me,’ she said, leaning forward to get a better look.
It was a perfect square stone box, three stories in height with the upper floor marked with four little dormer windows jutting from the roof. Six windows on the second level were broke up only by a niche of a balcony. The bottom level looked like it was being consumed by the earth around it, with tall hills reaching up to the second floor at both corners.
The house was big, but not so big she could imagine him able to hide from her for long.
Combined with a lush landscape that allows him an escape from the insanity of his reclusiveness by riding his motorcycle through the backlands, Taureau's retreat serves at his sanctuary while at the same time welcomes Grace the same way Manderley welcomes the second Mrs. DeWinter and keeps Jacques’ heartbreaking secrets.
Excerpt (Uncover Me)
As soon as the package was in her hands, a thrill ran through her at the thought of something so lovely and wicked in Brendan’s hands.
‘You know, I can price up a custom kit for you if you want to add a mask and some other goodies.’
‘Just this,’ Carrie said, gazing at the paddle. ‘This is perfect.’
The woman grinned. ‘A girl who knows what she wants. I’ll give you a coupon anyway if you change your mind.’
Without the clog of rush-hour traffic, the commute from downtown to her North End home took less than ten minutes. She tossed her purse on the sofa and took her purchase to the kitchen, where she tore into the packaging with a pair of utility scissors.
The paddle felt right in her palm. One side was soft to the touch. She traced the embroidered flowers and vines with her finger, then ran her hand across the cool leather surface on the other side. She bit her lip and poised it over her hand to test it out, but changed her mind just as she was ready to bring it down.
A first taste should be something of an event, she thought. She left the paddle on the counter and went to her bedroom. She returned in a simple thong and her favourite stockings: white with black Cuban stitching. She brought her computer out of sleep mode and opened the webcam.
Her palm tingled as she twirled the paddle, making sure it was the centrepiece of her video. She turned, grasped the handle and ran her other hand over the curve of her ass.
‘As promised, Sandman, a Valentine,’ she said, and bent slightly.
She didn’t want the first contact to be gentle. That would be cheating. She brought the paddle down in a firm stroke, gasping as what the sales clerk had accurately described as a whump sent electricity through her body.
The initial blow was delightful enough, but the sting that lingered was heavenly. She kept half-turned to the camera and watched, pleased, as her ass turned red.
‘That’s one,’ she said, and twisted the other way.
Her stomach fluttered in the seconds before she brought the paddle down on the other cheek. This time the sting brought with it a flood of pleasure between her legs.
‘That’s two.’
She reached down and rubbed her fingers between her pussy lips. She’d been wet even when she’d been paying for the paddle, but now she was throbbing and ready.
As she turned and ended the webcam show, she glanced at the clock. One more hour before she met Brendan. Even if she had time to get herself off and get ready, she wasn’t sure she wanted to. It would be better to wait and see what Brendan had up his sleeve.
She posted the video under the header ‘XOX for Sandman’ and left the paddle next to her laptop.
It was barely five minutes later that her phone chimed with a text.
‘Leave the paddle on your bed for later.’
Blurb
The photos are becoming a compulsion for Carrie. As soon as she wakes up, she feels the need to engage with the readers of her erotic website, Dirty Pictures. No matter how hard she tries to focus on her real life the need is always there. The high is knowing that men desire her.
One day a comment on her erotic website makes Carrie go cold: one of her readers, Brendan, has recognised a landmark in the window of one of her pictures. Brendan knows where to find her and has sent a tantalising private message. His invitation to play was so tempting in no time at all, in a variety of settings, their sensual adventures become wild. Her sexual and emotional reawakening reaches peaks she never imagined possible.
Book Links:
Uncover Mehttp://www.amazon.com/Uncover-Me-AM-Hartnett-ebook/dp/B00ICCRP92/
The Deep End (Carried Away #1) - Available for Pre-Orderhttp://www.amazon.com/Deep-End-Carried-Away-Book-ebook/dp/B00JIHFF92
Holding My Breath (Carried Away #2) - Available for Pre-Orderhttp://www.amazon.com/Holding-Breath-Carried-Away-Book-ebook/dp/B00KFEH0X6
Me:
http://www.amhartnett.com
In my defense, I blame gmail. My calendar did not remind me (though the post is logged into it) and well, the auto responder on my gmail seemed to jack something up. Nevermind! She's here now and so I'll give the floor over to A.M. Hartnett. And away we go...
p.s. Any mistakes you might find are mine. Mine, mine, mine! Because I have one foot out the door (again) as I post this.
~~~~~
Back in April, Sommer made my day by sending me an origin story for her New Adult novel, Lost In You (also from Mischief) and included some photos of the actual locations in the book. She tapped into my love of seeing where the action takes place as I enter a book.
So taking my cue from Sommer, I'm here to show off some of the real life locations for two of my summer releases, Uncover Me and The Deep End.
Uncover Me is the story of a sex blogger, Carrie, who gets her thrills in posting risqué photos of herself online, but also enjoys her anonymity. This all changes when a reader notices a specific landmark in the background of one of the pictures. One slip and Carrie’s not so anonymous anymore, and when this reader sends her a risqué photo of himself, she’s not so sure she wants to be anonymous for much longer.
The story is set in my hometown of Halifax, Nova Scotia. The action begins in the very neighborhood I was living in at the time of writing. I had just moved from the suburbs so now that I was in walking distance to just about everything, my car stayed at home most of the time. I walked everywhere, earphones on to drown out the noise of city traffic, and just explored. Eventually the places that caught my interest ended up in the book.
One of the settings is Brendan's condo, a building I'd been in a few times. It's the view from behind him that convinces Carrie that Brendan is who he says he is as they chat online:
Attached to the message was a picture. Not the full picture, but enough. He stood before a window, naked from the waist up. The same build. The same shaped tattoo on his shoulder, the mascot of a local university, she could see now. At his back was a view of one of the harbour bridges.
Things got a little complicated with The Deep End. The story begins on the thirteenth floor of the Taureau-Werner building, where the reclusive Jacques Taureau first makes contact with Grace after years of hiding from the world. Once he actually gives Grace what he wants and takes their relationship from purely voyeuristic to physical, the story moves to New Brunswick, I got to bring out a series of locations that had always piqued my interest. The thing about this part of New Brunswick, specifically around Cap-Pelé is that you either get breathtaking ocean views of the Northumberland Strait, or you get bushy and intimidating forest. I included both in the story.
But if the setting had a star, it would be The Convent House, an old retreat where Jacques has spent the last fifteen years of his life. Based on the real-life Mission House, showcased here at The Daily Mail <http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2164169/Historic-Nova-Scotia-house-bought-15-000-sale-2million.html>, my imagination picked up the entire property from its location in Avondale, Nova Scotia and dropped it into rural New Brunswick.
The house was absolutely perfect. What better sanctuary for a recluse like Taureau than a house already half-buried underground?
Taureau’s home was nothing like she had imagined. She had pictured Citizen Kane’s Xanadu. What she was looking at right now was more Wuthering Heights.
‘You have got to be kidding me,’ she said, leaning forward to get a better look.
It was a perfect square stone box, three stories in height with the upper floor marked with four little dormer windows jutting from the roof. Six windows on the second level were broke up only by a niche of a balcony. The bottom level looked like it was being consumed by the earth around it, with tall hills reaching up to the second floor at both corners.
The house was big, but not so big she could imagine him able to hide from her for long.
Combined with a lush landscape that allows him an escape from the insanity of his reclusiveness by riding his motorcycle through the backlands, Taureau's retreat serves at his sanctuary while at the same time welcomes Grace the same way Manderley welcomes the second Mrs. DeWinter and keeps Jacques’ heartbreaking secrets.
Excerpt (Uncover Me)
As soon as the package was in her hands, a thrill ran through her at the thought of something so lovely and wicked in Brendan’s hands.
‘You know, I can price up a custom kit for you if you want to add a mask and some other goodies.’
‘Just this,’ Carrie said, gazing at the paddle. ‘This is perfect.’
The woman grinned. ‘A girl who knows what she wants. I’ll give you a coupon anyway if you change your mind.’
Without the clog of rush-hour traffic, the commute from downtown to her North End home took less than ten minutes. She tossed her purse on the sofa and took her purchase to the kitchen, where she tore into the packaging with a pair of utility scissors.
The paddle felt right in her palm. One side was soft to the touch. She traced the embroidered flowers and vines with her finger, then ran her hand across the cool leather surface on the other side. She bit her lip and poised it over her hand to test it out, but changed her mind just as she was ready to bring it down.
A first taste should be something of an event, she thought. She left the paddle on the counter and went to her bedroom. She returned in a simple thong and her favourite stockings: white with black Cuban stitching. She brought her computer out of sleep mode and opened the webcam.
Her palm tingled as she twirled the paddle, making sure it was the centrepiece of her video. She turned, grasped the handle and ran her other hand over the curve of her ass.
‘As promised, Sandman, a Valentine,’ she said, and bent slightly.
She didn’t want the first contact to be gentle. That would be cheating. She brought the paddle down in a firm stroke, gasping as what the sales clerk had accurately described as a whump sent electricity through her body.
The initial blow was delightful enough, but the sting that lingered was heavenly. She kept half-turned to the camera and watched, pleased, as her ass turned red.
‘That’s one,’ she said, and twisted the other way.
Her stomach fluttered in the seconds before she brought the paddle down on the other cheek. This time the sting brought with it a flood of pleasure between her legs.
‘That’s two.’
She reached down and rubbed her fingers between her pussy lips. She’d been wet even when she’d been paying for the paddle, but now she was throbbing and ready.
As she turned and ended the webcam show, she glanced at the clock. One more hour before she met Brendan. Even if she had time to get herself off and get ready, she wasn’t sure she wanted to. It would be better to wait and see what Brendan had up his sleeve.
She posted the video under the header ‘XOX for Sandman’ and left the paddle next to her laptop.
It was barely five minutes later that her phone chimed with a text.
‘Leave the paddle on your bed for later.’
Blurb
The photos are becoming a compulsion for Carrie. As soon as she wakes up, she feels the need to engage with the readers of her erotic website, Dirty Pictures. No matter how hard she tries to focus on her real life the need is always there. The high is knowing that men desire her.
One day a comment on her erotic website makes Carrie go cold: one of her readers, Brendan, has recognised a landmark in the window of one of her pictures. Brendan knows where to find her and has sent a tantalising private message. His invitation to play was so tempting in no time at all, in a variety of settings, their sensual adventures become wild. Her sexual and emotional reawakening reaches peaks she never imagined possible.
Book Links:
Uncover Mehttp://www.amazon.com/Uncover-Me-AM-Hartnett-ebook/dp/B00ICCRP92/
The Deep End (Carried Away #1) - Available for Pre-Orderhttp://www.amazon.com/Deep-End-Carried-Away-Book-ebook/dp/B00JIHFF92
Holding My Breath (Carried Away #2) - Available for Pre-Orderhttp://www.amazon.com/Holding-Breath-Carried-Away-Book-ebook/dp/B00KFEH0X6
Me:
http://www.amhartnett.com
A Many Splintered Thing: The Beginning
A loooooong time ago (2011) I wrote a little book (over 88,000 words all told) called Wanderlust "live". It was a hit--with the readers, I mean. Those who showed up every day like clockwork (God, how I loved those people!) to read the latest installment. I was writing it bit by bit, day by day, and posting it.I'm doing that again. Because I'm insane. The rule will be the same for this one, though life is different. I might actually have to take a day off here or there in this one, life being what it is (for those of you new here by husband has been and is battling pancreatic cancer). But I'll probably not take many just because I tend to be obsessive about these things. For those of you who missed the original go at this live novel thing I'm reposting the rule below.
I hope you'll come along for this one with me. Especially if you were along for Wanderlust. After all, we're old traveling buddies by now, aren't we?
The Rule: You must be patient and kind. If for some reason I can't write...well, you'll have to wait. If i have typos and tiny mistakes, well that happens when you're working 'live' as it were. You may tell me if you find errors, in fact I want you to, but be kind. Remember. I'm doing this right before it posts. So, I'm not finding anything out much earlier than you. We're spying on these characters together.
That being said, here we go, A Many Splintered Thing: The Beginning.
A Many Splintered ThingSommer Marsden“Love is a many splintered thing
Don't be afraid now
Just walk on in…”~Ribbons / The Sisters of Mercy
Caleb grabbed the phone on its third ring. It had been ringing when he opened the door, dripping mud and water across the red tiled floor of his small foyer. Even as his fingers settled on the hard plastic receiver he was certain it would stop the moment he answered.
He was wrong.
“Hello?”
“You said it would happen and now it has,” she said.
Caleb blinked water out of his eyes as outside an August storm raged around the tiny bungalow. The rain had pushed him home from work, the owner Bob saying no one could landscape anyone’s property in a monsoon. Caleb had laughed but it meant he was here now. Here when the phone rang.
“Jasmine?” The name felt foreign on his tongue—wonderful and awful all at once. Like something sweet on the surface but rotten if you bit further into it.
“You said it would happen,” she repeated.
“What? Said what would happen?” He sat down right on the floor at the base of the foyer table that held, of all things, an old school Princess telephone. It had come with the rental of the house. “Look, are you okay?” He began to pull at the laces of his work boots.
“I want you to come out here.” There were tears in her voice and that gave him pause. In all the time he’d known her, in all the time he’d been with her, Caleb could not recall Jasmine crying. Not Jasmine. Ice flowed through her veins.
“Out—“
“To California, Caleb! Aren’t you listening?”
“I’m listening. It’s been a year.”
She inhaled deeply, then. He heard a shuddery nature to the breath. Caleb shut his eyes, cold water still running down from his hair. He passed a hand over his eyes and waited. It had been a year. Not a short amount of time. He should hang up on her. And yet, with his eyes closed he could picture vividly all their times together. Some of them sweet, some of them filthy—was it love? He had no idea, he didn’t really consider himself capable of love per se. But it was something. Something that caused his heart to beat faster.
“I know that. I’m sorry. I tried. But you were right and I was wrong.”
That admission alone was a fucking miracle.
“Harrison has gone and fucked the maid.” She laughed then. “I stand corrected. The maids. And I’m done. I’m done with this pretend marriage. I’m done with let’s-make-believe. My father can go fuck himself.”
“Big words.”
“I know but…” She blew out a deep breath. “I’m tired, Caleb. You said I’d want you back and I want you back. I guess the rest of it depends on you.”
California. Did he have any interest in going? He had no idea. Did he want to step back into a life with Jasmine and her fierce temper? She never cried but she had a hell of a right hook. He glanced around the small bungalow with its smooth tile floors and tall, narrow windows and he exhaled.
“Where are you?”
“A little town near Santa Barbara. It’s pretty. We can…I don’t know,” she said, finally. “I don’t know what we can do. I won’t know until you come here and rescue me.”
He expected her to laugh at that. It’s something she’d never say, something she’d never ask for. After a beat he realized she wasn’t going to laugh. She was serious.
A heaviness settled inside him and he wondered again if he should hang up. But then Caleb realized the worst part of the whole scenario—he had nothing else going on. Nothing that would hold him here and prevent him from going there. At thirty-two he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. It depended on the day you asked him. Some days he felt free. Some days he felt lost.
“Send me the address and I can figure out how I’m getting there, then,” he said. He hadn’t been aware he’d say it until the words were coming out.
He could tell she was smiling. After a year he could feel that she was no longer looking as serious as when she called. A bit spooky, he thought, but on some level it had to be good. It had to be a positive thing to be that aware of another person’s emotions.
Water continued to puddle around his feet.
She asked for his email address and his cell phone number. She said she’d text it.
“Don’t. I’m not that savvy. My phone isn’t smart, in fact it flips shut. Just email them to me and I can plug everything into the GPS. I have technology, Jas, just not all in my pocket.”
She laughed at that. Her solemnity had fled. Jasmine was back to her bossy, loud and flitting self. He felt a bit overwhelmed with it. For the last year it had been him, living here alone near the water. The Maryland shoreline had been kind and gentle, fierce and flooded, but living in the bungalow had been simple and almost monastic. He’d eaten mostly from local providers: vegetables from the front yard produce stands, seafood from the watermen, meat from local farms. If it wasn’t in season he didn’t eat it. His idea of entertainment was sitting at a small bistro set down by the small wooden dock and drinking a local beer. Sometimes a shot or three of moonshine from a kid up the road whose father brewed it in the woods nearby.
He worked hard, he slept hard, he dated here and there. Women had been in his bed, more than once a suitor he’d cut loose because he felt she was more of a girl than a woman, but nothing that would tether him here.
Before she hung up she said, “So you’re coming? You’re really coming?”
“I am. I just have to pack.”
He hung up softly and turned to pack. The duffle was full and he was done packing before he’d even stopped dripping on the floor.
Outside thunder rumbled.
photo credit: g_firkser via photopin cc
July 8, 2014
A July freebie...
Lion Hearted, the first book in the Divination Falls trilogy, is free on iTunes for July. Step into my M/M paranormal world if you haven't already. It won't cost you a single penny.
Lion Hearted: https://itunes.apple.com/gb/book/lion-hearted/id601744778?mt=11
XOXO
Sommer
![[image error]](http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TW8Ba11n3FY/U8UpvdZFXKI/AAAAAAAAIOs/RSnJb_XYuIM/s1600/medium_11133849786.jpg){kind=link}