Rising Heat (8 page)

After I had Alice situated, I headed for my bedroom. It had been a long day. I was ready to take a shower and get some sleep. Tomorrow would bring what tomorrow would bring. Man, I was sounding like a girl. Pathetic.

I headed toward the section of the loft that closed off a small bedroom, stripping off my shirt as I walked in the darkness toward the corner. Dingy, multi-paned windows looked over downtown Denver. I stared at the lights for several minutes, captivated, my mind wandering, until more serious thoughts took precedence. Should I leave? Start somewhere else, start a new life with a new attitude? Could I?

I had been so sure, for so many years, that I was doing what I wanted to do, but I had just been fooling myself. I was the one who had gone walking through the past few years with blinders on, seeing only what I wanted to see, feeling only what I wanted to feel, regardless of whether it was the truth or not.

I stepped out of my boots, peeled off my jeans and boxers, standing naked in the darkness. The cool night air caused goosebumps to erupt on my skin. My balls shriveled upward. No one could see me, and if someone did, I couldn’t care less. I glanced down at myself, saw the outline of the barbed wire tattoo on my chest. For the first time, it seemed childish, but there was nothing to be done about it now. Those strands of wire would forever remind me of a reckless youth.

With a sigh, I headed for the bathroom. I flipped on the light, stepped to the bathtub and reached down to turn on the faucets. After a few rattles and groans from the water heater in the corner of the kitchen, spurts of water emerged from the rusty shower head. I tested the water and then stepped under the flow.

Turning my face to the hard water, I knew one thing if I knew nothing else. I was ready to face life again. No more excuses. No more feeling sorry for myself. No more using the past to hold me back.

I leaned against the cold, hard tiles of the shower wall and shook my head. I felt utterly drained. Lost. But also excited. A fresh start. A new girl to hang out with, someone better than a one-night fuck.

My cock swelled as I thought about her eyes again, the way she felt, the little noises she made. What kind of noises would she make in bed? Did she like to talk? Scream? Did her body shake through her orgasms? Did her pussy taste as sweet as her mouth looked? I wanted to find out.

Closing my fist around my cock, I thought of Kathy. I imagined it was her mouth I was about to fuck. I rotated my hand around the head, wishing it was her tongue swirling around the tip, her throat I was about to enter, taking her until she gagged. I could almost see her on her knees, one hand gripping the base, guiding me between her lips. Her other hand would be palming my balls, gently bouncing them in her palm.

Harder, faster, I imagined I was fucking her pussy now, her fingernails sinking into my back while she lifted her hips to meet me thrust for thrust.

I pound my cock harder, in and out of a fist that had become her sweet body in my mind. Over and over I stroked myself, picking up speed, feeling my balls tighten and lift. The head of my cock thickened and I spasmed my load into the drain. God. It felt like gallons were released.

As I caught my breath and turned my face to the shower again, I made a decision. I would stay in Denver, see the woman I couldn’t seem to get out of my mind. Because she was good and damned well imprinted there.

So, I’d take her for coffee. And maybe, just maybe, I wouldn’t fuck things up this time.

Kathy

B
y the time I got home, I was exhausted. Mentally and physically. It’d been a long week, and I had been looking forward to nothing more than a quiet, peaceful, stress-free weekend. I had to put in a few hours tomorrow morning at my other job, but that was nothing. I’d be done by noon. Now, I had something else on my calendar — coffee with Ash. What was I thinking?

It was late as I walked down the hallway toward my apartment, the last one on the right on the second floor. My apartment complex was okay, encompassing about twenty buildings or so. It wasn’t a gated community, but it was safe enough.

Sure, there was the occasional argument erupting from the apartment next door. Once in a while, I saw a police car at the complex, but overall, I didn’t worry. I knew that some of the tenets were questionable, but as long as they left me alone, I didn’t much care as long as they didn’t blare their crappy rap music until all hours of the night. Of course, I was always cautious when I came home at night, parking as close to my building as I could. I kept my key ready in my hand, always aware of what went on around me. It wasn’t that I was paranoid, just cautious. I watched enough crime shows not to take anything for granted.

As I slid into my apartment and flipped the deadbolt, I had to stop myself from beating my head against the door. What in heaven’s name had I been thinking? I wasn’t looking for a boyfriend or a one-night stand. At the same time, my stomach flipped an excited somersault at the thought of seeing him again. He made me tingle in places that hadn’t tingled in a long, long time.

While I’m not a virgin by any stretch of the imagination, I’m not very experienced with guys either. I had a couple of boyfriends in high school and in my early college years, nothing serious. I didn’t really have a “type” that I fell for and had never been one of those girls who wanted to tame a bad boy. I didn’t date for status. I had enough self-confidence in myself that I didn’t need to impress anyone with how cool I was.

I sighed and turned on the light, and then simply stood there, my purse dangling from my hand as I stared around at my okay apartment in the okay apartment complex of my okay life. It was way overpriced as far as I was concerned. It was a nice enough part of Thornton, and much cheaper than apartments in my native San Diego, but way more expensive than my budget liked.

I tossed my purse on the chair and wrinkled my nose at my living room. Most of my furniture had come from secondhand stores or ordered online through IKEA. It was serviceable, comfortable enough, but I’d never considered the apartment my
home.
It was just a place to live. I was, in fact, rather tired of my humdrum apartment with secondhand furniture that I took apart and put together with a screw driver or Allen wrench.

Everything was disposable.

Or at least transitional.

I guess I felt like I couldn’t really put down roots here. Not because I didn’t like Denver. I loved the city and the surrounding area. I just had my sights set on something better. Not because I felt the need to impress anyone, but because when I did put down roots, I wanted it to be in a place I could think of as a home.

Home to me was more than just four walls and a bunch of mismatched furniture. It was a place where I could feel safe and comfortable. A sanctuary if you will. This place offered me shelter, and I was grateful for that. But I longed for a sanctuary. But until I finished school and found a job as a veterinarian, this was my lot in life. Nevertheless, I was so tired of living hand to mouth, paycheck to paycheck. I was tired all the time. My furniture looked tired as well. Not threadbare, but well used. My entire existence felt tired and boring.

Maybe I should live on the wild side a little. Be daring, maybe even a little bit reckless. As I headed into the kitchen to see what I could fix for dinner, I wondered what had me bursting at the seams like this, but already knew the answer. The handsome, charismatic Ash Bascom. I got the feeling that there was way more depth to him that he was letting on. I could feel it.

I glanced in the refrigerator, unimpressed by what I saw. A half-gallon of fat-free milk. The fixings for a sandwich. Low-sodium deli meat, reduced-fat Swiss cheese, and wheat bread. A container of leftover supermarket-prepared meatloaf. I reached for it, thinking I could just nuke it. As I opened the lid, I got a whiff. Ugh. I don’t know how long it had been in the fridge, but according to the stench emanating from the container and the fact that my eyes were now watering, it was way past its expiration date. I closed the lid tightly and tossed it into the trash can, then lit a candle to mask the smell. Tomorrow after work I would go shopping. Take care of a few errands. Maybe do some cleaning. Oh wait, I was supposed to meet Ash first. Well, maybe after.

I grabbed a slice of cheese out of the package of Swiss, smelled it, and determined that it was safe. I saw no signs of green stuff growing on it, and it didn’t smell funky. As I took a bite, I wondered if I should just cancel the date with Ash. Not really a date but I didn’t know what else to call it. I didn’t like change. Yes, I was lonely, and someday, I hope to rectify it, but with Ash Bascom? No way in hell.

So why had I accepted his invitation?

“You know why,” I muttered into the silent apartment.

I headed for the bathroom, took care of business, and then got ready for an evening of vegging out before bed. I was too tired to even take a shower. I would take one first thing in the morning. All I wanted to do was get some sleep. I desperately needed it before I cracked the books and began studying for upcoming semi-finals.

But I couldn’t get Ash Bascom out of my head!

I should be focusing on school, the inventory that I had to take care of on Monday, double checking my schedule for the week. I undressed and donned my pajamas; a pair of light weight olive green and navy blue plaid bottoms and a dark blue t-shirt that were nearly threadbare I’d worn them so often.

As I climbed into bed and stared up at the ceiling, thinking of all the things I needed to do this weekend, my thoughts kept tripping back to Ash, wondering once again why he’d asked me out.

Was I reading too much into it? He was probably just apologizing for being an asshole, or maybe just showing his appreciation for me going out of my way with the snake enclosure. What was a cup of coffee anyway? It wasn’t a real date, certainly not a marriage proposal. So what was the big deal?

Besides, after tomorrow, I would probably never see him again, which was fine by me. Really! I didn’t have the time for relationships, and when I had a few hours to myself, I just wanted to lounge around, run errands, or order Chinese and sit on my ass watching TV all day.

I knew that because of where I lived, most people in my area, at least on
their
days off, headed for the mountains. To say that Colorado was an active state with plenty of things to do nearby was an understatement. The mountains were less than a half hour away. In the summertime, plenty of opportunities for hiking, camping, fishing, or just taking scenic drives. In the winter, there was snowboarding and skiing, cross-country skiing and even snowshoeing. Growing up in San Diego I knew I should be taking more advantage of the beautiful scenery and option for activities, but dammit, sometimes all I wanted to do was veg.

The thought of braving adventures by myself was unthinkable. To go hiking by myself? Dangerous and stupid. What if I fell or got hurt? Or lost. I could die out there from my own stupidity. Plus, it was cold, and getting colder with every day that passed. I hated being cold. My co-workers already laughed at me for wearing thin long-sleeved shirts under my uniform top when everyone else was walking around in t-shirts or tank tops. I knew it would take time to acclimate to Colorado weather, and I knew that in time, I would. When everyone else was complaining because it hit eighty-five degrees and the air conditioners were cranked up to maximum, I was perfectly comfortable and wondering what all the complaints were about. I think it all balanced out.

Enough distraction.

Time to go to sleep.

But, even as I closed my eyes, my mind drifted back to my current dilemma. Ash. Tomorrow. Coffee. Just thinking of him made my stomach churn in anxiety and something else. A delicious tingle that forced me to press my thighs together and curl into a ball of longing.

Every cell inside me remembered what it felt like to be clasped in his embrace, crushed up against that hard body of his. Feeling his heat, his muscles, the bulging veins that threaded up his forearms and biceps. He was beautiful. Muscular. Dangerous looking.

I didn’t know why I thought Ash looked dangerous. He didn’t look vicious. Other than his bad temper on the phone, he’d been nothing but kind. He hadn’t sworn in my presence. Hadn’t ogled me. In fact, I hadn’t felt any threat from him when he opened his door, despite his size. Sure, the tattoos on his chest had thrown me for a loop, but he had behaved like a perfect gentleman. Well, except when he smacked my behind. And he only did that to get my attention and calm me down in the midst of my stupid snake induced hysteria.

How embarrassing.

And sexy.

The guys I’d gone out with in high school and college had been well, nearly milquetoast as the old-fashioned saying used to go. Of course, if I compared those guys with Ash, they
were
boring and dull. The guys I’d met in Denver hadn’t attracted me either.

But, wow, I was attracted to Ash.

Heart skipping, stomach clenching, mind churning attraction that made me want to lick his tattoos, then lick lower.

Normally, I didn’t think about sex. I had better things to do. Well, that was a lie; it’s what I kept telling myself every time a relationship went south. But I was thinking about sex now. My nipples were thinking about it. My lips and tongue. Every inch of my skin. And my clitoris, whew, it was on fire, begging me to let it come out and play.

I punched my pillow and turned onto my stomach, realized that was a mistake and turned onto my side. I controlled my body, not the other way around. I would go to sleep now and forget all this achy needing shit going on between my legs.

I punched my pillow again.

Dammit.

*

When I opened my eyes the following morning, my body still hummed and thrummed with sensations. I looked around, surprised to be in my room. And disappointed. It had been a dream, after all.

A dream I could still feel.

A dream of Ash making love to me.

No wonder my body was thrumming with pleasure. No wonder my pussy was throbbing with the aftermath of a climax I’d achieved in my sleep, strong enough to wake me. Oh my God. It was startling, the power that this stranger had over me and I didn’t even know why. There was no doubt that Ash Bascom was all man, and maybe that’s what was so attractive and charismatic about him. He was like Iron Man, the Marlboro man, the epitome of manliness. Of course, his rugged good looks didn’t hurt either.