Sweet Salvation (10 page)

Walking to the counter, she put her hand on the milk jug. It was room temperature and the butter was warm and soft. They’d been out for a while. Fuzzy-headed, she pressed her hands to her temples and flopped onto one of her ladder-back kitchen chairs, trying to remember. Sighing heavily, she gave up. The strain wasn’t worth it. It was those damn pills. The last time this had happened, it was laundry. She’d awoken much like today—bleary-eyed and groggy—to find piles of clean folded clothes all over her apartment. The time before that she’d alphabetized her CD collection and stacked them in the door of the refrigerator.

This time she’d cooked. She raised weary eyes to the mess and noticed the oven was still on.
Crapola!
This was worse than any of the other times. Sleepwalking was one thing. Sleep-cleaning was disturbing, but kind of nice, actually. Getting every article of clothing and linen washed and folded in one night? How awesome was that? Cooking in her sleep on the other hand was scary-dangerous. Damn sleeping pills—she couldn’t risk taking them anymore. What if the next time she burned down the house?

Where did that leave her, back to being too scared to close her eyes and walking around like a caffeine-addicted zombie? The only nights she could sleep were when Jared slept over or if she stayed at his place, which had been more often than not ever since he’d laid down the gauntlet and ‘commenced with the courtin’.’ Last night he hadn’t been there to keep her nighttime demons at bay, and wouldn’t be for the next four, either. He was at a medical conference in San Francisco.

Resting her heavy head on her folded arms, she leaned on her kitchen table, exhausted. How would she make it through the next few days—5-hour energy? No-Doz? Maybe she’d try the other extreme and drink herself into a drunken stupor before bed so she wouldn’t dream. Sighing again, she didn’t find either option acceptable.

Calling in sick for the day, she hastily cleaned up her kitchen and crawled into bed for a nap. For some reason, the nightmares didn’t torment her during the day. Maybe, she thought sleepily, she’d just work the nightshift until Jared got back.

* * *

Standing on tiptoe, she strained to see over the arriving passengers, her eyes searching for his dark head. Toward the end of the heavy wave of travelers, she saw him. Smiling, she lifted her hand, waving excitedly to get his attention. A flash of white appeared in his handsome face when he spied her, his grin and chin lift his acknowledgement.

Pushing her way through the crowd, she met him halfway, eagerly going into his outstretched arms, her face tilting up for a welcoming kiss.

As they were jostled by the bustling crowd streaming around them, Jared lifted his head, ending the kiss much too soon for her liking. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his waist and clung to him tightly. “I missed you, Jared.”

Separating from her gently, he cupped her face. A frown altered his happy expression. “You look pale and tired, honey. Have you been sick?”

“No, I’m fine. I just haven’t been sleeping well. I’ve gotten used to you next to me. Sheba is not nearly as cuddly and warm as you are.”

“Hm, next time I suppose you’ll have to come with me, eh?”

“I wish I had this time. You look rested and tan.”

“I squeezed in a round of golf or two.”

“Figures.” Raising her hand to his cheek, she smiled up at him. “I’m glad you’re home.”

“Me too. After we get my bag, let’s get a quick bite and call it an early night.”

“I’d like that.”

The metallic shriek of the conveyor belt behind them signaled the arrival of the luggage. Jared’s case was one of the first off. He grabbed it easily and with an arm around her shoulders, they made their way out of the busy airport. Home was a forty-minute drive. They stopped at their favorite sandwich shop a few miles from Jared’s house and were home by eight o’clock.

Bruno, his chocolate lab, greeted him excitedly as they walked in from the garage. Jared, who was on the floor giving him a full body doggie rubdown, seemed just as happy to see him. “Someone else missed me.”

“Marc must have dropped him off earlier this afternoon. I’m sorry I couldn’t keep him, but he and Sheba in my cracker box apartment would have been a disaster.” Stacy said, watching with amusement as Jared got a sloppy kiss right on the mouth. When he grimaced and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, she laughed. “Ew! No kisses for you tonight, I know where that tongue has been.”

“I’ll brush twice and use mouthwash, baby, because there will be kissing. Lots of it.” He gave her a leering grin, waggling his eyebrows, but Bruno wasn’t ready to give up his man’s attention just yet and tackled him onto the kitchen floor.

“I’ll just leave you two alone,” she teased as she turned to leave. From the end of the hallway, she turned back and called, remembering, “I’m taking a shower. If you want to join me, I brought Bruno one of those beef basted bones he likes so much. That should keep him occupied for an hour or so. It’s on the kitchen counter.”

She was in the walk-in closet, hanging up her sweater, when she heard the bedroom door open. A moment later, Jared walked in.

“Worked like a charm. He’s happily chewing and won’t come up for air for a while. You are a genius, baby.”

“No, I’m sneaky. I didn’t want to have to fight him for your attention. He outweighs me by several pounds.”

She tugged off her jeans as she watched him in the wall-size mirror at the far end of the closet. He’d sat on the padded bench and was tugging off his boots.

“Let me help, darlin’.” She walked to him and grabbed onto the boot he helpfully held up for her. She pulled, then she yanked. “How do you stand these things without a zipper?”

“Zips on men’s boots are not cool, baby. Turn around and straddle my leg, then tug.”

Looking at him dubiously, she raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“Seriously, that’s the best way to do it. Haven’t you ever seen an old western?”

Narrowing her eyes at him, she gave his grin a distrustful glance, but since she wanted him out of his boots and naked ASAP, she gave his technique a try. With his boot in her hands, she swung one of her legs over his and clasped it firmly between her thighs. She yanked and it came off easily. She dropped it to the floor with a thud. “That was easy.”

“Mm-hm.”

Glancing over her shoulder at his distracted tone, she found his eyes glued to her butt. She grinned, knowing the fascination her backside held for him. “Give me your other foot, sugar.”

He lifted his leg and she straddled that one, ready to take on boot number two. This time, his big hands cupped her hips, his thumbs stroking over her panties.

It was no accident that she had worn her purple mesh, black-trimmed panties. They had three black peek-a-boo bows in the back, smack dab in the middle. Little glimpses of bare skin peeked between the bows, as well as through the see-through fabric.

“You have great underwear, baby. Please tell me your bra matches.” His foot thumped on the floor as he leaned forward and pulled up her tee. Cooperatively, she raised her arms as he whooshed it over her head. The stretchy mesh fabric molded it closely to her body. “Mmm…” His hands immediately went to the matching purple and black mesh cami. “Very nice, you went shopping.”

“This is your welcome home present.”

“Yeah? Bring it on over here so I can get a better look.”

“Shouldn’t I get your boot first?”

Chuckling, Jared lifted his foot again. “Shows how distracting you are. I forgot I still had it on.”

She bent and yanked on the other, his boot coming off at the same time his fingers dipped under the bows on her panties. Surprised, she jumped and his boot went flying. It sailed through the air, landing in the bedroom, well beyond the closet door.

“Come here, baby. Let me get a good look at my gift.” Turning her in his arms, he pulled her into him, his hands sliding behind her, one going high between her shoulders, the other going low, cupping her sparsely covered bottom. Burying his face between her breasts, he inhaled. “Damn, I missed you. Five days seemed like a month.”

Stacy’s hands clasped his head, spearing through his hair, holding him tight to her breasts.

“Come onto my lap so I can see those sexy bows in back.”

Stacy bent, intending to sit on his thigh, when he stopped her.

“No,
over
my lap,” he explained, patting his thighs. “Face down, bottom up, baby doll.”

Her face flamed, but her heart rate picked up speed as her nipples tightened and her pussy clenched. Hesitantly, she moved out from between his spread thighs and stood by his side. He immediately guided her into place.

She grabbed the end of the bench, one hand gripping his leg above his ankle.

“Relax, sweetheart,” Jared’s voice soothed, in a deep hushed tone. “I want to play a bit.”

His broad hand swept down the back of one thigh, sliding back up and over her panties. His fingers traced the black edging, dipping between her thighs to tease the thin material there. They then followed the shadowed line of her cleft up to the bows at the top of her panties. His fingertips dipped beneath the bows and tugged the material gently down, lowering them until they came to rest at mid-thigh.

“You have the most beautiful ass, baby.” He squeezed her, molding and shaping her flesh with his warm hands. Stacy groaned at the erotic massage. One of his hands skimmed up her skin, stroking up and down until his palm came to rest at the small of her back. Stacy relaxed against him, enjoying his attention.

He moved beside her and she felt his lips against her bare shoulder as his hand came down in a firm slap on her bottom. She gasped. It hadn’t hurt, not at all, just surprised her. He nipped her with his teeth as he repeated the slap on her other cheek, a little harder.

“Jared!” she exhaled, otherwise speechless.

“Your ass is perfect for spanking.” Two more of the same intensity, landed on alternating cheeks. “Round and luscious, sweet—like succulent fruit—a peach, I think.” He rubbed where he had spanked her, stroking and squeezing. “My sweet little Georgia peach…”

Stacy’s heart beat wildly in her chest, her breathing shallow with short little pants as she waited, expectantly for what would come next. She didn’t have to wait long as Jared’s searching fingers dipped between her thighs again, this time grazing her clit and teasing her wet opening before returning to her bottom. “You’re dripping with juices already. That’s damn hot. You like getting your bottom swatted, don’t you?”

Stunned by the unexpected turn the evening had taken, she opened her mouth, but no words would come out. He was right. She liked it, every exhilarating nuance inflaming her senses.

Two harder swats to each cheek had her sucking in her breath. A slight sting this time, although still not painful, but the sound of his palm against her taut skin reverberated in the small room, like a gunshot. “Stacy? Are you with me?”

“Yes,” she managed.

“Answer me please, are you enjoying your first spanking?”

“God, yes!”

He made a low, satisfied sound of approval. “That’s my good girl. I knew you would.”

She could hear the smile in his voice. “I think I’ll finish unwrapping my present now and see what other surprises are in store for me.”

Her panties were gone the next instant and he was spreading her thighs, his long finger dipping inside again, this time penetrating her channel, pumping once, twice, before it was joined by a second.

“Ah…” Noises escaped from her mouth, loud guttural sex noises—they were all she could produce at this point. She wanted more but since she couldn’t say it, she showed him, spreading her thighs wider and lifting her bottom eagerly.

Jared didn’t disappoint and eagerly got down to business, his hand applying six more swats across previously untouched skin until her entire bottom tingled with a warm, prickly heat. Her nails dug into thick denim as she gripped his lower leg, her other hand burrowing into the bench padding. She was mindless, as if her conscious awareness and all intelligent thought, along with all the blood in her entire body, had flown away from other vital areas, like her brain, and flooded to one focal point, her bottom. The adjacent areas of her thighs and pussy also felt the effects as her core became ablaze with sensation.

She writhed beneath his hand, finding just the right angle to grind her pulsating clit against his jeans-covered thigh.

“More? Do you want to come, baby, while I’m spanking you?”

God, yes!
her mind screamed, but what came out was a low, agonizing groan in response.

“I’m assuming those are groans of pleasure and that you do,” he continued, urging her on with his words, and his hand connected, lower this time. His paddle-like hand landed just above her thighs, the smacks penetrated deep inside and triggered the beginning of the end for Stacy.

With each blow, the weight of his hand or the teasing brush of his fingertips, zoned right in, making a direct hit on her receptive clit. The next smack landed hot and wet, precisely, unerringly, deliciously on her pussy. That was it. She exploded into a convulsing shouting shuddering mass of completion, as she surrendered beneath his hand.

Then she was being moved as Jared’s strong hands lifted, positioning her on her knees on the edge of the plush bench. “Sorry, baby. But I’ve got to have you now.”

A powerful arm wrapped around her waist as he plunged into her from behind. What little breath she had left was expelled with the force of his penetration in her still clenching, spasming channel. Instantly, she soared toward another peak, driven by the surge of his body within her. Something broke free and she screamed. “Yes, Jared! Fuck me!”

He did so, masterfully, and she came again, exquisitely. It was a homecoming like no other. As he filled her, he rode the waves of her orgasm into a stunning release of his own. His strength was the only thing keeping Stacy from collapsing into a puddle of satisfied goo, right there on his closet floor.

She slept straight through that night, drifting off instantly the moment her head hit the pillow. Her last memory was of Jared whispering, “Sleep, baby,” against her forehead, after carrying her limp, sated, and barely conscious body to his bed. She had, without worrying about what new torments the night would bring. She didn’t toss or turn restlessly, and no nightmares jarred her from her sleep. She had undeniably passed out in his arms; the cumulative effect of four long sleepless nights and multiple orgasms had overtaken her exhausted mind and body.