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“Fuck,” I mutter.
Heat at my back is my only warning as the overalls are yanked down my shoulders, but before I can slip my arms out, the material is pulled harshly together at my back, my hands secured as if in cuffs. My chest presses forward as goosebumps spread from my neck where Trevor’s warm breath fans down.
“This stops now,” he growls.
He releases me as quickly as he grabbed me. The door slams behind him before I turn. He’s gone. And that is good, as when I look down past my chest where my heart is beating hard, I see my cock straining against my trousers.
What the fuck?
5
The Wrong Kiss
The wind kept waking Adam through the night, the sides of the tent flapping, and that’s why neither of us got much sleep.
That’s what I’m telling myself anyway. Surely my son couldn’t have picked up on my mood or been woken every time I tossed and turned on the air mattress we share.
Why the hell did I get aroused when arguing with Trevor? Is it that long since I’ve had sex that anything that raises my pulse will turn me on? Truth be told, I’ve never had such an intense sexual reaction, ever. It takes a long time for me to get turned on. I accepted long ago that I have a low sex drive, but there was nothing “low” about what happened in the barn. No woman has ever made me feel like that.
No man either, for that sake.
I’ve never been with a man, but I can’t deny that I find the masculine body nice to look at, and it has happened before that a nice specimen has caught my attention. But that’s only normal, isn’t it? I’ve always had girlfriends, since I was very young. If my eyes lingered on the body of a man, I would have quickly looked away. Giving attention to a man would be the same as giving attention to another woman, and I’m no cheat. No, I’m every woman’s dream partner. Even though they say they want a dark, broody, bad boy, they really want me. Someone faithful, attentive and kind, someone who will hold her hand and always make sure her needs come first, both generally and in bed. To me, my orgasm has never been as important as theirs, in fact, it’s not unusual for me to go without. There’s more to satisfying a woman than fucking her. My hands and mouth know their way around a woman’s body just as much as my cock does. And don’t get me started on sex toys, I’m a god damn expert. Just because I don’t always ejaculate doesn’t have to mean the woman has to suffer.
And now I got a hard-on while arguing with a man? He may be very attractive, but still… It’s very confusing.
“Carry meeeee.”
I sigh. Adam’s cranky mood this morning is going to drive me over the edge. I don’t know how I’ll be able to shower with Adam this needy. It’s not like my mood is any better than his, with a headache thumping at the base of my skull. I hike him up on my hip, a plastic bag with my shower stuff in one hand and the dishes we used for breakfast in another bag digging into the wrist of my other arm. If I’d pitched the tent closer, I could have done separate runs for washing dishes and showering instead of trying to do it all at once. I shift Adam’s weight to find a more comfortable position. The sooner Trevor can finish that new bigger kitchen the better; the queue to wash dishes was several people long. And there are still two people in front of me in the shower queue.
“Morning, Adam, morning, Jamie.”
I smile at the sweet voice behind us and turn, but it’s not the familiar bright blue that greet us. Red rims Julie’s eyes and her gaze is dull.
“Julie, are you ok?”
She drops her head. “It’s… it’s just been a bad morning.”
“Has your brother been annoying you?” He hasn’t lashed out at Julie because of me, has he?
But she laughs at my comment. “He always annoys me.”
Adam fidgets and whines in my arms. I try to shush him and ask Julie, “Do you want to talk?”
She looks at me for a second, then takes a deep breath. “What do you say, Adam, do you want to go into the house and watch a cartoon? You can have your shower once he’s settled?” She adds the last bit to me.
My son’s eyes are watery and his lip wobbles. “I want to watch a ca’toon.”
“Are you sure that’s ok, Julie?”
“Positive. Come on.” She holds her arms out for Adam, who reaches for her.
“I like ca’toons,” he whimpers in her arms. He definitively needs a nap later today.
The house is as you’d expect farmhouses to be – a bit cluttered and old fashioned, a strange mix of antique furniture and some newer additions. Adam is positioned in front of the TV, propped up with cushions and a purple teddy bear in his arms, his name is Wally, Julie tells Adam.
I take Julie’s hand and lead her into the big kitchen. It’s any housewife’s dream with two large larders and an Aga set in the old walk-in fireplace.
“Now, tell me what’s wrong,” I insist.
