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Orienting myself back towards home, I resist the temptation a couple of times to go darting down streets or turn back when I think I hear him.
By the time I do reach the familiar sight of home, I’m beat. Emotionally and physically.
I’m also soaked through, hearing my feet squelch underneath me as I make my way up the driveway.
I groan once I realize I’ll have to go through the front of the house all wet but reason I can strip once inside, heading straight for the shower.
I hold my thumb against the scanner, my iris level with the security camera which tells the front door it’s really me.
At the same time, I hear the electronic lock click, I can hear Valentine, whinnying with excitement.
Pushing the door hard, I forget all about anything being or getting wet.
Seeing my boy dancing on all fours at the end of the hallway in the kitchen is a sight for sore eyes.
Holding out my arms as I race towards him, I know he won’t budge from his spot unless I say so and I give him his command to come to me.
He’s never felt so good, and he leaps right up into my arms, licking my face I know is wet with more than just the rain by now.
But how did he-?
I spot the puffy coat and boots by the back door, and clutching Valentine closer I start to walk slowly towards the kitchen.
Not a man’s boots. Unless he’s got small feet and likes pink coats.
Then I hear her, a thud from upstairs followed by a cry of pain.
Valentine’s wriggling to get free, not in the least bit bothered by the intruder, which is weird.
Anyone comes within twenty feet without my letting him know it’s okay, and he protects me as much as I protect him.
He seems so… happy.
I set him down and he whines, wanting to run upstairs, but I signal him to stay.
I don’t creep in my own house, and whoever it is has more than the law to worry about too.
Taking three at a time, I scale the stairs and draw myself up as I loom toward my bedroom door.
And there she is, like an angel that’s been superimposed over my life in a single moment.
Just like Valentine that day all those years ago.
She’s just appeared.
I feel my jaw drop, I’m stuck to the spot as my eyes scan her body from behind.
She’s on all fours, favoring one of her shoulders.
She’s fallen over by the looks, trying to dress or undress, I can’t quite tell.
Is that my robe?
But none of that matters right now, I don’t know who she is or how she got into my house either.
But the one thing I do know, the only thing I feel right now is that she’s hurt and she’s not going anywhere.
Not as long as I’m in charge.
My mind wills me to move, but my feet feel like cinder blocks. The whole roof of my mouth is suddenly dry and the cold clothes sticking to me suddenly feel like they’re burning up as I flush with heat.
I should start by asking who the hell she is, how she got in, but in these few seconds, before she’s even aware of me, I feel like it’s my only chance to see a little more of her.
She’s younger than me. Beautiful is what she is too, I can tell from her smooth skin and shapely curves, even though she’s turned away from me.
It looks like she’s tangled up in that robe, which is way too big for her.
It is my robe and seeing her body start to move underneath it, the thin line of her panties, and the partial view I get of her thick chest heaving underneath the thin fabric is enough to finally draw a sound from me.
She gasps as she turns to face me, my eyes flashing to meet hers, crystal blue pools that are filled with apprehension, but not fear.
Apprehension, and something else.
She gnaws at her lip and I hear myself groan, softly but with intensity as her eyes shift from mine long enough to take in the effect she’s having on my cock, which I feel bobbing to life under my drenched track pants.
Her long hair looks dark, with a little still stuck to her face but the parts that are dry enough tell me she’s all blond.
Her round face is flushed, red circles for cheeks that both dimple when she tries to look away but settles only for another glance at my now obvious arousal.
Moving from all fours to a kind of half-sitting position, I can see she’s trembling. Having trouble holding herself up.
Her legs squeeze together and I notice her eyes almost roll back as they narrow, another sound escaping her.
A sound I’ve never heard a woman make in my company.
