Page 93 of Quadruple Duty


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What kind of message just got sent… and to who?

I glanced up again and Briggs was dragging a large plastic painter’s tarp out of the sun room. He draped it over the broken window, using his fingers to pry out the antique mouldings and tuck it behind. I winced but said nothing.

The storm was full force now, and blowing wildly. Toe to toe, Briggs was a full six inches taller than me. He looked me over, the both of us covered in rain and sweat. Blood and grime…

“Come,” he said extending his hand.

Still shaking all over, I took it.

Forty-Four

SAMMARA

Up the staircase we went, dripping water and God knows what else. None of that mattered to me. The house was dark — nearly pitch black — and scarier than I’d ever seen it.

All I wanted was to be near him. His contact was reassuring. I was shivering even more violently now, somewhat still from the adrenaline, but even more from the cold.

I moved closer as he led me down the hallway, deriving scant warmth from the touch of his hand. He opened the door to the master bath. A muted silvery light filtered in from the bathroom window, but the shower’s digital display was as dark as the rest of the house.

“There’s no—”

Briggs pulled a knob out of the wall — one that I hadn’t noticed before. He turned it and water began spraying down, hot and fast. The whole room started filling with steam.

He yanked off his boots. Pulled open his belt buckle. His pants dropped, and suddenly he was naked before me.

Oh wow…

I stood gawking, frozen in place as he stepped beneath the spray. It crashed over him, washing away the caked layers of red and brown. I watched the moonlit filth run down his perfect, ridiculously sculpted body, splashing down his legs and swirling into the drain.

I don’t know how long I stood there before he pulled me in. He did it wordlessly, without asking. Suddenly he was pulling my clothes off with two strong hands, down my legs and over my head, until I was just as naked as he was.

I went willingly, sliding beneath the beautiful world of warmth and heat, feeling the silkiness of the soap gliding over my body as he began scrubbing me clean. I turned around and did him as well. I lathered up his massive back, running my hands up and down every wonderfully firm inch of muscle, until I found myself cupping and caressing his hard, round ass.

It should’ve felt strange, but it didn’t. It was comforting. Comfortable. Touching this dark stranger — this man I barely knew — somehow seemed like the most natural thing in the world.

His hands slid down my legs. Up my body, and around me from behind. Briggs pulled us directly beneath the overhead spray and ran his hands through my hair, washing away the lather, rinsing it clean as we turned into each other. Our bodies were flush now, skin on skin. He stared down at me for a long time as the heat and steam drove the last of the chill from my body.

“They were right,” he said finally. “You are perfect.”

I was lifted from the tile floor as he picked me up and pressed his lips to mine. The kiss was long, hot, passionate. Made even more tactile and sensual by the near-total darkness. I wanted nothing more than to kiss him back, allowing my body to mold itself to his. Feeling the sensations of his strong arms wrapped around me, the water still cascading down all around us.

He pinned me against the wall, and I reached down to stroke him. Dangling between his legs, his cock was thick and strong. It swelled almost instantly at my touch, coming alive in my hand.

Without warning I was being lifted again… and then set straight down upon him. His great body forced my legs apart and I spread wide for him, sighing loudly as he impaled me with the weight of my own body.

“God…”

He sank all the way in, thrusting me upward and pulling me down until I was wrapped fully around him. I slid my arms over his shoulders. Hooked my ankles behind his back. I was bouncing hard as he was already fucking me, using the wall and his legs and everything else for leverage.

“Oh GOD…”

Briggs grunted like a bull as he drove even harder and deeper inside me. He was using my body now — taking it for his own pleasure. Grinding his hips greedily at the end of every thrust, filling me with his heat and his thickness until I felt deliciously, deliriously full.

My face found his and we began kissing again, our tongues delving deep, like two lost lovers reconnecting. The darkness enveloped us. Blanketed us with anonymity and warmth. And the water…

The water felt almost like it was washing away weeks and months of disconnect. Imbuing us with a strange yet wonderful sense of instant intimacy and emotional closeness. As we writhed against each other in the swirling steam, it cemented our physical union. Broke down whatever walls might’ve been there to begin with, only to replace them with all new, intangible bonds.

He began going harder. Faster. It was almost inhuman, how physical he could be, how much he needed exactly what he was doing. Our bodies crashed together, clapping loudly, water splashing everywhere as he turned me around and bent me face down against the opposite wall.

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