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Austin
The morning sun creeps in,warming the small bed. Ruth is cuddled up on my chest, one leg thrown over me, trying to make two of us fit on a mattress built for one.
I can already feel the pain radiating up my back as I contort myself to slip out of bed without waking Ruthie. It’s difficult because even in her sleep she tries to cling to me, throwing her arms and legs back over me the second I pry one off.
Today, after work, we go mattress shopping.
I add it to my mental to-do list as I enter the shower.
The water is piping hot, exactly what I need to soothe my aching muscles. I crank it all the way up. After years in prison, private showers are a luxury that I will never take for granted again.
Good thing I fixed the hot water heater.
I lean against the wall, letting the warm spray loosen my tight back. I can't help but think back to the night before as my fingers trace the still-angry red row of scratches down the front of my chest. Ruthie marked me as much as I marked her. Just thinking back to how wild she was makes my dick start to swell with need.
Ruth slips into the shower as if I summoned her by thinking about her, rubbing her eyes, and smiling sleepily.
"G'morning," she whispers, leaning in to hug me.
"Good morning. I didn't mean to wake you up," I murmur, kissing the top of her head.
“I wasn’t about to let an opportunity like this go to waste,” Ruth grins, rubbing her hand across my soapy stomach, trailing it lower as I groan.
"Isn't this interrupting your morning jog?" I pant as she slips her hand around my already stiff shaft, stroking me. “I don’t want to mess up your schedule.”
“I’ll just have to get my cardio in another way.” Ruthie’s smile is intoxicating. “I wanted to say good morning to my new favorite part of you.”
I've got her up against the wall in a blink, my cock already pressing into her. I learned a lot about Ruthie last night. I already know she’s soaked for me even before I feel her slick lips wrapping around my cock as I slide into her.
Her legs wrap around my waist, squeezing tight. Her nails rake matching lines down my back. Sweet moans fill my ear as I pump quickly. Ruthie’s kisses are as hot as her sweet little pussy.
The other thing I learned is that it doesn’t take much for Ruthie to orgasm. At least, not with me. She swears she takes forever by herself, but I’m barely a dozen strokes in when I feel the vice-grip of her cunt milking my cock. I want to hold out, but it’s too fucking good, and I shoot deep inside her, moaning as I shudder and pump into her again and again.
I leave her to finish the shower alone. It takes a herculean effort of will to wrench myself away from a naked Ruthie, but I don't want to throw her off her routine any more than I already have.
I know what comfort the safety of it is for her. It’s already a huge step for her to let me disturb her tranquility. Knowing Ruth is willing to build a new routine with me is a gift.
After I drop her off at the school, I head back to her apartment. Snickers greets me at the door, rubbing up against my leg as I close it behind me. That’s new, too.
“You certainly warmed up to me quickly. I guess that’s the real seal of approval, huh?”
Snickers meows again and again, incessantly. She swipes and scratches, nipping at my ankles. The cat is usually saucy, but this kind of erratic behavior is unlike her.
“Hey, hey. I was just kidding. I know you’re a badass. You don’t have to claw me apart like Ruthie did,” I joke, trying to escape the wrath of the agitated cat.
Finally, she just twists and darts off. Snickers leaps up the open window and out of the apartment. Ruthie ex[plained that the cat was a rescue, formerly feral, and likes to come and go as she pleases. I still feel a pang whenever I see her disappear.
The world isn’t a safe place for pretty things, feline or otherwise.
I take my notes, sit on the sofa, and pull Ruthie's laptop over.
Somewhere out there in the world, someone is hunting my girl. I need to find them first. Find them, and stop them. Even if it means going back to jail for the rest of my life.
I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her safe.
The only problem is that I have no idea where to start. It's hard to stay in touch with people when you're an ex-con. They magically don't seem to get any of your voicemails.
I don’t blame them. Hell, I don’t want anything to do with a lot of the guys I used to run with. They weren’t good people. I’m not either, but I’m determined to work on it for Ruthie’s sake. She deserves someone good.
