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“No, just unhappy.”
Hobo turns on his side and watches me in the moonlit room. “You picked this house. This is what you like.”
“It was pretty and easy to care for. Back with my parents, I lived in the apartment above their garage. I was never home, so I didn’t think I needed much space. Just somewhere comfortable to rest my head. And this little house felt fine for just me. Except what if I manage to become real friends with those biker wives? I’ll never be able to invite them over.”
“I can build you a house with everything you want,” Hobo says, sounding so unguarded as he opens up about his dreams. “I just don’t know how to create a place that wouldn’t make me want to run away.”
“I don’t know anything about house design or even decorating. Most of the stuff in this house was already here. I didn’t pick the furniture or wall décor. If you and I built a house together, we’d ask someone smart how to give us what we need.”
“You’re smart about stuff.”
“I learned early on how I lacked certain skills, so I delegated or outsourced. We’ll do that when we build our house.”
I let my words settle in the air. We were strangers a week ago. Though Hobo already owned my heart, I didn’t know him. Now, we’re talking about building a house. This is the best kind of madness.
Hobo nods after considering my words. “Eagle’s place is nice. It was just empty land. Somehow, he turned his ideas into a real home. I suppose we can do that. Except I don’t have any ideas.”
“Neither do I. Well, I want a bigger kitchen.”
“And I need windows instead of walls.”
“That’s a start. Someone smarter can help us figure out the rest.”
Hobo exhales softly, easing into a dream I doubt he ever craved before. We doze off with thoughts about the future lingering between us.
More than once, Hobo wakes up, seems ready to bolt when he reaches out and feels the walls too close. His hands find me, nearly gripping my body like a security blanket. We talk a little about him taking me hiking or how I want to try overnight camping. Once his mind pictures a world bigger than this house, he sleeps again.
The sun wakes me early. I slip out of bed and brew two cups of coffee. While the smell rouses Hobo, I take a shower. I’m damp and naked when I find him still stretched out in bed. He wiggles his finger to lure me closer.
I climb over Hobo, savoring his sleepy body with its fully awake cock. Moaning like a cat in heat, I rest my hands on his chest and ride him through two orgasms. Hobo watches me while his fingers leisurely tease my nipples. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen him so relaxed. He whispers my name as he finds relief.
My pussy soaks up every drop of his pleasure. Tightening around his cock, I don’t want to let go. A day in bed with Hobo sounds like a heaven.
However, his growling stomach breaks through my horny haze. The cook in me insists I feed this man. I kiss him once before grudgingly freeing his cock from my pussy’s grip.
“I know it’s not much,” I admit of the fried eggs and toast as he stands at the bedroom doorway.
Hobo looks around the space, decides he can tolerate the pale blue loveseat, and sinks into the surprisingly comfy cushions. I hand him the plate and coffee before joining him. Our meal is quick with us both in a hurry to get out of the house and somewhere with more room to stretch.
First, I need to check on Rose the Cat and her kittens. I step outside barefoot and carefree. I didn’t once think to put on makeup or hide myself from Hobo. I wear a pair of jogging shorts I’ve owned for twenty years and never used for jogging. My white tank top is stained from my many quickie meals after getting home late from work. Hobo’s reaction when I got dressed was to flash me a sly grin as if my outfit made him hard. Talk about feeding a girl’s ego!
Crouching down, I see Rose the Cat in the back of the doggy igloo. She lifts her head at the sight of me. I count the wiggling kittens suckling at her. Still four. No one perished while I was focused on Hobo. I know nature is rough, so I’ve tried to harden my heart to the possibility that the cats will die or flee. However, I’m still thrilled to find them all safely together.
I take Rose the Cat’s bowls inside, refill them and bring them out while bouncing around like a lovesick fool. Hobo used to watch me with the same wariness as the cat. This morning, though, he remains mellow, as the breeze through the open front door allows him to breathe comfortably.
I’m also incredible chill. Maybe that’s why I don’t react until the broom slams across my left eye and nose. With zero warrior princess mojo, I fall back onto the grass and stare in horror.
“Whore!” Velma squawks. “You sleazy tramp!”
As Velma goes to swing her weapon again. I remain stunned on the ground. I’ve never been hit in the face before. Blood leaks from my nose. Though it’s only a trickle, I’m still horrified.
Hobo appears from the house, steals the broom mid-swing from Velma’s grip, and snaps it in half. He reaches for her, flipping her frail body upside down. Marching with her in that position, he brings her to her porch and dumps her on the bench.
“I want that whore out of my house!”
“You signed a lease, bitch!” he hollers back.
“I don’t care! I want her gone! She’s a lying tramp!” Velma screams as I get to my feet and watch them yell at each other. “I’m not afraid of you, biker!”
