“Come on. We don't have all day.”
Nodding, my hands slowly make their way to the hem and I tug the garment over my head in one swoop, tossing it to the ground. His fingers slide up to the front of my pants and I don't move as he undoes the button. He tugs down the zipper, keeping his eyes on mine and slides my jeans down my legs. “I'll take these to the laundry room and grab you some clean clothes. I'll also look for a first-aid kit for those scrapes on your elbow. My gaze follows his and I didn't even realize I'd gotten hurt. Not that it's a surprise when I find ways to bang myself up every chance I get, not knowing what bruise or scar comes from where.
He makes a beeline for the hallway, entering the right room the first time. My drawers shake open, wooden scraping wood and he returns with a pair of joggers and sleeveless shirt. “Here you are. Get into these and I'll see if I can at least find some bandages.”
I reach for the clothes, the question of how he's so familiar with this house and where I have everything at the tip of my tongue. Then I swallow it down when he brushes hair from my eyes. “Looks like a little got in that pretty red hair of yours too. Luckily it can be easily brushed away.” He runshis fingers through the damp strands, his lips pressed in a thin line as his eyes travel down to my groin.
My cock twitches in my underwear and I swear I hear a light grunt crawl up the back of his throat. It's so similar to…it…no. My brain keeps playing tricks on me. I'm hearing what I want to hear but there's also another side of me who needs it all to remain a mystery for a little longer. Makes it easier to imagine different scenarios, yet in all of them the man hiding in the shadows is always the same person with the same dark eyes narrowing in on me as he straightens his stance.
“Go on and get dressed and I'll be back.”
He disappears into the closest bathroom and returns with a box of Band-Aids and a bottle of disinfectant, only giving me enough time to slide my pants on. He grabs the shirt before I can, drawing it closer to me as he licks his lips, gaze falling to my pebbling nipples.
“You should put this on before you get too cold.” That sultry tone is doing all sorts of things to my insides and I stop breathing when his fingers linger on mine as I grab the shirt.
I slip it on and as I stand from the chair, a dizzy spell comes over me when I take too long to finally take a breath. My balance is wonky, my body swaying side to side and knees threatening to buckle. He wraps his arms around me, something growing hard against my thigh.
A slight moan slips from my lips and his warm breath caresses my ear. “I think you better sit back down, pretty bo.”
Bo. That name again. My heart flutters and I blink my eyes up at him. “Why, when you're doing such a good job at keeping me on my feet?”
His chest heavily lifts and falls, eyes growing darker as he slides a hand up my shirt. “I guess I do, huh? It's kind of hard to clean your cuts at this angle though and I have a lot I need to get done today.”
“Like spying on the president, hoping to reveal some dark secret?”
He laughs. “No. Errands in town and then dinner with my brother.”
“There's more of you?” My voice raises and he laughs.
“I wouldn't say that exactly but yes I do have a family just like everyone else. Why?”
“I was just…I can't picture you growing up with someone else is all. You seem so…”
“So what?”
My throat goes dry when his lips are merely inches from mine. “I…have a lot to do too.”
The corners of his lips turn up. “Yes. The farmer’s market preparation.”
“Among other things.”
“You mean like pose half naked on tractors and finger yourself on your front porch.”
A shudder runs through me. “You watch me?”
Light flashes in his eyes and his smile is devious. “How can I not when you make it easy for anyone who's nearby to see.”
“There's…not many people come out this way,” I say, stumbling on my words as his hand slides lower.
“Not that you know of. I mean anyone could easily walk up on you from anywhere. Just because you don't see them doesn't mean they aren't there.”
“Your…are you trying to tell me something?”
“I'm telling you to be careful, Patty. Careful where you touch yourself. You may give someone the impression you're inviting them to touch you too.”
Patty. No one's called me that in a long time. It was a cute nickname only my mom ever had for me. “Someone like who?”
“Someone like…” he pauses. “The mailman. A random person driving by…or a friend of your brother's you don't know about. Or someone…” His eyes snap back to mine. “Like a neighbor.” His hand reaches into my pants and underwear, cupping one of my cheeks. I roll my hips, feeling like a needy whore when one of his fingers presses to my hole.