On the Run p. 34

Boss had brought her suitcase of clothing, and Tucker went to deliver it upstairs.  When he heard the shower and saw she wasn’t in the bedroom, he knew there was only one other place she could be.  He could hear her quietly humming an unfamiliar tune, and he turned that way and knocked gently on the bathroom door.

No response, so he opened the unlocked door and peeked inside.  After all, he had seen her naked already.  As his eyes adjusted to the fog of the humid air, he saw her form.  There she was, behind the glass, in all her beauty, swaying to a beat only she could hear.

He cleared his throat, attempting some form of honor, and she startled.  “Uhm, hi.” He said, his eyes loving this view, as if an angel had stepped out of the clouds.

“Boss brought your suitcase.  I have some clothes for when you’re finished.”

“Oh, ok.  Thank you,” she said, her voice hanging in the air as if to ask him something, but she never went any further.

“I’ll just be leaving it here, unless you need anything?”

A moment of silence.  He was regretting his decision to intrude when he heard her say, “Just you….” her voice barely a whisper. This surprised him.  Despite the situation, despite the stress and the sleepless  night, she still desired him as much as he desired her.  “Do you need a shower?  It’s big enough for two….” her sultry voice beckoned him.

He had never brought a lady to his cabin before, and he was so thankful that Ann was his first.  She was his first in many regards, but the first lady to take a shower in his bathroom was worth the wait.  He undressed, locked the door, and headed to the shower.  He stepped in, the tile warm and slippery on his feet as he walked over to her.  She smiled and squeezed an extra plentiful amount of body wash on her hands and started a lather.  He turned and gave her his back, and she gently washed him, lingering over some of the areas where the scars still protruded or were still discolored.

“Do you ever talk about it?” she asked.


“Do you ever want to?”


“Do you remember this scar?” she continued.


She continued down his back, “how about this one?”


“and this one?”

“Yes, that one, too,” the pain of the memories stung, but her soft, gentle touch on his skin quickly brought him back into the moment, into the here and now and not the horrific memories.

Without pressing for more information, she just bent over and kissed his scars, tenderly, one at a time, as if conveying some sort of sympathy she couldn’t ever verbalize as clearly as show.  “I’m so sorry this happened to you” she said.

He didn’t know what to say.  It’s not something he ever felt the need to talk about, and he certainly didn’t want to scar her with the stories behind them.  The tender act of her kisses made him feel vulnerable, and he could only imagine it was for the same reasons that she kept her stories to herself, too.

In time, if she wanted to, he would be glad to know, out of pure curiosity.  But if she didn’t want to relive the stories, he wasn’t going to force her too, either.

She then turned him around to his front and she washed him, starting with his tippy toes and working all the way up to his head, and then she kissed him.  A kiss of understanding, again conveying more in a single act than an hour worth of conversation, sealing the bond between them.  This opened his heart to near oblivion, and one kiss led to the next which lead to a tender lovemaking he had never experienced before.  Each of their bodies told their own stories without words.  Each physical movement expressed a gratitude and compassion, not only for each others’ bodies, but for their history, their story, those vulnerable webs that make up who we are.

He lifted her to his waist and balanced her against the wall.  He took her with all his heart, expressing his love for her with his thrusts, watching her expressions, giving more quickly when she needed it, slowing at other times to draw out the pleasure, and they both came together in a tangle of bodies and heart.

When he set her languid body back down, he continued his expression of love by washing her, inch by inch, until she was clean as whistle.  He again toweled her off, enjoying the fresh glow of love making splashed across her body as she wrapped herself in the plush towel.  He took a peek in the hallway and assured her the coast was clear.  Her sexy as sin body dashed to the master bedroom and quickly shut the door behind her.

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