Tanner
Bailey sings to the radio over the sound of the faucet, her hands shielded by pink rubber gloves dotted with white daisies. Rain patters the windows in the kitchen as I set a few dishes down next to the sink, smiling down at my girlfriend.
God, she’s beautiful, and I’m one lucky son-of-a-bitch to have her here.
I came home from the job site today to find her in the kitchen up to her elbows in dinner preparations. Cornbread, mashed potatoes with gravy, breaded pork chops, and creamed spinach.
I remember the first time I brought her back to my place. I’d offered to cook her dinner to try to impress her, but I only knew how to make spaghetti with sauce from a jar. So, we ate that, and steak. And the next night, at her old apartment, she made me some type of pasta dish with chicken that had me seeing stars and planning our future together.
I count my blessings everyday, and she’s always at the very top of that list.
“There’s plenty leftover if you’re still hungry.” She grins at me as she scrubs out the pans she used.
I start loading up the dishwasher. “I couldn’t eat another bite if I tried. I’ll pack the rest for lunch tomorrow.”
“What about dessert?” She winks at me, her cheeks going ruddy as she blushes.
I straighten up, closing the dishwasher before leaning against the counter. “Dessert? You know I’m not a sweets man.”
“You think I’m sweet.” She’s flirting with me, and the heated look she’s sending my way me gives me immediate tunnel vision. I take a single step toward her, gently grabbing her arm.
I slowly slide the gloves from her fingers and toss them into the sink.
“Tell me about your day, and then I’ll consider what I want for dessert,” I say, wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her close. We rock to the jazz music playing on the radio across the room.
“I told you about the Wilsons,” she teases. “What more do you want to know?”
“You seemed stressed when you got home.”
She steps away, shrugging, and turns back to the unfinished dishes.
“Don’t worry about the dishes, Bailey. I’ll do them later. Talk to me.”
“You’ll think I’m crazy.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “What’s going on?”
“I just… you know how Helen told me he fell out of a boat?”
I nod, sitting down in one of the dining chairs at the table. She sits beside me, sighing deeply.
“I saw Robert and talked to him for a minute, and he told me he didn’t break his leg on a fishing trip. He hadn’t been fishing at all. I had my suspicions, given how intense his surgery was and how much recovery time he’s looking at, but seeing his wound and reading the surgery notes…. He’s lucky to be alive.”
“How did he do it?”
“He told me was walking through the marsh and ended up in the cemetery near your job site.”
My blood runs cold. “He’s an old man. He shouldn’t have been out there alone.”
“I agree, but he knows the marsh. And he’s familiar with the Gregory property, seeing as they’ve lived next door for several decades now. He… he said he fell into a grave.”
I chuckle, surprised. “They’re no open graves. Nobody’s been buried there for a very long time, from what I know.”
“I know, that’s what makes this so weird. Even worse, he says he passed out and came to along the banks of the river, several miles away, and got picked up by some fishermen and taken to the hospital.”
I lean back in my chair and watch Bailey’s face undergo a variety of changes. She looks stressed, and I reach out and tug on her arm. “Come here.”
She glides over and straddles my lap.
“If you’re uncomfortable working there, don’t.”
“I need a job, Tanner. You know I’m saving up for my nurse practitioner program this fall.”
“I have enough money for the two of us.”
“You just want to keep me home in an apron, making you apple pie.”
“Mm… I love seeing you in an apron.” She giggles, but I’m being serious. “If you don’t want to work there, say the word. You can spend the summer studying, or doing an internship, or just hanging out. You don’t need a job as long as I’m around.”
“How did I get such a good man?” she whispers, running her fingers through my hair.
I pull her down and kiss her soundly, enjoying her weight on my lap and the way she drags her tongue over mine. I truly can’t get enough of her. I don’t think it’s possible to stop wanting her every second of every day, but lately that’s taken on new heights.
I pick her up and carry her upstairs into our bedroom, not bothering to shut the door behind us as I sit on the edge of the bed and continue the kiss.
Lately, I’ve been having daydreams about her. About her walking to me, naked, moonlight highlighting every curve and angle of her body as she leans over me, whispering the dirtiest things I’ve ever heard in my ear.
The woman in my dreams isn’t the sweet, kind Bailey I know.
It still makes me hard at awkward hours of the day, though.
I tug on her tank top straps, pulling them down over her shoulders. She’s not wearing a bra, and her breasts bounce free–full and heavy in my hands.
She pushes me back against the mattress and starts unbuttoning my shirt, and I lie there underneath her, letting her take control.
She’s like a drug to me, and I will do anything to get my next fix, but I’m gentle with her. She likes that–that quiet passion, and so do I.
Things have always been easy and natural between us. I guess this is how it’s supposed to feel when you finally meet your person.
But lately I’ve been… wanting to do other things, things I wouldn’t have thought about doing to her before.
Not hurting her exactly, but pushing some limits, seeing how far I can make her body go….
I snap out of it, feeling like I’m trapped in someone else's thoughts.
“Bailey,” I rasp against her neck before flipping her over onto her back. She giggles as she hits the mattress, and I quickly pull off her shirt and help her shimmy out of her shorts and wet panties. I run my hands down her sides, over the curve of her waist and her perfect thighs.
My mouth waters, and my cock is hard and aching against the fly of my jeans.
I let out a groan of satisfaction as she unzips my pants and tries to shove them down my hips.
“In a hurry tonight?” I whisper against her neck, nibbling the tender skin there. I love her neck. Slender, delicate. I’m obsessed with it, and I love when she wears her bounty of hair up so I can see it.
I kick off my jeans, pull my boxers down, and nudge her legs apart.
Her pussy is divine as I slide into her, feeling her muscles hugging my cock tight enough my breath catches in my throat.
She whimpers my name, her eyes fluttering closed. God, she’s an angel.
And I want her at my mercy….
I shake my head, feeling suddenly… off kilter. It’s like someone is whispering in my ear, telling me to… to take her. To lay claim to what’s mine and to forget about the repercussions.
“Oh, my god,” she moans, gripping my thighs as I rock my hips against her, her wet pussy squeezing around my cock. “Tanner–”
I thrust into her hard, and she squeaks, which makes my cock even harder, if that’s possible.
“Do that again,” she moans, and I do, slamming into her with enough force that the headboard cracks against the wall. She arches her hips and cries out.
I pull out and flip her over onto her stomach, gripping her hands and yanking her so she’s resting on her knees.
Leaning over her, I brush her hair away from her neck and plant a rough kiss to the top of her spine, my teeth grazing her skin.
I slam into her again, slapping her ass, losing the grip I had on reality in the process. I clutch her neck, my fingers tightening around her throat, and she lets out a surprised gasp that stops me in my tracks.
I slowly pull out and tease her clit with the head of my cock while testing my grip on her throat.
“Do you like that?” I ask, slowly pressing my dick inside her soaked pussy, inch by inch.
“Y-yes–” she gasps.
I tighten my grip again, loving the way she jerks and grinds her hips into mine.
Fuck, I have full control of her. I have control of her pleasure, and her very breath.
I slap her ass until her skin turns bright red, and she screams my name, her pussy spasming around my cock.
I come, hard, spilling into her, and hold myself there.
Slowly, I pull out and roll her over onto her back again, kissing her tenderly, but Bailey is giving me an odd look as I lean away.
“What?” I ask, noticing the marks on her neck and wondering… “Bailey, I’m sorry.”
She touches her neck, and I immediately feel like shit. “It’s okay. I–I liked it.”
“Are you sure?”
She nods, but there’s a strange feeling growing in my stomach, something uneasy and….
I get off the bed and pull my boxers on. “I love you,” I tell her, holding her gaze. “If I hurt you–”
“You didn’t hurt me,” she smiles, rising up and balancing her weight on her elbows. “I liked it. I like you… unleashed, sometimes.”
I smile, but deep down, I feel like shit.
“I’m going to go do those dishes now.”
“I’m gonna read for a bit.”
“All right.” I slip out of the room and curse on my way downstairs. We’ve gotten kinky, sure. I’d folded her over the bed of my truck a time or two, but choking her out?
As I round the corner of the kitchen, the radio shuts off on its own.
I look around and wonder if I’m not entirely alone right now.
“Hello?” I say to the empty kitchen.
But like usual, there’s no one there.