A Heart for Rebel (10 page)

I
MUST BE going nuts, but these feelings for Rebel
won’t be stopped. She's the perfect fit for me. I never would have imagined
that a mere glimpse of a girl on a crowded train would change my world. I
honestly thought I would never see her again. No one knew how to find her. For
god sakes, she didn’t even own a cellphone and now here she is, in my place. I
spent the whole day with her. Now, she’s going to spend the night in my arms
and in my bed. I want to be her favorite hello and her hardest goodbye. When I
first saw her I was afraid to get involved, but then she walked into my shop
and I wanted to kiss her. Then when I first kissed her I was afraid to love
her, but now that I love her I’m afraid to lose her. She is a breath of fresh
air and she is quickly filling a void in my life. I feel complete with her. I’m
a firm believer that things in life happen for a reason and for some
inexplicable reason she crashed into my world and into my heart. It was pretty
late, but all I could think about was being buried deep inside her sweet pussy.
I grabbed her hand and led her up the stairs to my bedroom. She stripped down
to her very bare and very see through underwear. My cock was already hard, but
seeing her skimpy panties, had me so hard I thought my dick would break through
my pants.

“Fuck me, but
you’re incredibly hot,” I groaned. I took a step towards her and reached for
her tits. They were more than a handful and I pinched her nipples until she
gasped. I pulled the cups down and took both nipples into my mouth, sucking
them in before biting them hard. She grabbed my hair tight and said, “Harder.” I
couldn’t get enough of her…her sweetness…her essence. I had to taste all of
her. I used one hand and unclasped her bra and slowly eased the straps down her
arms until it silently filtered to the floor. I licked and kissed my way down
her body. I licked her belly button and kissed her stomach. I licked inside her
inner thighs and ripped her panties off. I continued to lick and tease her
inner thighs until she tried shifting her body over so I could lick her wet
lips. I shifted my head and continued to lick down her legs until I reached her
calf and gently nipped them with my teeth. She was trembling and highly
aroused. When she couldn’t take the teasing anymore I lifted her left leg and
placed it over my shoulder. I sank my tongue deep into her wet pussy lips and
lapped up her juices. She nearly exploded in my mouth. I felt her whole body
quiver. I licked and nipped on her clit, over and over until she was at the
edge of her release. She grabbed the back of my head and pushed it deeper into
her wet folds. My knees were hurting from kneeling, so I lifted her up with my
face still planted in her pussy. She wrapped both her legs around my head and I
grabbed her ass to keep her steady. I continued my assault on her on her clit
and placed her on the bed. She moaned and screamed, “Fuck, yes! Wyatt, so
good!” I kept tormenting her with my tongue until she erupted and screamed,
“Yes, fuck, yes!” I happily and greedily slurped on her honey juices.

I quickly took off
my clothes and I inched my way up her body and slid my dick slowly inside her. I
pulled out and rubbed the tip of my cock on her clit, making her moan, “Jesus,
oh god!” I kept on teasing her with my cock, inching a little inside, then
pulling out and rubbing the tip on her clit. When she couldn’t take the teasing
anymore I plunged balls deep inside her. I grabbed the head board of my bed and
pounded into her like there was no tomorrow, but just as I was getting into the
rhythm of fucking her, she flipped me off her and climbed on top of me. She
grinded down on my shaft. The combination of her hips pumping and her tight
pussy just about sent me shooting deep inside her. I grabbed her ass and helped
her move faster and harder on top of me until one last deep plunge upwards into
her I came inside her. We both had difficulty catching our breaths. She was
covered in a sheen of sweat making her body extremely sexy. I gathered her in
my arms and kissed her lips, “Fuck, I love you.”

“Wow, that was…”
she said.

“Incredible,” I
said, finishing her sentence. She stretched her arms above her head and arched
her back making me hard again.

She yawned and
said, “I’m so sleepy.” All thoughts of thrusting deep inside her again was put
on hold.

I kissed her
forehead, pulled her closer and said, “Let’s get some sleep.” Her eyes
fluttered closed and she quickly fell into a peaceful sleep. I wanted to follow
her, but wanted to savor the moment and look at her. I don’t know how long I
watched her sleep before I drifted off.

I woke up before
her. I showered and changed before heading downstairs to start a pot of coffee.
I went back to wake her up, but she was already up and showering. I went into
the bathroom and ogled her naked ass as she washed. God, she’s beautiful.

“Good morning,
beautiful. I have a pot of coffee brewing,” I said.

“Good morning,
Wyatt,” she said. I watched her bathe for a few more minutes before heading out
the door.

“I’ll get a cup
ready for you,” I said.

“Okay, thanks. I’ll
be down once I’m finished,” she said. I went downstairs and made us each a cup
of coffee. I sat on the counter and waited patiently for her. When she finally
came into the kitchen she was wearing a white buttoned down shirt, a beige
pencil skirt and fuck-me-stiletto’s. I wanted to lift up her skirt, bend her
over the counter and fuck that sweet pussy again. She walked towards me and
positioned herself in between my legs. She placed her arms around my neck and
kissed me. I could get used to kissing her every morning and apparently my dick
agreed.

“I want to bend you
over this counter and fuck you so bad,” I said.

“I would like for
you to bend me over this counter and fuck me, but unfortunately I have to get
to work,” she said.

“Damn, you sure
know how to ruin a good morning fantasy,” I playfully said.

“I’m sure I can
make it up to you somehow,” she said.

“Damn straight, you
will make it up to me,” I said. She winked at me and reached for her cup of
coffee. After we drank our coffees, we placed our cups in the sink. She grabbed
her overnight bag. I grabbed her hand and keys. I opened my door and notice a
note tapped to it.

Dear
neighbor,

Last
night I believe I could hear you and your girlfriend having sex.

Would
you mind being louder next time?

It
was hard for me to masturbate while holding a cup against the wall!

Sarcastically,

Your
neighbor.

Rebel’s cheeks
turned a nice shade of deep red before laughing. At first I was fucking livid
that my damn neighbor was whacking off to Rebel’s moans of ecstasy, but then I
thought fuck it. He could listen and fantasize all he wants. Rebel was mine and
before long I was laughing with her. We walked to the subway together, but
hopped on separate trains. She worked on the west side. I kissed her goodbye
with promises of calling her.

I
BARELY MADE it to work on time. Each time I tried to
turn to head towards my train, Wyatt would pull me back for a "I want to
take you home and fuck you" kiss. Not that I wouldn't have minded, but I
really needed this job. I had no idea how I was going to function at work today
when my mind was consumed with thoughts of him and the way he fucked me raw
last night. I don’t think I was ever as vocal as I was last night. I was loud,
so loud that his neighbor left a note. At first I was embarrassed, but then I
found it highly amusing. When I made it to my desk, my boss, Linda was waiting
for me.

“Good morning,
Rebel,” she said.

“Good morning,
Linda. I hope I’m not late,” I said.

“No, you’re right
on time. I just wanted to give you a heads up. I have an old friend that moved
into town and I’ve agreed to showcase some of his work,” she said.

“Would I know the
name of the artist?” I asked.

“I’m not sure. He’s
not that well known. Have you ever heard of the name of Oswald Stone?” she
asked.

“No, I don’t think
I’ve ever heard of him,” I replied.

“I didn’t think so.
I need you to show him around and explain the type of events we do for our
artists,” she said.

“Sure, I can do
that,” I said. She knows I love talking about art and know every story about
every single piece of art we have showcasing at the moment. A tall guy came
strolling towards us. He was broad shouldered with shoulder length brown hair
and the greenest eyes I’ve ever seen. He was gorgeous. He walked up to Linda
and picked her up in a great big bear hug.

“God, it’s good to
see you, Linda,” he said. His voice was deep and oh so sexy.

“Oz, it’s good to
see you. Did you just get in to town?” she asked.

“No, why?” he
asked.

“You, my friend
look tired. Didn’t you get enough sleep last night or are you suffering from
jet lag?” she asked.

“I didn’t get
enough sleep. My neighbor and his girlfriend kept me up late with all the
moaning and groaning they did. The girl was a screamer,” he said. I think my
heart dropped down to my feet. Maybe it was a coincidence, but I’m pretty sure
this is Wyatt’s neighbor. Damn! I averted my eyes from looking at him as if he
knew it was me, the screamer from next door.

“Oz, meet my
assistant, Rebel. She will be showing you around the place today,” she said. He
finally looked my way and licked his lips.

“It’s a pleasure to
meet you Rebel. I’ve heard a lot of nice things about you,” he said.

“The pleasure is
all mine, Mr. Stone,” I said.

“Please call me Oz.
All my friends do. I’m sure you and I are going to be great friends,” he said.

“Alright, I’ll
leave you two alone to get acquainted. Rebel is a good tour guide and an avid
art aficionado,” Linda said. I grinned at my boss, and turned my attention to
Mr. Stone.

“Right this way,
Mr. Stonewall,” I said.

“Oz, please,” he
said. I led him to the showroom and proceeded to tell him about the gallery.

“Linda’s Gallery of
Artists, is an eclectic contemporary fine art gallery. Artists shown are local
and national, emerging and world renowned. Paintings, watercolors, mixed media,
prints, photographs, sculpture and jewelry are shown in theme-based shows which
change every six weeks from September to June. Our specialties are narrative
figuration and Asian inspired landscapes. What category of art do you fall
under?” I asked.

“I’m more into
photographs, but I recently discovered that I could love mixed media as well. I’m
a visual artist,” he said.

“Well, then this is
the place for you. The Gallery showcases the finest in contemporary painting,
drawing, sculpture, printmaking, photography and handmade jewelry. During its
first season, approximately seventy percent of the artists who have exhibited here
live and work in the tri-state area,” I said.

“Are you perhaps an
artist, Rebel?” he asked.

“I dabble a little
bit in the arts,” I said.

“What area of art?”
he asked.

“I have a wide
range of art interest. It’s very eclectic. I can do paintings, watercolors, mix
media, and sketches, just to name a few,” I replied.

“Really? You strike
me as a very, very vocal artist,” he whispered in my ear. My heart rate picked
up and my palms were getting sweaty. Oh my fucking god. Of course, he’s the
neighbor and he knows it was me, the screamer from apartment 18. If I could
have any wish in the world, I would wish for the floor to open up and swallow
me whole.

"Let me guess,
you're sarcastic guy in 17," I said.

He laughed before
saying, "Yeah, I'm that guy."

"I'm so sorry
for keeping you up. I'm embarrassed you heard that," I said.

"Please don't
apologize. I really enjoyed hearing you in the throes of passion. I was quite
jealous that I wasn't the one making you scream that way. I envisioned what you
would look like. I have to say my fantasy didn't live up to the reality. You
are breathtaking. You have the most gorgeous eyes I've ever seen and now that
I've met you my jealousy is even greater. Your boyfriend is a lucky
bastard," he said.

“Umm…thanks I
think,” I said. He may be a hot guy, but he was an arrogant prick. I continued
the tour and tried to keep our conversations gallery related. Unfortunately, Oz
wanted to continue to discuss my amorous vocal cords and my eyes.

“Rebel, has anyone
ever told you that your eyes are beautiful? The color is magnificent,” he said.

“Can you please
refrain from discussing my eyes and sex life? It’s making me uncomfortable,” I
said. This guy seriously had diarrhea of the mouth. My dislike of him grew to
mammoth proportions. He didn’t know when to shut the fuck up. I’m sure he could
tell I was uncomfortable with the conversation because I kept trying to change
the topic.

“I’m sorry, Rebel. I
didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable. I was only complementing a live
work of art,” he said.

“In case you
haven’t noticed I am not a live work of art. I am a human being, for god’s
sake,” I snarled. He was seriously getting on my last nerve. I admit the guy was
hot, but he had nothing on Wyatt. We came across one of my paintings. I didn’t
want it showcased, but Linda loved the realism of it and had to have it. I had
painted my mother. She was in the process of smoking crack. You could see the
desire and desperation in her face. She was sitting in a tattered chair. She
was completely alone. The room seemed black, damp and cold. The carpet in the
room was trodden and the color was indistinguishable. There was a silver foil
on her lap that glistened like a diamond. The walls were a dingy yellow,
symbolizing the loss of hope. Her eyes were empty and hollow. Her clothes were
worn and tattered. The smoke filtering up from her mouth accumulated in the
ceiling. In the smoke you could see reflections of her past before her
addiction.

Oz eyed the
painting closely. He was silent as he took it in. He turned to me and said,
“This is the best work of art I’ve seen in a long time. Who’s the artist?”

“It’s a local
artist, unknown and undiscovered yet. RW, I believe is the painter’s initials,”
I replied.

“Well, whoever the
painter is he’s real good. The way he captured the realism of drowning in life
due to the complexity of letting drugs take hold and drag you down into a pool
of despair,” he said.

Oz was too close
for comfort leaving me no choice but to take a step backwards. He lifted his
hand and touched his fingers to my cheek, "So beautiful."

I admit the guy was
gorgeous, but I wasn't attracted to him. I didn't feel the all-consuming pull I
feel when I'm near Wyatt. He gives me strength. The minute I met him, he jumped
started my life. He came into my life when I was in my darkest moment and gave
me light and in his arms is where I want to be.

"Please don't
touch me. It makes me uncomfortable and if we are going to be working closely
together then you have to respect my boundaries," I said.

"I'm sorry,
Rebel, but there's something about you. I really don't know what it is, but
what I do know is I want to know more," he whispered.

"I'm sorry,
but...," I didn't get to finish my sentence because Linda appeared at that
moment.

"Rebel, your
friend, Marissa is waiting for you at your desk," she said. I had
completely forgotten Marissa and I were having a girl's lunch date.

"Thank you,
Linda. I'll see you when I return from lunch,” I said. I turned and headed to
my desk, where I found Marissa patiently waiting for me.

“Hey Reby, you
ready for lunch?” she asked.

“I’m so ready to
get out of here, you have no idea,” I replied. Marissa looked at me and
shrugged her shoulders silently asking what was wrong. I nodded my head towards
the door as an answer. I knew she would get the hint that I would tell her what
had me wound up.

We hit the nearest
fast food place a block away from my job. We both ordered burgers and fries.

“What’s going on?”
she asked.

“Oh, no missy,
first you need to tell me how you ended up with Ty. I thought you were seeing
Joey,” I said.

“Alright, I will
tell you, but then you need to spill, sista,” she said.

“Don’t I always
tell you everything?” I asked.

“True,” she said.

“Get to it. I’m
dying here,” I playfully said.

“Alright, . You
remember the night we first went to the Lounge?” she asked. As if I could
forget that night. That night is imbedded in my head because that was the night
I slept with Wyatt.

“Yes, I remember,”
I replied.

“Well, after you
left, Joey said he had to use the restroom. I sat at a booth waiting for him,
but after twenty minutes he never returned. I went looking for him, but I
couldn’t find him. At this point I had to use the bathroom myself. I went into
the bathroom and one of the stalls was occupied by a couple and you could tell
the girl was giving head. I ignored them because you know “to each his own,”
and all that jazz. I was finishing up my business when I heard the guy moan and
say “Fuck that feels good.” I knew that voice. I climbed the toilet and peered
over and low and behold it was Joey getting head from a blonde bimbo. He had
his head down tucked into his chest, so I grabbed his hair and bashed it
against the stall’s wall,” she said. Marissa had a knack for telling stories. She
would get into character and mimic feelings. We both giggled when two guys at a
table across from us groaned and looked at us as if we were part of the menu.