Erin Dameron-Hill (20 page)

I grabbed his long hair and pulled him away violently. My hands reached for his jaws and I lifted him up to standing position, smelling my musk all over his face. I smelled good. I licked my cum off his chin and savored that delicate juice for just a moment before I turned around and placed my leg on the tub wall.

I wanted him to fuck me from behind, fuck me like an animal. I heard the tell-tale sounds of ripping plastic and knew that the condom was being put on. I could still feel myself dripping and squeezing, begging for that penis to be thrust inside me.

The Hunter grabbed a handful of hair and pushed his way deep inside me. I placed my hands on the steamy wall to balance as the Hunter pumped again and again, faster and faster, slamming me against the wall, fucking me like the animal I was.

My beast howled as I screamed and for a second, the beast and I were one. We relished the insatiable lust and desire that was rolling all around us, feeding us, tempting us to come again.

The Hunter pulled out and turned me around, kissing me deeply. His long, silky hair covered my hair creating a veil of sandalwood. He grabbed my upper thigh and lifted it carefully and put himself in between me again. I had missed that member throbbing inside me and now that it had returned, I squeezed against it.

The Hunter was slower now, his eyes searching mine, his body intertwined with my own. His lips caressed my cheek, my jaw. His hands held me tightly, keeping me so close, that our hearts were mating.

My beast sat back, confused, and watched. It was almost as if my animal didn’t understand actual love-making, that the idea was as foreign to it as eating vegetables.

But my human mind rejoiced in the Hunter’s arms. He had, at first fucked me, and now he was making love to me. There is a huge difference between the two and as much as I loved the rough sex, tender sex is always more genuine, more heartfelt.

So I closed my eyes and just felt him living inside me, felt the heat of his body warm my soul, felt the love surround me.

Chapter Eighteen

The Hunter and I cuddled in the warm bath water, my head leaning against his chest. My neck would move forward whenever he breathed like a rhythmic dance. His arms enveloped my entire body with his biceps squeezing my own. He held me tightly as if he didn’t want to ever let go. And that’s fine with me, I didn’t want him to let go either. I could have stayed in the bathtub forever, watching my skin prune, just as long as the Hunter snuggled beside me.

For once in my life I wasn’t embarrassed that I had sex with a man. Usually I felt regretful, remorseful, and ashamed, afraid to even look the lover in the eye. I guess I didn’t want the person to know how much I cared for them because if I did, then they would hurt me even more.

But with Morty, I knew he cared for me in the same way that I cared for him and knowing that we love each other is the most peaceful feeling that anyone can have. I didn’t worry that he would leave me because I knew he wouldn’t. I didn’t worry that he would hurt me because I knew he wouldn’t. And I especially didn’t worry that he didn’t love me because I knew he did. Actions speak louder than words and I didn’t need to hear three words, all I needed was his arms wrapped around me. In one relaxing pose I gathered all the information I would ever need: he loved me. Plain and simple.

Words can actually cheapen moments, strip the life from a hug with just an utterance. So I didn’t need him to say anything. In fact, the silence was so beautiful that I was grateful. I had, at one point, been horrified of silence. But today, the silence was golden. I was completely at ease, completely fulfilled, completely happy.

Nothing could take that away from me.

From somewhere far, far away, a distant beeping echoed in my living room. It was high-pitched, barely audible, almost like a dog whistle except the Hunter could hear it.

He sighed loudly and stepped out of the bathtub leaving me in a chilly, watery tomb. The bath water had lost all of its heat and I was left alone. But not alone in a purely physical sense, no the Hunter was still in my home. I was just left alone in the bathtub. It was too soon to feel sorry for myself. After all, the Hunter wasn’t about to leave me. He was more than just my protector now, he was my lover.

I heard his wet footsteps trudge through my dining room and towards the couch. His hands fumbled through a jacket and finally he clicked a button.

“Hello,” he said gruffly.

I knew I shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but with super ears like mine, it’s hard not to. I’m constantly listening in to other people’s conversations because it’s so difficult not to. First of all, they talk so loudly that I’m sure they want the world to know and secondly, well, sometimes the conversation is just too juicy to ignore. Only the best gossip can be heard in a grocery store.

I sat back into the tub, placing my back on the cold porcelain. I already missed Morty’s warm chest. I wasn’t desperate or needy or clingy or anything like that, I just knew what made me feel comfortable, what made the bath feel so much more warm--Morty.

Everything always felt so much more serene and peaceful when he was around. Even rough sex. I don’t know how to explain the feeling of safety when he’s fucking me so hard my brains are coming out of my ears, I just know that I still feel protected and loved. No matter what.

I happened to catch a glimpse of myself in the chrome spicket and for the first time in a long time, I was smiling. The Hunter had that effect. I was actually smiling. I wasn’t grinning because of a funny joke or the Daily Show was on. No, I was smiling because I was genuinely happy.

It felt good to be happy.

“Damon,” said a female voice on the other end of the phone. My super hearing always catches both sides of the conversation, “It’s Shirley.”

“I know your voice, Shirley,” I heard the Hunter say with a smile. I could tell he was smiling just by the inflection of his voice. People who are unhappy tend to talk through their lower chest, making their voice deeper. But Morty was practically sing-songing. He was just as happy as I was.

Wow, I’ve used the word ‘happy’ so many times in these past few minutes than I have in my entire life. I guess I was truly…happy.

“I think you should come down here and see this,” Shirley replied a little bit curtly. She obviously wasn’t having the best day of her life. Then again, why should everyone be as happy as I am right now? The world is constantly turning, constantly full of problems. I don’t know why I was expecting those aspects of life to change.

One’s outlook on life is funny; it really does depend on how light-hearted a person is. I used to look at the world as a dark and hollow place, but now, the world seems to be a long lost friend that has made its presence known on Facebook. It feels good to be reacquainted.

“What is it, Shirley?” Morty asked, his tone changing ever so slightly to convey a sense of urgency and intrigue.

“Just something that I think you should see. It’s really interesting.”

“Shirley, spill it.”

I thought I heard her chuckle for just a moment and then the sound was gone, “Just get your ass down here, Damon.”

“Shirley,” the Hunter paused, and as the silence weighed around him, I heard his heart beat just a little bit faster, “Would you like me to pick up anything for you?”

“Yeah, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich would be fantastic. I haven’t eaten since I took your girlfriend to Taco Bell.”

“Hmm,” he muttered softly, “My what now?”

“I knew a long time before you did that you two would hook up. It was a bit obvious. I think
everybody
knows.”

“Oh, right. Where are you, Shirley?”

“I’ve activated my homing beacon, just follow the blips.”

“Do you not know?”

“Of course I know, but you never follow my directions. So just follow the blips. It’s easier than explaining every detail.”

“Sure thing. And you said you want a PB&J?”

“Yeah.”

I heard Morty pause and sigh deeply. He scratched at the back of his head and took in a large breath, like he was about to face the abyss.

“Oh, and Damon, bring some milk so that I can drink it down.”

But Shirley hates milk. I remember her specifically saying she hated milk when we first met. So why would she be asking for it?

“Sure thing. I’ll be there in a few.”

The phone clicked and I knew the conversation was over. Was he really going to ditch me so that he could bring a sandwich to his co-worker? Had I really misjudged their relationship that much?

“Sophie,” said the Hunter still nude as he stood before me in the bathroom, “I have to go.”

“I know.”

“You heard?”

“I have wolf ears, remember?”

“Yeah. I’m going to leave you, but I don’t want you to leave this house. Don’t open the windows, don’t stand in front of the windows, don’t open the doors, and especially don’t go outside.”

“Yes, Dad,” I said sarcastically. I mean, really, I think I know how to stay safe in my own home. On second thought, I don’t. If I did, I wouldn’t have been attacked in my own bedroom.

The Hunter scoffed quietly and then kneeled in front of the bathtub, “I’m serious, Sophie, keep yourself safe. Do you know how to use a .35?”

“A .35?”

“It’s a gun.”

“No, I don’t believe in guns.”

“Okay, do you have any knives around here, daggers?”

“Why would I have daggers? Didn’t they stop making them in the 15
^th
century?” I asked with a vague smile on my face.

“Sophie,” he replied completely avoiding my comical question, “Do you have any knives?”

“Yeah, some kitchen knives.”

“Keep them handy at all times.”

I stood up naked in the cold bath water and a few chills ran down my arms, lifting the tiny hairs to stand on end. I looked at the Hunter,
really
looked at the Hunter and he was afraid.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

He took a deep breath and grabbed both of my hands into his and he smiled wearily up at me. He just stared at me for a few moments and then released my hands, relinquished that calming and serene touch.

“You’re not really picking up a sandwich, are you?” I asked more fervently now that I knew something was running afoul.

He smiled at me again, tentatively, hiding those secret thoughts from view and from me.

I stepped out of the tub, splashing water onto the gray walls, slipping on the now wet white tiled floor, “Answer me, Morty. What’s going on?”

I was so nervous now and scared that I wanted to hide. It’s amazing how fast emotions can change. One second I was happy, and the next, well, I was practically peeing in my pants. I didn’t like the look that was crawling on the Hunter’s face. He was frightened and very worried. A few frown lines were etched on that perfectly sculpted face ruining the mask of confidence that he constantly wore. What would have him so scared? What could possibly frighten a Hunter?

And with those questions, I should be very afraid. Hunter’s are never frightened. They never falter. They never fret. They are always in control, always at the ready.

Morty was not. Instead, he was naked in my bathroom with beads of water trailing down his chest. He was not prepared.

“Answer me,” I said again, grabbing his broad shoulders and shaking him just a bit.

“Don’t worry, baby,” he said gently pulling me into a giant bear hug, “Just keep yourself safe.”

He released me and instead of holding me, he reached for his blood-stained pants and slid them on.

I was trying to grasp some piece of normalcy so I asked, “No underwear?”

“They’re too dirty to wear. Have you ever noticed that jeans rarely get dirty? But underwear and t-shirts do?”

“No, I wash everything.”

He nodded and threw on the grime-encrusted white T-shirt and instead of smelling like the rose-perfumed bath water, he now reeked of rotting swamp and decaying blood.

I should be accustomed to those smells, hell, I should love those smells. But just because I have a beast curled up inside me, doesn’t mean that my human side has to like rotting scents.

So I crinkled my nose.

The time of beautiful scents and of peaceful cuddling was over. It was time to get back to work.

“Morty, please…” I began.

“No,” he said shaking his head and pulled me once again into that loving embrace, “Keep yourself safe.”

He kissed me on the forehead and left me alone in the bathroom.

In the thumping silence I heard his vehicle start up and drive away.

That beautiful silence was gone. It had disappeared with the Hunter and had left me with only myself as a companion. They had both abandoned me to stare horrified into the stuffy air and breathe in remnants of anxiety and loss.

I was left alone to wonder if I would ever see the Hunter again. I didn’t like the look of fear that he wore and I knew he was about to face something deadly. What he was facing, I know not. But the butterflies in my stomach were prancing so frantically that I knew the outcome would be the makings of a nightmare.