Lost Wanderer Awakened - Book One of the Airendell Chronicles (3 page)

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The Dream

I am doing some kind of exercise regime, like
Tai Chi, Tae Kwon Do or something along that line. My body feels
strong and my movements are sure and poised as I move through the
routine. I am focused on each movement when strong arms grab me
from behind and drag me to the thick grass below the massive oak
tree.

I giggle and twist around in his arms. I
capture his lips for a deep, soul wrenching kiss. My center is
throbbing already with need. “You are wearing far too many clothes,
lover,” I purr seductively.

I giggle again as he reaches down and whips
off my simple sheath dress before removing his own old fashioned
tunic and leggings. “Better?” he asks with a raised eyebrow and
knowing smirk. I know he is just as impatient to be naked and join
our bodies as I am.

“Much, much better. Now come here!”

He complies and captures my lips and moans
happily when I wrap my eager fingers around his long, thick and
very hard cock. “I have been missing you all day,” I murmur.

He chuckles. “You are the one who sent me on
patrol.”

I nod, “Duty always comes first.”

“I know, beloved. I happily serve. But now I
want to enjoy you.”

I laugh wickedly as I push him onto his back
and trail kisses down his hard body, savoring his taste and feel.
“Good! I want to finish what you interrupted last night.” I quickly
move to take his thick cock into my ready mouth. Pushing against
his length to swallow as much of his hard length as I can, sucking
hard and moaning as I move my mouth back to the tip. Where I tease
the head with my tongue. Savoring his slick essence that oozes out
because of my efforts.

“Fuck! Baby, you drive me crazy when you do
that!” His voice is a low growl that makes me even hotter.

I giggle. “Good!” And then I take him into my
hungry mouth again, making several enthusiastic passes, sucking
hard and teasing his sensitive flesh with my tongue. I love doing
this and I am pushing hard to make him come because I know he’s
going to interrupt me before I can finish. He always does.

He grabs me under my arms and effortlessly
lifts me up and away from his cock. “Enough, beloved,” he growls
with obvious amusement and a bit of frustration.

I chuckle and move to straddle his hips. “One
day you will let me finish,” I smirk. I reach down to guide his
hard shaft into my eager core. We both moan as I slowly lower
myself onto his length. He fills me, stretches me completely and it
is the best feeling in the world. I moan carnally as I savor the
fullness and the salacious look on his face.

“Fuck, baby! You are so hot and wet,” he
growls, making me feel even wilder.

I lean down and kiss him deeply. Savoring the
way his tongue possesses my mouth, reveling in the feel of his
strong hands gripping my hips hard as he thrusts even deeper inside
of me as I slowly begin to move up and down on his hard cock.

I break off the kiss and purr; “Of course I
am hot and wet. I have been wanting to ride your glorious shaft all
day.” I lean down and kiss him again. “I want to fuck you hard
until we come hard and you yell my name so loudly they hear you in
the village.”

He sits up and takes my face into his hands.
His eyes express his disquiet. “Beloved, I love you, adore you. We
don’t fuck, we make love.”

I giggle. “No, no lover! You make me wild and
wanton. I want to fuck you like a wild thing.” I rock my hips
forward to prove my point as I bite his shoulder, none too
gently.

I see the hurt in his eyes, not from my bite
but from my words. I kiss his lips tenderly. “Lover, whether we
fuck wildly or tenderly treasure each other’s bodies, it’s always
making love. Because that’s all we can do. It’s what we are;
lovers, eternal mates.” He nods and smiles so I giggle and say;
“But I am still going to fuck your brains out and make you roar my
name.”

He growls and lowers his head to capture one
of my nipples with his hot mouth as his hands grip my hips hard,
digging into my flesh as I ride him wildly. I moan and clasp his
head lovingly as he suckles hard, alternating between my breasts.
He reaches behind me and kneads my ass, helping me take his shaft
deep inside of me with every stroke.

“Come for me, baby,” he demands against my
lips. He chuckles as I scream his name when the orgasm he gives me
rips through by body making me feel joyful, crazed and utterly
feral.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

When I awaken from the dream I am actually
panting and I can feel my sex quivering, throbbing even. I easily
recognize the aftereffects of an orgasm even though I haven’t had
one in years, far too many years to contemplate. I am momentarily
grateful that I don’t have a roommate because I talk in my sleep
and I can only imagine what I said as I dreamt about riding the
beautiful P.T. student.

What the hell was that about?

I feel shame wash over me that I am having
strange sex dreams about a much younger man that I just met. “You
don’t deserve to dream about sexy young men!” I chide myself
softly. My loss again washes over me and I curl up into as tight of
a ball as my damaged body will allow.

It takes hours but I finally drift back off
to sleep with fresh tears on my cheeks. Right before I totally lose
awareness I imagine gentle, loving hands caressing my back and a
tender kiss on my forehead. A smile curls my lips slightly because
I know I am loved and protected.

5 Months Post Crash

I can get out of the bed and get around now
without any help. Last week I got to stop using the stupid walker.
Now I can get around with a cane. I am still slow, and it hurts
like hell, but I can move. I have been riding Bald Doctor to let me
out of the rehab ward he has me on… but he’s dragging his feet. I
am considering checking myself out AMA, against medical advice,
because I have a new roommate. And she’s driving me crazy.

All she does all day long is whine about how
her kids never come see her. “At least your children are alive!” I
want to scream at her, but I don’t say a word. That would be
impolite. Whiney Roommate complains that the P.T. girl is too rough
with her, the food is bland and always cold and the nurses are so
slow. I am so close to telling her what I think of her attitude,
but it’s none of my business, so I keep my mouth shut.

My bed is the one nearest to the door and I
like to keep the door open so I can hear and see the activity in
the hall. I am glad I can get up and walk up and down that dreary
tan corridor now. But they won’t let me do it unless I have a nurse
with me. They put that belt around my waist and a nurse hangs on to
it for support as I walk. But I get up and walk to the bathroom all
the time without a nurse.

I don’t need the damned help. I don’t want
the damned help.

A soft knock on the open door draws me out of
my musings. In the doorway is a young man, maybe twenty-five or so.
That’s probably a stretch. He looks so youthful, sweet and
gorgeous. “Mrs. Montfort?” I nod and he asks, “May I come in?” I
nod again.

He comes to me and offers his hand to shake.
He has a nice firm grip and pretty green eyes. His sandy brown hair
and those eyes remind me of Kyle. My heart contracts painfully and
I push that thought from my mind.

“Are you another damned social worker?
Because if you are, you are wasting your time. I am not going into
a nursing home and I don‘t need a counselor. I just need to leave
this place. I could leave right now if Bald Doctor would just get
off of his hands and stop worrying about whether or not I will sue
him.”

The young man chuckles. He looks genuinely
amused and not overly surprised by my attitude. “No, Mrs. Montfort,
I am not a social worker. I am an attorney. My name is Carlisle
Brennan.” I raise an eyebrow at that. Not that he’s an attorney,
but at his name. Why is that so familiar? “I was hired on your
behalf. I have secured a settlement from the trucking company for
two million dollars.”

“That’s blood money. I don’t want it.” I look
away from my visitor, my mouth set hard reflecting my stubborn
state of mind.

“Mrs. Montfort, I can understand why you feel
that way, but we both know it will be a very long time before you
can support yourself again. I understand that you are making great
strides in your recovery, but you still have a long ways to go. And
your medical bills are astronomical and will certainly exceed what
the state insurance from your teaching job will cover. Accept the
money, pay those bills, and use the rest to get yourself back on
your feet.”

I nod and thank the kid for his time. After
he’s gone I take a few minutes to look at the information in the
manila folder he gave me. Well, this could be my ticket out of
here. When Bald Doctor comes this afternoon, I will ask him to
release me, if he refuses I will just go, AMA. I sigh and put the
folder from the lawyer with the folder Jan gave me in the drawer of
the bedside table.

I look up at the photos of my kids. Jan
brought them to me from my desk at school. She packed everything
else up from my classroom, my personal items anyway. They are in
the cabinet where a patient’s personal effects are stored. I
haven’t even bothered to look through it. I don’t care if she
packed all of my stuff. I only really wanted the pictures.

Kyle is my oldest. He’s fourteen. Tall for
his age, slender in that gawky way of early adolescence. He has
sandy brown hair that is wavy and usually too long. But I don’t
ride him about keeping it cut, it’s his hair. His bearing reminds
me lot of his Dad, but he has my green eyes. All of my babies got
my eyes. I miss my first born.

Next is Aiden. He’s ten. The delivery was
botched by a doped up doctor on call when he was born. My Aiden has
cerebral palsy and seizure disorder. He’s the toughest, smartest
little man I know. Looks can be deceiving; he’s so tiny and frail
looking that folks always underestimate him. Not me, he won’t let
me. He works hard to keep from losing any more strength. He tries
to talk, but he just can’t do it. But we have worked out a system.
I ask him yes or no questions. If he looks at my right hand the
answer is yes, if he looks at my left, the answer is no. It works
for us. He’s so damned sweet and funny too. He too reminds me of
Rolan, except he too has my eyes. I miss my tough little man.

Finally, there is the little tyrant. I
chuckle to myself, she’s not really a tyrant. But she’s tough. She
knows her own mind, and apparently everyone else’s too. She’s only
six, but nothing ever surprises my little girl. She has my red
hair, well not exactly. Her hair is much darker red than mine. Mine
is more a washed out strawberry blond, but Nora’s hair is
brilliant, fiery red and beautiful. She has the sweetest little
heart-shaped face and upturned nose. She always reminds me of
someone, but I can’t ever remember who. She too has my bright green
eyes.

Had. Shit! I was doing it again. I always
think of my kids in the present tense. The pain in the ass
therapist that the hospital sends around twice a month keeps
telling me I should accept that my children are gone and start
using the past tense when I speak of them. I would like to smack
her in her smug little face when she says things like that. But, of
course, I won’t do any such thing. I just nod and wait impatiently
for her to leave my room.

When Bald Doctor comes around he’s singing
the same old tune. “Mrs. Montfort, you must be patient. You are
making remarkable progress….” Blah, blah, blah. I just nod and keep
my own counsel.

After Bald Doctor leaves I get up to take a
shower. Seth will be here soon. I put on the sweats that he brought
me as a birthday present. I wish he hadn’t done that, but I really
appreciated it. The nurses would let me wear surgical scrubs for
P.T., but most of the time I wear those lovely hospital gowns or
pajamas. I couldn’t ask Jan to go buy any sweats or nightgowns or
panties for me. I don’t know where my purse is. And there is no way
in hell I was going to let Jan or anyone else go into our home
while I am not there.

Poor Jan, she tried really hard to be a good
friend to me. But I just couldn’t let her do it. I pushed her away.
She still calls now and again to check in and ask if I need
anything. But I try to keep the calls short. I am glad she doesn’t
come by any more. I couldn’t stand to see the pity in her eyes.
That’s why I keep her phone calls short, she means well, but I can
still hear the pity in her voice…

Seth is pleased that I am dressed and sitting
in the chair waiting for him when he arrives, right on time, as
usual. “Looking good, Dee!” Seth smiles. “You ready to rock?”

“Always, kiddo.” I smile at Lucian, my P.T.’s
sometime shadow. He shows up with Seth several times a month, and
usually doesn’t say anything beyond the polite pleasantries. But he
watches me so intently! I know that those odd, beautiful eyes don’t
miss a thing. I feel like he knows everything about me. That he
sees right through my façade. He knows I am just biding my time,
waiting until I can get out of here and just disappear.

Jeez, Dee you have way too much time on your
hands! Your imagination is becoming quite fanciful.

“Hey Dee, how you been?” Lucian asks with an
interested smile on his face.

I can’t help it I blush every time he speaks
to me because I am still having strange but hot sex dreams about
him. “I am good, Lucian. I am going home tonight.”

“What?” Asks Seth, surprise evident in his
voice and on his face. “That’s not in your chart.”

“Because it’s my decision, not Bald
Doctor’s.” Seth chuckles at my use of my nickname for Dr.
Fortenberry. I look Seth squarely in the eyes. I can see he knows
there is no point in arguing with me. He just nods and reaches into
his back pocket and pulls out one of those little leather business
card holders. “I probably shouldn’t be doing this. Look Dee, if you
leave AMA, the insurance company may not cover anything from here
on out.” He gives me a minute to absorb this and quickly realizes
that this has already occurred to me.