Category: Flash Fic Friday

I gave a bit of a yelp when the soggy tennis ball landed in my lap.   The drool that had been soaking the felt started seeping into my pants.  I looked up, shocked, to see a huge white dog sitting in front me me, it’s mouth stretched in a wide grin, a pink tongue lolling out the side as it panted.  I cast my gaze around the immediate area, trying to see if I could discern to whom the dog belonged.  But it didn’t appear that anyone else had intruded on the quite corner of the park where I had chosen to have my lunch.

I stared at the dog.  It stared back.  I gingerly picked up the ball.  The dog bounced to all fours, it’s entire body practically vibrating with anticipation.  I couldn’t quite suppress the smile that threatened my mouth as I levered my arm back and threw the ball as hard and as far as I could.  The dog took off, a blur of white, chasing after it’s toy.  I shook my head, a little amused, and picked up my book again.  It hardly seemed like any time had passed before the ball once again landed with a soggy plop in my lap.  This time, I didn’t hesitate.  I threw the ball.

When the ball appeared a third time, I marked the page, shut my book with a quiet snap, and resigned myself to playing fetch with the animal until it’s owner showed up or the dog failed to return.

“Artemis!”

The panicked shout broke the quiet.  Birds in a nearby tree squawked and took off.  I’d been lost in the quiet rhythm of the act of fetch and it startled me too.  I looked up as a man jogged closer.

“Artemis!  Where are you, boy?”

The dog had been returning with the ball for about the twentieth time when it heard the shout.  It dropped the ball in my lap but instead of waiting for me to throw it again, it took off toward the man at a breakneck speed.  Even at a distance, I could see the relief in the man’s features as he dropped to one knee to receive the dog.  I chuckled, picked up the ball and my now empty lunch sack, and ambled over.

“I believe this belongs to you?” I said softly, holding out the ball.

The man started as if I’d surprised him.  He took the ball and looked down at the dog, “Artemis, you silly boy.  You’re not supposed to interrupt other people just to play fetch.”  The man clipped the leash that was dangling off his wrist onto the dog’s collar and stood up.

“I’m sorry about this,” he said, his face turning slightly pink.  “He usually doesn’t run away from me when we’re playing but every once in a while–”

I held up my hand, cutting him off.  “It’s no problem, really.  I enjoyed Artemis’s company.”

“Still,” the man said, with a shake of his head.  His smile was a little chagrinned.  He held out his hand.  “I’m Brandon, by the way.  This lump of fur is Artemis.”

“Mark,” I responded, shaking the proffered hand.  Brandon sucked in a breath when our skin met and I knew he felt that jolt of electricity too.  I let my hand linger in his bigger one, not wanting to pull away.  He was so warm.  His smile was brilliant.  I wanted to thank Artemis for his antics, because it allowed me to have this moment with a pretty man.

“Well, Mark,” Brandon said slowly, his gaze traveling up and down my body.  I imagined I could feel it like a touch.  “Can we make it up to you?  Maybe with coffee at kiosk over there?”

I barely suppressed the happy dance I wanted to do.  He wanted to prolong our time together.  I was so on board with that.  I had to take a second before I answered so that I was sure my voice would be steady.  “Thanks.  That’d be nice.”

We started to walk in that direction, silence falling between us.  I didn’t know what to say.  It wasn’t often that I gained the attention of a good looking guy.  Nerves made my tongue thick.  I cleared my throat and cast my mind for something, anything, to say.

Before I could, Artemis lunged in front of me, then dashed behind, effectively winding his leash around my knees and causing me to crash into Brandon.  Only some fancy footwork on his part kept us both from tumbling to the ground.  I turned beat red, embarrassed even though it wasn’t my fault.  Brandon let out a soft chuckle, untangled us, and made sure I was standing.

“You okay?” Brandon asked.  I nodded and willed the blush to leave my cheeks.

Brandon looked down at the dog that was now sitting patiently by his side.  “Are you trying to tell me something?”

The dog gave one bark and appeared to be smiling again.  Brandon shook his head.  When he turned to look at me, his gaze heated.  “Artemis likes you.  I happen to know he’s an excellent judge of character.  After we get coffee, you maybe want to meet me for dinner?  I promise to leave the meddling dog at home.”

He was asking me out?  That never happened to me.  It seemed too good to be true.   A hundred responses ran through my head but what came out of my mouth was, “Far be it for me to ignore the matchmaking abilities of a dog.”

That seemed to be the answer both Brandon and Artemis were looking for because they both smiled at me.  I ducked my head and smiled too.  I’d never imagined I’d end up with a date when I’d decided to enjoy my lunch in the sunshine.  And I’d never had a clue that dogs were such good matchmakers.

Slowly, Cameron removed his clothes.  Naked, he stood in the middle of the room, biting his bottom lip and trying to tell himself that he didn’t need it, didn’t want to do this.  But he did.

He loved the way the satin and lace made him feel.  With trembling hands, he pulled the garment from the drawer and just held it.  Soft pink, delicate, the lingerie was exactly what he needed after a bad day.

With the utmost reverence, he pulled the panties on and didn’t try to suppress the groan of satisfaction as they slid up his thighs and into place.  The fabric stretched to accommodate him, cupping his cock and cradling his balls.  He closed his eyes and savored the feeling.  He walked the three steps toward the full length mirror by memory, and then slowly lifted his lids.  His skin was winter pale and smooth and the pink looked perfect against his complexion.  He looked pretty.  He felt pretty.  His wavering confidence settled into place.

He didn’t know why he liked feminine underwear.  He never examined it too closely.  But when he put it on, he felt invincible.  Like nothing could touch him.  It made him feel beautiful and special.  He just wished that he had the self assurance to wear them whenever he wanted.  As it was now, he didn’t think he could share this bit of himself.  It was a secret because he would be judged.  Which was stupid.  Why should anyone care what kind of underwear he wore?

“Cameron?”

His whole body jerked at the sound of his lover’s voice.  A hot wave of embarrassment washed over him, his face heating as he squeezed his eyes closed.  He couldn’t bare to see the look of disgust on Jake’s face.  He scrambled backward and blindly reached for his pants.  “It’s n-not what you t-think.  I swear!  I just—“

“Cam,” Jake’s voice interrupted gently.

“They’re made for men!” Cam blurted.  Somehow it was important to him that he made the distinction.  He couldn’t hear anything but the pounding of his heart and the sound of his harsh breathing.  Panic threatened to bubble up and spill over.  He stomach was in knots.  This would be it.  Jake would end things now that he knew Cam’s secret.

“Cameron, look at me.”

Cam couldn’t help but obey the firm but quite command.  He gasped at what he saw.  Jake’s face held no judgment, no disgust.  He couldn’t be sure, but he thought he might even see lust in the man’s eyes.  Jake didn’t say anything for a long moment, his gaze raking down Cam’s body.

“Were you scared to tell me this is something you like?”

Cam swallowed hard.  “Y-yes.”

Jake gave a sad sort of smile.  “What have I ever done to make you think you couldn’t share this part of yourself with me?”

“N-no,” Cam stammered.  He took a breath.  “No, not you.  But it’s not normal and I…” He trailed off, not sure how to put it into words.  Jake just nodded like he understood.

“You like wearing that?  It makes you feel good?” Jake asked after long, tense minutes.

Scared and nervous, Cam gave a tentative nod.  Jake’s eyes turned hot.  The man slung his sport coat over the back of a chair and started loosening his tie.

“You have more?”

Bolstered by the response from his lover, Cam nodded again, this time more sure.

The grin on Jake’s face was absolutely wicked.  “Show me.”

Jack and Ryan will be back next week to share with us what they got each other for Christmas.  Until then, enjoy this short about some of the perils of home renovation.  

“I can’t get it up!”

The twelve year old boy in me couldn’t help but laugh at that.  I bit my lip to keep it inside.  If he caught me laughing, he’d be pissed.

“I’m a man!” he shouted, indignant.  “I should be able to get this thing up!”

I pressed my knuckles against my mouth and turned my back to him.  I would not laugh out loud.  I wouldn’t.

“Oh, there it goes.  No!  Stop!  You’re supposed to stay up.  Once you go up, you stay up.  That’s what you do!”

I lost it.  The laugh burst from my throat like a mighty guffaw.  I had to press my hand against my side, I was laughing so hard.  It really shouldn’t be that funny.  But he was so put out and had no idea what he said.  Little boy humor still got to me, still made me laugh despite the fact that I should have outgrown it twenty years ago.

“Oh my God!  What is wrong with you?  This isn’t funny in the slightest.  The window doesn’t work.”

“Counter-“snort ”-weight’s-“ chuckle “-broken,” I managed to choke out.

He huffed and stamped his foot before he crossed the room to my side.  I reached out and pulled him in, but he kept his body stiff.  I tried to rein in my mirth for his sake.

“Remind me again why we bought this house?” he grumbled.

“You wanted it, so we bought it.  Because you said it was, and I quote, ‘too freaking cute.’”

“Well, it is that,” he mumbled, his body finally melting against mine.  I dropped a kiss on his head and he grunted.  “But it’s also a freaking money pit.  Knob and tube wiring, so all the electrical has to be replaced.  Poor insulation and crumbling sheetrock in practically every room.   The stairs creak.  The windows don’t open, or if they do, they don’t stay open.  The furnace is so old it barely heats the house.”

Everything he said was true.  But that didn’t mean that we should give up.  This was his dream home, he was just too upset at the moment to remember.  I’d just have to remind him.

“On the upside, it’s got copper pipes.  The plumbing is solid.”

He was silent for a moment, then reluctantly agreed.  “That’s true.”

“And all the beautiful hard wood floors?”

“After we refinish them, you mean.”

“Easy enough, though.  And hey, there’s the breakfast nook.”

“Which is just so damn adorable I can’t even stand it.”  He was trying to hold on to his annoyance but it was slipping fast.

“And what about the window seat in the bay window in the front room?”

He sighed and sagged against me, letting me take his weight because he knew I’d hold him up.  “I love the window seat.”

I put both my arms around him and hugged him tight.  Five years we’d been together and I still got a tiny thrill every time I realized how perfectly he fit in my arms.

“It’s going to be perfect once we get all the reno done.  It’ll take a bit, but we’ll get it finished.  Of course, if you don’t love it, then we can always flip it and buy something else.”

He jerked back, that indignation back in his eyes. “Are you kidding?  This is our home!  We aren’t selling!”

I smirked and he groaned.  I saw the blush creeping up his cheeks before he buried his face in my chest.  I chuckled and squeezed him tight.

“Okay, fine,” he muttered, his voice muffled.  “You made your point.”

“Back to the list of what needs to be done then?” I asked.  I didn’t bother to gloat.  It would do me no good and he was reminded that we had bought this house to build our life together.

He took a deep breath, kissed me once, and then stepped out of my embrace.  “Yes.  But we’re replacing all the windows.”

I had been in a meeting all morning so I hadn’t been able to check the text when my phone vibrated in my pocket.  Finally free, I pulled my phone out and thumbed in the password while I walked back to my desk.  I saw it was from my boyfriend and smiled.  Until I actually read the text.

I learned today that I like girls.

What?  That didn’t make any kind of sense.  He was  as gay as I was and had known it since he was seven years old.  I smirked, thinking it was some kind of joke.

Really? I sent back.  A couple of minutes passed before I got the response.

Mhmm.

Still assuming he was yanking my chain, or that he would have a funny story to follow, I played along.  Is that so?  You got anyone in mind?

He didn’t respond.  For the next two hours, I obsessively checked my phone, waiting for him to write back.  The longer it went on, him not responding, the more I started to freak out.  Had he been serious?    Had he actually discovered that he liked girls?  Was he trying to tell me that he didn’t want to be with me anymore?  I started to get angry.  If that was the case, it was a shit thing to tell me over text.  I thought we were closer than that!  Sure, we’d only been dating for nine months, but the last six we’d been exclusive.  I thought we were building something special together.  And now he was just throwing that away by telling me he liked girls over text message?!  I was all I could do not to call him and demand answers right that second!

I nearly had a heart attack when my phone finally vibrated again.  I snatched it up.

What?

What what? I wrote back.  I hoped he could tell I was seething with anger just by my words.

Do I have anyone in mind for what?

The snort that escaped was not amused.  For the girl you like.

There were just a few seconds of silence before a new message popped up.  I like girls???!!!???!!!

Wha?  He seemed genuinely surprised by that, if the excessive punctuation was anything to go by.  I scrolled back up through the messages until I got to the first one he sent.  My face turned red and I started laughing as quietly as possible when I read what he had actually wrote.

Ha!  You said grits!  Not girls!

The phone started ringing in my hand.  I turned my back to the rest of the office so that I could answer it.  It all seemed incredibly funny now that I knew I had read the word wrong.

“You seriously thought I suddenly started liking girls?” he growled.  I couldn’t contain my grin.

“I’m sorry.  I guess I forgot how to read.  This whole time–grits, not girls!” The laughter started bubbling up again and I pressed my knuckles to my mouth to keep it inside.  Some of my coworkers were on the phone with customers and it wouldn’t do for them to have to explain why there was suddenly hysterical laughter ringing through the office.

He gave a heavy sigh.  “And knowing you, you were all kinds of pissed off, thinking I made some huge revelation over text.”

He was right, of course.  But I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that.  “Hey!  This was a big revelation.  Grits!  You like grits!”

“Christian,” he said, his tone full of warning.  I barely contained the whimper.   I loved it when he got firm and growly.  It never failed to get me hot and bothered.  I wiggled in my seat a little and started  going over the projection reports in my head to get things to go down.  It wouldn’t do to sport a hard-on at work.

“Yes, sir?” My voice was a little breathy.  It couldn’t be helped.

His answering chuckle was downright seductive.  I rolled my chair forward until my lap was hidden under the edge of my desk and spread my knees to give myself a little room.  I really needed to hang up the phone and go back to the reports.  There was nothing sexy about spreadsheets.

“When I get to your place tonight, I’ll show you just how much I don’t like girls,” he promised.  He knew exactly what he was doing and he was making it worse on purpose.  I really did whimper then.  He gave another low, delicious laugh and hung up.  I thunked my head down on the desk and breathed through my nose, trying to calming my raging libido.  Once I had myself back under control, I sat up again and smirked before I sent one last text.

I’ll make sure to have grits.

I was totally stalking him.

I knew it and I knew it was wrong.  But I couldn’t seem to help myself.  And really, I could blame him entirely.  He was the one that had the same exact routine every work day and made it so easy for me to happen to be at the same places he was.  And he was just gorgeous, with thick dark hair and light blue eyes.  He always wore a suit and it wasn’t off the rack either.  It had been tailored to fit his tall and broad frame.  He made my mouth water but I was still trying to get up the courage to talk to him.

Every morning, he walked into the coffee shop on the corner between 7:15 and 7:21.  He walked to the counter, ordered a large black coffee and a blueberry muffin, and then sat at one of the tables in the corner by the window to eat the muffin and answer emails on his phone.  It was by complete chance that I happened to be in line behind him one morning and the overly friendly barista had told me with a conspiratorial wink that he ordered the same thing every day.  I made sure I was there the next morning to witness it myself.  And then I made a point to be there and sitting at a nearby table every morning for the past three months.

It wasn’t so odd that we happened to have our breakfast at the same café every morning.  Downtown wasn’t exactly lousy with these kinds of shops, at least not so close to the courthouse.  This one was pretty much it and they did a swift business.  So I was comfortable that my stalking went unnoticed.  At least in the mornings.

Lunchtime was a bit more obvious.  He always went to the sub shop on the ground floor of the courthouse.  Again, it was coincidence that I did too.  When I had seen him there a handful of times over a couple of weeks, I asked Jerry, who worked the counter, if the guy came in a lot.  Jerry had rolled his eyes as he answered, “Yes, every damn day.  Always gets the same sandwich too.”  So I started eating there everyday as well.

It had been going on for a couple of months before I realized that the man, whom I thought had been oblivious, had actually been paying attention.  For two days in a row, when he walked into the coffee shop and then the sub shop later that afternoon, he purposefully looked for me.  And when his eyes landed on me, he gave a satisfied little smirk before he went on with his business and ignored me.  But those few seconds that our eyes were connected made my heart flutter.  Of course, I’d been the idiot that had been following him around on purpose.  I was sure he thought me some kind of freak.

The next day, I skipped the coffee shop entirely.  I told myself that I had to let my quirky little obsession go, that it wasn’t cool to be stalking him like I was.  And then I purposely went to the sub shop an hour later than my regular time so I would miss him.  I’d grown accustomed to eating the delicious sandwich everyday.  I fully intended to buy my sub and then going back to my desk to eat it.

But Jerry pulled out his phone and sent a few texts before he even took my order.  Then he took a really long time putting together my sandwich.  I knew he was doing it on purpose—I’d watched him throw together one of his masterpieces in seconds—but I couldn’t figure out why.  And then I felt a tap on my shoulder that made me jump.  I whipped around and came face to face with the guy I’d been stalking for months.

He gave me a smile. “Missed you at breakfast this morning.”

I gasped.  Opened my mouth.  Shut it again.  I had no idea what to say.  It didn’t seem to matter that I’d suddenly been struck mute because he kept talking.

“I thought you were just running late, even though you hadn’t missed a breakfast in three months.  But when you didn’t show up to lunch either, I started to worry.  Only Jerry told me he saw you walking through the lobby this morning.  So he promised to let me know if you showed up.”

I blushed.  I could feel my entire face and neck heat up.  I tried to duck my head, turn away, something, but he caught my arm and when I turned back to look at him his smile was gentle.

“My name is Seth, by the way.”

“Luke,” I managed, finally getting my tongue unstuck from the roof of my mouth.  “I’m Luke.”

“Luke,” he repeated.  Then his grin became blinding and I was sure that if I hadn’t been leaning against the counter, my knees would have stopped supporting me.  “It’s nice to finally know the name of  my stalker.”

“I’m sorry,” I stammered out.  “I shouldn’t have been—“

He cut me off with a quick dismissive motion of his hand.  “I’m flattered, actually.  For a while I thought it was just coincidence.  Then, when I realized it wasn’t, I was waiting for you to introduce yourself.  Today, I realized I’d have to take matters into my own hands.”  Seth took a step closer so that we were almost touching.  “How about you let me buy you lunch and then we can discuss where we’ll go to dinner?”

“I’ve been stalking you,” I blurted.  The blush on my cheeks intensified.  My next words were mumbled, “Why would you want to have lunch or dinner with me?”

God, I loved his smile.  He gave a little shrug.  “You were subtle.  You weren’t creepy.  And I admire your dedication.  I’d like to get to know you.  See if the attraction goes beyond just the physical.”

I felt the smile spread across my face.  I nodded.  Who knew my stalking would pay off?

I walked into the house and stopped dead.  All around me, the living room had been transformed into a winter wonderland.  There were garlands hung around the doorways, twinkling lights draped everywhere, and bunches of mistletoe hung from the ceiling at regular intervals.  It looked beautiful and perfect for Christmas.

The only thing was, it was the middle of July.

“What the hell?” I muttered, looking around wide eyed.  I pulled my messenger bag off my shoulder and dropped it onto the couch.  Turning in a slow circle, I took it all in again.  And then filled my lungs, “Jamie!”

My roommate came running into the room, his smile wide but his eyes showed his nerves.  When he’d answered the ad I’d placed in the newspaper a year ago, I would never have thought he was crazy.  I needed help making the mortgage payments, he was desperate to get out of living with four roommates in a two bedroom apartment.  We spent a couple of weeks hanging out and getting to know each other before we decided that the roommate situation would work out.

“Yes?”

I flung my arms out and gestured to the room.  I’m certain the disbelief was all over my face.

“What?” he asked, his tone mockingly innocent.

“Come on, Jamie!  You want to tell me why you went Christmas Crazy in the middle of the summer?” I took a step toward him and his eyes lit up.

“Stop!” he shouted and I froze where I was, suddenly nervous that I was about to step on something lethal.  But his grin just grew as he pointed up.  I was right under a sprig of mistletoe.  He stepped in closer until we were in touching distance.

“You have to kiss me now.  It’s the mistletoe law,” he said softly, his voice dropping.

“I–what–huh?”

He nodded emphatically.  “It is.  I’m sure of it.  If you’re under the mistletoe, you have to kiss whoever is under it with you.”  He closed the distance between us with a very deliberate step.

And suddenly, everything made sense.  The way he’d been acting the last couple of weeks, the things he had said.  The way he sat a little closer to me on the couch when we were watching TV or how he suddenly sat next to me when we shared  a meal instead of across the table.   Every time I had caught him staring at me only to have him drop his gaze and blush.  How had I not put the pieces together?  Here I’d been thinking that I was alone in the way my feelings were growing and changing for him.  And he’d been feeling the same exact things.  Slowly, I reached out and cupped his face.  I was suddenly grateful that I’d been running late this morning and didn’t have time to shave.  I’d lost count of many times had he told me he thought I looked good with stubble.

I guided him in until we were touching from chest to knees.  His breathing sped up.  Every time he breathed in, our chests pressed together.  He was just a few inches shorter than I was and I appreciated that even more now.  The distance was enough that I had the leverage, but not so much that kissing would be difficult.  With deliberate slowness, I lowered my head until our lips were just about to touch and froze there.

“Adam,” he whimpered when I didn’t take it further.  He pushed up onto his toes, trying to press our lips together.  I held his face still and backed up a scant inch so that he couldn’t reach his goal.

“Next time you want my attention, you ask for it.  Okay?”

“Yes,” he agreed quickly.  “I promise.”

I smiled.  “It looks really good in here though,” I praised.  Then I closed the distance between our mouths and kissed him.

There was frosting everywhere—in my hair, on my skin and clothes, all over the counter, the mixer, the backsplash.  It was on every conceivable surface except for the cake.  I stared in dismay at the disaster that was our kitchen.  This was what I got for trying to actually cook.

It was his birthday, as well as our 5^th anniversary, and all I had wanted was to make a nice dinner and a cake to celebrate.  He did all the cooking because I was completely inept.  But I thought even I could handle cake from a box and frozen lasagna.

I had been wrong.

I’d left the pan in the oven too long and now the lasagna was a bit burnt around the edge.  Salvageable but not the most tasty of dinners.   An open window had taken care of the worst of the burnt smell.  And I had managed to get the cake baked, even if it was lopsided, and cooling on a wire rack.  It was after I’d pulled the smoking lasagna from the oven that I realized I had forgotten to buy frosting.  A panicked call to my mother and she gave me a recipe for butter cream frosting.  Easy enough: butter, confectioner’s sugar (which I was surprised to find we actually had) and a little milk.   It was just mixing the ingredients in a bowl.  How hard could that be?

I learned quickly that stand mixers had speed settings for a reason.  Once everything was churning slowly in the bowl and nearly mixed, I thought it would be a good idea to speed up the process.  Whipping the dial to high had been a bad, bad mistake.

And now, he would be home soon, I had frosting everywhere, the cake wasn’t decorated, and the table wasn’t set.  I’d had this plan and now everything was ruined.  Panic started to creep up my throat but a glance at the clock assured me that I had enough time to get dinner on the table and get cleaned up before he got home from work.  He’d never be the wiser if I could keep him out of the kitchen.  A deep breath, and I set to work.  Remembering to leave the mixer on low, I added more butter and sugar until I thought I might have enough to cover the cake.  A few minutes later it was done, and I was glopping the stuff on top of the chocolate confection, spreading it a bit haphazardly.  If he asked, I’d say it was supposed to be funky and artistic.  I’d blame Pinterest, he’d believe me.

The slamming of the front door sounded a second before I heard him call out, “Babe?  I’m home.”

I gave a very unmanly-like eep and raced into the hallway, blocking his view of the kitchen.  He was sorting through the mail.  “You’re early.”

“Yeah, I decided to…” he trailed off as he looked up.  A smirk crossed his lips. “What the hell happened to you?  Did you get into a food fight?”

Crap!  I’d forgotten I was a hot mess.  I gulped as I blushed furiously.  “I was trying to cook dinner.  You know, to celebrate.  But it was a total fail.  The lasagna got a little burned and the frosting exploded.  I think the cake is edible but it’s lopsided and—“

The feral look in his eye made me stop talking.  I swallowed hard as he prowled closer.  He didn’t stop until he was right up in my personal space.  His hands clamped down on my hips and he arched his neck forward until he could lick a long stripe up my cheek.  I shivered.

“Tastes good,” he murmured, his voice low and sultry.

“That’s—that’s good.  I tried to—ughn.”  This time he was licking the frosting off the edge of my jaw.  Arousal shot through me and that fast, I was hard.

“How about,” he began, his lips right at my ear, “we get you cleaned up?  You’ll probably need my help.  Who knows where all this frosting ended up?  I should probably inspect you very carefully, to be sure we get it all.”

I grabbed his hand and dragged him up the stairs.  Dinner could totally wait.

**By Request…sorta**

It was pitch black and raining.  The clouds obscured the moon and stars.  Any light that could have leaked through was masked by the dense trees.  Crouched low to the ground, I moved quickly as I could.  My heart was in my throat and I struggled to control my breathing.  Had to keep moving, had to keep going.  If I stopped, I’d be caught.  And then it would be all over.

The trees thinned out and I stood up and ran.  Silent as possible, I made a break for the edge of the forest.  If I could make it out, I would be free.  Frantic, panicked, I did my best to not to make a sound.  Slipping on the wet leaves, I bit my lip to keep from crying out as I went down hard.  I pressed my hand to my mouth and listened hard.  Somewhere to the left, I heard my pursuer moving through the detritus.  It was muffled, faint, so I knew he wasn’t too close.  I still had a chance.

Slowly, carefully, I stood.  Listening hard, I could hear him approaching.  My blood pounded, rushing through my veins.  I took a chance and slipped my cell from my pocket.  I was still in the dead zone, not even a half bar of service.  It would be no help.  I tucked it back in my pocked and began to move.

My pursuer was moving faster now and I had to get going or else he’d catch me.  I couldn’t allow that to happen.  My heart tripped into double time and I ran.  I didn’t care if I was making noise, alerting him to my presence.  I needed to get free.  It was my only thought.

His pace picked up to match mine.  The distance between us was closing rapidly.  But I could see the break in the trees now, knew I was almost free.  I put on a burst of speed.  But just as I reached the tree line, arms closed around me.  I screamed, fought against the constricting arms across my chest.  I kicked.  I clawed.  I arched my body and fought to free myself.  But there was no breaking free.  He had me.  I was at his mercy.

His breath was hot on my face when he put his lips to my ear.  “Gotcha.  You can’t get away from me.  You’re mine.”

I whimpered.  He pulled me tight against him and I felt his erection against my backside.  I fought not to react, not to let him know how that affected me.  But he knew.  He always knew.

“You’re mine,” he repeated.  I knew what he wanted but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.  One hand came up and cupped my throat while the other moved down grab hold of my semi-hard cock.  His fingers squeezed and I went limp in his hold.

“Yours,” I agreed.

He let me go, turned me around, and his grin was blinding in the dark.  I felt the answering grin stretch my own lips.  Leaning forward, I kissed him quickly.

“Next time, let’s not do this when it’s raining.  I’m soaked through.”

He gave a soft laugh.  “Then let’s get you home and out of those clothes,” he said, complete with a suggestive eyebrow waggle.  Like I didn’t already know exactly what he wanted.

I nodded fast and took his hand in mine.  Together we ran toward where we had parked the car.  Indulging him in his “chase” fantasy was easy.  I loved him.

I should have stayed in bed.

Sometime during the night, the power went out.  So, instead of my alarm clock waking me at the usual time with its usual klaxon blare, it was blinking 12:00.  I only woke up because I was freezing.  Apparently, along with the lack of power, there was a lack of heat.  Fumbling for my cell phone, I squinted until the numbers came into focus.  Then gave a few choice curses while I scrambled from the bed.  I was already an hour late for work.

The water in the shower was warm enough to tolerate, and I soaped quickly.  Just about the time I realized that, due to the power outage, I wouldn’t have a pot of hot coffee waiting for me, was when the water went ice cold.  I startled and jerked out of the spray, slipping on the wet porcelain of the tub and nearly crashing to the floor.  I managed to save myself by grabbing the towel rack.  Of course, in the process, I wrenched my elbow and pulled half of the towel rack away from the wall.  Grumbling, I turned off the water, stepped carefully from the tub, and dried off as quickly as humanly possible.  There was no way I was shaving with freezing cold water, so the stubble would have to stay.  Teeth brushed, I made my way back across the hall to the bedroom so I could dress.

Where I promptly stepped on the cat.  He gave a screech and hiss, taking off to hide under the bed.   I was only aware of this on the periphery as I was falling unheeded toward the hard wood floor.  Knees hit first, then the sore elbow, and it was a close call to keep my face from smacking hard.  I laid there for a moment, catching my breath, and wondering if I shouldn’t just crawl back under the covers.  I made myself get up, get dressed, and head outside.

Of course, as soon as I was in the parking lot, I saw that my car had a flat tire.  At that point, I was ready to admit defeat and hide until the day was over.  But there was a big project due at work and I knew I needed to go in.  I changed the tire, thankfully the spare in the trunk was in good condition, headed back inside to change into clean clothes and finally, only two and half hours after I should have already been sitting at my desk, I was on my way.

But the universe wasn’t done playing with me.  There was a fender bender on the on ramp to the highway which meant that I had to take the long way to work.  It added fifteen minutes onto my journey.  At this point, I knew I’d never make it without a healthy dose of caffeine and pulled into a coffee shop.  I was already late; a few more minutes wouldn’t make a difference either way.  The line was only four people deep, but the person at the front was apparently ordering enough to feed an army.  I tried not to act impatient.  If the occasional sigh escaped, I couldn’t be blamed.

Finally, I made it to the front of the line and ordered my extra large double shot espresso.  When the smiling girl gave me my total, I reached into my wallet to pay her.  I stared in shock at the two singles and the lack of bank card.  God, could this day get any worse?

I smiled in what I hoped was an apologetic way and opened my mouth to tell her to forget it, when the man behind me stepped up to the counter and handed her his card.  He smiled and for a moment I was arrested by just how pretty he was.

I blinked.  “Thank you,” I managed to stutter.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said softly.  “You look like you’re having a hell of a morning.  I’m happy to help.”

“You have no idea what kind of morning I’ve had.  But I really appreciate this.  It’s an incredibly kind thing for you to do.”

He cocked his head to the side and studied me for a moment.  Then his smile grew wider and he gestured with his head toward one of the empty tables.  “Want to sit down with me and tell me about your horrific morning?”

I grinned.  I couldn’t help it.  I was late already, might as well make the most of it.