Missed Your Lips

Chapter 7 – Confusion

A pain at the back of my skull told me something was off. We had left town in such a hurry that I didn’t get a chance to grab my things, and nothing to read. The drive was riddled in silence; my continuous string of questions went completely ignored. Only the passing landscapes provided entertainment, and even that was short-lived because eventually I just fell asleep. When I woke up, it was already dark outside, and my head was starting to throb with the makings of a headache.

I stepped out of the truck to find our trip had ended in the woods. All I could see were trees circling us. A path was lit by the full moon high above us. I looked to the sky, hoping the moonlight and the accompanying stars would fill me with renewed hope that our situation would improve. However if we were resorting to running, I could only guess that we left for a good reason.

I followed Blitz up the path to a cabin, abandoned and dark. With a turn of the knob, we were inside, and my nose immediately filled with the smell of cedar and mildew. I heard the sound of a match striking. By the single firelight, Blitz found a small oil lamp, and the fire’s light grew to expose what looked like a living room. He turned to me and smiled, and my head began to hurt worse. I had seen that look before, his face content in the warm light, but I couldn’t get the memory to force itself forward. The more I strained, the more my head ached.

When I opened my eyes again, he was in front of a stove in the middle of the room, lighting a piece of aged newspaper and throwing it inside. I hadn’t realized how cool it was until the wood inside caught fire, it’s warmth radiating from the iron beast.

“Stay here while I check the other room. If you need a blanket, they’re in the chest in front of the couch,” he said, taking his small amount of light with him.

The stove provided enough light for me to see the seating arrangements. Both the armchair and couch looked like they were carved out of the forest, both foundations made from tree trunks and thick branches. The bark was shaved away, and the underlying wood was smoothed to a beautiful shine. The cushions were just a red, green, and black plaid, shouting with masculine appeal. However, when I flopped onto the couch, I found the cushions very inviting as my body sank into them. By the firelight, I could see only bare walls in the small room, and looking behind, I found a kitchen area. Like the furniture, the cabin seemed to be built from the forest as well. The cupboards were the same smoothed wood as the furniture, a heady cedar smell emanating its fresh scent from them.

I leaned forward and looked at the large chest that could substitute as a coffee table. There was a design carved into the top, but I couldn’t determine its origin. My head began to pulse again as I blew a film of dust from the top to get a better look. I still couldn’t see it, so I stood up, and once I was above it, I could tell it was a plane, possibly a bomber. My brain was telling me that I should know what this is and where it came from, but I could only close my eyes in frustration.

The lock was covered in rust, and I had to wipe it on my pants before I could touch anything inside. Feeling around, I immediately found a blanket and yanked it out, and felt something solid land in my lap. Pushing the blanket to the side, I found a book in my lap, what looked like a journal. The outside was worn, the binding faded and cracking with age. I looked around to see if Blitz had returned before I opened it, and found the firelight still in the other room.

I leaned back into the couch again, and wrapped the musty blanket around my out-stretched legs. The pages to the book were brown with age, many of them stiff and fragile. The book opened to a dated page, December 15, 2016, almost ten years ago. The passage read:

The days are too long. The sun rises and the sun sets, and the only joy I can find in the daylight is the fact that it’s easier to find the whiskey. It’s been three months now. I still wake up expecting to find her here, breathing silently next to me, her body stretching as she wakes to greet the morning sun. The bed is still indented where her form used to rest, as if it doesn’t want to give up on the body it once held in comfort. I still only sleep on my side, to encroach on her space would only dampen the memories I have in this small space.

I look at my pistol as it lies on the counter, taunting me with my past, begging me to finish what I start every morning. Dried saliva around the barrel is the only evidence of my attempts to force the cold steel down my throat. I can’t bring myself to do it. I just know she is still out there.

“Did you find something interesting in there?” said a stern voice above me.

I slammed the book shut, and tossed it to the armchair. “No, not really,” I lied.

He turned his back to me as I sunk deeper into the couch, pulling the blanket up over my arms. I closed my eyes as the air from the burning wood started to dry them out. The dry heat felt wonderful against me, but it also made my head ache more. I fell over onto my side as Blitz came around and placed a mug on the chest.

“Here, this will help to warm your insides,” he said, tossing the journal onto the chest as he took a seat in the armchair.

Sitting up, I took a sip of the liquid; the herbal tea was fresh on my tongue with a hint of rosemary and mint. I closed my eyes as I let it slide through my body, leaving a warm trail in its wake. “Thank you,” I said. “This helps a lot.”

He nodded, and stretched his legs out onto the chest, his feet resting on the carved plane. I watched him in silence as he set his mug on the floor, and laid his head back, closing his eyes as his body absorbed the heat. This seemed like a more appropriate surrounding for him; all manly and secluded, just like him. And like the apartment, this cabin was barren of anything loud, no radio, no television. The man enveloped himself in silence, and now he had taken in a woman who didn’t understand the true meaning of peace and stillness.

“You’re still watching me,” he said, drawing my attention to his eyes.

I rolled over to avoid his stare. “Well, you’re gawking at me, so stop it.”

He snorted, but I didn’t dare roll over to see if he was still looking at me. I had my own pride to deal with, and I didn’t have time to inflate his. However, my tea was still on the chest, so I would have to roll over eventually. Damn it.

“The bedroom isn’t warm enough yet, won’t be until at least tomorrow, so we’ll sleep in here tonight,” Blitz said, settling himself in the chair again as he kicked off his boots.

Peeking over the blanket, I found him in his previous position, eyes closed. I wanted to ask about the journal, but I didn’t have the heart to bring it up. Whatever was in there was personal, and I didn’t know anything remotely personal about him yet. Though it involved a woman, so it had to be good. Maybe if we got out of all this, I could ask Vince. Then again, maybe I had read too many romance novels. The girls at the bar had a bin full of that junk, and sometimes I needed something to help me sleep besides booze.

Instead of prying, I decided it could wait, and just pulled the blanket up to my nose. Even though we were right in front of the stove, I couldn’t stop shivering. Something was off. Maybe my impending headache was playing with my nerves. I don’t remember the cold affecting me this way before.

“Are you warm enough over there?” he said, moving over to the couch. He lifted my feet and sat down, placing my blanketed feet onto his lap.

“I’m fine,” I groaned, taking my feet away and curling up tighter under the cover. If he could be cold and impersonal, so could I.

Blitz grabbed my feet again, this time yanking me across the couch so my legs draped over his lap. “If you don’t want my help, you can at least share your warm blanket.”

I just glared at him as I could feel the cold slipping along my legs from his body. So much for all the warmth I had mustered. I thought to myself, Fine, just steal all my damn heat.

Wait until I get warm, I heard in my mind when I closed my eyes. There will be plenty for both of us.

~*~*~

Darkness, a soft summer breeze curls itself around my bare skin. I smell rain on the air, there is a storm coming. I move to sit up, but I am restrained. I open my mouth to speak, but I am gagged. I open my eyes, but I am blind.

“What’s wrong, lover? Afraid of giving up your power?” a woman whispers in my ear, licking a trail from the lobe down to my throat.

I’m on a bed; the sheets are rumpled underneath me. There are pillows behind me to prop me up. The woman is straddling me now, nipping at my neck as I feel her warmth rubbing against me, arousing me. She’s so wet now. I groan, and she laughs. She backs off of me, and I’m afraid she’s leaving me. Then her lips are on me, taking my head into her mouth. Her hair teases my skin as her head moves up and down. Her luscious lips massage me, her tongue seeks what I can offer, making me hard. She takes all of me into her mouth, and my body stiffens as her one long suck forces me to hold my release in.

“Now, now, you can’t go yet,” she coos, “I haven’t had my turn.”

I’m struggling against my ties, ropes from the feel of it, as she breaks contact with me again. One leg snakes around my hips. She holds me in her hand, stroking me, rubbing the white beads around my head. I can feel her body hovering above me, one hand on my cock, the other on my chest for balance.

She drops on me, thrusting me deep inside to her core. She lets out a long breath as her body adjusts to me. She leans back to take more of me in, the tips of her long hair tickling my bare legs. Her hips begin a slow rotation, round and round, using me to rub all of her inner walls. I can feel her getting wetter, already much aroused before she enveloped me within her body. Her breath is coming faster, and with it, her gyrations become more erratic, as if she is trying force me into her sweet spot. I start to laugh into the gag.

She stops moving, and grabs the fabric, pulling out of my mouth. “Something funny?” she says, her voice husky in her frustration.

“Come here,” I say.

She stops moving, and her walls vibrate even as she leans forward. I can feel her breath against my lips. She is so close to me, so close to her finish.

“Did you have something to say?” she asked, toying with me, moving so I was almost completely free of her body. Only my head remained inside, and she was holding it for ransom.

I smiled, “No, not really.” Then in one swift motion, I forced myself upward, thrusting back into her body. The force of the movement pushed her forward, and I stole her lips as I thrust into her again and again. I could taste our previous dessert on her lips, and I licked away the sweetness of the chocolate, parting her lips to find her tongue. Harder and harder, the strength of my thrusts made her grab the headboard with both hands. She’s whimpering now yet she refuses to let go my lips. She moans against them, her breath coming in spurts until the moment I finish both of us.

Still inside, yet she is lying on me. I start to laugh, and she half-heartedly slaps my leg. I find myself smiling again. “Come here, my little hellcat…”

~*~*~

I woke up feeling very warm, and slightly wet. I opened one eye to the sunlight streaming in from the window. Looking around, I saw the scenery hadn’t changed, it was just better lit. I tried to move, but my legs were stuck. Blitz was still asleep on the couch. The only problem was he had fallen over during the night and was now using me as his pillow. His arms were wrapped around my legs, and his head rested on my stomach.

Grabbing the top of the couch, I managed to pull myself up. But my head immediately protested, and sent me plummeting back down. The pain was getting worse, and the sun did not help relieve the effect. I tried to wiggle out of Blitz’s grip, but when I tried to move, he tightened his grip around me.

“Don’t move,” he groaned, his voice deep and scratchy from sleep.

I froze as he relinquished my legs, and sat up. I started to stretch them out to get the blood flowing again, but when I brushed up against his lap, I found something hard. Rather than move away, I just froze in position and watched him.

“You don’t listen very well,” he said through a yawn. He stretched his arms upward, and I heard a part of him ‘pop’.

I couldn’t take my eyes off of him when he got up. His white-blond hair was slightly mussed and loosened from its tie. His dark blue shirt was very wrinkled, I assume from getting pressed into the couch by me. But the part that concerned me most was in his pants. He was hard. Apparently the sun was not the only thing to rise this morning. That’s when it hit me.

“That wasn’t my dream…” I whispered to myself, as the images played in my head again. I could feel myself getting wetter just thinking about it.

“No,” Blitz said, walking into the kitchenette. “That was not your dream.”

~*~*~

It seems that in my embarrassment, I had fallen back into sleep. When I emerged from the blanket, the sun was no longer in my eyes, and the fire in the stove was burning low. I was able to sit up, but my head was still pounding. I don’t ever remember my head hurting like this before. What was it aching for?

The front door was open, and a fresh breeze blew in. I almost coughed on the clean air, my lungs were too used to the dungy atmosphere of New Horizon. I moved to the porch to find an empty rocking chair and a spectacular view of a lake. Birds were chirping high in the trees, and looking up, I found there were no clouds in the sky. Gazing back down the path we had entered from, I found the truck gone, so I was alone.

Walking through the living room, I made a glance at the chest. The journal was gone, and the chest was now secured with a large padlock. So instead of entertaining myself with more of his past, I made my way to the kitchenette. Blitz had set out a teapot, tea, and a mug. I went through the motions of making the drink, even though the gas stove was a little tricky. Yet, it was almost as if I had done this before. I spilled some of the water when I was pouring it into the mug, and I knew exactly where to find the towels. I went right to the silverware drawer for a spoon. And somehow I just knew that when I would look out the kitchen window, I would see a hummingbird feeder.

I closed my eyes as the pain in my head moved from throbbing to incapacitating. My memories were trying to surface; my mind just knew I had been here before. Yet I couldn’t put the pieces together. Grabbing my mug, I tried to move back to the couch, but I only made it two steps. My body hit the floor as it gave out under the strain of my mind, the glass mug shattering across the ground in a pure representation of what my head wished it could do.


Sorry the updates are taking so long. Stupid work and life getting in the way.