137 Q Street
Part Eleven
by sarAdora


"Spend the rest of the weekend with me," he murmured, wrapping her in a towel and returning to her bed. "I want to make love to you again."

"You've had enough loving for a while," she smiled, sucking his flat nipples till he groaned.

"Want more of you," he husked, his hands cupping her breasts, tweaking her nipples till they hardened in his palms.

"Use your hands to bring yourself off," she said softly, nipping him.

"I'm going to use them," he promised. "On your butt till you beg me to..."

"I'll leave you if you hurt me," she warned.

"You won't get away too easily," he said calmly. "I'll hold you till you beg me to spread your thighs and... "

"You'll hold my body," she said cryptically. "But I'll be long gone."

He cupped her chin and looked in her emerald green eyes, remembering how she avoided interrogation, eager to learn how she mentally turned herself off and on when things didn't go her way.

"Self hypnosis?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied, surprised he understood.

"Somewhere in the past?"

"Somewhere safe," she answered, realizing she had underestimated him and inadvertently given him a clue to understanding her.

"Has it become a crutch for you?" he asked softly.

"A necessity," she murmured, burrowing into his arms to feel safe again.

She pushed him out the door after he extracted a promise that she'd spend time with him the next day. They agreed to meet in McLean where she had bought an old house that was in need of heavy-duty restoration.

"Come prepared to work," she told him.

"Should I bring some tools?"

"I have everything you need," she said.

Yes, you do,  he thought, sated from loving her, eager to do it again.

"I'm a task master," she warned. "So if you're not up to it, don't come."

His face morphed into his AD persona and his hands went to his hips, about to deliver a few scathing words about his fitness. She laughed at him, poked a finger in his chest and turned her face up to kiss him.

"You're a lot of fun to tease," she told him, molding her mound to his sex, grinding into his groin.

"And you're a naughty tease," he groaned, cupping her bottom cheeks and squeezing.

"I *am* going to work you hard," she warned.

"I'm going to do the same to you," he promised, kissing her one last time and leaving before he took her against the wall.


The house was a turn-of-the-last-century vintage - about 1894. It sat on six acres - six uncultivated, untilled, rock laden, debris ridden, acres. Neysa bought it at a bank auction for a song, and paid the back taxes. She had walked the land when she considered the purchase and to her delight, found rich fertile soil just below the surface. A good tilling would turn the acreage into a foundation for lush gardens. She couldn't wait to begin the restoration.

Unfortunately, the land was going to have to wait awhile. First, Neysa had to make the house habitable so she could move in. She had cleared a path to the front porch a few weeks earlier and with any luck, would be able to move in within the month. Broken windows had been boarded up to keep the wildlife out, all outside doors sealed except for two. There was running water and the electricity had been turned on. It would be a long time until phone lines were run but she had her cell.

She wanted to make a bedroom and bathroom tolerable to live in and get the kitchen in enough shape to cook a meal. Then, depending on the weather, she might tackle one of the fireplaces next. After that, she'd reward herself by working in the yard. She estimated that the house would take a couple of years to fix if she did most of the work herself, but Neysa wasn't in any hurry. It was hers and she didn't have any deadlines.

The advent of Alex Morris in her life could complicate matters, she thought, but oh what lovely complications. She went to bed quite satisfied. He was good company, great in bed, a little bossy but manageable. She'd test the waters further when he arrived at her house in the morning.


He arrived with breakfast - coffee, juice, bagels, smoked salmon and cream cheese, and apple danish. Neysa took one look at him - broad shoulders, hard muscles and an air of heavy-duty testosterone stuffed into jeans and a T-shirt. She hoped she wasn't drooling; his steady gaze instantly liquefied her inner thighs.

Alex took one look at her - the sweet round curves of her breasts and hips clearly defined in her work jeans and a T-shirt. He had an instant visual of her naked except for the heavy work boots she wore and swallowed hard as he felt his crotch tighten against the heavy denim of his jeans. With a lot of luck, he might be able to refrain from ripping her clothes off and pounding into her flesh... at least until after they ate breakfast; he was partial to drinking his coffee hot.

She had swept the floor inside the main door, draped a large tablecloth over it and gratefully, took the basket of food he offered. They said little as they sat cross-legged on the cloth, their eyes doing most of the talking while they ate. The coffee was hotter than Neysa realized and she burned her tongue, a small whimper escaping when she swallowed too fast.

Alex pounced, pulling her into his arms and kissing her, the heat of her mouth searing more than his lips and tongue. "I want you," he murmured.

"You can't have me," she sighed, kissing him back and making him chuckle.

"Yes, I can," he snorted and pushed her onto her back to show her that he could.

"If you think you can have me any time you feel like it... any time you... stop that!" she yelled when he unsnapped her jeans with a practiced hand.

"I need you," he murmured as he lifted her hips with one hand and dragged her jeans down with the other, totally undeterred by her words. "And you need me," he added before covering her mouth with his. "Start the day with a little loving and it will make our day that much better, that much sweeter."

She wanted to argue. She wanted to put this man in his place. She was the one who was supposed to be calling the shots. She was... Who in blazes does he think he is? Ohhhhhh, he's so hard.

He kissed her hard and kept kissing her until his laughter at her lame argument was under control. She had yielded to him without the fight he expected and that only confirmed his opinion that she wanted him as much as he wanted her. Her jeans were at mid calf, snagged by her work boots and she was just too sexy to resist. Testing the waters, he unzipped his fly, flipped her onto her knees and thrust into her from behind. He wanted total dominance over her and he planned to achieve it in this position.

Neysa gasped at his sudden thrust into her and opened her mouth to utter a scathing remark but his hardness filled her... his arms held her tightly and his hands... His hands... so good... She yielded and in doing so, knew she was yielding more than her body. She had always been in possession of her emotions, always in control, never letting anyone too close to her, but this man... this feeling... their joining... their... this was different... and familiar in a way she couldn't remember... and good, so good. She wasn't sure if this was a mistake or... the best thing that had ever happened to her.

~ End Part Eleven ~

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