Image courtesy of FreeDigitalPhotos.net
Rating: Mature
Jeremy was safe. He had always been safe from the time they met at the orthodontist in sixth grade getting their braces tightened through Junior Proms for their respective high schools to today, when Anthony let her know he was leaving her because she was the ice queen of the Queen City. She wasn’t an ice queen; God knows, they had sex often enough. She just wasn’t into the weirdness he started introducing after they had moved in together.
It was good to feel safe again after the last six months of Hell, before she had to go back for her things and figure out where she was going to live. Maybe she shouldn’t have drunk the half bottle of wine. She pushed a little away from Jeremy to stare into his black eyes for a moment, “I did it again didn’t I.”
A rueful smile crossed Jeremy’s boyishly handsome face, “You seem to pick them just like your mom.”
For a second Gwyn leaned her forehead against his. They used to do that as kids trying to exchange thoughts. Jeremy had been determined to learn telepathy, sci-fi geek that he was. She dropped her eyes to his drenched shirt, “And you warned me, like you always warn me.” A sob-laugh escaped. “I always look for guys that live on the edge, the rebel. I should let you choose my next boyfriend.”
His arms tightened around her back for a moment, making her feel even more secure. “Maybe you should,” his tenor voice dropping.
“I just don’t want to hurt any of your friends’ feelings.” Gwyn explained, glancing at his face a moment before focusing on the drying herbs over the stove. “I know it will happen just like that time in college when I tried to date a nice guy and I ended up jumping into bed with his roommate. I just am not safe for good people.”
Jeremy’s grip loosened in a manner that made her naturally step a little back. “You could try dating me for practice.”
Surprisingly her nipples tightened at the offer and she felt a twinge in her pussy. Gwyn licked her lips before responding. “We dated already, remember.”
Tipping his head to the side to try and capture her eyes that were darting around his immaculate kitchen. “Group dates for pizza don’t count as dating.”
She shook her head, focusing her eyes on the recognizable mortar and pestle among his more exotic kitchen gear. Whispering she said, “I don’t want to lose you. I destroy everything, and you are such a nice person.”
“Not as nice as I should be.” The twenty-six year old said as his hands slipped down a moment to grab her ass before letting it go. “Let’s go get your things from Tonedeaf; you are going to move in with me.”
Gwyn’s head spun a moment. Maybe from the wine, maybe from the surge between her legs when he grabbed her ass, maybe from Jeremy’s sudden taking over the situation. “No, no Jeremy, you shouldn’t. Anthony will still be there. You could get hurt.”
He smiled, evilly, protectively. “Somehow I doubt that.” He picked up his man-purse. Okay, leather-satchel, but Gwyn knew it was just another part of Jeremy’s being a peaceful, kind, safe guy. The purse was filled with stuff from his florist cum health food shop, including ointments he always offered to people when they were out in public. He called it marketing; she called it helping people where you find them.
Jeremy stood by the front door, holding it open so she could see the Gaelic welcome mat and his bright green Prius. Giving up, Gwyn followed him out the door. She guessed it was time to destroy him, as she had every other guy that she had ever touched.
(633 words – originally appearing Sunday Fun on Breathless Press 10/28/12, adjusted slightly and published on old blog on 11/11/2012, republished new blog format 1/8/2017 ** May become base for first story in Novella series on Queen’s City Coven)