The Shirt
Agent Shaw was missing and breakfast was quickly forgotten as they hurried to dress and
get out the door. When she was dressed, Kate met him downstairs and handed back the
sweatpants and t-shirt that she had borrowed . She thanked him for giving her a place to
stay for the night. He just smiled as took them from her and carried them back into his room
to throw them into the laundry hamper in the master bath. He lifted the lid and hesitated a
second before dropping them in. Only the pants fell inside; the shirt stayed in his hand. He
didn't quite know why. As stood there staring at the simple red cotton t-shirt, he finally
realized it was because she had worn it. It was his shirt, and she had slept in it. He didn't
know what to do with it. He walked back into the bedroom holding the shirt carefully in his
hands like the priceless artifact that it was, at least to him anyway. Crap, she was waiting!
He hurried over to his bed and hastily stuffed it under his pillow. He would deal with it later.
Later didn't come for another eighteen hours. When he arrived home he was exhausted,
and he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. He woke up early the next morning
feeling frustrated, and he laid there on his back thinking about how she had invaded his
dreams all night long, and not in a good way. Even in his dreams she managed to evade
him. Every time he made a move to touch her hand, to kiss her lips or hold her in his arms
she would suddenly disappear, leaving him alone. Dammit! Why did his dreams have to be
like reality? Lucky at cards, unlucky in love, that old phrase seemed destined to become his
motto.
He rolled over on his side and glanced at the clock glowing on his nightstand. It was only
6:05. He didn't need to get up for another hour, maybe he could go back to sleep and
not dream about her this time. He reached up to adjust his pillow further under his neck and
that's when he felt it…the shirt that he had forgotten. He could smell her as he pulled it out
from beneath his pillow. Was this was the reason she had tormented him all night? This balled
up pea had bruised his ego through his pillow, and now he ached all over. He ached all over
for her.
After a few seconds, the ache seemed to concentrate itself between his legs. He reached down
and squeezed himself through the comforter and sheets. What the hell was he going to do, push
it back in? That was impossible. He rolled over onto his back with one hand holding on to himself
and the other still holding on to the shirt. Why did he have to go and put it under his pillow? Why
couldn't he have just throw it into the hamper and forgotten about it? The shirt lay on his chest and
he held it tightly in his hand. He should just toss it aside, throw it across the room and be done
with it, but his big brain lost the battle with his little brain, and his hand brought the shirt up to his
face. He buried his nose in it and breathed deeply. God! Her smell crawled inside and possessed
him, and now there was only one was to be rid of it.
He threw the covers off and grabbed hold of the hard on that was jutting out from the flap of his
boxers. He gave himself another squeeze. Shit! He wanted her, not this! But she was the one thing
in his life that he had no control over, not even now. Even now she was in control. He breathed her in
again as he began stroking himself. He thought of her hair and how it must feel to have a handful in
one hand as he caressed her flawless face with his other. He would run his thumb across her lips
before he pulled her into a kiss that explored her very being.
Kate.
He imagined how his hands would tremble as he unbuttoned her blouse and ran a hand across that
black lacy bra that he had once glimpsed. He would remove her bra and the swell of her breasts
would fill his hands as he played with her hardening nipples.
Kate.
Her touch would set him afire as she removed his shirt and ran her hands across his chest and down
his stomach, stopping at his belt. He would feel the tug as she pulled on the belt to loosen the prong.
She would pop the button on his pants and it would seem like an eternity before the zipper reached
its end. That trip downward would be the first time her hand would touch him. He would be so hard.
Kate.
Once she removed his pants and boxers, he would be ready to explode. It would be all he could do
to restrain himself from ripping the rest of her clothes from her body. He certainly wouldn't hesitate
to lay her down and peel the form fitting jean from her incredibly long gorgeous legs. He would
leave her panties behind as one last present to unwrap. The tiny thong she wore would leave
nothing to his imagination.
Kate.
Unwrapping his final gift would surely take his breath away. He would probably stare, in awe of her
beauty, before he moved in to lay beside her. He would pull her tight and feel the warmth of her skin
as radiated into his and the softness of her tongue as it teased. He would rub against her, letting her
feel what he had to offer, and she would moan his name.
Rick.
She sound of his name coming breathlessly from her lips would almost be his undoing. His mouth would find
her breast and his hand would seek her warmth. He would make sure she was ready for him as he touched,
fondled and rubbed her till she was writhing in pleasure beside him and he forced his name from her lips yet
again.
Rick!
Her scent from the shirt was intoxicating and the speed and the friction as he stroked himself increased.
He was almost home. She was ready. Why did it have to be his hand? Why couldn't it be her hand, or better yet,
her mouth? The fantasy of him making love to her was gone in an instant as the image of her lips around
him took control of his mind.! It was all he could think of. The pressure of her lips sliding downward and the
suction of her mouth as she pulled back, followed by the titillation of her tongue as she played withhis tip
and the sweet smacking sound when she released him would be incredible. The anticipation of their return
would surely bring a tear and being able to watch her lips as they slid back down would probably be more
than he could take. The things her tongue would do when she took him all the way in would be maddening
and he would feel his balls tighten in anticipation of their release as she ran a finger across their sweet spot.
Kate.
She would become a succubus trying to suck the life force out of him, but he wouldn't care. The sweet release
she was working to extract from him and take into herself would be all that mattered. She would take him, she
would take him all. Oh god!
"Kate!"
He was surprised by the intensity of that release. His body went rigid and his toes dug into the mattress and he
could feel the warm sticky wetness as it ran down the back of his hand. Fuck! What did he just do? It was amazing
how fast his mind went from sin to shame after it was over. He threw the shirt across the room and quickly headed
to the bathroom to wash away the evidence. As he stood in the shower, he berated himself. Dammit! Why did he
have to do that to her? Even if it was all in his mind, he felt like he had just used her.
The hot shower seemed to ease the tension and wash some of the guilt away. He busied himself with getting
dressed and tried to forget what he'd done. He pulled on his blazer and as he turned towards his night stand
to collect his phone, wallet and keys he couldn't help but notice the shirt lying on the floor. Pick the damn thing
up and throw it in the hamper this time! When he reached down and picked it up, he could smell her again. He
turned to the night stand to collect his things, but first, he slid the t-shirt back under his pillow. He didn't have
a choice. He was an addict. He was addicted to her and he couldn't let it go. Besides, he told himself, the chance
of actually being with her would probably never come.