Butler Goes Southern Style
A/N Butler gets his groove on Southern style. Butler/OC Smutty McSmutt Smutt in Chapter 2. You are warned. Fun scene. Complete. Please read and review.
Knock Knock. She stood silently before the doorway her heart pounding, barely daring to breath. She was standing barefoot on the cold tile floor shifting around trying not to be jumpy. She anxiously fingered the envelope, slapping it against her thigh. The chilly night air felt good against her thin pajamas. The door opened spilling light softly into the hallway. "Yes?" Butler asked. Staring down at her curiously. He had been immersed in the book he held at his side.
"May I come in?" She asked.
All thoughts of returning to his book vanished.
With a puzzled look the large man stepped back from the doorway and gestured inside. "How can I help you Madame Caine?"
"Ummmm. I just wanted to talk if that's ok."
He closed his book and laid it down on the bed She noted that it was a modern thriller not the expected classic. He gestured to a comfortable couch.
"Won't you sit down?"
With her back to the door, she stammered "No thanks - I just wanted to ask you something."
His blue eyes pierced her. She could smell him from five feet away and noted that his hair was wet from a shower. His aftershave reminded her of swimming in the ocean at night.
His head cocked to one side, "All right, Madame Cain," he nodded at himself. He was wearing a pair black pajama bottoms and a flannel shift loosely buttoned. "Excuse my appearance. I wasn't expecting company.". He towered over her easily , his well defined muscles bulging under the straining shirt.
She smiled and moved closer. He eyed her curiously. She was a visitor who rarely stayed in the manor except at night. As head of Security, he was familiar with her background, and believed her to be a benign presence in the household.
"How can I help you tonight?" he inquired.
She twisted her lips and reached inside for courage. "You've come this far," she whispered to herself, "do it, don't back down."
He could see she was conflicted. "Madame?" he asked.
She had this grand speech planned. It was rehearsed in her head but all that sputtered out was "I wanted to see if ….." she paused and looked at the floor. He had a magnificent green rug with red roses woven into the borders. It covered most of the floor under the bed and in the sitting area by the fireplace. Time seem to have slowed down. Idly she noticed that he had a curio shelf full of books but no visible TV.
"Can we sit?" she asked, and crossed the space in between them grasped his hand and drew him towards the couch. "Let's sit for a sec'.
He looked surprised but allowed the small woman to lead him to his couch. He glanced at the fire and noted that the logs he had just applied appeared to be blazing and were bathing the room in a cozy glow.
He sat beside her on the couch. She surprised him by impulsively reaching out and holding his hand. She felt warm and he wasn't sure that it was entirely the fire to blame.
She had butterflies in her stomach. "Look" she paused stumbling, "The thing is". She looked down, giving herself a minute to gather her courage.
He sensed her struggle and sat calmly looking at her face waiting for her. He suspected there was more to the story, but the staff were briefed that Mrs. Cain's husband had been killed recently in a car wreck. She and her two young children were visiting Ireland to recover from the violent blow to their family. She seemed a strong woman. She held her head high and kept her children busy.
He smiled to himself as he held her warm hand waiting for her words. He remembered their first day in Ireland. She had asked for directions to the nearest ASDA/Wal-Mart and borrowed the keys to the garden truck. He was amused when she returned with three bikes in the rear of the truck. Two were put together, but the last bike, one for the smaller girl was still in the box. She had set up a table in the garage and worked on putting it together for two days. The second day, he had passed the library and noted the two girls napping on the rug in front of the TV. He gently pulled a warm blanket over their little forms and turned up the heat. They were from Florida and were not accustomed to chilly weather.
While on security rounds, he listened at the garage door. Mrs. Cain was swearing at the bicycle. She had a vast and creative list of things that should be done to the people who authored the bicycle instructions. Her vehement curses brought a smile to his lips.
His impulse was to help her put the bike together, but instinctively he knew that this was something she needed to do. He knew that the her dead husband should have been in the garage swearing over the bike, and somehow putting this bike together was a step in Mrs. Cain 's bereavement process.
Dragging himself back to the present, he gazed down at her hand and turned sideways facing her on the couch.
She began shyly, "Would you be interested, possibly, maybe,' she grimaced. Shyly, she stammered, "I think I better start over."
He studied her face wondering what she needed. A thought tickled at the back of his mind. A throwaway thought that could never be uttered or given real substance. The way she was holding his hand, the curve of her shoulders under the thin pajama top, goodness, he realized with a start, she was in her pajamas.
He was sure she just needed someone to talk to. The manor was empty, except for the her children and six year old Aretmis all sound asleep. Angela & Fowl Sr. his parents, were in the South of France until next week.
He surreptitiously breathed in her scent. Her hair smelled like kiwi. She was not his type, but why did he feel so comfortable with her in his room?
She took a deep breath. "Would you be interested in a no-string-attached, swear to God never to tell a soul, physical only sex?"
His eyes widened in amazement, and he froze. 'Unexpected.' He thought.
She shook a little but managed to look him straight in eyes. "I'm not looking for a romance, it's just - I need to…" she paused looking down.
He saw her long lashes were holding back tears. "I mean you are so… you are such a man…' She finished lamely. She stilled biting her lips and desperately searching for any sign from his stone countenance.
He blinked in confusion. Why even entertain the thought? His brain screamed No! This should not happen. She was a guest of the manor for God's sake. He had to tread very carefully. But why was he even considering her proposal? One night of passion, with her in his bed filling his arms caressing her body and oh, the sweet release of a night of love….. He remembered and missed making love more at that moment than in the years since his lover had died.
All these thoughts rapidly flashed across his brain in in instant.
She pulled her hand from his and stood up, feet sinking into the plush rug. She hung her head low and anxiously started backing towards the door, her face flushed with embarrassment. Before she got two steps quickly treading towards the door, he stood and grabbed her hand. "Madame Cain," he took a breath searching for words.
Her stomach clenched in fear. Fear of being accepted. Fear of being turned down. She interrupted him. "I understand if I'm not your type, it's ok, I'll just… let myself out and we'll pretend this never happened". His heart clenched.
She backed towards his door and raised her eyes to meet his.
"Look, I'm sorry," she murmured. "I promise I won't breath a word of this. I shouldn't have come here. It's just that… I have never been with another man besides my husband and, and I'm…. lonely". The word dripped from her lips like it was a curse. It was a shameful admission that cost her dearly. Her head hung low, as she gently pulled away from his eyes to his door. She looked so sad
Hastily he stood up and put his large hand behind her back and pulled her to his chest. His deep voice rumbled softly in her ear. "I think that you are needing more than just mindless sex". She trembled under his calming touch. She held her breath, waiting. He held her close his arms around her. Her scent was defiantly Ivory and perhaps a touch of something vanilla?
She breathed him in, conscious of the hard chest rippling with muscles and the trim waist she was pressed against. This was nice. Even if it lasted a moment, she thought it was worth the humiliation of coming to his room late at night offering herself.
I can't sent her out like this, it wouldn't be right, besides, shouldn't I help her, counsel her or…..? He tried to sort his jumbled thoughts. All he knew for sure, was she felt wonderful and fit just right in his arms.
He made a decision. "I'll make ye a deal". When he was emotional, his childhood accent took over. "Ye sit with me and let me hold ye and talk to ye tonight." He paused looking in her eyes "I thin' ye be needing something more tonigh than j' some, umm, release?"
Deliberately tucking an errant curl behind her ear, giving himself time to carefully choose his next words, he licked his lips and cupped her face in his hand. "So spend tonight talking to me, let me comfort ye, and if ye still wan' a make love," he paused, peering closely into her blue eyes, "there's always tomorrow." Unbidden silent tears brimmed from her eyes.
"And, yes, ye are my type". As his thumbs traced lightly across her lips, he wryly thought 'you're a woman….'
But he answered himself silently with a question. 'There's something different about this.' It wasn't just the tragic aspect of the woman. It wasn't just her obvious loneliness and despair, but something stirred deep within him. It felt good to hold someone and be…. needed.
Was it as simple as that? He put aside the thought and enveloped her in his strong arms and easily lifted her lightweight frame from the floor. "Jeeze', he thought, she hardly weighs anything. He noticed for the first time how small she was. Her personality had made her seem somehow taller.
He settled on the couch and pulled her into his lap. Her tears wet his chest as he held her. She sniffled. "I didn't mean to do that. Sorry." She was enjoying his embrace. She hugged him closer. "It's just that I've always been good at cheering myself up and I sorta thought a crazy night with a big sexy guy might do the trick."
Inside his ego was standing at attention, 'did she just say 'big sexy guy?'
She sniffed and gave a short laugh, I even brought, ummm…" She gingerly handed him the envelope. "You know… Ummm those things". He looked curiously into the envelope and gave an amused snort when he recognized condoms. A smile spread across his face and he reconsidered this woman in his lap.
I wonder how it would feel to have a Southern woman?
Her words coming out in a rush. "I, uh," she pointed to the envelope. "I'm still on birth control, but I brought them, just so," she paused, " ya know what's what. You know, so you can feel safe."
He stroked his fingers through her chestnut brown hair. It felt like silk as it smoothly slid through his fingers.
They talked for hours. He told her about his training days, in Switzerland and exotic places. She told him about watching football games in the rain, screaming for their team until she and Adam were hoarse, and their dog dying, and joy that was mixed with sorrow.
He held her as she laid on the couch snuggled up close sheltered under his strong arms. "You know," she said. "I thought you were this big freaky scary guy when I first saw you."
"Oh?" he murmured, running a soothing finger down her spine.
"But then I saw you watching my kids. You were..."
"Yes?" he prompted.
"You were soft. It wasn't just a 'are they being annoying, or destructive stare."
"No. What kind of look do you mean?" he asked.
"It was... like..." She shifted to look him in the face, comfortable encircled in his arms. "It was like you enjoyed looking at them. At them as children. It wasn't just your job to make sure they were secure here, it was like you had a quiet moment of pure enjoyment."
He bent his face down and kissed her softly on the lips. She responded instantly. He pulled back and peered in her eyes.
"Forgive me. I couldn't help myself." He murmured.
She shyly smiled and wrapped his face in her strong sensuous fingers. "Forgive me first." She said as he thrust her tongue between his lips.
His arms clenched tightly around her Their tongues were darting through the exquisite sloppy heat of a first kiss. He pulled her so close he could feel her hard nipples pressing through the thin material on her pajamas. One hand clenched in her hair holding her face beneath his as he kissed her with a ferocity that startled them both. His hope began to be realized in his pants.
He pushed her down beside him on the couch. Ugly dog, cook sweating in kitchen, liver for dinner, cook in a bikini, he let his mind wander to stop his natural reaction to having a woman in his arms. He put a protective arm around her as she sat next to him hugging her arms around her legs.
"That was ….. nice" she murmured smiling. She rested her chin on her knees and eyed him. "Are you this nice to all the crazy women who bang on your door every night?". He chuckled.
They talked and stirred the fire. Sabrina was very good at coaxing happy memories from Butler. She told him about a book she was editing and about how the children were driving her crazy. How she finally got the bicycle put together then it rained for three days straight. He laughed at her stories and felt so comfortable talking with her and…. Alive and…. Aching for more…
She was facing him on the couch sipping from a glass of water.
Southern woman… Am I looking forward to tomorrow? Will she want to...?
He was watching the slight movement of her breasts and felt himself growing with a male hunger.
How can this be? She's not yours. She belongs to someone else. Belonged. He's dead. She needs someone. She needs …. Me.
"I don't want…. I don't want to leave without…." She calmly put the glass on the end table and started stroking his chest.
He felt the welcomed warmth of her hand. Oh, more, please more…
Her nimble hands quickly unbuttoned his shirt and tugged on it. Unthinking, he leaned forward and helped her remove the shirt.
Don't take advantage of this grieving woman…. Stop this dangerous game now.
She leaned in and kissed him, then started nibbling and kissing his ear. Her hands went to the front of his pants and started gently rubbing him. Her tongue went inside his ear.
Don't… She wants to feel good…. What's wrong with feeling good…? He's dead…
He gently pushed her back, easily holding her. "Wait a minute" he said smiling. "What about the deal? Think about it."
Don't think….
Say yes….
"Get some rest and tomorrow… ye can make up ye mind."
She responded by straddling his lap resting her weight on her knees and passionately kissing him.
Yes…. Yes…
He confidently pulled her in, cupping her breast in his hand urgently gripping her arm.
She sat up for a moment and checked his watch. "It's almost midnight - that's technically tomorrow right? " He roared with laughter and she smiled.
I'm going to…
She cocked her head smiling as he snaked his hands under her pajama top.
Have a Southern woman…
"The first time I saw you , you took my breath away". She breathed in his ear. "I can't believe how gorgeous you are. I mean guys are…. but you… wow." she ran her fingers over his torso. With an air of impatience, she pulled her pj top over her head and tossed it on the floor.
What have I been waiting on….? It's been too long….
His breath caught in his throat. In the flickering firelight her exposed beauty drew out his beast. He seized her breast pulling her up and drawing it into his mouth. She trembled as she drew her fingers through his hair.
What am I doing? I can't do this to this guest of the manor! God damn it, I'm a gentleman. I don't engage in… fuck…. ummm….. How did that get in my mouth…..
His internal struggle culminated as he pulled back and looked her straight in the face.
"Madame Cain, are you sure you want me to….?" She arched her eyebrows and pulled him to the bed. "I think you can call me Sabrina."