Still a little dazed, it took her a few minutes, to unlock her front door. Mrs. McArdle must think I'm half nuts. She thought to herself as she fumbled getting the key in the lock. It was bad enough that she had to do the "Walk of Shame" in last night's clothing, but this morning – like every other Sunday morning – Mrs. McArdle was out bright and early at 8 am tending to her small garden by her mail-box. Her elderly neighbor was kind a sweet, but a bit nosey and a bit of a gossip. Alice was the kind of person who liked to keep to herself most of the time. She had few friends, but they were very close; her family.
Finally, she was able to sink the key in the correct way and unlocked her door to slip inside. Inside where she was confronted by a very MAD Chowder! Her rescued Devon Rex was NOT happy at all! He sat perched in the potted magnolia tree next to the entry way. His sharp black ears, too big for his head, were flattened and his green eyes pierced her dark brown ones. "I'm sorry!" She said. He replied with a loud meow and followed her throughout the house. She went directly to his food dish and filled it with a can of his favorite food and topped it with the little fish shaped treats he likes so much. He ate it still griping in-between bites. She smiled a little half smile as she fixed herself a cup of coffee.
"You know, if you keep talking with your mouth full, you are liable to choke." She mused. The small, pixie like cat glared at her and went back to bitching and eating. Alice giggled and took her coffee with her to the bathroom. She caught her reflection in the mirror. "Ugh. How cute." She was a mess.
Setting her coffee down on the counter, she popped the tub drain and began running hot water and her favorite minty bubble bath was added. She went back to her reflection and noted the bags under her eyes, the soft freckles blushing through the faded foundation and concealer she had put on the night before. She sipped her coffee and removed the black shirt she was still wearing. It smelled like him. She smiled as she pulled it over her head. She must of left her top at his house last night … somewhere. They had been all over the loft, well, nearly. She followed the line of her own pointy jaw and slender neck right down to the curve where her shoulder began.
"Oh my God. He saw the scars." Horrified, she remembered last night, his light nips and kisses down the ebb of her neck. She turned half way around to look at the scars between her shoulder blades, where he had left a myriad of kisses and warm tender grazes. She hadn't even thought of it. There was a reason she wore covering articles of clothing. She hated the scars. What they were; what they reminded her of.
She finished undressing, trying to put those thoughts out of her head and sank in the water. It was wonderful. Warm tingling water covered her. She sunk down, leaving only her nose and eyes above water, only for a few seconds, then came back up to rest her head on the angled slope at the back of the tub. She couldn't stop thinking about him. The way he moved, with her and against her. The way his eyes met hers. The way he suckled her breasts – her hand moved to one nipple and gently folded it over, beaded it between her fingers. The way he teased her – with her other hand, she let it float mindlessly to her swollen pink bud. Oh, the wonderful things that he did to her.
She went off into her own fantasy land of bubbles and bliss until she came again, for the 4th time in less than 12 hours.
"No, Rosalie. Yes. No. You are impossible, you realize that right?" She giggled into the phone as she sat on her sofa sipping hot chocolate and watching the rain. "I'm hanging up the phone now!"
"Wait! Emmett wants to know if you are coming out to the lake with us next weekend for the big camping trip after the ball game? You are still going to the baseball game right, Ms. Mysterious?"
"Of course I am. And possibly camping too. I have to wait and see, I may have other plans."
"Like WHAT? Did you suddenly get a life?"
"Good bye, Rose!" Alice hung up the phone and had to laugh inwardly at her friend. She loved the baseball games that she attended with her friends, but he was defiantly on her mind tonight, almost more than he was last night. What on earth did he have to do this morning anyways? Why did he have to work on a Sunday?
Jasper opened the front door of his loft and walked in. He could still smell her in the air. The musky sent of their adventure last night made his member twinge. She wasn't there though. He figured as much. No chance that a sexy little thing like that would walk into his life and actually stay for once. No way was he that lucky. He walked around the small space and thought about the night before. Where it all started … by the sculpture … waking up in the chair. He was aroused just thinking about it. He walked over to the chair and sat down, something crinkled beneath his weight and he got up and looked down on the cushion. A receipt from the grocery store? He flipped it over in his hand and saw the neat, curved, elegant writing.
I had to go feed my cat and check some stuff back at my house. I think I need to sleep off our good friend Jack today, but I will be back at the bar on Monday at 7 if you would like to meet me for a drink.
- Alice
P.S. If you want my number, you better be there.
Oh, he would be there, for sure. But for tonight, he would just have to take matters into his own hands.
After his "solo session" in the shower, Jasper came out – still dripping wet – and laid down on the couch.
"That would have been interesting," he thought to himself imagining literally bending the little fay woman over backwards against the arm-rest of his tattered couch. He didn't dare call it a sofa, his old man would have smacked him for being prissy. He couldn't get that girl out of his head. Broyles had even called him out on it this morning.
As they sat in the brush, waiting for their mark, he had chuckled to himself, thinking of how she was so bendy last night. How miffed she had been this morning when she woke up. She hadn't known it, but he hadn't slept. He had stayed up all night wondering about those scars. He knew she had to of been hiding something when that tight little body walked up to the bar wearing a turtle neck tank-top. The satin chords down the side made it sexy as hell, but damn, it was so concealing. They had been so into it last night, he didn't think that she thought about taking it off. As a matter of fact, he doesn't remember when it came off, but it did. And he saw them. There was a series of three perfect circles on the side of her neck near her collar bone, just above that sweet little dip of skin. If he would have taken out a sharpie and drawn a line connecting the marks, it would have made a perfect triangle. It wasn't something self-inflicted, he was sure, but nothing that was accidental – he was positive of that. He had kissed them, each one of them; as if it would help the pain go away.
Then minutes later, when she was riding him reverse in his chair, he saw the ones on her back, between her shoulder blades. These were more dash-like, again, too perfect not to be accidental.
"What kind of hell have you been through, darling?" He mused to himself.
His questions would just have to wait until Monday. Monday at 7 when he would see her again.
