BTW, I have not made any kind of profit in the making, publishing or posting of this story. This is purely for creative purposes.
PLOT: Playwright John Peter's vacation plans went sideways when the country went on Covid-19 lockdown. The girl he literally met by accident is on lockdown with him. How does he avoid cabin fever for 14 days and control the strong attraction he feels for her? (Slow burn, romance, friendship, angst. Might develop into a relationship)
Warning: I use a lot of profanity for this story.
Note: 1. Pedro Pascal is the inspiration for this story. (Of course) 2. I named her Aize /ayz/ or /eyes/
Chapter Song: Through the Fire- Chaka Khan (It was playing on my playlist as I write this chapter.)
HIDING PLACE FROM HELL
CHAPTER 18
QD5
Everyone needs a place to retreat;
a spot where the world goes quiet enough for the soul to speak..
-Angie Weiland Crosby
The big clock ticked….35 minutes.
It had been thirty-five minutes since Aize stopped crying. My shirt had dried of her tears. Things were quiet around the house and we haven't moved from the floor.
There was a quick flash of white…
I held Aize a little tighter when she got startled by the thunder. More lighting came and the thunder wouldn't allow it to be outdone. The clay tiles at the patio were dotted with dark spots. One drop became three. It was a gentle shower at the beginning but the taps from the heavens opened and it poured until it was deafening. Maybe the sky is crying with us.
The house darkened when the power failed but my chin didn't move from its rest on top of Aize's head and she didn't stir from her nest in my chest and in the curve of my arms.
There's nothing to be said. Our grief spoke for us.
I finally buried that ghost that's been following me but she will be there. She knows I will love her forever. I lost her before I knew what she meant in my life. Too young to remember who she is as a person but I remember looking up when she called my name, a big smile on her face and her hand reaching for mine. I remember a blue cake with candles, playing plastic boats in the bathtub during my bath…but she is welcome to haunt me from time to time. Perhaps someday I would be surprised to look into my mother's eyes or see her smile or hear her laughter from one of my kids or grandkids.
I look down at the spent woman in my arms….
I cannot speak for Aize; she has been living with her ghosts in this house perhaps even deriving some strength…or torment, from their presence. She might see a glimpse of a past from a corner of the house or recall a trail of a conversation at a certain time of the day or date. I remember her haunted eyes on that night; the night when I wanted to leave. She had seen one of them in my room. Yes, she sees the beloved phantoms everywhere her eyes lays on…in the room of the brother that she tried so hard to save, she sees her parents who didn't approve of her chosen career.
So she talked to the ghosts. Haltingly, between sobs, she told them of her grief, the regret… She thought she had time; time to apologize, time to change her mind, time for one last hug, time for one last call…she didn't get any of it.
The weight of her decisions and the last heated exchange she had with her father is a guilt that had been bearing down on her heart like a dagger.
A decade of guilt.
Shit….that's my play….Fuck!
"I should get up." Aize sniffed and blew her nose on the pizza tissue I handed her.
"No." I embraced her a little tighter.
"You might get back cramps again."
"Fuck back cramps."
"John….thank you. Again."
"You're welcome." I grin at her. "Again."
"I'm okay now."
"Good."
Aize reached up to rub her temple. "But now I have a headache. Shit!"
I took her hand and pinched the joint between the forefinger and thumb very hard.
"Oww! What the fuck, John!"
"Wait." I grip her wrist as I apply more pressure to the soft tissue.
She punched me on the shoulder, "It hurts!"
"That's the idea!"
"You sadist!"
"Stop squirming or else…" I drawled and gave her a leer. That instantly froze her but she started whimpering…blasted girl! I let her go after two minutes.
"Shit! Oh my God! Look at the bruise!"
"How's your headache?" I lean back with a smug face.
"Gone…. " she said. "But this hurts…"
I sighed with an eye roll, "Too bad. I have no remedy for that…." I felt her shift and move up. I got wide-eyed when her lips landed firmly on mine. She pushed me until I could feel the trim of the couch on my back. Hands cup my head as she gives me soft kisses on the lips, my chin, on both cheeks…. "Aize…uh…wait…" I grab her hips to stop her from straddling me. It didn't work; one look at her eyes and I gave in. With a small smile she swung her leg over. I closed my eyes when her weight settled on me, the warmth from between her legs met the warmth between mine.
"Don't you want this?" she whispers in my ear; a warm hand slide inside the collar of my shirt, followed by urgent lips and teeth that nibbled on the skin there. The other slides down my side until it lifted the end of my shirt then slowly…so very slowly slid up the bare skin… the hand stopped when her hand cupped and stroked….oh fuck….
"Yeah, I do…." I gasp…my voice thick…my throat dry….my body shivering. "You know I do. But…" I closed my eyes, breathing unsteady. Soft lips and wet tongue kiss and lick its burning path from my neck to the center of my chest as she unbuttons my shirt. "Please wait…" I shivered when she loosened the last button. I glance down as her hand settle on the buckle. She seemed delighted at how my abs would twitch every time her nails gently graze the skin above the belt.
"Wait for what?" she whispered, tongue tracing the underside of my chin. She peered up at me while a smile tugs at the corner of her lips. We both groaned as her knees slid wider lowering her further to the juncture of our hips. I love that….
"Think about…." I couldn't finish as her lips came back on mine. She pushed the shirt off my shoulders and wrapped her arms behind me. Oh God…I helplessly went with her as those strong arms pulled me up our bodies as one and shed my shirt entirely. By the way, I must point out that she never stopped kissing me. No one has ever lavished that much kisses….
"Good…" she raked her fingers in my hair stopping the kiss briefly to say, "Stop thinking."
"Won't you regret this?"
"Why? Are you bad at..." she leaned me back to the seat.
"I mean, you're emotional today...this might..." I jerked in pleasure when her mouth found the...what's it called...it's on my chest...oh my god...what...is that she's doing? My head fell all the way back to the seat both hands grip the arms of the chair. I realized I was the one making those sounds in my throat. I've never heard myself make them and I've never had attention given to my nipples the way she's giving it. Like a painter's brush her tongue lightly stroke the small nub then she'd suck it so slowly in her mouth. She gave the other nipple the same mind-blowing attention.
I was floating on that cloud where my attention is lost by what her mouth was doing to my chest when I gasped loud. She held me through the fabric of my black jeans. My hips came up in reaction. It knows where to go to find relief from her sensuous assault. Our eyes met as she stroked its covered length. That dark look of craving and lust in her eyes left me so weak. I almost lost control…
"Now why would I do this if it's not out of emotion, John?" she moved back just enough space so her fingers could slide the strap off the buckle…then release the button of the pants. The bulge there is getting more painful as it grows, wanting to become free. She gave me another heated look before going back down to the undone button….one pull….
"Aize...wait." In a burst of atypical clear logic from me I grabbed her hands. "Damn it! Listen...I don't want you to regret this!"
"No…let me go, John." she begged through sultry half-lidded eyes. "Let me. Please." She pushed me gently back when my hands loosened at her wrists in surrender. "Thank you." She said before she took my hands and placed it on her. "Your turn."
=O=O=
John…..John….!
"I don't want you to regret this…" I murmured.
"John…hey…!"
"Is it my turn?" I grab the hand urgently shaking my shoulder.
"Huh? Turn for what?"
"Uh…huh?" I open my eyes. "Huh?"
"John, help me! They're getting wet!"
"Wet?" I look up at her with a frown. Drops of water from her hair fell on my arm and chest. Why is she wet?
"Get up!" A cold hand pulled me up. She left my wet dream, fuzzy, confused and throbbing ass standing in the middle of the living room.
"I'm already up…" But instead of ravaging me in passion and lust she ran to the patio, barefoot, and grabbed one the black cases on the table. "….what?!"
It's raining hard.
"Fuck!" I run out to the rain and grabbed the heaviest and biggest case on the table, bare feet almost slipping on the slick terracotta tiles. I put the case down under the eaves and went back for another. The raindrops were falling heavy and hard. They felt solid; like bullets hitting my scalp, my shoulders and back. I was already drenched to the skin by the time I carried the second case in. Aize had already gotten three of the smaller cases inside before she woke me up.
Aize stepped past me with a smaller case in her arms. "Shit!" she shrieked as her foot slipped on a moss covered tile.
"Whoa!" I swung to grab her with both arms, legs wide apart for balance but I couldn't wrap my arms around her fully with the bulky case in front of her. Aize purposely twisted so she would land on her back. I heard the pained gasp. "Aize!" the case slid on the tiles. I help her as she was getting up, a pale hand grip her front. "Are you okay?" I shout through the din. She took a deep breath, fingers rubbing a spot on her chest. She nodded but something is wrong. "Stay here!" I held out a hand and she nodded again, stepping back into the house.
I finish grabbing two of the long dark cases lining them just inside the living room. "Aize?" I called but I only found an empty living room. "Aize!" I called louder. I look at the floor and follow her footprints inside. The wet prints lead me to the right side of the house. "There you are..." My smile froze. I found her leaning against the door of the towel cabinet standing in a pool of water. "Aize?"
"P...pain..." she stutters. I can now see what she was trying to hide in the patio.
"Pain?" I grab her arms. "Where?"
"Chest…" She gasped then she began to slide limply down...
"Shit!" I swung her up in my arms and took careful steps up the stairs. I'm also tracking water and the floor is already effing slippery. I slammed into the door but all I got was a bruised shoulder.
"Go. I'll open…" Aize wheezed, pointing to the door. I moved closer for her to reach the knob.
"Fuck!" We both said as a blast of cold air from the AC hit us. Aize shivered and tightened in a ball in my arms. "Sorry." I gently deposited Aize on the bed, quickly found the remote on my table and lowered the arctic temperature. On the bed, Aize is struggling to wrap the comforter around her shoulders. "Don't move!" She let go and I laid it on her hunched shoulders.
"Call Ben,' she whispered between trembling lips.
"We need a doctor, not Ben." I unbuttoned my shirt, slid the sopping material off and threw it in the sink of the bathroom. I went to the closet and took my own robe. "Do you know any doctor here?" Her eyes fell on my chest then dropped to my belt and below that before looking away.
She nodded, "In my phone…"
"Where is it?"
"Dining table," she pointed, a slim finger peeking from the depth of the blanket.
"I'll be back. Don't move." I headed out and carefully avoided the dangerous spots of water on the way. The black phone is on the table. Thank God she still has no lock placed on it. I scrolled through her contacts and found one under 'D'.
"Hi, Aize?" The person on the other line sounded surprised and said something half Spanish and local.
"Uh sorry. This is not Aize. This is…" I hesitated for a second, "her husband."
"Oh! Hi! Nice to…"
"Doc, Aize is hurt…"
"Hurt? How?"
"She fell and her chest hurts. She's having some breathing problems…" I slowly made my way back to my room.
"Okay, I will be there. Fifteen minutes!"
Aize is curled up like a cocoon on the bed. She opened her eyes on my footsteps. "The doctor is on his way," I said. I deposited towels and a bathrobe for her by her head.
"Who?"
"Dr. Santos." These Spanish surnames were so comfortingly familiar for me.
"He was Ross's doctor," she breathed.
I frowned. I don't like the sound of her voice; it's getting strained. "Aize, get out of those wet clothes."
"I'll shower in my room."
"Do it here." I pushed my bathroom door open. "Now. You'll get pneumonia this way."
"Yes, doc." She got up slowly and shuffled with me directly behind her with towels and a robe. "I'll be okay." she looks small inside the bathroom. What she means is that 'go away, I'll manage.'
I open the shower stall, "In. Quickly or I'll do it."
She made a protesting sound in her throat, "You. Go out."
I chuckled at her glare. "Fine. Be quick. Holler, capisce?" I heard her mutter something vulgar in Italian to the 'capisce' as I leave the door ajar. Grinning, I went to her bathroom grabbed one bra, her boyleg undie, a hoodie and sweatpants.
I returned quickly although I'd like to stay longer in there but my stubborn patient needs supervision and a little bit of bullying. I quietly open the door a crack and put her clothes on the counter beside the door.
Then I made a mistake.
I looked.
=O=0=X=O=0=