*I do not own anything you recognize*
So thanks to AlleyCat for pointing out my colossal fuck up. Sorry to any of you who pulled this up before. I have too many things going at once.
I need to thank Voracious_Bitch for listening to me ramble through my ideas for this piece. Let me know if anyone is interested in more. Enjoy.
It is exactly six pm when Tia Connery snaps the clasp on her leather briefcase closed and flicks off the lights in her office. She says a quick goodbye to Suzie and heads for the door. She stops by the front reception desk to straighten a stack of fliers advertising a new retreat for some of the more mobile patients. It's been three years since she took over the directorship of Blooming Acres Nursing Home and it's been a struggle to turn the place into more than somewhere the old come to die.
Tia enjoys the elderly. They're calm and quiet and she can relate to their desire to see things stay the same. She'd started working at the nursing home ten years before in an attempt to pay for her own grandmother's stay. When her grandmother died Tia'd thought about leaving but the money had been good and it wasn't long before Peggy, the director at the time was pushing her to move up in the ranks. Tia had taken the suggestions seriously and she'd gone back to school, first for her nursing degree and then for a Masters of Health Administration. When Peggy retired three years before Tia had been the obvious choice for new director and she'd settled into the plush office comfortably.
The fliers now straightened, Tia heads for the door, smiling at the incoming night staff on her way out. She wants to get home and sit down for a nice dinner before starting on the stack of paperwork tucked safely in her case. She crosses the parking lot towards her yellow VW bug convertible and huffs a bit when she notices a squished cigarette butt on the asphalt. She recognizes the brand as the one she always finds around after Happy Lowman's visits. She doesn't understand the man but she loves his mother. Tia can't place exactly what it is but there's something about Noreen Lowman that's reminiscent of her own grandmother. She's devastated that the woman has taken a turn for the worse, the garden room was the least she could do. She'd seen the anger in Happy's eyes over the charity but Tia wasn't going to sit by and let Noreen slip away without doing everything she could to make the matriarch peaceful.
It's a twenty minute drive to the upscale town homes where she lives and Tia makes the drive in silence. She pulls into spot 32 in the underground parking garage and heads for the elevators. It's a short walk down the third floor hallway to door 32 and she spends the time pulling out her color coded key ring. The director's position came with a wealth of new keys and the only way the brunette had found to keep them straight was organizing them all by color and size. She pulls out the green key for home and pushes into her neat little apartment.
Some might call her type A and others OCD but Tia just likes to think of herself as organized. She tries to keep her world in shades of black and white, everything has a place and it keeps her sane to make sure it stays that way. She drops the keys into the bowl on the side table in the foyer, hangs her coat on the assigned hook and lowers her briefcase to it's usual spot on the floor. The town home is small but well appointed with gleaming white walls and high crown molding. She'd gone a bit wild and bought a red sofa on a whim just after she'd gotten her promotion and it's still the only real spot of color in the place. Everything else is done up in muted shades, it's a calm place, it's her place.
The master bedroom is just off the main living area and she heads that way already pulling her dark locks down from their confining bun. She wants to get out of these scrubs and into her pajamas immediately. She's just turned into the darkened room when the hand grabs her around the throat and she finds herself pushed up against the wall, confronted with a pair of familiar black eyes.
"You think it's okay to wait a week before telling a man his Ma's dying." Happy's voice is like gravel and she can just make out the firm line of his mouth in the poorly lit space. She swallows hard under his hand.
"You've been gone two months. I didn't want to call with the news. If you hadn't come soon I would have." He just nods and Tia can hear her heartbeat in her ears.
"That PC bullshit wasn't very nice zorra." Tia rolls her eyes at his use of the dirty Spanish endearment and it earns her a shake.
"Suzie listens through the intercom. I can't have her thinking you're anything special." He growls at that and Tia tries and fails to look defiant.
"Been gone two months and you've forgotten what I can do to you." His face is dangerously close now and she can smell smoke and leather. She swallows again but she feels the hand on her throat let up just a bit.
"I haven't forgotten." Her voice is a whine and his liquid eyes never waiver.
"Seems like you might need a reminder." His lips come down on hers with bruising force and she surges into him immediately. The hand around her throat reaches back to tangle in her hair and he pulls her off the wall towards him.
She comes up on her toes to get her arms around his neck and she can feel him hard against her stomach. His hand slides from her hair down her back and she feels both big palms grip her ass before her feet leave the floor. She wraps her legs around his waist and continues to kiss him back with everything she's got, her nails digging into the back of his neck. She knows he's turning them towards the bed and she hears his big boots shuffle over her white carpet. When he drops her on the mattress it's with enough bounce to knock a picture from the night stand. Tia winces at the sound of breaking glass and she looks up to see him smiling ferally above her. He loves coming into her ordered world and making a mess.
She doesn't have long to worry though before he's on her again, kneeling between her legs on the bed his big hands tugging at the bottom of her scrub top. It comes off easy and she hates the way he throws it over his shoulder without a care. He takes off his own shirt and leather vest and Tia doesn't miss the way the vest is the only thing that gets any care as he carefully lays it front down on the chest at the foot of the bed. He turns back to her and tugs at her pants and shoes. She lets him strip her until she's in just her bra and panties, she doesn't miss his grin at the matching white set.
"You're such a prude." His eyes are dark and his smile it toothy but she's got nothing to say in response. She is a prude, for everyone but him. His eyes are sliding down her body and she takes his distraction as an opportunity to do her own looking. He's covered in ink and the mess of bright colors look painfully out of place in her neat bedroom. There's a new smiley face over his hip and she wonders, not for the first time, what they mean. Every time she asks he just brushes her off. Her fingers come out of their own accord to trail over the collection of grins and it's like she's broken a trance. He's on her instantly, shoving her down on her back, his lips sliding up her neck.
His fingers run up her sides and he pushes her bra up and out of the way. Like always she has no idea what to do for him but he doesn't seem to mind as his mouth wraps around one pert nipple. He growls again and the vibrations go right through her body. His hands are rough on her hips and she can feel his belt buckle biting into the skin of her stomach. Tia lets herself get swept away in the sensation of his body over hers, arching up into his mouth and questing fingers. She doesn't even notice he's removed her underwear until he slides a long digit up into her willing body. She lets out a soft gasp and he eyes snap open to find him staring up her from somewhere near her navel. He looks triumphant and she knows he likes making her lose control.
He darts up to catch her lips again before pulling away and going back to his knees. His finger slides free of her body and she watches as he undoes his belt and pushes his jeans down around his thighs. His arousal springs free and he leans over her searching the nightstand for a condom. She hears something else fall from the side of the bed and tries to ignore it as he comes up with a small foil packet. She watches as he rolls on the rubber and feels helpless and lost beneath him. If she's clueless about what to do during the foreplay this part is where she's practically brain dead. So she stays still and waits. Happy has never minded her inexperience or that fact that before him she'd never had anything but vanilla sex. If anything her confused faces seem to push him harder and tonight is no different. She doesn't fight as his big hands come out for her hips.
"Up and over zorra." She moves to comply immediately and his grip guides her into position until she's on her hands and knees before him. She likes it this way and she arches her back, a small noise slipping from her throat when his hand slides up her back to grip her hair painfully. He gives no warning of his intentions, one minute she's waiting and the next he's snapped forward and he slams into her to the hilt. The noise she makes is half whine, half moan and she can hear him laughing behind her as he starts to move. "That's a good girl, move those fuckin hips."
She can do nothing but drop her head in response as he starts to move behind her. His back snaps in a rhythm too quick and hard for speech so she just floats away. One rough hand comes up to palm a breast and she pushes back against him wantonly wanting more. Her arms are shaking from the effort of keeping herself up and when they finally give out and she goes face down in the sheets his chuckle shakes her body. He never stops moving against her and she's so wet for him it's embarrassing. When his calloused thumb comes around to rub at her clit she feels her cheeks flame at the way her body reacts, ass pushing back and up looking for more contact.
She can't fight what she wants though, and it doesn't take long before she can feel the end building low in her body. When she finally comes undone with a cry he lets out a hiss of pleasure and she feels his hips pick up speed. He stops making any attempt to hold back and just grabs both her hips pounding into her body with so much force she knows there'll be bruises tomorrow. She knows he's about to come when his hands actually lift her hips, her braced knees leaving the mattress for a moment and then he goes stiff, emptying himself.
There are no gentle touches in the afterglow. He just rolls to the side and lands on his back next to her. She slides down slowly, letting her knees go out so she ends up on her stomach. There's a soft snap as he removes the condom and she knows she'll find the nasty rubber on the floor in the morning. She can already hear him doing up his belt and she turns to look. He's barely winded, a thin sheen of sweat over his chest the only sign he's done anything physically demanding in recent memory. She by comparison is a boneless, sloppy mess. She hates him just a bit.
"You leaving?" She already knows the answer.
"I got shit to do." In a rare move, he reaches out and twists a lock of her hair around one long finger. "You look good after you've been fucked." His liquid eyes scan down the length of her body and she shivers. She's pretty sure she looks disgusting, she can feel mascara under her eyes and she knows her hair is in tangles.
"When will you be back? So I can tell Noreen I mean." The mention of his mother removes any trace of softness from his eyes and he sits up searching for his shirt.
"Couple days maybe. None of your business, Ma knows I won't leave her hanging for long." So they're back to that. Tia pulls the bed sheet up and around her body feeling suddenly used.
"I'll let you know if things get worse." She has no idea what the line is here. She can't put him in a box and its frustrating. He just nods and she watches as he pulls on the patched up vest.
"Don't call, I'll come here or the home if I need anything." He's already reaching for the door and Tia just nods. She knows he'll show up when he wants to and he'll take what he wants. He's done exactly that for a year now and she hasn't managed to complain yet. "Be good." It's his usual parting phrase and she has no response before he's gone.
She sinks back in the bed with a sigh. Five minutes, she'll give herself five minutes of wallowing in his smell, still wrapped up in the dirty bedclothes and then she'll move. She'll have to replace the picture frame from beside the bed again, and she'll have to wash the sheets before she can sleep tonight. She waits the entire time to the second before she pulls herself out of the bed, picking up discarded clothes and the used condom as she goes. Now, she'll put her world back in order and then she'll wait, with bated breath, for him to come back and wreck it again.
Reviews are welcome and thanks for reading.
