Authors: Scott Hildreth
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Erotica, #Romantic, #Women's Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Contemporary Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #Romance
“Operation?”
I asked.
“Yes, the kidney,” he said.
“What are you going to do with it,” I asked, knowing that it could not be repaired.
“There’s been a donor, Mr. Ead. It’s taken
considerable time to complete all of the tests, but there’s been an individual come forth. Somewhat unique circumstances, but a donor none-the-less,” he smiled as he spoke.
I stood straight and attempted to speak.
A lump rose in my throat. I wiped a tear from my eye and tried again.
Nothing.
I held my finger in the air and wiped my eyes free of tears with my free hand.
“Just a…” my voice cracked.
“Just a second.”
I raised both hands to my face and wiped my tears.
I knew you were listening.
“Who?”
I asked, standing there shaking.
“The individual wants to remain anonymous,” he stated as he rubbed his hands together.
“When?” I asked excitedly.
“It’s underway now. It’s going to be several hours more. Maybe you should sleep or get some food. He’s down on three in the O.R., when you’re ready you
ought to go to the waiting room there,” he said.
I nodded. I was still trying to process all of this.
“The elevator here down to three, and follow the hallway all the way on the right side to the sign that says Operating Room Waiting. It’s a long way, don’t get discouraged,” he said.
I nodded.
He took a breath and exhaled, still rubbing his hands together.
“You realize this is complicated at best?” he asked.
“Yes sir,” I responded.
“There are no assurances. He’s in extremely poor health,” he said.
“I understand, do all you can,” I paused and then finished what I’d waited a lifetime to say.
“Because he’s the only father I’ve got.”
KELLI.
Being with Erik made life simple. He made me feel like I had nothing to worry about. Ever. He made me feel like a woman. He made me feel like a child. He made me feel secure.
I took a chance with Erik and he took a chance with me. Wayne Gretzky said,
You miss a hundred percent of the shots you don’t take.
Wayne was right.
Erik was proving every day that he was so much more inside than what he was on the surface. And on the surface, he was magnificent.
“
Park Place
. Ha fucking ha,” he said as he moved his top hat along the outside of the board.
“Are you thirty-six, or ten?” I asked.
“Park Place is prime real estate,” he said, smiling.
I shook my head and held my hand out for the dice. As he handed them to me, he leaned over the board and kissed me.
“I love you, baby girl,” he said.
Melting.
“I love you back,” I responded as he handed me the dice.
“I’m going to own your little ass,” he said as he pointed to the Monopoly board.
“You already do,” I responded.
I took a drink of my coffee and shook the dice in my other hand.
“
Ead. Erik Ead
,” the doctor bellowed as he walked into the waiting room.
“Stay here, Kelli. I’ll be right back,” he said
as he stood up.
Erik walked to the far end of the waiting room and approached the doctor.
Erik told me he would talk to all of the doctors, because he could understand them better than I could. They talked to him, and he talked to me. I liked it that way. Erik took care of me. They were operating on my daddy, and giving him a new kidney. Erik said it was a complicated operation, and that it took a long time. We had eaten breakfast, and now we were playing Monopoly. I love Monopoly. The game had been going on for hours.
Erik stood and talked to the doctor for a moment, wiped his face, and then shook the doctor’s hand. He turned from the doctor, wiped his face with again with both hands, and walked back to the table.
“Progress report,” I said as I looked up and into his face.
“They’re done. It’s over,” he said and then took a breath.
“Your father has a new kidney. He’ll be in recovery for a while, and then we can go see him,” he said, standing over me.
I shook the dice in my hand.
“Did you hear me?” he asked.
I nodded my head.
“Uh huh, my turn,” I said as I tossed the dice on the board.
“Seven.
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Crap.
Go To Jail.
” I whined.
Erik
walked up to his seat and pulled it out from the table.
“I knew he was going to be okay,” I said
.
“Oh?” he asked.
“Uh huh, I said a special prayer,” I admitted as I handed Erik the dice.
“So did
I,” he said.
“
So did I.”
he said again as he tossed the dice.
KELLI.
Any woman with half of a heart would fall in lust with Erik Ead in a matter of minutes of being exposed to him. Initially, I fell in
lust.
Now, I sat in the kitchen as madly in love with him as any woman could be in love with anyone. No one could know Erik, actually know him, and
not
love him. Underneath that hard outer shell, he was as caring of a human being as has ever graced this earth.
People who don’t know of our relationship and our
sexual preferences say Erik is cruel because of the sex that we practice. Erik is giving me what I want because he loves me. If I didn’t want it, he wouldn’t do it. He guides me, protects me, provides me with assurance, and explains things to me that I do not understand. He never mistreats me, or abuses me morally, mentally, or physically. He never harms me, or forces me to do anything I do not want to do.
Exclude the sex from our relationship, and Erik Ead is an angel.
An angel covered in muscles and tattoos.
He stood in front of the stove and made breakfast while I sipped coffee. He was wearing sweats, slippers, and no shirt.
As he reached for the batter his bicep flexed and his back muscles twitched.
Sq
uuueeeeeeee.
“Put on a shirt,” I said as I sipped my coffee.
Paul Thorn, Ain’t Love Strange
played on the Ipod.
He looked over his right shoulder and squinted.
“Please?”
“You know I hate wearing shirts in the house, especially in the morning before I shower,” he responded.
“I can’t take it anymore. New house rule in my half of the house. Wear a shirt, or…” I tapped my finger on my lip and thought.
“Or fuck me if it’s off,” I said.
He laughed out loud.
“You said the first time we were in here, the night we broke in – that I could never wear a shirt again, ever,” he said over his shoulder.
He held up his arm and flexed his bicep.
Sweet baby Je
sus.
“Things change. Rules change,” I responded.
“You’re adorable,” he said as he flipped the pancakes.
A small saucepan warmed up fresh maple syrup that
Shakey brought back from a trip. I was excited to eat Erik’s special wheat pancakes and fresh syrup, but right now his biceps flexing, his back muscles twitching, and every available inch of his biker persona being covered in tattoos was just too much.
“I designate the kitchen
mine
,” I said as I stood from the chair.
“Yours?” he giggled.
“Yep. Mine. Prepare for the wrath of me,” I said as I walked his direction.
“You see me shaking?” he asked as he set the pancakes onto a plate with the others.
He covered the plate in aluminum foil.
“You’ll be shaking soon enough,” I laughed as I approached him.
He held the bowl of batter over the stove and reached for the spoon. I wedged myself between his waist and the stove. As he opened his arms to allow me room, I stood on my tip toes and kissed him.
“I love you, baby girl. Now scoot,” he said as he waved his hand that held the spoon.
Batter dripped onto my arm. I looked at the batter droplets and back at him. As he watched intently, I wiped the batter with my fingertip. I licked the batter from the tip of my finger with as much eroticism as I could. It tasted unnaturally sweet.
Leaning backward, still allowing me room to be between him and the stove, he stood and stared with his mouth open.
He held the bowl in his left hand, and the wooden batter covered spoon in his other.
I reached for the bowl and shoved my hand into the batter. As I pulled it out, batter dripped to the floor from my fingers.
“Kelli, what the
fuck
?” he asked as he shook his head and attempted to pull the batter away.
I slowly bent my knees. As I did, my chest pressed against his legs. I cupped my right hand close to my chest.
“Scoot. Isn’t that what you said?
Scoot
,” I said as I pushed against his legs with my elbow.
“What the fuck are you…” he began to ask.
I cupped the batter in my right hand. As he stepped back, I grabbed the waist of his sweats with my left hand and yanked. They came down just far enough for his cock to flop out.
Perfect.
I grabbed his cock with my batter covered right hand and stroked it slowly. The batter was slippery. I stroked his cock until it was rigid. I cupped his smoothly shaved balls in my hand and covered them in batter. I pulled my hand back and slowly licked my fingers, looking up at him as I did.
He set the bowl on the counter and turned off the stove.
He reached for the remote control and turned up the music.
Ben Harper, Brown Eyed Blues.
He wants this as much as I do.
“My kitchen, my rules,” I said before I swallowed half of his batter covered cock.
I pulled my mouth from his cock, looked up at him, and licked my lips
“
Our
kitchen,” he said.
“My kitchen, your hallway,” I said, looking up at him.
I winked and took his entire cock into my mouth. My throat convulsed. I held his cock deep and pressed against the shaft with my tongue. Slowly, I released his cock from my mouth. I sucked hard as I did. When it passed my lips, it made a
pop.
“Mine,” I said, “wear a shirt or get naked,” I said as I opened my mouth and guided his cock toward my lips.
“
Ours
. No shirt. I never wear a…”
I grabbed his ass in my
left hand and took his entire length into my mouth. I took his cock into my throat and quickly slid back up the shaft. He gasped. I took it into my throat again. I closed my eyes. I released it. I took it into my throat again then released it. I squeezed his ass in my hand, and took his cock into my throat and held it. I opened my eyes and looked up. My throat convulsed. I pressed harder. I stretched my tongue out and licked his batter covered balls. He groaned. Slowly, I slid my mouth from his cock.
“Who’s kitchen? Who
owns
this kitchen?” I asked, smiling.
The music changed to
R. L. Burnside, Someday Baby.
There’s no way he won’t fuck me now.
He looked down and slowly smiled.
“Fuck it, baby girl. This kitchen’s
yours
. Come here.
Now
,” he said as he reached down and placed his hands under my arm pits.
He hoisted me to my feet.
“You’re
always
gonna be trouble aren’t you,” he laughed as he lifted me to the island -referencing the song’s lyrics,
someday baby you ain’t gonna be trouble for me anymore.
I nodded.
I loved this kitchen. I loved it when he brought me in her the first time. That was so hot. Every time I stepped into the kitchen I got wet. This house is perfect for us.
“Your kitchen, your rules.
But now it’s sex, and when it’s sex, who calls the shots?” he asked.
“The shot caller,” I responded, sitting on the island facing him.
“Who’s the shot caller?” he asked as he spread my knees apart.
I pointed at his chest, “You sir.”
“That’s right. Don’t forget it,” he said as he turned toward the sink.