Right now, I’m glad I had laundry caught up thanks to the impromptu break we had due to the school being closed for those few days, because I’m able to put my hands on laundered clothes for the next day, as well as a pair of clean sleep pants and T-shirt. A quick trip into the bathroom garners my toothbrush, deodorant, and comb, which I put into the travel bag Dusty got me one Christmas. Actually, it holds a variety of the products I use, and while we don’t take a lot of trips, it’s come in handy on the away games because I’m able to freshen up before we hop back onto the bus and head back to the school.
Once I’m sure I have all of my essentials, I zip up the bag, then take a few minutes to turn all the faucets in the house on so they’re lightly running since frozen pipes are not something I want to deal with ever. I also unplug the computer as well as the television because even though they’re on a surge protector, I refuse to take any chances with my electronics. Confident that I’ve done everything I can to protect the house from any damage due to this outage, I grab the bag, then lock up the house before heading back out to the idling truck.
“That didn’t take long,” she observes once I’ve tossed my bag into the back seat, and jumped back into the truck.
“Would’ve been out sooner, but I went ahead and made sure the water was dripping, and everything important was unplugged,” I admit, putting the truck in gear.
The ride to her house is comfortable, but quiet, and I wonder what she’s thinking or if she’s regretting her impulsive decision to have me stay with her.
Parking in her driveway, I turn to her and state, “Sunday, I don’t have any expectations, even though I am attracted to you and hope things progress with us.”
Even in the dim light, I can see her face flushing. “I didn’t ask for that reason, Jett. I think it’s obvious by now that I like you and am attracted to you, but I’m not going to lie, I’m nervous about anything physical.”
“How about we go in where it’s warmer? We can talk, okay?”
I’m pretty sure her scars are where her insecurities are coming from, and need to share my own.
Her kittens are happy to see us, and we spend several minutes playing with them before she heads into the kitchen to make sure they’ve got plenty of food and water. While she does that, I go ahead and make sure the house is locked up for her.
“Should I let my water run too?” she asks, coming back into the living room.
“Probably wouldn’t be a bad idea,” I muse. “I mean, you’ve got electricity right now, of course, but there’s a freeze warning so even with that, your pipes could still burst if they’re not well-insulated.”
“Okay, I did in the kitchen, so I just need to do the guest bathroom and mine,” she says.
I follow her, stopping in the hall while she makes sure the water is running in the spare bathroom before we walk through the door of the master bedroom where I’m completely taken by surprise.
She’s got one of the biggest beds I’ve ever seen; definitely larger than a king size, with an identical headboard and footboard which compliments the decor. The room is painted in a soft gray, while the comforter is in shades of green, purple, and white. A matching triple dresser, two nightstands, and a wardrobe barely fill the room.
“Your room is huge,” I say, setting my bag down on the side that doesn’t appear to be used.
“It was one of the selling points of the house for me,” she admits. “Wait until you see the walk-in closets, and its his and her bathrooms.”
Closets.
Plural.
She motions for me to follow her which I eagerly do only to see a small hall, for lack of a better word, with two closets, one on each side. While that’s impressive in its own right, there are actually two bathrooms. The tiled shower is in the middle and appears to have multiple shower heads, as well as a bench. She waves me into the one on the right, and I can see a huge garden tub, plus the closet itself with shelves and racks neatly organized with her clothes neatly stacked and hung. A built-in vanity is off to the right before the closet door, along with a sink.
“The other side is empty, but you’re welcome to use it. Make yourself at home,” she encourages, turning the water in the shower on so it’s slowly running.
“This is fantastic, Sunday,” I murmur. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“Take your time, Jett, I’m going to go ahead and change for bed since I’m already in here.”
“Oh my God, those are great,” she manages to say between her giggles once I breach the bedroom. She’s not in bed just yet, and I see her flush slightly when I glance in her direction.
Looking down, I grin. “These? Another Dusty gift. My sister takes him shopping at Christmas, and he always manages to find the craziest sleep pants.” Right now, I’m wearing flannel Grinch ones, but I’ve got a pair that has red lips scattered all over them. I just didn’t think they were appropriate. Yet.
“Well, he’s got great taste. It’s one of my favorite movies. Um, I wanted to show you my scars, Jett, and while I know nothing will happen tonight, you deserve to see them beforehand so you can decide whether or not you can handle them.”
Before I can utter a word, she reaches underneath the longer sleep shirt she has on, and slides the matching pants off. At first glance, I can see there’s a slight difference in the muscle tone from one leg to the other. It’s minimal, which is a testament to how hard she’s worked to recover. My gaze is drawn to her thigh, where it’s obvious she’s had surgery; however, whoever did it was a fucking genius, because other than the slight lines, it looks smooth and unblemished. My breath catches in my throat when she turns, and I’m presented with her ass. The damage there is more noticeable, but still, it’s not as bad as I thought it would be. Light pink lines criss cross her lower back, down the cheek itself then toward her thigh, but both sides are perky, for lack of a better word.
I move closer and cup her face with my hands so she’ll look at me since she’s avoided my gaze once she dropped her sleep pants. While I’d love to trace each line, first with my fingers, then with my lips and tongue, we’re not there yet, but she needs to grasp how she affects me.
“Sunday, I’m not sure what you’re thinking right now, but I gotta tell you, nothing about what I’m looking at is a turn off, at least not to me,” I confess, feeling my dick grow hard with her naked flesh within reaching distance. “In fact, I suggest you put your pants back on or we’re going to find ourselves in a predicament that we’re not ready to act on just yet.”
She whips around, and I can see a spark of hope igniting in her eyes as she quickly pulls her pants back up. “Really?” Her tone is unsure, and I want to break her ex’s nose for making her feel like she’s less than ideal.
“Yeah, really,” I reply, motioning to the front of my tented pants, where it’s obvious my dick is trying to escape. Her giggle has me chuckling. “We’ve all got scars, sweetheart. Some are just more visible than others. Here, let me show you mine.” When her eyes grow even wider, I can’t help but laugh. “I don’t need to strip down, sweetheart.” Because if I did, there’s no way we would stop until I was buried inside of her.