Fly Girl Ch. 04

"That's what I thought," he laughed in triumph. Steven took her head in his hands. He kissed her with a long, tender passion then proclaimed, "I love you, too, Stephanie."

The door swung open and Lucinda stumbled through the backlit portal. It slammed shut again and Pedro's heavy boots stomped down the hallway. Maria thought she heard him laughing.

"Oh, poor baby, my poor little one. Come here!"

The girl shook. Her shabby dress was torn and her eyes swollen red. Her good arm cradled the one Pedro had grabbed. An angry bruise testified to his careless strength and lack of compassion.

"I cannot use my arm," Lucinda whimpered. "He told me it served me right for not obeying. He said I would get well, or . . . I . . ." She sobbed.

Maria fingered it in a slow, gentle exploration. When she reached the elbow the girl sucked in her breath.

"It is all right, darling. It is something I know. This may hurt. Can you be brave?"

Lucinda bit her lower lip, gazed at Maria with brimming eyes and nodded.

Maria did not wait; she pulled and twisted the forearm in a single, sharp motion. The girl yelped as her elbow relocated. The physical pain left her eyes, but the specter of another injury lingered.

There was no need for details. She simply let Lucinda come into her hug. The tiny steps the girl took spoke of her trauma. Maria bit back her fury and wrapped her lover in a protective embrace.

"It will be all right, baby." She held the girl, stroked her hair and let her cry. She cooed, "It's all right. You will be all right. I will take care of you now." She kissed Lucinda's hair. "He will not touch you again. You are mine, now, and I will take care of you. I promise, my precious little love. I promise . . ."

Maria knew it was time to escape. With Lucinda. If she could destroy him in the process that would make it all the sweeter. But right now they had to get away, and quickly.

She had a plan. It was desperate and needed a little luck. If it worked they would soon have their life together, beautiful and sweet. If not . . . well, either way it would be better than this.

Steve wore his jeans; Stephanie had claimed his shirt. They busied themselves in the kitchen to feed a different hunger that now gnawed at them both.

"You know, Steven, a woman in the throes of orgasm, or freshly fucked, technically cannot be held to anything she may or may not have said. Not to mention the, 'new' stuff." She wriggled her bottom for emphasis. "Kinda inspired, but a nice surprise." All of a sudden her cheeks felt warm.

"Uh huh," he answered without an iota of conviction. "You can hang onto that fantasy if you want, but I know what you said." He made the sentence sound like a schoolyard taunt. "Besides, '. . . cannot be held to anything she might or might not have said'," he misquoted. "What in the Hell does that even mean?"

"Oh, crap, Steve—"

'Uh, uh!" He grabbed her by an arm and spun her to face him. He groped her back and most of her derrière in his two large hands and pressed her body to his. "That's 'Steven' to you."

She smiled up at him, blushed, and murmured, "Yes, Steven." Her blue eyes glistened as she laced her fingers together behind his neck.

"God, I just love it when you call me that." He held her tighter as she snuggled her head against his bare chest. Steve kissed the top of her hair, breathing in the scent of her. It was different afterwards, still sweet and fragrant but mixed now with sweat and sex. She smelled wonderful. He whispered, "I've never heard my name sound so sexy or so beautiful as when you say it, Steph."

She slapped his ass and told him, "That's 'Queen Stephania' to you, Flyboy!" She nipped his skin as he laughed. He lifted her chin and kissed her, desperate to convey his feelings for her. Their lips skimmed and slithered together. She opened her mouth and Steve tasted her with gentle caresses. When his tongue retreated hers followed. He suckled on it; Stephanie smiled and moaned at the same time. As they parted she was breathless.

"Yes, my Queen!" He knelt before her, head bowed, and she giggled. When his gaze rose he found himself locking eyes on her vee. The front of his shirt had opened just enough to reveal her naked sex. She was still flushed, swollen, and glistening, and her scent made his mouth water.

"Hey, no you don't," she admonished him, clapping his shirttail over herself with both hands. "We're going to make something to eat first. Then, maybe, we'll see about more nookie." She knew there was no "maybe" about it; she literally dripped in anticipation. But Stephanie did not want him to ever take their lovemaking for granted. She vowed then and there that she never would.

"Yeah, but I already see what I want," he told her in a piteous, pleading voice.

She twirled away from him, made a dash for the fridge and yanked open the door. Stephanie grabbed a jar, twisted off the lid and brandished it in his direction, slopping a bit onto the floor. "I have pepper juice here, and I'm not afraid to use it!" She appeared fierce. Then, despite her best efforts, her lips curled.

He leaned back and crossed his arms, confident and unthreatened. "Um, yeah, those are olives."

"Oh, crap." Her eyes shone with joy and never left his. "Steven, thank you."

"For what?" he asked, though he thought he knew the answer.

""For this—all this. For being with me." Her voice turned mischievous. "Olive?" She reached into the jar, lifted out a dark orb, and seductively slipped it into her mouth. Her thumb tugged at her lower lip as she withdrew her hand.

His heart missed a beat before it thudded in his chest, and he stared. Everything she did seemed to entrance or excite him. Then he said, "Hell, Ste—"

Her brow furrowed in warning and she pointed the jar at Steven.

"Sorry, Queen Stephania—"

She laughed. "That's better."

He turned serious. "Thank you."

But as Steve took a breath her smile faltered. He continued, "I need you—as my friend and companion, and I definitely need you as my lover. What we have, right here, is amazing. As long as I have time with you, it's all I need, okay? Forget the other crap. No pressure, 'kay?"

Stephanie eyes turned limpid as he spoke. When he finished she sniffled, set the jar on the counter and used the bottom of his shirt to wipe her face. Steve fought the reflex to look at her captivating nudity and stared into her cobalt eyes instead. She smiled and dropped the shirt into place once more.

"For someone who says he has trouble talking, you talk pretty good." She smiled even as she blinked back her tears. She walked to him and draped her arms around his shoulders and neck. Then in the absence of an orgasm, and quite some time after being freshly fucked, Stephanie whispered, "I love you, Steven."

He knelt down and wrapped his arms around her, one behind her bare thighs and the other around her lower back. Steven's head rested against her abs and he could hear the quick beat of her heart.

"I love you, too . . . my Queen."

She slapped the top of his head and giggled. Then she cradled him against her body.

Stephanie sighed. It felt like home to her.