FillingtheVoid Page 2

  “How long?”

  “I told you, the regular time.”

  “No, how long is this early morning crap?”

  “The rest of the week.”

  “The rest of the…that’s four more days. Dane—”

  He stopped her words with another kiss. This one quick and ending with him sucking her bottom lip. “Love you, miss you, want you every single second of every day. I’ll see you later.” He straightened and headed for the door.

  Naomie didn’t have anything else she could say so she waved at his retreating back. He called a greeting to John as he got in his car. She watched until Dane pulled out of the driveway and his taillights disappeared from view.

  “Damn it.” She kicked the exercise ball, sending it bouncing across the room. The sparse decor meant it didn’t hit anything breakable, not that she would have cared if it had. Her entire morning was shot, along with all the other mornings for the rest of the week.

  Dane had done the right thing not telling her about his overtime last night because she would have woken his ass up and gotten hers before doing her exercise or skipped exercise altogether in favor of doing him.

  She found herself pacing without realizing it. This was the energy she usually expended with Dane. Morning sex followed by a soothing bath and a quick catnap before she officially started her day.

  The morning sex had gone to work. She was too pissed off to enjoy a soothing anything and that meant the nap wouldn’t happen either. A frustrated sound left her as she stalked to the master bedroom. She needed to get out of the house. Staying there thinking about it would only make her angrier.

  It took a little bit to find her running pants. She didn’t wear them that often since she didn’t go running, at least not since moving to this house. She’d done it a lot at the old place as a way to burn off energy from sexual frustration. Those had been the days before Dane’s promotion to his current job. He’d been working long hours and not able to accommodate Naomie’s appetite. He’d tried, bless him, the man had tried but she’d seen the way it was exhausting him and had decided a different course of action was needed.

  Thus Naomie had taken up running—a pastime she’d thought had ended with this promotion and the move. It seemed she would be going back to it. She located a pair of panties and a sports bra.

  Panties. Just thinking the word made her angrier. When was the last time she’d worn panties out of the house? For that matter, when was the last time she’d worn panties in her house? Naomie wore thongs if she bothered wearing anything at all. But thongs and running didn’t mix.

  She grumbled curses under her breath as she dressed and then yanked her long, dark-brown hair into a tight ponytail that hung down to her shoulder blades. By the time she returned to her living room, Sam and John had retreated back to their normal lives. Sunrise was a little over half an hour away. Naomie planned to greet the phenomenon from the top of the lookout outside the suburb—a locale she’d visited once before with Dane when they’d first arrived there.

  After securing her player to her waist and her house key on a chain around her neck, she headed for the hills. Literally. The suburb had a mountain behind it. The street ended at a dirt road that led into the mountains and the lookout.

  The lookout was the reason they had chosen this neighborhood. A single night parked there with the other cars had earned her and Dane notoriety among the neighborhood teens. Said prestige had gotten back to a few parents who had declared Naomie and Dane’s house no-man’s-land. But Naomie wasn’t the corruptor of youth the wives accused her of being. Neither was she loose or seeking sex from anyone and everyone who crossed her path. Her skimpy way of dressing had gotten her a reputation for being easy that had followed her from high school.

  It hadn’t been true in high school or college and it wasn’t true now. She was promiscuous, no denying that, but she had tastes and a type, which meant she didn’t go after every guy who showed interest. Dane was the exception. One look at him after he’d introduced himself during their junior year and she’d skipped her afternoon classes to fuck him in an empty classroom with her roommate acting as lookout.

  That had been the beginning of their life together. No matter how many others they took to bed, they always returned to each other for fulfillment. It was as if they couldn’t get satisfaction with anyone else. Some people had love at first sight. Naomie and Dane had had love at first fuck.

  The line of would-be sexual partners had dwindled once Dane, with his six-foot-six, toned frame, had started escorting her around campus. Not dating. That didn’t properly describe the relationship they had shared. It had been more like Dane making sure everyone knew she belonged to him. At the same time, she’d made sure the girls on campus had known he was hers.

  Possession.

  They’d gotten married right out of college because they couldn’t suffer not being together. A summer apart before their senior year had proven that to them both.

  Naomie brushed her hand over her left breast, caressing her nipple ring. Her engagement ring. The summer between junior and senior year, before they had parted, Dane had given her a toe ring for her left foot—placed on the foot equivalent of the ring finger. A sort of promise ring. She’d thought it was cute and teased him about it.

  Their reunion the following fall had consisted of marathon sex all weekend and ended with Dane proposing once they’d come up for air. Naomie hadn’t hesitated to say yes. The box he’d presented her had held the nipple ring—solid gold with a diamond gem ball and a dangling heart-shaped ruby. He’d worked his ass off all summer to afford it, the matching toe ring and the wedding band set. He’d been that sure she would say yes.

  Her nipple hadn’t been pierced back then and she’d thought nothing of having it done so she could wear her engagement ring. Of course her parents hadn’t been happy with the piercing. Both their parents had insisted—upon threat of separation—that she and Dane wait until after graduation to get married, though that hadn’t stopped them from sharing an apartment and enjoying all the benefits of wedded bliss minus legal paperwork.

  Eleven years later…

  Naomie twirled her wedding ring around her left finger with her thumb as she walked to the railing at the edge of the lookout cliff. Pushing herself to run faster than usual resulted in the desired effect. She was breathing hard, properly tired and her upset had passed. She was able to look over the town below as the sun rose and see the beauty of her home. It calmed her.

  “Stupid Dane,” she grumbled and then laid a kiss on the gold wedding band.

  He would be tired when he got home. She should give him a massage. And if that massage happened to lead to sex, all the better. She wouldn’t force it though. Not if he was exhausted. Knowing Dane, she might have to make him rest. Maybe a hot bath would be better.

  Yet again she was faced with an ever-changing decision. She would know the right answer once she saw Dane that night. Until then, she had the rest of the day ahead of her. She leaned against the railing and tried to think about what she would do with her morning.

  She and a few friends had a get-together planned at one. Factoring in the hour-long drive to get there, Naomie still had six hours to kill. If her day had gone as planned, her nap would have taken care of three of those hours. Her run had tired her out but not enough to sleep, which was bad since she’d only gotten three hours before her exercise routine.

  She didn’t want to be exhausted when Dane got home, but only sex—good hard sex—would make her sleepy. A sigh over the inevitable left her lips. She would have to dig out a few of her toys and go solo. The dildo that suction-cupped to the wall, the vibrating anal beads and the strap-on butterfly vibrator should do the trick…she hoped. She just had to remember which box they were in because she hadn’t unpacked them. Dane usually kept her too well-satisfied to care where the toys were.

  “Guess the honeymoon is over,” she mumbled as she started back down the path for home. She decided to enjoy the walk and take her
time, listening to the woods around her.

  The quiet suburb had filled with the sounds of loud children on their way to school, cars carrying their passengers to various jobs, and one lone lawnmower. The sound was out of place for a Tuesday. The husbands of the neighborhood saved lawn work for the weekend. And then the sound made sense.

  “Crap!” Naomie ran the rest of the way home. She’d forgotten Jaime was coming this morning. Dane wasn’t the type to care for a lawn, mostly because he hadn’t met a plant he couldn’t kill. He’d destroyed the yard of their last house. How exactly was still a mystery and the property manager hadn’t hesitated to keep the deposit to fix the damage. Not even weeds would grow. Naomie had vowed Dane wouldn’t do it again.

  As much as Dane hated spending money on something he could handle himself or thought he could handle himself, he’d given in to Naomie’s demands for a gardener. Jaime came once a week to do lawn upkeep and today was also the day he got paid. She’d meant to have the check ready for him as soon as he arrived. Not because he demanded it before starting his work or anything like that. She’d simply been planning to be asleep by the time he finished.

  As well, she’d wanted to talk to him about doing some landscaping. The house would look better with a few bushes or a flowerbed. It was too late for that today. He’d already started, but they could still discuss it for next week.

  Jaime saw her coming and cut the lawnmower. The bandana around his forehead held back the errant strands of long blond hair he kept tamed with a rubber band. Sweat already soaked the front of his shirt. Naomie figured that was due to the warmer than usual morning, which promised to turn into a hot day, than the little amount of mowing he’d done so far. Given the size of her front and back yards, he would be sweating much more. She would set out some water bottles for him before going to have her fun.

  “Morning, Naomie,” he called with a wave. “I didn’t get an answer when I rang the doorbell so I thought you might be sleep already.”

  She returned his wave. “I decided to go running. The fact that it’s Tuesday totally slipped my mind. I mean I knew it was Tuesday but the significance…” She shook her head. “Whatever. Why did you ring? I know today is payday but did you need something else?”

  He grinned as he scratched the back of his neck and dropped his gaze. “Just curious to see what you were wearing today.”

  “Or not wearing.”

  “Yeah, that too.”

  Jaime was a cute kid. He lived with his parents two suburbs over while he worked all day and attended night and online classes to finish the requirements for his bachelor’s degree. The recommendation to hire him had come from one of the girls who liked to visit Naomie when her parents weren’t paying attention. The girl had a crush on Jaime and had spent many hours touting his attributes to Naomie, none of which had anything to do with his ability to care for Naomie’s lawn.

  Naomie had made an appointment with him for the following day. That was six months ago. Dane had taken some convincing—the kind that had lasted all night and into the morning—about hiring a gardener. The man had gone to work tired but grinning ear-to-ear. Meanwhile Naomie had been so caught up in the euphoric afterglow that the meeting with the new gardener had slipped her mind as did her state of undress when she answered the door.

  Nothing but a T-back thong was her normal at-home attire, sometimes not even that much. Poor Jaime had stood on the other side of the doorway open-mouthed and staring. As far as first meetings go, it left a lasting impression.

  Of course Naomie hadn’t been embarrassed. Her ample breasts were worthy of attention and had gotten her plenty over the years. Jaime’s blue-eyed gaze had been riveted to her dark nipples, which rose and fell with her every breath. The telltale bulge in his pants had been a nice compliment. She’d still apologized though for appearing like that.

  Slipups like those weren’t common. To date, Jaime was only the second man to witness her absentmindedness after a romp with Dane. The first had been Sam when he’d come to greet the new additions. He’d been as happily shocked as Jaime. She couldn’t have said the same for Cathy, who’d tossed a few Bible verses about harlots Naomie’s way before dragging her husband home.

  Cathy hadn’t rallied the other wives to run the temptress out of town but she had warned them to be vigilant. Thus Naomie had no friends around her. Not that she wanted these stuck-up, repressed snobs as her friends. They didn’t bother her and she tried her best not to bother them…as much as she could, given the women usually got pissed off every time they saw her. But that might be the fault of her clothing choices.

  She pulled at the fabric of her yoga pants and gave Jaime a wry smile. “Not my usual, I know. Give me a little bit to shower and change and I’ll give you something to stare at.”

  “You’re always worth staring at, Naomie, no matter what you’re wearing.” He chuckled. “Or not wearing.”

  “Aren’t you precious?” She flicked her finger under his chin. “I’ll let you get back to work. I want to talk to you after about doing something with this lawn besides mowing it.”

  Jaime looked around. “Yeah, it could use some beautification.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Nude sunbathing is a good start.”

  She laughed. “Yes, ’cause Lord knows I need a tan bad.” Holding up an arm, she played as if she was considering what a tan would look like on her. If her brown skin got any darker, Dane might lose her at night. Then again…naked hide-and-seek had a certain appeal.

  Sure Dane’s olive complexion meant he would always lose, if bedroom games had losers. Another option for that night had presented itself. Again, dependent on whether Dane had the energy for it.

  She unlocked and opened the front door. “Ring the bell when you finish.”

  “You know I will.”

  After tossing a wave over her shoulder, she closed the door and headed to the master bathroom. She entered the bedroom and turned right back around when she remembered the water bottles she’d wanted to give Jaime.

  She went to the kitchen, grabbed four and then carried them to the front door. Jaime paused, though he didn’t shut off the mower this time, when she stepped out onto the front porch. She shook one bottle at him and set the rest on the railing. Jaime gave her a thumbs-up and resumed mowing.

  He urged the mower into a turn and started pushing it toward the street. Naomie was about to go back into the house when the swaying chain attached to his belt loop caught her attention. The other end of the chain was probably attached to a wallet or something. But that wasn’t what interested her.

  Every step Jaime took made the chain slap against his ass—an ass that was hard and round and framed nicely in his loose cargo jeans. Naomie’s fingers twitched with the need to grab a handful and see how firm his ass really was. She loved men with a bubble butt. It made for a great handhold while they moved between her legs. Dane had the perfect ass against which Naomie judged all other men. And suddenly she was in the mood to see how Jaime’s compared.

  A slow, hungry smile curved her lips as she took in the rest of him—tall and lean with a narrow waist and tight arms. One time, a few weeks ago, she had caught him lifting his shirt to wipe sweat off his brow and had been treated to a view of his subtle six-pack. Not well defined but there—a worker’s body. The sight hadn’t done much for her then but she hadn’t been horny at the time.

  Naomie retreated into the house. She strummed the fingers of her left hand over her nipple ring through her sports bra as she tried to figure out a way to entice Jaime into giving her what Dane hadn’t. The motion was part stimulation and part habit. Naomie fondled her nipple ring when she was thinking the same way some people chewed the tips of pens or tapped their fingernails on tabletops.

  Jaime had to talk to her when he finished. That would be the perfect time to see if he was interested in doing more than talking. She also had a white lace top that accented her dark nipples and would go nicely with her cutoff jean booty shorts—the kind that showed the swell of her ass
cheeks and her pussy lips if she bent over. She liked to wear them with the zipper open so it showed off her thong, which would match the white lace top. All together the perfect recipe for temptation that would make any man hard…and had.

  Her shower was utilitarian and short. She would be taking another afterward anyway. By the time she dressed and returned to the living room, Jaime had started edging. He still had the backyard to do before Naomie could get her hands on him. She spent the time watching him, something she hadn’t done until now and regretted.

  Lawn maintenance was dirty, sweaty work. Jaime had drunk three of the four bottles of water she’d given him. She would have to set out more. His bandana was soaked and he had a smudge of dirt across his neck from when he’d brushed away some grass that got stuck there.

  Funny how anything could be sexy when the woman watching wanted the man enough. And she did want him. Her juices soaking through the crotch of her jean shorts was proof. She leaned against the kitchen island—the house midpoint that afforded her a view of the front and back yards without having to move except to turn around.

  She reached under her top so she could play with her nipple ring unimpeded, tugging and twisting the metal, making her nipple hard and the desire to feel Jaime’s tongue toying with the ring more urgent. Would he take it and her nipple into his mouth and suck the way she liked or dodge the ring in a bid to taste her nipple only? She guessed that would depend on whether he was scared of hurting her or not.

  Some people had preferred paying attention to only her right breast because they didn’t want to risk doing something to the ring that might injure her. No amount of assurances had gotten her left breast the tongue action she’d desired. She hadn’t seen those partners again. Skittish lovers annoyed her. She craved a man who knew what he wanted and exactly how he wanted it. The same went for women. No hesitance or uncertainty.

  From her few conversations with Jaime, she pegged him as such a man. She hoped she was right. Her pussy hungered for hard, fast and full. There might be a little awkwardness at first. Not everyone was okay with what they perceived to be adultery, but the neighborhood had already surmised she was the type. It wasn’t since Dane knew, allowed it and had other sexual partners also. They had an open marriage. Rumors from those too chicken to ask wouldn’t paint it as such. Jaime must have heard the rumors and gossip, so Naomie’s proposition, when she made it, shouldn’t surprise him that much.