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Tuesday Tales: The Police Cometh

6/21/2015

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Today's prompt is old.



Cell up to his ear, he spoke in staccato sentences. “Will Robinson here. Yes, that’s my name. Ask the chief. He knows me. Send a car to this address. Attempted robbery. Scared off the miscreant. Yes, I know. Send. The. Car.” He rattled off her address.


Police. That meant neighbors peeking through blinds and speculating on her behavior. She’d never contacted the police because she didn’t want such a scenario. Clothes might be useful, especially for Will. His would go in the dryer. Her obvious nipplestand would merit a bra and a less wet top too.

His bare feet made a slapping noise on the wood floor. The act of shoving his wet clothes into the dryer kept her busy, refusing to acknowledge his presence behind her. The police would be no help. The officers might get some titillation over the fact that sexy photos were involved, but wouldn’t take it seriously. Her fingers pressed his pants into a ball before flinging them hard into the dryer.

“Hey.” His comment reminded her he was behind her. “No reason to take your anger out on my clothes. The police had to be called.”

Her violent pivot sent her tumbling back against the washer. Really. Decided to call the police now. Yeah, right. Summoning up her best glacial stare, she sent it his way. He must have felt it since he shuffled backward about a foot. Yeah, she was pissed. “Whose choice was it to call the police?”

He placed an open hand against the sliver of chest the robe exposed. “I made the decision since it was my car.”

“Your car, your precious old car!” She shoved past him, jabbing him with an elbow. Childish thing to do, she knew. “I have to get dressed since the police are coming.”

Sebastian had popped out from the table, his sanctuary in times of high emotion. Her brisk walk with balled fists swinging by her side sent him scurrying back under the protective forest of wooden legs. Smart dog, smarter than most men she knew, especially since she could hear footsteps behind her.

“Tonya, wait. It’s not about the car and it's not old.” His hand landed on her shoulder.

She spun around wanting to fight and relieve the frustration from Clint’s scare tactics, her job insecurity, and the buildup to a sexual release that didn’t look like it was coming any time soon. “Okay, Mr. Big Shot Lawyer, what’s it about?”

The lines between his eyebrows relaxed as he replied. “You, it’s about you. It’s about creating a documented history of harassment. You’ll need that to get a restraining order. It’s about fighting back.”

The intenseness of his eyes faded, replaced by a tenderness that erased most of her anger, but not all. “I don’t want to fight back. It might get worse. I just want it to stop.”

“I understand.” His hand cradled her cheek. “I wish I knew some other way. As a divorce lawyer, I know this area. Occasionally, a spouse harassed my client. In a few cases, my client was the stalker. I know the ends and outs of the legal system. We have to press back.”

His profession and experience gave validity to his words. They made sense, but Clint didn’t operate on logic. “I’m afraid Clint will only up the ante.”

Will nodded. “That’s a possibility.”

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Tuesday Tales: The Night That Was

6/15/2015

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The Night Tonya Wanted
Today's prompt is based on the photo. This is the night Tonya wanted. The excerpt is a snippet of what really happened.

 

Her pulse quickened as she packed away all her reasons not to fall in bed with Will. Her woeful lack of a love life status would transform in a matter of minutes, make that several minutes. A piercing squeal permeated the house. Not a siren, it could be something went wrong with the washer, but it never sounded like that before.

Will’s guiding arm around her waist tensed, and then fell away. “Damn asshole is messing with my car! I’ll put a stop to that. ”

Tonya watched silently as he shoved his arms into the bathrobe covering a tattoo on his shoulder. His tight jaw and lowered brow didn’t promise a night of endless pleasure, especially when her ex was doing God knows what outside. He darted out the door before she could remind him about Clint’s gun. The exterior door slammed, jolting her into action. “Wait,” she yelled the words as she ran out of the bathroom. The reflective glass of a nature scene she placed in the hallway reminded her that clothes might be advisable. Great, clothes, what a time waster. Indecent exposure was the thing she’d been trying to avoid. Back in the bathroom she pulled her yoga pants and shirt over her wet body.

“Hate Clint. Hate that I ever met him. Wish he’d die. If I ran out there without a stitch, the man would laugh himself silly and probably take a photo too. Excellent reason to get me fired.”

By the time, she got to the front door; Will swung it open from the outside, talking as he entered. “The jerkwad is gone. Heard him burning rubber as soon as I got outside. I’m calling the police.”

The angry man strode past her. Forget her status change, not that she would have made it public, but still. 
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Tuesday Tales: Far from Boredom

6/8/2015

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Today's prompt is boredom, but there is nothing boring about these two,
The crunch of Will working his way through the popcorn brought Sebastian closer. The pampered pooch head-butted Will until he flipped him a popped kernel, which he snatched out of the air.

“Ah ha, he caught it.” Will’s eyes lit up. He tossed another kernel, laughing as Sebastian seized it too. Tonya sucked in her lips, thinking the dog got more attention than she did. Maybe she should be snapping food out of the air. The man continued to toss popcorn that her dog caught.

“Well, I’m going to shower while you two have fun.” Her words were meant to infer boredom, but there was nothing boring about the man.

Will looked up in mid-action, as if he might say something, but instead another piece of popcorn flew through the air. Enough already, she stomped off to the bathroom, as well as a barefooted person could. Call it walking with attitude.

A shower would be good. A chance to wash her troubles away, if only. Still, the warm water pelting on her skin would work as a mini massage. Since Sebastian and Will were bonding over popcorn, she’d take her time.

The water steamed up the small bathroom causing Tonya to flip on the exhaust fan before she stepped in the shower. The hot water made her grateful for the larger water heater she’d installed last fall. At the time, she couldn’t rationalize a larger heater. The sales representative talked her into it, claiming it would improve resale value.

A liberal dollop of bath gel on the pouf released a blackberry fragrance as she lathered her body. What did Will use when he showered? He certainly didn’t smell like her bath gel. A damp bar of deodorant soap in the corner of the shower answered her question. Ah, yeah, she only used it when she smelled disgusting.

She stroke the pink razor against her thigh. No real reason to shave so high, it wasn’t like anyone would notice. Didn’t stop her, though. The loud exhaust fan made it hard to hear anything. No Sebastian barking, no knock on the door, nothing. Her fingers lathered the shampoo into a sudsy mess. Her eyes closed before it could burn them.

Did Will leave? That would be weird considering his clothes weren’t dry. Sure, he could wear wet clothes home or the bathrobe for that matter. Did he want to get away that bad? Could explain the peculiar look on his face when she mentioned showering. A sense of unease wrapped around her. An instinct warned her she wasn’t alone. Did he lock up as he left? Would it matter with Clint who bypassed locks?

The rungs on the shower curtain clattered across the rod. Tonya squeezed her already closed eyes tighter. This was it. Her life would end as a modern day version of the shower scene from Psycho. Did the actress fight back, she couldn’t remember? No way, she was going down without a fight. She reached toward the tub enclosure shelf where her long plastic handle back brush rested. Might not be much, but better than a pouf. A firm grip on the handle; she spun, opened her eyes, and brought the bath tool down with a resounding crack, right across Will’s shoulder.

“Oh my God, it’s you!”

He rubbed his reddened shoulder. “I guess that’s what I get for sneaking into the shower without asking.”

Her eyes journeyed from his chagrined expression to his abused shoulder, down to his flat stomach, a happy trail that led to a wilting arousal. The two pieces of the broken brush reminded her of her deed. No wonder, she had a sucky love life. Apparently, the lousy males, she left alone but clubbed the decent ones.

“I’m so sorry. Let me rub your shoulder. I can get you some ice for it.” She started to step out of the shower, but Will placed a restraining hand on her arm.

“First, you need to rinse your hair.” He guided her back into the stream of water. His fingers moved through her hair, lifting the soapy tendrils to the spray.

Was this actually happening to her? It could be a scene from a movie, all right. Not the horror genre, by a long shot. His breath tickled as he leaned closer his wet chest sliding against her back. Ah heaven, she inhaled deeply missing his comment since her body went into the hyper drive about the time she opened her eyes.

“Do you condition?”

Ah, had she ever heard any more romantic words? Wait, what did he say? Condition? She managed a nod, gesturing with her right hand to the top rim of the tub where the conditioner sat.

“Got it. “ A juicy exhale of the bottle indicated his current action.

Once in college she showered with a boyfriend. A popular magazine implied it would be a sensual experience. It was all elbows and complaints. True, she was the one who wanted to shower together and it was a very, small shower. Still, she thought the guy could have put more effort into it.

Strong masculine fingers worked the conditioner into her hair, massaging as they went. Her tension from her crazy day slipped away with each stroke. His hands moved from her scalp, down to her neck kneading away the stress. She leaned back into his hands as the water spray cooled. No matter, she had a smoking body behind her.

“Let’s get that rinsed off before the water turns ice cold.” His hands on her shoulders gently directed her under the spray. His fingers lifted from her shoulders to run through her hair again. “Hard to believe twenty-four hours ago, I imagined this very moment in the shower with you.”

“Really?” She turned in his arms, hooking her hands behind his neck. “You acted kind of cool tonight. Difficult to believe naughty thoughts were in your head when most of the time you were either talking home security or bonding with my dog.”

The hands that rested at her waist slid down to her ass. One hand on each butt cheek flexed before pulling her into his body. “Does that feel cool to you?”

She stretched forward to breathe her reply into his ear. “Exciting.” The movement nestled her closer to his apparent desire. Her lips landed a brief kiss near his temple, before resting her cheek against his beard roughen face. Paradise. The perfect ending to a day, wiping away all the trouble it took to get here. The blackberry scented steam added to the dreamlike atmosphere.

His fingers flexed as he pulled closer. Their slick skin adhered to each other. Perhaps, their attraction was fateful. “It’s almost like our bodies are trying to absorb each other. As if we were one once upon a time.”

“Hmm.” Will nuzzled her neck, making her legs go liquid. She’d probably dissolve into a puddle at his feet if her arms weren’t around his neck. He pulled back giving her a slow, sexy grin, she associated with him. “Maybe we could take this into another room?”

Her fingers played with the wet lock of hair plastered to his face. “Hmm, could do that. Were you thinking the garage, now that it’s clean?”

A playful slap on her ass jolted her. “Hey, it was a legitimate question. Maybe the kitchen. Fun with food and all that.”

Instead of answering, he dropped his hold on her. Cold along with a sense of isolation danced up her arms and slid down her back leaving confusion in its wake. Was she doing the right thing? She didn’t really know him. Wasn’t this the same mistake she made with Clint? If a detective had her running scared, what would a lawyer do to her?

The water stopped. Will straightened from turning off the water. Noticing her attention, he winked. Her expression had to be a weird one since she’d been considering his dangerousness as a spurned lover before they’d even done the deed.

“C’mon, let’s get you warmed up.” He wrapped one arm around her as he pulled the shower curtain back.

How could such a considerate man be bad? Oh, she knew what she was doing. Talking herself into doing exactly what she wanted even knowing the risks associated with it. Her upraised foot landed on the fluffy bath mat. Life had dealt her such a crappy hand lately. My luck I will slip and hit my head. Will would have to rush me to the hospital. The doctor will keep me overnight for observation while the rest of the staff laughed behind their hands as Will explains how the accident occurred. A couple younger nurses would give him lingering looks when he mentions shampooing my hair. The conniving angels of mercy will slip him their numbers as the orderly rolls me away. Her other foot made it safely onto the mat those nurses were going to have to look elsewhere. Tonight would be her lucky night. 

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Tuesday Tales: Does it Make You Giggle?

6/1/2015

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Today's prompt is giggle. See if you can find it.
 
A small stack of panties sat on the dryer. Tonya held out Will’s shirt inspecting it. Good, the oil spots weren’t there. Considering how he stepped in and got an especially obnoxious monkey off her back, washing his shirt didn’t even qualify as sufficient gratitude.

The bathroom door opened, spilling out fragrant steam. A damp Will stepped out, attired in only her cartoon beach towel. His damp curls gave a boyish appeal that his toned torso gave lie to. She whistled long and low. Not her best behavior, but nothing ever came out of her bathroom looking like sex on a stick before.

He held up a wad of dirty clothing. “I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind washing these for me. The pants are a washable synthetic blend. “

She stepped forward, taking the clothes from him. Water droplets glistened on his shoulders, drawing attention to their width and muscles rippling beneath the skin. Damn, how could she have ever thought he was average looking before. Their hands touched as she took his clothes. The tingle that had almost become routine zapped her extra hard. Keep your eyes on his face.

With the clothes tucked under her arm, she turned toward the washer. Black socks in the laundry tub; she pulled the pants inside out to negate the wear. She held the striped boxer briefs and grinned, imagining them on Will’s very fine ass. In her fantasy, she was taking them off, or he was flinging them at her like an exotic dancer, not washing them. The sounds of the fridge closing indicated Will’s location.

“Good luck finding something edible. Popcorn might be your best bet. I keep it in the freezer.” She heard the freezer door open, along with the click of Sebastian’s nails. Anything connected with food interested him.

“Thanks. Hope you don’t mind me helping myself.”

She held up his white T-shirt, debating if she should throw it in with the dark clothes. As long as it was on cold and quick wash, it should survive. “Hey,” she called out, feeling playful. “Anyone ever tell you that you have the body of an exotic dancer?” Her audaciousness made her giggle.

The sound of coughing, possibly choking, had Tonya dashing out of the laundry room. Will held onto the counter with one hand. Sebastian snapped up whatever fell to the floor. His jaws chewed rapidly as if he feared she’d steal his treasure.

Her upraised hand hesitated over his back. Laughter slipped out through the hand he had raised to his mouth. The Heimlich maneuver would not be necessary. Still, her hand landed lightly on his back. The long spread of warm skin tempted her. Hey, she was human.

Her fingers felt the shift and movement of his muscles as he straightened. With regret, she dropped her hand and looking into amused eyes.

He motioned in the direction of her dog. “I found a cheese stick, but Sebastian ended up with it. Your question surprised me.”

That made sense. Surprised her too. Her usual habit of keeping her lips shut when it came to sexy remarks went south went she met Will. The empty wine bottle sat on the table reminding her normal reticence probably went with the wine. “You never answered me.”

“Well,” he drew out the word. “No one used those exact words to me. Are you quite the expert on male dancers?”

“No, only once, about five or six years ago. Couldn’t remember the name, some touring company, I think. “

His eyes were on her with marked interest. She hurried to add. “It wasn’t like I wanted to go, but all the other women were and if I didn’t…” She stammered to a stop, her face reddening. She’d wanted to go.

A slow, mysterious smile pulled at his lips. “Did you have a good time?”

Ah, how to answer that. A dozen gorgeous guys parading around in next to nothing, acting if they were playing a starring role in her private dreams. The light bouncing off their glistening bodies, the women screaming, the numerous empty drink glasses littering their table, and a dancer with eyes like Will smiling down at her as he gyrated his hips, inviting her to tuck a twenty in his G-string. No, couldn’t be. The cartoon towel covered him thoroughly from waist to knees. She needed smaller towels.

“Odd question.”

He glanced down at the towel, which occupied her thoughts. “Do you have anything I can wear until my clothes are dry?”

“Ah yes, I have a closet full of clothes from all the various men who have passed through my home and left their clothes behind.” His eyebrows shot up at her statement.

“Of course not, but I do have a bathrobe that might work. It was my father’s. I took it as a remembrance since he spent so many Saturday mornings wearing it. It’s a little shabby, but should do the trick.”

“I’m not looking for anything fancy. Something that will cover me up enough for me to drive your car into the garage. Wouldn’t want the neighbors to get the wrong idea.”

His words made her snort. Wrong idea, yeah it sounded like any romantic action went out the window. “Yeah, a robe won’t give them the wrong impression.”

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    Morgan K Wyatt

    Secret Cravings author of contemporary and historical romances.

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