"I GOTCHA YOUR BACK"
Trying to lose the guy behind her, Reba left Massachusetts Avenue and hit the side streets. But it didn't work. She'd speed up, he'd speed up. She'd slow down, he'd slow down, until finally she was rear-ended when she had to slam on her brakes to keep from hitting students.
Bouncing off her Lexus, the Bronco careened into the front yard of the Longfellow House destroying the sign that told the story of General George Washington's six month residency among his British neighbors on Tory Row in Cambridge, Massachusetts.
Shocked students scattered off the sidewalk and onto brick pavement, but so far as Reba could see, none had been hurt. She was confident however, that the sedate multi-million dollar neighborhood had not seen that much chaos and destruction since the American Revolution.
For that reason, she knew she'd better escape while she could, as the entire area would soon be closed off. Circling back to Harvard Square she raced up Massachusetts Avenue to the relative safety of roof-top corporate parking near MIT in Central Square.
Making sure no one else was behind her, she entered the building and drove up ten floors. Because of the impending holiday, it was relatively empty of cars, but she knew once she got inside and in her office, she'd be safe.
Grabbing her purse from her briefcase, she checked its contents for the key card that would give her access to the parking level elevator. Not spotting it right away in the dim light, she gathered Fluffy into her arms and went over to open area that would provide the natural light she needed to sort through it on the concrete ledge.
Struggling to control the rambunctious puppy, a new blast of sirens made him bolt from her arms. The stretchy dog leash caught on Reba's purse and catapulted it out of her hands down along the outside concrete ledge where it came to a stop at a point beyond her reach.
The bad news was she now had no phone or access card to get in the building. The good news was Fluffy was not hurt, and her purse could eventually be retrieved by someone with long arms. The REALLY good news was that her car door was still open and her laptop was inside in her briefcase.
Realizing that for the time being, her situation was hopeless, she got back in the car, and sent an email to George as well as to the general office. With nothing left she could do, she resigned herself that all she could do was wait for someone from the company to show up and let her in the building.
Putting a big black vinyl sunshield across on the inside of the window, she sat with Fluffy and prayed someone from her office would discover her. Exhausted she soon nodded off to sleep with Fluffy licking away her tears.
* * * * * * *
Startled by the clicking car door lock, Reba stifled a scream seeing a man slide in the front seat and adjust the rearview mirror downward to reflect the backseat. "Hey, Reba," he said chiding her, "get up from there. It's just me. What's happening?"
"Oh, George! How did you find us?"
"Baby, it's a long story, all you need to know right now is that you are safe and I'm getting you out of here as soon as I put Fluffy out to do his business."
"How'd you get my keys to get in?"
"I saw your red purse on the ledge as soon as I walked towards your car. I think I got everything back into it. So relax, I'll get us out of here shortly."
Opening her trunk, he found blankets and pillows to make her comfortable and called Tim to have him contact the hotel and arrange for their things to be picked up and held at the office until they could get them.
"Where are we going George?"
"We're driving to a company hide away in Vermont. You'll be safe there and get a chance to unwind. The pup will like it there too. I may even send for Babe if the sanctuary will let her leave for a few weeks. She could run wild within the barb-wired compound. There are hundreds of acres."
* * * * * * * *
Safe and secure and knowing she was in good hands, Reba was able to sleep the entire way, most of it with Fluffy cuddled by her side. Once at the cabin, George made dinner, fed the dog, and made Reba rest with her feet up on the big leather ottoman.
"George, you are something else. How you fuss over me. I'd insist you stop if I didn't love it so much."
"It's my pleasure, pretty lady."
After dinner they sat on the sofa and talked into the night until he found himself putting his arms around he when she came close to crying as they reminisced. Feeling awkward and not knowing quite what to do, he put a record on the cabin's old wooden phonograph.
"Reba, may I have this dance? I guarantee you, it will make you feel better."
After the first one and a second glass of wine, she was smiling. That led to more dancing and the mood of the night began to change. When she tried to bring up what had transpired earlier, George kept insisting it could wait for another day and maybe they needed to call it a night.
"Look, why don't you slip into something comfortable. I have a clean dress shirt in the bathroom I left up here last month. And if you'll look in the cupboard next to the sink, you'll find any toiletry you could want along with a pile of towels."
* * * * * * * * * * * *
When she came out of the shower, she was smiling and refreshed. "Thank you. I'll have to admit, that sure felt good."
"Then can I talk you into one more dance?
"Just one, but like you said, I had better go to bed. I have this habit of getting sick when I don't get my sleep."
"I understand, but one more won't hurt and it will help me sleep."
.
Reba smiled and said, "How could I refuse?"
Like putty in his hands, by the second chorus of "When We Get Behind Closed Doors," George was sliding his hands under the hem of the shirt and caressing her thighs. Lifting it a little higher, he said, "Holy crap! You're naked under there . . . "
Not answering, she pressed herself against his palms and whispered, "I didn't have any clean panties to put on . . . sorry . . . maybe we should stop . . . this could be getting out of hand . . . "
"We can't stop, not just yet," he said dancing her towards the bedroom, "I have something I want to show you . . . "
Swooping her up into his arms, he carried her across the threshold into the cabin's huge rustic bedroom. With her legs wrapped around his waist and him holding her bare bottom, she gasped and cried out with each lamp he turned on. She kept closing her eyes and opening them, staring in disbelief at the walls filled with familiar photographs in white birch-bark frames.
Frantically she wiggled out of his arms down to the floor and raced around the room examining everything and holding the handcrafted items to her chest. Finally, she stared at him in disbelief and threw her arms around the man who was no longer a stranger. "Oh my God . . . YOU are MY husband. Now I remember everything!"
Picking her up and swinging her around George nuzzled her neck as he kissed her repeatedly. "Oh my darling, my darling, Reba. How I've longed for this day. I couldn't tell you before, that bastard John threatened to ruin my business and kill us both if I told you anything."
* * * * * * *
Collapsing on the old four poster log bed their bodies intertwined and they drifted off to sleep on ten year old embroidered Egyptian fine cotton sheets and pillowcases monogrammed with Reba's married name. Ironically, the linens had been part of her trousseau from Great Aunt Matilda who'd ultimately made it possible for Reba to free herself from the man who'd pretended to be her husband for the past three years.
A few hours later, George woke up with a cramp in his calf. Not being able to go back to sleep, he got up and took a hot shower. An hour later he returned pain free to join his long-lost bride.
Climbing in besides her, the old feather mattress rolled and put him face to face with Reba's fluttering eyes. It was then it dawned on him that she was feigning sleep just like she used to do--every time before breaching a new subject. Sleepily she murmured, "Tell me George, did you love that woman I saw you with back at the hotel?"
"We don't need to talk about that now. Let me instead show ya' how much I LOVE YOU."
Her eyebrows shot up skeptically. Reba was back. The thought of her being her same old feisty self made him chuckle inside.
"Look Reba, she was nothing to me. It's just one of those crazy things that happens."
"I want proof. Show me!"
Lifting a hand to her face, he cupped it and stared into her eyes as if he could not get enough of her presence, but at the same time, wishing she'd shut-up the hell up and kiss him.
Outlining her lips with his fingertips he decided to deal with the subject head-on. "We were two ships passing in the night. We simply blasted our horns at each other in the fog."
"Do you have ANY idea how lame that sounds?"
"I know. And this will sound lamer yet, but looking back, I'm sure 'that woman' drugged my drinks and that your so-called husband, put her up to it. Do you believe me?"
"Look, George. I'm sorry. I have no right to quiz you like this . . . "
"Reba, trust me, it was a cock-sneeze. It meant nothing. It's you I love and only you, I always have. How could I not? You're the most wonderful woman in the world."
"George, I love you, too. But maybe I'll end up boring you. Are you sure you want to be with me forever."
"I do my beautiful woman. Forever."
"That's what I want too. But no more keeping things from me. No more dual identities."
"And no more clothes," he added.
"What! No clothes? she laughed tickling him in the ribs, "Not even on a part-time basis?"
Poking her back, he reached for the first button on the front of her dress and unbuttoned it. "I want you so much, let me show you one button at a time."
In response she slid the zipper on his pants down a few notches at a time until a longer rasp left him totally open and bare--wet and thick and solid in her grip--but not for long. Their clothing hit the old plank floor and soon their bodies were dry thrusting against each other until it all became to much for either of them to handle. George reached over and took a condom out of his wallet and had her help him roll it on.
Surrendering himself to the sounds of her heavy breathing, the heat of her,and the intoxicating scent of her arousal was easy. She needed him. He needed her. It was a done deal. Forcing himself in between the juncture of her thighs, he found her wet and snug. So snug. So tight, it was all he could do to keep himself from coming once he was in.
Gritting his teeth when she bore down on his cock, he tried to divert his mind so he wouldn't come to soon from the intensity of her vice-like grip. He had to ask. "Reba, how long has it been for you?"
Stopping abruptly, she stared at him in utter disbelief.
"George, what the hell is the matter with you? Do you really want to talk about that now? "
He shook his head. "No, forget it. It was a dumb thing to say."
"I didn't mean to snap at you like that, but you know damn well what happened with Gabe in California . . . so don't pretend you don't."
As if to punish her for giving him lip, he thrust his cock into her with new vigor. And as much as she wanted to make him pay a little bit for being so stupid, she couldn't help herself from returning his thrusts with equal vigor and passion.
AND THAT DID IT.
He was beyond caring at this point--even if she'd fucked half the city of Pal Alto, California.
Testicles tight and his jaw set, he thrust back and forth until she held every inch of him--until he felt the muscles of her legs tense when he leaned down to suck her hard nipples to near climax and she hollered out from the mind blowing pleasure.
THEN HE STOPPED.
"Don't stop now," she yelled at him.
"No, no, I won't, I promise to be good from now on in," he said in mock remorse.
Pulling back slowly, he plunged into her with a final hard conclusive thrusts, intensity such it caused her body to clench the faster they fucked.
Her back bowing hard and her inner muscles clamping down harder and harder, she yelled out, "Yes, do it to me, do it, fuck me baby, fuck me."
Gasping for breath he answered, "That's it baby, let it roll, let it roll, Omagawd, omagawd, omagawd . . . yes . . . yes!"
Jerking and then holding himself still, he filled her to overflowing with his warm rich seed.
"Are you okay?"
Nodding she whispered, "Yes . . . oh yes. How did I ever live without you all this time . . . "
Spooned in his big protective arms she soon fell fast asleep.
But sleep for him, didn't come so easily. It was all too sweet not to savor her lying in his arms and marveling she was at last, beside him. "Fat chance," he whispered in her ear, "that we'll make it back to work soon."
He didn't know if she heard him or not, but that was okay. Time would give Babe and Fluffy a chance to get to know each other through the big picture window that overlooked the ski slopes . . . time would give he and Reba a chance to get to know each other again . . . time would let him deal with all his problems . . . Donnie could handle the bad guys without him in Harvard Square . . . Gabe could look forward to a long overdue promotion back in Pal Alto. And good old Tim? If he continued to play his role as well as he had this past week, he'd make him President of North American Operations.
Details could wait. For now, he had everything he needed. NOW was exactly where he wanted to be--spooning with the love of his life.
Stirring she softly moaned, "Are you still there, are we safe?"
"Yeah Baby, I gotcha your back."
************************
THE END.
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Submitted by:
Madison
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