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The Scars We Wear

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“Yes, you can call my cell, Angel,” Dyanne instructed her assistant over the phone as she headed out of the city. “But, only if it’s important. I’m only going to be away for the week, five days, then I’ll be back in the office on Wednesday,” she paused for a moment to shift her attention on the traffic merging onto the highway, then continued. “I need you to follow up on the TopShop shoot. Please have the test shots in my office when I get back, and don’t forget about Monica’s test with Helmut. She’ll need a car to his studio if her mother can’t make it.”

Only after Angel reassured her that the office would run smoothly while she was away did Dyanne finally disconnect. Taking a deep breath, then slowly exhaling, Dyanne felt the stress easing away already. With each mile she put between herself and her office in downtown Chicago, she felt renewed.

“This is so refreshing! Why haven’t I done this before?” she said out loud to herself, and although the question was rhetorical, she answered herself, “Because I wouldn’t be where I am today if I did. I wouldn’t have the ‘best boutique agency in Chicago,” she said, quoting a recent article in the local fashion magazine highlighting her business savvy and successful model agency.

Turning up the volume on the radio, Dyanne lost herself in the music and sense of freedom. She sang along as she drove out on the open road with no deadlines to meet, no clients to schmooze, or wanna-be models to coddle. As free as she felt at the moment, Dyanne would never give up the business, especially after all her hard work, especially after all the naysayers four years ago. The professional modeling world laughed at the former model turned business woman when she decided to base her agency in her hometown, Chicago.

The midwest, they scoffed, is for cow pastures and cornfields, not couture.

Dyanne knew she had her work cut out for her with markets like Los Angeles and New York to compete with. Most unsigned models moved to those big cosmopolitan cities to make it in the business, not Chicago, but she loved the city where she was born and raised, and ultimately discovered. After signing as a model with an exclusive agency at the age of seventeen, she had traveled the world, wore the finest designer garments while strutting down the most coveted runways and featured in high end glossies. Youthful genetics kept her in the business past her prime even when most models aged out, but then Dyanne started to think in long term goals.

She had been driving for over four hours now, towards a quaint little bed and breakfast lake house in northern Wisconsin. A light dusting of snow had began to fall. Nothing to make the roads too dangerous yet, just enough to create a serene and scenic drive as she winded through the back roads. As she sang along with the radio, she barely heard her phone ringing.

Turning down the volume on the radio, she answered the phone using her hands-free device.

“Hey,” she answered to the broken voice on the other end, “Hello? I’m sorry you’re breaking up...Angel, is that you? Angel?”

The signal bars flickered from two bars to one then none.

“Great!” she said sarcastically as the call dropped.

Immediately, the phone rang again. She grabbed the phone from the console and held it to her ear, “Hello? Oh, Angel, sorry about earlier, I’m losing signal out here. Yeah, yeah, I’m doing great.” She then listened as Angel informed her that most of the TopShop shoot was unusable and they’ll need to reshoot. “What? Angel, I’m sorry, you’re breaking up, again. Hello? Angel?”

Dyanne had her eyes off the road for only two seconds to check the signal, when she looked up, a huge antlered deer stood in the middle of the road.

“Shit!” she muttered dropping the phone to grab the steering wheel with both hands to swerve  around the frightened animal. She did so successfully, but then lost control of the wheel, sliding down the shallow ditch on the side of the road. The car stopped abruptly when it hit the inner slope causing the airbag to deploy and Dyanne to bang her head forcibly against it.

Dyanne didn’t know how long she had been out when she finally came to.

“Oow,” she moaned as she tried sitting back in the seat to get her bearings. That’s when she heard a muffled voice followed by a sharp tapping sound. She turned to look out the driver side window where she saw a bearded white man wearing a heavy denim jacket with a black hoodie pulled up over his head. He motioned for her to unlock the door.

Having grown up in the inner city with hard earned street smarts, Dyanne was skeptical about opening the door to a complete stranger. Instead she rolled the window down a few inches.

“Ma’am, are you alright?” the guy asked, deeply concerned.

“Yeah, I’m okay. I just…” Dyanne tried to touch her forehead and suddenly felt dizzy.

“You’re bleeding,” he noticed a small gash across her forehead.

“What?” Dyanne asked staring blankly before she passed out again.

.oOo.

Rom acted fast. Reaching in through the window, he unlocked the door, unbuckled her seatbelt then carried her to his truck. After securing her into the passenger’s seat, he grabbed a warm blanket from the cab of his truck to tightly wrapped around her. He made sure her car was locked and secure before getting back in the driver’s seat of his truck.

For a moment, he just sat there not knowing what he was doing. Rom’s instincts and training had gotten the better of him and now he sat with an unknown, unconscious woman in his truck. He mentally punched himself in the face for playing the hero. This was the last thing he needed in his life, but seeing the wound on her forehead was still bleeding, he shifted into drive.

As he started down the road, he carefully weighed his options. The nearest hospital was at least ninety minutes away and while the roads were clear now, by the time that he drove there, heavier snowfall would have the roads impassable. He didn’t want to be stuck in town with this unconscious stranger with questions he couldn’t answer. His other option, his place was only twenty minutes up the back roads and he had an adequate first aid kit. With his training, he could bandage her up and look after her until she came to.

He turned to look at his driving partner, Wally, a snowy grey husky mix who sat between himself and the woman. “Looks like we’re going to have company tonight,” he said as he pulled off the shoulder and headed home.

.oOo.

For the second time today, Dyanne woke up not knowing how long she had blackd out. This time, she didn’t know where she was either. She opened her eyes and realized she was indoors, but not in a hospital. She looked around at her surroundings and realized she was lying on a couch. She slowly sat up and swung her feet to the floor. Looking around, she saw that she was in a small house or cabin.

“Ah, you’re finally awake,” Rom said as he walked into the room holding a steaming mug. He placed the mug on the wooden coffee table before her as he settled in the chair across from her. She vaguely remembered his bearded face staring at her through the window of her car. She remembered being cautious of opening her door to the stranger.

“Who are you? Where am I?” Dyanne asked trying to free herself of the blanket tightly wound around her.

“You shouldn’t try to move too much,” he warned her. “Here, drink this,” Rom placed the warm mug into her hands.

“Why? What happened? What’s going on?” she asked concerned.

“You don’t remember? You had an accident. Looks like you bumped your head pretty bad. I bandaged you up, but I think you might have a concussion.”

Dyanne looked down into the steamy dark liquid skeptically. She gave the strong aroma a suspicious stiff.

“What? If I wanted to harm you, I had plenty of time to do so while you were passed out,” he admitted to her.

“Maybe you wanted me awake and aware of the painful death I was facing at your hands,” she said savoring the warmth of the mug in her hands despite her hesitation.

“Why would I go through the trouble of calling a tow truck to get your car out of the ditch? I did not put anything in the coffee. Now drink it before you pass out again!” he commanded impatiently.

Dyanne tipped the mug to her lips and took a small sip. She immediately contorted her face in disgust, “You were right. You didn’t put anything in it. No sweetener or cream, ew!”

Rom jumped up and went into the kitchen right off the living room. He came back with a canister of sugar and a half full gallon of milk.

“Well, actually I prefer Splenda with two splashes of soy milk,” she requested.

“This is all I have, princess. Take it or leave it,” Rom said with a tight smile.

“I guess it will do.”

Dyanne watched as he dumped a teaspoon of sugar into her mug followed by two splashes of milk. She stopped his hand before he added more.

Rom couldn’t help rolling his eyes as he returned the items to the kitchen. He entertained the thought that she was more pleasant to deal with when she was unconscious. Immediately, he felt bad for such a thought. He didn’t want to wish harm on anyone, not even a spoiled urbanite such as his unexpected guest.

Dyanne took a sip of her coffee then grimaced. “A slight improvement,” she nodded as she sat the mug back down on the coffee table.  

When he sat across from her again she asked, “So, maybe you’re not a psycho serial killer because you saved my life. Could you be my knight in shining armor, or is it flannel armor?” she teased him based on the blue plaid flannel shirt that he wore.

He shook his head, uncomfortable with the title, “No, I’m not anyone’s knight.”

“Then who are you?” she asked curious as she stared at him. Although her initial impression was cautious of the stranger, upon further inspection she saw that he was quite a handsome man under the beard.

“You can call me Rom,” he said without explanation.

Dyanne smiled, “Well, Rom, I’m Dyanne. Thanks for saving me.”

“I didn’t really save you. You weren’t in much danger, just that the weather is starting to turn, and I didn’t want you to be stranded out there on the road,” he admitted, then asked curiously, “Where were you heading to anyway?”

“A little bed and breakfast up in Elston,” Dyanne reached for the mug of coffee again, not for want of taste, but the warmth was soothing. After a short sip, she asked, “Where exactly are we?”

“In my home,” Rom simply said.

Dyanne looked around the room, it was a small boxy room sparsely furnished save the basic couch, chair, coffee table and a small table in the corner. The only thing of interest was a wall of leather bound books and randomly arranged wood carved figurines of woodland creatures. “I’m guessing you live alone because your taste of decor is just as bleak as this coffee.”

“Well, Martha Stewart was too busy to stop by and help me feng shui the place,” he snapped back sarcastically.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. It’s just, well, obviously there’s isn’t a woman in the house. You’re not married?” Dyanne asked just a bit curious.

“Can I assume then that you live alone? And you’re not married?”

“And why would you assume that?”

“Well, obviously,” he mocked her, “What man would let his woman drive alone to the middle of nowhere by herself?” he said, then added, “Unless, you’re meeting up with him at the b&b?”

“No, I’m not meeting anyone,” she admitted, then explained “I’ve been working non-stop and needed a break from work. Just some time to myself, you know. So, just how far from Elston are we anyway?”

“About another two or three hours drive.”

“Oh, great! I bet I can still make it for my reservation before it gets dark,” she stood up quickly causing herself to wobble and lose balance. Rom moved quickly as he reached out to grab her waist, steadying her as he gently sat her back down on the couch.

“Whoa! Easy there. I don’t think you’re driving anywhere today.”

“I’m fine,” Dyanne said with his strong arm firmly wrapped around her waist. She couldn’t help thinking that in another time or place, his hold on her would be welcomed. Dyanne quickly turned away from him and that thought as he pulled his hands away. “Um, I’ll just take this coffee to go and I bet I won’t fall asleep for another forty-eight hours or so.”

“How do you expect to get to Elston? Your car’s in a ditch on the side of the road. The tow truck won’t be able to get it out until tomorrow morning.”

“You can drive me to Elston. You said it’s not that far. I’ll just call to have my car driven to me in Elston first thing in the morning. Speaking of calls, where’s my phone? Where’s my bags?”

After explaining that he had her bags in his truck, Rom went to retrieve them. Along in the cabin, Dyanne slowly stood up, testing her strength before she wandered about the cozy room. Wally followed her every step as she examined the shelves with leather bound books and small intricately carved woodland animal figurines, ranging from foxes, bears, deers, and rabbits.

“He’s harmless, is he?” Dyanne asked the dog. “I mean, he did save me and nurse my wound. He collects animal figurines and he has a sweetie like you. How bad of a person could he be?”

The dog just wagged his tail in response, then an icy cold breeze announced Rom as he came through the door lightly dusted with fresh snow. He carried a large Louis Vuitton overnight bag and purse.

“It’s really starting to come down out there,” he said locking the door behind himself. He shook the snow off as Wally immediately came over to inspect her luggage. Rom gave him a vigorous scratch behind the ears then sent him off.

Dyanne picked up her purse, digging inside in search for her phone. She came out empty handed, “Where’s my phone?” she asked then realized that she was on the phone right before the accident.

“Sorry, I don’t get good service out here anyway. I do have a landline if you need to make a call,” he offered.

Dyanne also realized that he’d only brought in her overnight bag, which contained just her toiletries and makeup. “Are the other bags still in your truck?” she asked.

“That’s all there was.”

Dyanne groaned, “No, I had two more bags. They were in the trunk of my car.”

“I just grabbed what I saw. I figured you had personal stuff in your purse that shouldn’t be left on the side of the road, so I grabbed that and then I saw this bag in the backseat.”

“So, my other two bags are still in my car, that’s in a ditch in the middle of nowhere?”

“It could be worst. You could still be in that ditch,” Rom pointed out.

He couldn’t believe how ungrateful she was behaving. Rom cursed himself for being such a good Samaritan, it had always caused him more problems that he really didn’t need.

Seeing the scowl on Rom’s face, Dyanne softened her tone. “I guess I should be more thankful, huh? You did rescue me,” Dyanne forced a smile. “I mean, it’s just one night. I can get my things in the morning before driving to Elston. We can stop by my car and get my phone and luggage.”

Rom agreed, although he had his doubts about them successfully leaving his driveway with the rate the snow was coming down. “Let me show you where you can clean up.” He led her back to the small bathroom that was next to the only bedroom in the small cabin.

Dyanne reminded herself to be gracious, as she smiled politely before closing the door between them. She fumbled with the knob for a second, surprised to see that the door didn’t have any locks. Alarmed, she pulled the door open again to see her host walking away.

“What? Is something wrong?” he asked turning towards her.

“Um, yeah. There are no locks on this door,” she said concerned.

“I thought we agreed I’m not a psycho killer,” Rom teased, then noticed her skeptical look. “Don’t worry. You’re actually probably safer here than anywhere else.”

With a nervous laugh, Dyanne said, “Yeah, because you’re my knight in flannel armor.”

Rom shook his head at the idea of playing knight for her, “I’m not a hero, but I am a decent guy. You’ll have privacy, I promise.”

Although Dyanne had only known Rom for a few minutes, she believed him to be a man who kept his promises. This time, her smile was genuine as she took in his tall frame filling up the tiny hallway. She looked into his deep dark eyes and for a moment saw troubled emotions.

“I don’t know why I do, but I trust you,” she said before closing the door again.

Alone in the bathroom, Dyanne leaned against the door for a minute. Not to keep him out, but to keep herself together. The trauma of the accident coupled with being laid up in a cabin with a dangerously handsome stranger was making her feel things she hadn’t felt in a while. In her younger years, as an international model, she was fast and loose with men. As she matured and grew more focused on the business end of the industry, she’d also grown more cautious about the men she allowed into her life. Dyanne imagined her younger self meeting a guy like Rom and the thought brought a big smile to her face.

That smile faded when she finally took a look in the mirror. Rom did a good job of bandaging her up, but when she removed the bandage, she saw the nasty two-inch gash across her right brow.

“Oh my god!” she muttered to herself in the mirror. She raised her hand to the bruised and swollen area then winced. Pouting, she wondered how big of a scar it would leave behind.

As soon as she was back in Chicago, she would make plans with her stylist to cut bangs in her dark tresses, hoping that would be enough until she healed. Long term, she was thinking of finding a good plastic surgeon. So far, at the age of thirty-five, she’d prided herself for not succumbing to any type of cosmetic surgery, especially to her face. In her business, it was a rarity, but she prized natural and healthy beauty over the overly thin and plastic-featured standards of others.

She opened her toiletry bag and began refreshing herself. When she felt halfway decent, she left the bathroom. She was suddenly hit with intense hunger pangs that was only increased by the delicious aroma filling the small cabin. She followed the smells to the kitchen where she saw Rom standing over the stove stirring a bubbling pot.

“Feeling better?” he asked from over his shoulder as she approached.

“As best as I can,” she said as she peeked over his shoulder. “Mm, that smells really good. What are you making?”

“Venison meatballs and spaghetti. I figured you might be hungry,” he said.

“I am,” Dyanne rubbed her stomach.

“Should be ready soon,” he said.

After the bathroom door lock situation, Dyanne shouldn’t have been surprised that Rom didn’t have a full set of dishes or silverware. He served her pasta on the only plate he owned while he took his in the only bowl that he owned. They sat at the tiny table in the living room designated as the dining room.

Wally padded over to Dyanne and begged for a meatball.

“Ignore him, he’ll go away,” Rom instructed her.

 

“But he’s so cute. How could I resist that handsome face?” she said as she forked over a juicy meatball to the dog. Content with his meal, Wally sat at her feet, wagging his tail while Rom rolled his eyes.

After a few minutes of silence over the meal, Dyanne spoke, “It’s so quiet here.”

“Peaceful,” he corrected her.

“I guess,” she shrugged. “I mean, there’s probably isn't anyone around here for miles. Just you, Wally, and now, me.”

Rom didn’t respond as he just continued eating his meal.

“So, you’re not a killer, but you live out here hidden from the rest of the world.”

A thought jumped into her head that she hadn’t considered before. She stared at him, studying his face and features. The lower half of his face was covered with his full dark beard and mustache, thick yet well maintained. Even so, Dyanne could tell that he had a strong jawline and chin. His lips, framed by the facial hair were full, yet always set in a thin tight scowl. His long slightly crooked nose had telltale signs of being broken at least once. Again, his dark mysterious eyes stirred her, she couldn’t tell if it was menace or sadness behind the darkness.

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In the world of modeling, if she had to categorize his look, she would say ruggedly handsome bad boy, the type you see in commercials for pick-up trucks and camping equipment for outdoors adventures.

Rom noticed her staring at him and grew uncomfortable with the attention, “Is there a problem?”

“You’re wanted, aren’t you?”

“Huh? What?”

“Just because you’re not a killer doesn’t mean you’re not some other kind of criminal. Maybe a bank robber or some kind of mafia drug lord or something.”

Rom dropped his fork in his empty bowl and laughed mockingly at her, “If I had either of those professions, you would think I would live a little bit flashier, or at least own two plates.”

Dyanne shrugged, “I don’t know, maybe you’re lying low, incognito, trying not to draw attention to yourself out here.”

“I’m not a thief or a drug lord or any other kind of criminal mastermind,” Rom assured her.

“So, why? Why do you live out here, all by yourself? Who are you hiding from?” Dyanne asked curiously.

“I'd rather not talk about this with you,” he said harshly as he pushed away from the table and carried his bowl to the sink.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry,” Dyanne said pushing around the remains of spaghetti on her plate.

The rest of the evening was painstakingly quiet as Dyanne sat on the couch with her fingers buried deep into Wally’s warm soft fur. Rom sat in the chair across the room with a sharp knife and a small block of wood. He began whittling at the wood, carving out his latest creature.

Dyanne suddenly remembered that he mentioned he had a landline phone, “Can I make a phone call?” she asked, “I bet my assistant is worried sick about me. I was talking to her right before the accident.”

Rom gestured toward the kitchen as he continued scraping wood shavings.

She went to the old phone that sat on a charging base. When she picked up to dial Angel’s number, she was met with complete silence. “Oh, come on! You have to be kidding me!” she said in frustration, then yelled to Rom, “There’s no dial tone.”

Rom joined her, he pressed the cradle button then listened to the silence. “Line is out. Must be snowing heavier than I thought and brought down a line.”

“What am supposed to do now? I’m stranded here, with you, a complete stranger, bored out of my mind and now the only phone line is out!” Dyanne ranted with increasing hysteria.

“Hey, it’s just for the night. I’ll drive you out to Elston first light. Their lines are probably fine. Then you could make all the calls you want.”

“In the meanwhile, I'm supposed to just sit here staring at your lovely little handiwork,” she said sarcastically.

“Thanks,” Rom accepted the backhanded compliment before going over to the shelf where he pulled out a deck of cards. He tossed them to her, “Entertain yourself, play solitaire or something.”

“Fine,” Dyanne took the cards and sat on the couch.

.oOo.

Dyanne laid back on the couch, pulling the blanket around her. She willed herself to sleep, but it didn’t work. Either the strong black coffee worked on keeping her awake or the lack of sound was too deafening. No traffic noises, no police or fire trucks blaring sirens, no noisy neighbors up all night. Just utter silence.

Sitting up in the darkness, she groaned, “I give up.”

Dyanne let her eyes adjust for a minute before she stood and blindly felt her way to the bathroom. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt something furry brush against her bare leg.

“Jesus Christ! Wally!” Dyanne cursed under her breath at the innocent dog. When her heart rate steadied, she continued to the bathroom and managed to turn on the light. The brightness of the light was blinding after all the darkness.

After finishing her business, she washed her hands and splashed her face with cool water. She took a minute to check her wound, still tender and raw. By the time she left the bathroom, she was fully awake and bored. She started to head back to the couch, but a sound startled her. A low, anguished voice coming from Rom’s bedroom.

Concerned, Dyanne moved over to the door and listened. His speech was slurred and heavy with sleep, so she couldn’t make out anything specific he was saying. She carefully cracked open the door feeling a little bit of a peeping tom for doing so.

Rom was sprawled out in the middle of his bed. Sheets were rumpled and kicked away, revealing that Rom preferred sleeping only in boxer briefs. Dyanne couldn’t help but take in the view. He had a nice physique, nicely sculpted chest and abs and strong thick thighs. It was obvious that his olive toned skin was not seasonal, but likely of genetics. She’d also noticed that his body was randomly scarred with small slashes and gouges from the neck down to his legs.

“My god! What happened to you?” she wondered softly to herself as she stood over his sleeping form.

“U.S. Marine Lieutenant Captain Roman Hall, Squad Unit 48-7,” Rom mumbled. He repeated this phrase over and over. As he did so, his words became more and more hurried and jumbled together until he was just mumbling incomprehensible nonsense.

Dyanne was confused, trying to piece together as much as she could from his frantic words. She realized that he must have post-traumatic stress disorder, reliving some hellish nightmare from the war he fought in. She reached out to shake him awake, to end his nightmare, but as soon as her hand was a half inch away, Rom’s hand caught hers in an iron tight grip.

Dyanne gasped loudly as his eyes flew open. “I, um, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” Dyanne couldn’t find words as her heart threatened to jump out of her chest.

“What are you doing in here?” Rom asked staring at her.

“I couldn’t sleep. I heard a noise and saw that you were having a nightmare,” Dyanne admitted.

Rom abruptly dropped her hand, realizing that she was wincing in pain from his hold on her. He wanted to be angry with her, but the fact that he could’ve really hurt her scared himself, “You should not be in here. You should go back to sleep.”

“But can you?” Dyanne asked concerned, then added, “It must have been really intense over there. You have nightmares all the time, don’t you?”

Rom ignored her probing questions.

“And these?” Dyanne sat next to him on the edge of the bed as she reached out to touch his scarred chest. Rom flinched away from her touch as if an electric current ran between them.

“Don’t!” he warned her.

“What happened to you over there?” Dyanne asked softly as she pulled her hand back.

“It’s a war. What do you think happened?” he threw back at her.

“I don’t know, I don’t personally know anyone serving over there. I guess, I haven’t really thought about it much, and I’m sorry because you probably can’t stop thinking about it,” she said sincerely.

Rom just stared at her in silence.

Dyanne dared to touch him again. She raised her hand, placed it on a small jagged scar that pulled and puckered his flesh. The pink shiny scar tissue was about two inches below his heart. This time he didn’t flinch when she touched him, just glared at her with a warning look.

The thing about Dyanne was that she didn’t heed warnings, so she continued tracing her fingertips along the textured skin. Without thinking about the consequences of her actions, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to the scar. She found another scar and kissed it, too, then another and another.

Moved by her actions, Rom placed a finger under her chin and tilted her face up to his. They stared at each other, words unspoken before Dyanne leaned forward to kiss him. As sweetly as she kissed his scarred chest, she did so his lips.

His finger on her chin moved to caress her lips when they parted. It has been a long while since he’d experienced the sweetness of a kiss like hers. He was hesitant about taking more from her, a broken man like himself couldn’t return her sweetness and gentleness.

Dyanne smiled at him as he traced her lips. She didn’t know why she’d kissed his wounds, just that it was the only way she knew to thank him for his service and to thank him for rescuing her today. Despite his constant look of warning, she leaned forward to kiss him again. At first, her kiss was just as sweet as the first kiss, then she slipped her tongue out to taste his lips. She teased his lips with the tip of her tongue until he relaxed his own lips and met her tongue with his own. His hand moved to the back of her neck as he pulled her into him, deepening the kiss, plunging his tongue into her giving mouth.

Dyanne moved so that she straddled his lap. She placed her hands against his chest, caressing him, letting her fingers tangle in his dense chest hair. She lowering her hand to his chiseled abdomen, then back up to his chest. She wasn’t surprised that he was getting heavily aroused when she felt his growing erection pressed against her. Moaning softly, she slid the dampening crotch of her panties against the thick tool, making him throb and grow even thicker.

“Make love to me,” she whispered between kisses.

“No,” he said against her lips, even against his own urges.

Dyanne pulled away as she pulled her blouse off, revealing her black satin bra, but the dark purple diagonal bruise on her chocolate toned skin caught his attention more. He looked up at her questioning as he ran his fingers gingerly along her injured skin. Dyanne caught his hand when he covered her right breast and held him there. She held his huge palm cupped over her breast letting him feel her taut peak and how much she wanted him.

Rom sat up and kissed her collarbone where the bruise started, then down across her chest. As he did so, Dyanne unhooked her bra and pulled it off. She watched as Rom lowered his mouth to her breast, taking the dark chocolate dipped morsel between his teeth. She moaned softly, watching as his tongue flicked the tight nub.

“Make love to me,” she requested of him again.

“No,” he said again before dragging his teeth across her nipple eliciting a deep groan from Dyanne.

“Why not? You certainly aren’t incapable,” she said as she ground against his hard-on wedged between them.

“You want tenderness and sweetness, I can’t give you that. I don’t know anything about lovemaking, just fucking,” he admitted.

Dyanne dug her fingers into his thick dark hair and pulled his head back sharply, “Then fuck me.”

In one fell swoop, he grabbed her ass and deftly rolled over in the bed, reversing their positions so that he straddled her. He pushed her back down in bed when she tried to sit up to kiss him. He removed her damp underwear and tossed them across the room, his underwear soon joined them.

Rom leaned over her, cradled between her bent knees as he kissed her hungrily, showing no mercy as his mouth feasted on what she gave so freely. He left her craving more as he lowered his mouth to her neck, then he moved even lowered between her thighs.

Dyanne gasped loudly as his tongue lashed at her clit.

“Oh fuck!” she cried out digging her fingers into his head of dark curls as he relentlessly licked and sucked on her honeyed lips. Her orgasm came in a roaring wave, clouding her senses in a daze of pleasure.

As she was getting her senses back, Rom moved up her body, nipping at her brown skin along the way. He made his way up to her lips. Dyanne wrapped her arms around his neck as they kissed passionately, at the same time Rom pushed his length into her moist cunt.

She clung to him speechless as he thrust into her depths, but with each thrust she was eager for another. Her hands traveled down the heated skin of his back that rippled with his flexing muscles and landed on his tight ass. She held him close, she wanted him closer than flesh would allow.

Rom pulled away from her lips to stare down into her hazel eyes, and made direct eye contact with her, studying her every facial expression as he brought her to another orgasm. She was beautiful. More beauty than he deserved to have in his life. That feeling struck him with heavy internal turmoil.

Fuck, he thought to himself, realizing that he wanted to keep her safe and make her happy more than anything else right now. He realized that he was willing to put his life on the line for this woman who so willingly gave herself so completely to him. He didn’t like that realization, he didn’t want to be anyone’s hero anymore. He had paid his price of being the savior.

He withdrew from her just before she climaxed and spanked her thigh harshly, “Turn over,” he grunted.

Dyanne obeyed, rolling over to her stomach, she pushed her ass back to him and was met with a forceful thrust as he entered her again. He grabbed her hips as he pulled her closer and thrust deeper.

“Yes!” Dyanne cried out as her body shook with pleasure.

Rom didn’t ease up as he pumped into her over and over, bouncing her round ass off his thighs with each hard thrust. It was better this way, not to look into her face, into her eyes. He could fuck her and not care what happens tomorrow.

Dyanne grew weak in the knees and collapsed forward on the bed clutching the sheets and pillows. She felt him lean over her, his chest hair mopping her sweat-sheened back as he continued fucking her hard and deep. Dyanne enjoyed the solid weight of his warm body on top of her and the relentless pumping of his hard cock.

She turned her face to the side, “I want you to feel you come inside me.”

That was one request that Rom could handle as he felt his balls tightened. He pushed her further into the mattress and with one final thrust, he became undone. His seed shot deep within her. He grunted at the sensation of releasing into her warmth.

Dyanne smiled satisfied as they both drifted off to sleep.

.oOo.

Dyanne was now developing a thing where she woke up, not remembering when she fell asleep. Only this time, it quickly came back to her, remembering the incredible sex she shared with Rom last night. Bright sunlight fell across her nude form through the cracks of the curtains, she moaned as she stretched out in bed. There was a slight tinge of pain in her pussy from being fucked so roughly, yet she didn’t mind it at all.

The bed next to her was warm yet empty. She moaned again, taking in his masculine scent and the musky scent left over from their sex. Reluctantly, she sat up, swung her feet out of bed and scanned the room for her top and panties. Instead she found one of Rom’s flannel shirts over a chair. Dyanne went to pull it on, feeling cozy in its warm fuzziness. The hem nearly touched her knees and she had to roll the sleeves to her wrists just to use her hands to button it up. She headed for the kitchen in search of her lover.

Rom was opening a cupboard and pulling a tin can of coffee. He looked over his shoulder at her, then did a double take. The sight of her standing there in his shirt with tousled hair and her long brown legs sticking out below his shirt did a number to his ironclad willpower.

“Good morning,” she greeted him with lips that were slightly swollen from a night of passionate kisses.

“Yeah, good morning,” he said while aware that his penis was throbbing to be inside her again.

It was just one night, a few hours really, but it was the first time in two years that he had slept without the nightmares. Whether the credit was due to Dyanne herself or the complete exhaustion of fucking, Rom was willing to only admit the latter. He tried to stay focus, “Um, I was just starting to make a pot of coffee.”

Dyanne grinned as she teased him, “I’ve had your coffee and I’ll politely pass. Besides, I had a very restful night of sleep.” She moved closer to him and kissed his bare shoulder before wrapping her arms around his chest.

Rom turned in her arms, “Did you?” He could help wrapping his arms around her, his hands went down to her butt and pulled her even closer to him.

“Yes, it was good, really good.” Dyanne felt his cock pressed against her. She smiled as she leaned forward as if to kiss him, then stopped, waiting for him to make a move to kiss her back. “I have to let you know, I’ve never done anything like this before. You’re still a complete stranger to me, Rom, yet I want you more than I’ve wanted anyone else,” she admitted.

Before Rom could wrap his brain around her admission and respond to it, Dyanne knelt in front of him and pulled his boxers down. His thick cock saluted her as she ran her hands up and down the length. With the tip of her tongue, she teased the pulsating thick vein running along the shaft.

As he stood there, Rom tried not to think about anything else except her mouth on his cock. He tried not to think of her beauty nor her admission. It was all more than he was worthy of, he didn’t want her feelings because he couldn’t return them. He closed his eyes and just focused on her warm moist mouth sliding back and forth on his cock until the pleasure was so great he thought he would explode. He grabbed and lifted Dyanne up onto her feet, against his chest, then sat her on the countertop. Holding her knees to his sides, he pushed the head of his cock deep inside her.

“Yes!” Dyanne moaned, wrapping her legs around him, clinging to him as he thrust deeper and harder into her until she orgasmed.

He carried her to the bedroom where he laid back with her on top of him. With a quick slap to her ass, Rom commanded her, “Fuck me,”

Dyanne obeyed, bouncing as she took him over and over deep inside her.

.oOo.

“You should have told me,” Rom said as they laid face to face in bed and he trailed his finger along her bruised chest.

“I guess it’s from the seat belt. It doesn’t hurt anymore, just looks worst that it is,” she smiled at him then touched his scars. “Tell me about these.”

Rom took her hand into his, interlaced their fingers as he brought her hand to his lips, “We should probably get dressed.”

Dyanne started to protest, but the telephone rang out in the silence.

“I guess the line is back up,” Rom said jumping out of bed and walking into the kitchen completely naked.

Dyanne couldn’t help but admire his body as he did so. She loved that he was comfortable being totally nude around her. She wished that he was comfortable opening up about himself and his experiences. She’d meant what she said about trusting him and wanting him more than anything.

She knew that reality would kick in. She knew that she was leaving Rom to continue her vacation alone in Elston. Afterward, she would drive back to Chicago where Rom would soon be forgotten under the piles of test shoots and model contracts. What they just shared here would just be a memory, so she wanted to enjoy what they had while it lasted.

When Rom returned to the bedroom, Dyanne was pulling on her blouse.

“That was the repair shop, they were able to pull your car out last night and they have it at the shop. They’ve said it’s ready and good as new,” he informed her.

“That’s great!” Dyanne said turning away from him as she searched for her bra and underwear. “Um, I guess I’ll give the B&B a call and explain why I didn’t show up.”

“Yeah, you should do that,” Rom said as he pulled on boxers seeing that she was getting dressed. “You should shower and freshen up. I’ll put some breakfast together before we leave. You must be hungry.”

Dyanne gave him a small smile, thinking about the intense physical workout they just completed, “Yeah, you too.”

After Dyanne showered, she dressed in the same jeans and blouse that she started this adventure in, then joined Rom in the kitchen.

Rom had a plate set for her with eggs, bacon, and toast, along with a cup of coffee set with milk and sugar as she liked it. He was surprised at how much he enjoyed cooking for two. There was something about the domesticity of it that he missed, but if pressed he wouldn’t admit it.

While Rom showered, Dyanne went to the phone with her purse in her hand. She looked up the number of the B&B in her planner, then dialed them up.

A few minutes later, Rom emerged from the bathroom freshly showered and dressed in a grey flannel shirt and snug denim jeans.

“Hey, it’s almost nine, we can be in Elston by noon if the roads aren’t too bad,” he said to her.

“I’m not going to Elston. My suite is no longer available,” Dyanne said.

“What? Did they not keep your room reserved? Or did they close because of the sudden blizzard?” Rom asked concerned.

“No, I canceled,” Dyanne said with an impish smile.

“What? Why did you…” Rom started but Dyanne walked up to him wrapping her arms around his neck.

“I’d rather be here with you,” she landed a quick kiss on his lips.

“Is that so?”

“Yes,” she teased his lips with her own.

“I thought the lack of noise and hustle and bustle of the city was driving you crazy? What happened to you being bored out of your mind?”

“Oh, I think I found something to keep me entertained,” she grinned placing kisses on his neck and earlobe. She loved snuggling her face against his thick beard and breathing in his clean manly scent.

Rom fought with all his might to not think with his dick, even as it twitched to life in his pants, “It’s not like I’m saying no, but we should probably pick up your car and things from the repair shop.”

 

To be continued

 

Published 
Written by missluv2write
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