Page 12 of Cut to the Heart of It
“I…what..hey!” I stammered out as I swatted at his chest.
“What?” Johnny asked as he carried me up the steps.
“You can’t pick me up!”
‘Uh, I think I just did.”
“Ugh, you know what I mean. You can’t just touch me. And where do you think you’re going? Put me down!”
“I will in a second,” he said calmy as he walked to the bedroom.
My mind and my heart raced. What was he about to do?
“You can’t do this!” I shouted as I banged on his hard chest.
He stepped to the bed then put me down and walked to the door.
Oh God…he was going to shut the door and come back to take advantage of me.
But instead, he walked through the door and shut it behind him.
I waited for a moment and heard the steps. I heard a few more sounds like doors locking, the fridge, then the sounds on the TV went from murder shows to weather.
I jumped from the bed and flung the door open, stepping to the small landing that overlooked the living room.
“Hey, what is your problem?!”
He was spread over the couch, still only wearing a t-shirt and the long-johns which didn’t leave much to the imagination. He tilted his face to look up at me. “No problem now. I have my bed.” He grinned and continued, “Did you want me to stay up there?”
I growled through a clenched jaw then stomped back to the bedroom and slammed the door.
My jammies were laying over my luggage, so I changed then climbed into bed. After tossing and turning for several minutes as my anger, yes it was anger and most certainly not excitement, died down. I closed my eyes and the fresh memory of his scent and his strong body cradling mine quickly violated my thoughts.
How the hell did he even carry me up the stairs? No man had picked me up in years. Tossed me around on the bed a little yes, but I don’t know that any man in recent years had the strength to lift me. If they did, I’d never know. I didn’t mind my weight and I didn’t have any problem finding men that seemed to enjoy me, but it would take a big strong fellow to scoop me up, much less carry me upstairs. Yet, he didn’t even seem to be winded. It was better than I’d like to admit, being picked up that way. But I should be mad. Yes. Mad. Not hot. And bothered.
“Down girl,” I whispered to my lady bits.
This was going to be a long and torturous entrapment.
Chapter 8
Johnny
I was up before the sun. The couch was a tad short for me and it was hard to get comfortable with a raging erection half the night. The half bath was a tad small, and I wasn’t sure how loud I would be if I tried to relieve myself. I certainly couldn’t on the couch.
She was so peaceful sleeping last night, but I didn’t think I could sleep in the chair, and I wouldn’t leave her on the couch and take the bed. She didn’t seem to care for the fact that I carried her to the room. And I’d be lying to myself if I didn’t admit I thought about things I could do once up there. But I was a man, not an animal. Although, her fiery reaction to everything was hot.
As long as I wasn’t staring her down and touching her, she was sweet, jovial, and smiled brightly. Even though I shouldn’t try to get a rise out of her, I enjoyed when she was fired up. Like she had two totally different sides, both equally fun.
After I enjoyed a cup of coffee on the porch, I looked through the fridge and found a few things for breakfast. I was at the stove flipping sausage when she cleared her throat.
“Morning. How’d ya sleep?” I asked after looking back to the stove and turning on the other burner.
“Fine I guess.”
She poured herself some coffee and sat at the island.
“How do you take your eggs?”
