No Strings Attached

Chapter Three

Shannon folded herself up onto the garden swing, kicking off her funky Iron Fist court shoes, and folding her long, tanned legs underneath her. She rolled the unlit cigarette between her thumb and forefinger – she’d pinched it from Jayden’s secret stash in the garage – and come out into the moonlight for a few minutes to herself.

The air was so clear back at home, she mused silently, something about fresh air really soothed the soul in a way that you’d never get back in the city. There was no sound in the night except a little soothing reggae that was escaping through the double glazed windows into the silent twilight from where it was playing in the background inside.

She felt like she was regressing again after this crap with the photographer – people don’t just get abused and assaulted over and over again unless they’re somehow responsible – it just doesn’t work that way at all.

It had to be something she was giving off – an inert vulnerability or something, she had no clue – but if there was ever one fucking thing she needed to work out about herself it was that.

The shutters came rolling up in her mind – memories pouring through her in the silent shadows.

They were parked up in Nate’s rusty old jeep at the back of an empty field. Naked flesh exposed, and his body still nestled inside her as she straddled him in the driver’s seat, he had crushed her against his chest in the dim light, to save the steering wheel from abrading her tender flesh, and was softly running his fingers along her spine slowly.

“I don’t understand it,” she whispered against his skin, her voice full of the emotions that were rising up inside her – awe, wonder – complete and utter devotion to the man in front of her, “Why does ... I mean what ... what’s happening Nate?”

Lazily, he chuckled as he dropped a soft kiss to the crown of her dark head, murmuring against her hair, “I’m not sure, but it was damn good ...”

Involuntarily, his body twitched inside hers with the aftermath of his orgasm, and she gasped before breaking into shy giggles, rubbing her head against his chest like a kitten. “I can’t believe you spanked me,” she blushed, her skin illuminated in a tomato red glow.

“You liked it though? Right?” his words dancing on the tenterhooks from where he was hanging, his fingers stroking lightly at the blush, until he felt her shy nod against his chest.

He sighed, leaning his head back into the moth-eaten rest behind him, still stroking her skin, “I couldn’t just take you back there, have you walking back into that without touching you ... kissing you, I don’t know,” a frown descending over his dark eyes, he nudged her head up towards his to meet her eyes, “Show you who you belonged to, I guess.”

Her eyes widened in shock, breath caught in her throat as she tried to swallow it down again, “I ...?”

Pushing one midnight dark lock of hair behind her ear, he cupped her face in the palm of his hand, “I love you,” he whispered softly, eyes glued to her gaze, “I just ... I can’t get over that feeling that I need to have you in every possible way – whenever and wherever – fuck it! Everywhere! Every second of every day!” he muttered.