Ivar and the wolf, part 3.

In my bed, curled up under the sheets but still shivering, I cannot fall asleep.

I have no idea why I let him do what he did and why it seemed a matter of course. As if it is a natural thing for me to surrender to him. Like I've always known him.
I don't know if I feel like a goddess or a cheap hoe.

I shudder and bite a piece of skin on my thumb.
I must have been daydreaming. It can't have been real.
But I feel a twitch in my womb when I think about his eyes, the whites of his eyes, and his hand, the tightness of his pants.

My cat jumps on the bed. Starts purring and flexing his paws on the duvet.

My breathing gets more even and I feel I'm slowly floating into oblivion.

My phone rings and when I try to get it from the nightstand it falls. The ringtone almost sounds angry now. Grunting I kick the duvet together with my cat to the foot section and reach for the device.

"Hullo." I mumble.

"Good morning sunshine." I hear the cheerful voice of my friend Mara.

"Hhhhh."

"Oh...alright. Let me guess. The wolf?"

"Shit, Mara?"

"Are you still in one piece?"

"Nothing happened!" I exclaim. Trying to convince myself. "He returned my car keys. That's all. He....uh...."

"Did he repair your car?" Mara asks, suspicious.

"Uhm...yes...uh...I guess...."

"You're not sure?"

"Well. I'll look later. It was dark when he brought back my keys."

"Ivar, is everything okay?"

I tell Mara that I've had this weird fantasy about the wolf, about how he entered my house, my mirror, my aura, my intimacy. And how I let him.

"But he has returned your keys?" Mara asks after some silence.

I get out of bed and walk to the table.

On the table are my car keys.

"But how did they get there?" Mara wonders.

"I don't know." I touch the car keys. The cold metal in shrill contrast with the warmth of his hands.

"Ivar?"

"Listen, Mara, it was a dream...it...."

I suddenly remember I have a spare set of my house keys in the clove compartment of my car. So that is how he got in. Yes, must have been.

"Mara?"

I tell her about my keys.

"Shall I send Paul over to get your lock changed?" Says Mara.

"No. It will be alright. Hey, Mara, let me remind you I'm picking you up tonight. Victor's party. Remember? The Marvel party? Get your Poison Ivy costume ready. I'll be at your house at 22.30 hours."

When I break the connection I feel determined to reject the idea that my downstairs neighbour got into my apartment so that he - we - could be intimate. I will check my car's clove compartment and if my house keys are not there I will politely ask them back. The guy is a hottie, not a creep. Of that I'm sure.

Giggling I get into my Marvel villain costume. I do so love these dress up parties.

Victor is an old friend from school. He was a shy boy, but during his college years he did some stuff in IT and well....he got rich. Turned into a party boy. We don't really share the same interests but he keeps inviting me to his parties. Well, I don't complain.

I put on my mask, breath in and adjust my body suit, paste a plaster on my heel - in case I get a blister - and slide in my knee high stiletto boots.

Ready to go. When I get my car keys a heat flash comes over me. I think of the Wolf and his able touch.

My car is here, I walk around it and no visible scratch or dent. As if nothing has happened. The spare keys of my house are still in the clove compartment.

But my car won't start.

Nothing.

Dead.

I mutter a curse and frustrated slam the door.

"Fuck!"

I look at the time. Mara is waiting for me.

What now.

With clenched fists I bang on his door.

"Open up. I know you're home!"

Nothing.

"Eddie, open the door, my fucking car won't start!"

Somehow I feel he's on the other side.

"Eddie?" I whisper.

"Yeah." He says after some silence.

I feel his reluctance when he opens the door.

Then his mouth seems to drop open.

He seems to gasp.

"Catwoman?" He stammers.

The girl with no name, chapter 6.

The girl with no name is a story I started a year ago.

http://abyssriotact.blogspot.nl/2016/01/the-girl-with-no-name.html

It is about a young woman with severe memory loss, living in a mansion together with her grandfather. One day she becomes aware that her grandfather has a tenant for the boathouse next to the lake. Despite her loss of memory and her almost zombie like existence she gets curious.

Well....actually....the girl with no name is a sequel to another story....I wonder if people can guess which.

The girl with no name. Chapter 6

She opened her eyes and looked in to the amazing ocean colour of his eyes.

The big smile that appeared on her face drew dimples that only showed at the rare moments she was really happy.

"You beautiful mother fucker...you scared me." She whispered.

His mouth found hers and silently they kissed.

For a short moment his lips left hers and he said:

"I thought you were dead..."

With her index finger she wiped away a tear in the corner of his eyes.

"I was dead, Eddie."

His two hands clasped her face.

"Oh my love...that moment when I saw you being hit...I..." He shivered while a tormented moan left his mouth.

"Edward!" A stern voice sounded.

And more friendly the old man said while he approached the bed in which the young woman and the hypothermic man were covered in a pile of blankets:

"Edward...it is perhaps better to leave the events of the past to Hálwen herself to remember. Don’t try to haste things..."

"Grandpa..." Hálwen pushed herself up from the bed.

"Don't talk about me as if I'm not there."

"I'm sorry, child." He laughed.

"This is all a bit awkward and unreal. I forgot you were always such a perky individual.

I'll take Edward's temperature, if that is all right with you - and go back to the house. I'm sure you both won't mind a nice warm soup."

When the grandfather left the boathouse, both Hálwen and Eddie looked at each other.

Abashed.

Like two children left alone in a room with a big pie, excessively decorated with cream and icing, they stared in each other's eyes until Hálwen shyly averted her eyes.

"How...how are you feeling?" She cleared her throat.

Edward furled his brow. Pulling her back under the sheets.

"Hungry." He grunted as he grabbed her butt and pushed her up against him.

The old man, William, was in the kitchen preparing to warm a sturdy broth and putting three bowls on a tray to take back to the boathouse.
"Nothing like a full vegetable soup." William mumbled.
"Oh." Suddenly he remembered he had to make an urgent phone call.

When he walked to his study he heard a sound...like breaking glass.

The silence.

"Miles?" William called.

Nothing.

When he picked up the phone to dial the number on the vintage telephone he heard another sound. William shook his head and concentrated on the call he was going to make.

"District Police, how can I help you?"
"Oh, yes.... good evening.... I would like to report an assault.... possible attempted murder."

A firm hand grabbed around the fragile old man's.... forcing him to break the connection.
"No, sir.... no calls."

Then the old man felt something crashing down his head.
He saw the two men, before he collapsed and everything went black.
"Hàlwen." He croaked...in a sad attempt to warn his granddaughter.

Ivar and the Wolf, part 2

I am really confused when I get back to my own apartment.

"That is one weird mother fucker." I mumble when I make myself some tea.

I call Mara. We talk for a while. I stroke my cat who is sitting on my lap. I eat a biscuit. Mara warns me. "You should probably stay away from him. He will fuck you in the brain."

"I wouldn't really mind to be fucked by him." I tell her.

"Ha! No, I'm sure you wouldn’t. But I will have to pick up the pieces."

"Mara..."

"Ivar. I know you. Don't get yourself hurt. That's all I'm saying."

"I know.... thank you."

Why did he first deny he was the Ed on that note he left under my wipers? Such a weird guy. I wonder what he is doing now.

I take a glass from the cupboard. Put it upside down on the floor and kneel over it. I comb my hair behind my ear and press it at the bottom of the glass. I listen.
Music.

Someone walking.

Talking.

Then the music is turned down. Again talking. A man's voice. Then a short laugh.
Footsteps and a door slamming.

Silence.

I brush my teeth and put on my pyjamas. I like these pyjamas. They are comfy. Ugly of course, with the soccer print, ugly but comfy.

Doorbell.

The wolf stares at my slippers. My fluffy bunny slippers.
He scrapes his throat. Suppresses a laugh.

"Are you about to go to sleep? Sorry for bothering you. Cute pyjamas. You look like a little boy."

"What do you want?" I ask. Lifting my chin in an aggressive manner.

"Uh..." He is silent. Just looks into my eyes. Then his insanely long lashes slowly drop over his mesmerizingly blue ones as he closes them and rubs his brow with his fingers. Like trying to concentrate...or in pain.
"... I need your car keys to get your car repaired." He croaks.

"Oh, yes, sure." I say and turn around to get the keys.

"I won't need my car tomorrow, but I...."

"You need some insurance you'll get your car back, of course." He interrupts.

"I thought of that."

He takes a step back and picks up a case he left in the hallway.

"This is my guitar. It is very valuable to me. Keep it as a deposit."

Relieved he understands my trust issues I take the case inside and put it on the kitchen table. Carefully open it to discover a worn acoustic guitar.

"It doesn't look like much, but...." I hear right behind me, not realizing he has followed me inside.
He delicately strokes a lock of my hair behind my ear. Caresses my neckline. It's like time stands still for a moment.
I step aside.

He takes the guitar out of the case and gently fingers the snares.

I hope he won't embarrass me by starting to play. Or worse; sing.
"No problem." I quickly say. "Here are my keys. Just be gentle with my car."

In bed I savour the memory of the warmth of his fingers when he took the car keys from my hand.
I remember that same warmth when we held hands at that party.

I sigh. Push back the pillow and try to sleep.

After another boring day at the office I return home, happily looking forward to a boring evening in my cosy apartment. Not true really. It wasn't a boring day at all. It was rather busy, and I had to deal with a couple of angry customers on the phone. But I managed to pacify them and I got compliments from my boss. And....ugh.... it was boring...

I look out of the window and notice that my car isn't back yet.

I'm so stupid. Trading my car for a used up old guitar. The guy doesn't look reliable at all, and how do I even know he's going to repair my car - even acknowledge wrecking it?

Shit.

I light candles, put on some music and take a quick shower.

"It's getting dark already." I muse when I close the curtains.
Still no car.

The body butter Mara gave me a couple of days ago smells delicious. I am torn between eating it or rubbing it onto my body.

Looking in the mirror as I slowly massage the crème on my belly I notice I'm getting a tummy. Maybe get back to running a couple of times a week. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe not.
Mmmm....amazing smell...

I didn't hear him. He was just there suddenly. Walking up to me out of the shade. I should scream, but I don't.
Our eyes lock through the mirror. I lean back when I feel his body warmth and let out a sigh when he puts his hands on my bare hips, his long hair falling over my naked shoulder when he kisses my throat.

That same mesmerising warmth oozing from his fingers as they stroke the inside of my arm while he gently bends it backward, behind my back.

His other hand glides over my tummy, and slowly he starts touching me. Working me till my knees start to give and I can hardly stand anymore.

I gasp, flex my hand and feel his excitement through the fabric of his pants.

He breathes out as if he held his breath all this time. With a soft whimper.
The warmth. It is all around me.
I don't know if it is him or me that makes that moaning sound.

And then I don't feel his agile fingers on me anymore. Nor his warm body behind me.

I'm on the floor - my hands pressed against my mouth, not comprehending what just happened  - when I hear the sound of my car keys falling on the table.
"Your car is fixed." I hear him say. "I'm no longer in your debt. Sleep well."

And then the door is being shut.