Page 16 of Wolf

Chapter 7

Wolf

The taste of chocolate lingers in my mouth while I pace the living room, my skin buzzing, my cock aching. I’d made sure to excuse myself to go to the bathroom as soon as I arrived at Ruby’s house, after following Julia there in her car. Going the speed limit for once. While in there, I’d tucked my dick up under the waistband of my underwear to help hide it since there was no way I could be around her for so long without getting hard. It worked, but it also helped that Artie insisted on sitting between me and his mom. He was a good distraction, insisting that I pay attention to the movie and talk about it with him.

It was some kid’s movie, live action with a lot of CGI. I guess I should have expected that we weren’t going to be watching Saw or some shit. Anyway, it wasn’t half bad, and the brownies Julia baked were amazing. Makes sense since she said she used to run a bakery. I ate two pieces, and she put a couple more into a container for me to bring home with me.

It was a nice time. Ruby seemed less talkative than she had been at the diner, and I had to be careful how deeply I breathed, otherwise I’d catch Julia’s scent and wake up my cock, but still. Nice.

Then, the movie ended and things changed. It was night. Time for old ladies and little kids to go to bed. Ruby retired and Julia took Artie away, which left me all alone in the unfamiliar house.

Was I supposed to leave? Would Julia want me to stay longer?

I pace. A few minutes pass. Does putting a kid to bed take longer than I thought? My hands itch, twitching restlessly at my sides. If I don’t occupy them, they’ll wander on their own. Julia might come back to find me jerking off. I can just imagine how her large blue eyes would go even wider at the sight of my big dick pulsating in my hand, the swollen angry-red tip dripping with precum. She’d come closer, drawn in, magnetized to me, yeah, and kneel in front of me.

For fuck’s sake. Those six years in the slammer have done a number on me. I don’t think I’ve been this horny since I was a teen. I’ve got to do something to take my mind off my dick. When we entered the house, Julia flicked the light switch in the foyer. No light came on. The bulb was dead. I could replace it if they had spares.

I had seen a pantry by the kitchen when I was here before, so I go and look inside. There’s mostly spices and things like foil and plastic baggies. I’m about to give up when I see a clear plastic tub on the top shelf. It seems to hold a number of cardboard boxes in the right shape and size.

Jack-fuckin’-pot.

That’s how Julia finds me when she finally comes back from putting Artie to bed, prowling around the house and flipping light switches to find dead bulbs to replace. “I see that you got bored,” she says.

I set down the bulb I just pulled down and twist another in its place. She stares, openly watching the way the muscles in my arm move. “Not bored. Just helpin’ out like I said I would.”

“Well, thank you.” She sighs and holds her arms around herself. The moment stretches on and I am sure that when it ends, she’ll ask for me to leave. This has been a great night, but without Ruby and Artie, it’s over. I stay quiet, wanting to draw it out for as long as I can. I’m not looking forward to going home. I don’t want to lay down in the bed that doesn’t feel like mine yet, alone and cold. I don’t want to jack myself off, my hand my only acquaintance. I don’t want the dreams that are so often nightmares, warped memories of all the worst things I saw in prison. Guys beating the shit out of each other over cigarettes. Botched suicides. Addicts tearing their skin to shreds to dig out the bugs crawling in their veins. Blood and guts and violence and madness.

A soft, warm, strong hand grazes over my arm, slides down to my wrist. With the long, slow touch, I feel the veil of dread being brushed away from my eyes. I look at Julia and she’s somehow more beautiful than ever at the end of this long day.

“Where did you go?” she whispers.

The question brings a lump to my throat. “What do you mean?” I stall for time. How does she know I went anywhere?

“Just now,” she says. “You went away somewhere. Wherever it was, it scared you.”

So, she’s not saying that she knows I left town. I curl my lip. “I don’t get scared.”

“How could I forget? You’re a big strong man.” She smiles slightly. Her fingers strum over my wrist. Her thumb is on my pulse. She has to be able to feel it racing. “You can stay a little longer, if you want.”

Stay.

“Yeah, alright,” I say, and turn toward the living room. “I’ll stay. Not much longer, though.”

Just long enough.

Her hand drops away from mine. I follow her anyway, like she’s got me on a leash, trailing her to the same couch where we sat and watched Artie’s movie. Now there’s no kid between us, no old and questionably wise observer in the armchair.

I manspread and it feels damn good to relax like that after being clenched so tight for hours. My leg shoves up against Julia’s. She doesn’t move away. She leans back and pushes a hand through her hair. A silky golden waterfall tumbles against the back of the couch. I want to bury my face in her hair and breathe her in until she’s part of me forever.

After a long few seconds, she starts to talk, telling me how she expects the divorce to be finalized soon.

“It don’t seem fair that you won’t get anythin’. That was your house, your place. Your life.”

“What I want is my freedom.” Julia pauses. Her eyes half-shut, dark gold lashes framing her soft cheeks. “Freedom for Artie. And not to be afraid.”

I feel anger at that. That Artie was afraid of his own damn father. What kind of life is that for a little boy? What kind of life is that for anyone? I wonder if there’s anything else Julia isn’t telling me about her soon-to-be-ex-husband. I sit up and grab her shoulder, and she turns toward me with a hazy look that has little to do with the conversation and everything to do with me touching her, claiming her with my fingers digging into her.

“Why were you afraid of him? And who is him? I don’t even know the bastard’s name.”