Day and Night Ch. 02

Hey folks,

This is an old story, previously titled "Flirting the Fence" that I've decided to re-write, because why not.

I've kept the heart of the story and really only lightly edited it.

Rosi

***

I don't want to be alone. It was that thought which had prompted Beth to accept Day's offhand offer. Though it was obvious that was the last thing the man expected.

Beth watched Day's mouth move like a fish out of water for a full minute while her mind reeled at what she'd just done. Not offered. No, demanded.

The alcohol had been flushed out by fear and adrenaline long ago, leaving her exhausted and painfully aware that she was alone. The life that she'd built for herself—the things she'd sacrificed for a hopeful future—were gone now, leaving sand where the castles had been.

It was stupid. So stupid. Her mother had always told Beth not to but all her eggs in one basket, and despite her best judgement that's exactly what she'd done.

And look where that got her.

Never in Beth's life had she done anything like this. Crying was a solitary practice she indulged in on rare occasions with her pillow, not with strange men. Strange men who she said she'd sleep with.

And that's all it would be. Sex was the furtherst thing from her mind, but compainonship and the warmth of another person weren't. Day's arms were massive, warm, and they offered the comfort she so desperately needed.

"Ah..." Day sighed, mouth finally closing. "Look, you're... attractive but I—"

"Not for sex," Beth rushed to say. "I just can't be alone."

Sleep tugged at Day, placing bags under his eyes and making him yawn constantly. Beth was right there with him, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes as a large yawn took her over.

"Just sleep," he said after a long minute, eyes closed and head bobbing.

"Yeah."

Day nodded slowly before gripping her waist and setting Beth away from him. Scrubbing a hand over his face, he muttered, "Follow me," rose from the couch and stumbled toward the back of the apartment. Beth followed him, wincing as she moved. A wrong step made her stumble with a sharp intake of breath but Day turned to catch he before she banged into the wall.

"Why wear those shoes if they put you in this much pain?" he grumbled, hauling her up in his arms and quickly striding over to the door at the end of the hallway.

"They're not walking heels. They were just for the party. Not for... anything else," Beth finished slowly, blinking as she was deposited onto the toilet of a bathroom.

"Medicine cabinet has a new toothbrush. Feel free to use anything else you need. I'll get you a change of clothes unless you wanna sleep in that?"

Sequins were not made for sleeping. "Clothes would be great."

He nodded and left, closing the door softly behind him.

Beth did a quick look around the sparse bathroom, noticing the dark purple paisley shower curtain and matching rug. Day didn't strike her as a paisley guy, or even one to carry a color scheme through towels and a soapdish. But before the why thoughts could take her, another yawn intercepted the train of thought. It was a miracle she got through brushing her teeth and washing her face without dropping dead asleep.

A knock made her pull the towel from her face as a hand piled high with clothes slid through the crack in the door. "T-shirt and shorts."

Beth took them gratefully, mumbling a "Thank you" before the hand disappeared and she head the creak of bed springs. She slipped into the clean and stared at her reflection, not recognizing herself. Her bedtime ritual with Jason had been arduous, heavy on creams to keep her looking young and nightgowns to keep him interested in her body. Anyone who says teddies are fun to sleep in lies.

Pushing away from the counter and the woman she didn't know anymore, Beth opened the bathroom door, turning off the lights as she stepped into the room. Day had been so quick about carrying her to the bathroom that she hadn't gotten a good look at the bedroom. Streetlights peeking through the dark curtains gave large pieces of furniture fuzzy outlines but didn't do anything for colors or smaller items. For all intents and purposes it looked like any bedroom, complete with dresser, bed, and side-table.

Carefully, Beth made her way over to the bed, making sure she didn't trip over anything on the floor. But there was nothing but hardwood and a very soft rug the closer she got to the bed.

Her hands felt across the comforter, moving toward the pillows at the headboard. Pulling the sheets back, she crawled in, mindful not to touch the man laying on his side. Away from her. It wasn't exactly the comfort she wanted, but it was enough.

"Night," Day said gruffly from his side of the bed.

Beth closed her eyes, willing the world away. For a few hours. Just a few hours. "Good night."

***

Day was having a dream about Shontell. He knew it was a dream. His wife was dead, and all he had left of her were memories and torturous dreams. Dreams with her laughing beside him. Carrying Brian against her chest and sending Day a sassy smirk over her shoulder. Of her back arched, neck straining, nails digging into his forearms as he fucked her slow and deep.

As Day looked down at Shontell, peeking up him, he knew what kind of dream it was going to be. But he couldn't let it go. Didn't want to wake up and face cool sheets and the realities of a single parent. With a raging erection. So he settled down, trailing his eyes over her kinky hair, smooth ebony skin, and dark eyes. Always the darkest eyes that saw everything and knew far too much.

Shontell smiled, mouth moving. He couldn't hear what she said, but she didn't seem to mind as she reached up to kiss him...

Day woke up with a start, tears leaking from his eyes. Breathe, damnit, he reminded himself, trying to conjure the woman he loved since childhood saying those exact words to him. Breathe, baby. It gets better.

He squeezed his eyes shut because Day knew it fucking didn't. But there wasn't anything to do. He wasn't master of time and fate—only himself. He could control himself. So he did. Cutting off Shontell's voice, Day took a deep breath and composed himself.

"Hmm..."

What the fuck?!

Day popped open his eyes, and stared down at the redhead pressed against his side, her head pillowed on his chest, small hand curled up on his shoulder. The previous night came back in impressions as he remembered who the woman was and why she was sleeping in his bed. Though that reason didn't matter to his dick. Nope, it felt a warm, soft body and hardered like Pavlov's damn dog.

The groan turned into a sharp clenching of teeth as he realized that his dick was tenting the sheets directly. Where are my pants? His heel caught the soft edge of jersey fabric and he knew he'd kicked them off, just like he did every night. Shontell had thought it was hilarious: every night he went to bed in a t-shirt and sleep pants and every morning he woke up naked as a jaybird.

The women shifted again, bringing her leg dangerously close to his erection. Day set his mouth in a grim line. No way he wanted to wake her. No matter that she was in his home—his bed—body wrapped tight around him. This wouldn't play out in his favor.

Very slowly, very quietly, Day began to move away from her, disentangling their limbs.

"Day?" the woman said in a sleepy voice, just as he had moved her leg off him.

He paused in his tracks, trying to think of what to do.

"Please... don't leave."

Well, damn. "I'm naked. Kicked off my clothes during the night. It—fuck!—it was an accident."

There were two ways this played out: she screamed rape or she ran. Either wasn't exactly positive, but he wouldn't be mad at the later. Not unless the cops showed up.

"My fiancé cheated on me with my best friend," Beth interrupted his mental guessing game, taking Day by surprise.

Day moved his fingers under her chin and tilted her head up so he could look at her, read the expression on her face. Vulnerability and loss stared back at him, reminding him acutely of his own. The only thing he had to fear from this woman was a snot soaked sheet. Settling back down, he wrapped an arm around her, careful not to pull her close or push her away. It was a hug, a show of solidarity that he thought she needed.

Tentatively, Beth lowered her head back down, half burying it in his chest.

"Um... My name's Beth," she muttered against his chest.

"Yeah, I know. Read your license."

"Wasn't sure if you forgot."

"No. But you look like a Mary." Day wanted to smack himself for being so rude. Here she was trying to rely on him, and he was being an ass. "Sorry. I'm not a morn—"

"You weren't far off. Mary's my middle name," Beth said with a small, genuine laugh.

Day just grunted, waiting for her to continue.

"I went to a friend's birthday party yesterday. I was supposed to get home late, but I didn't." She stopped, fingers curling into a fist on his shoulder. Day didn't think about his reaction as he reached up and uncurled her fingers, rubbing at the nail indentations on her palm. She took a shaky breath in before continuing, "I found them on the kitchen table. She came with me to pick out that table."

"Dude's a fucking prick, and the chick's a whore," Day spat out before he could think better of it. He was usually candid. Working in construction had turned his speech blunt, with an edge of no-nonese. But he wasn't in a hard hat, talking to his crews. A lady—every inch that definition—was curled against him, baring her misery. But refining his ways was hard first thing in the morning with an erection that could pound nails.

"Yup," she agreed with a deep laugh that shook her breasts and shoulders. "No arguments here."

Day tilted his head to look down at Beth just as she shifted to look up. That vulnerability was still there, but the loss wasn't as stark. What had she lost anyway? Nothing important. And that realization dawned in her smile.

"Well, um... Why don't you get a shower and I can give you some of my wife's clothes. Should be about your size. Then you can call a friend to come pick you up or something. That good with you?" Day asked, totally oblivious to the fact that his hand was moving through her hair, fingers twisting in the soft curls.

Until suddenly they weren't.

"Wife?" The accusation scalded as she pushed from him and dragged her hair away from his wandering fingers.

It was the perfect time for his erection to shrink, but it didn't. No, the opposite. Her tone was pure heat that went straight to his cock, making it twitch.

Not the time, he chastised his dick.

Dragging the hand he'd used to stroke her hair over his face, he groaned. "Dead."

"What?"

He pulled his hand away and leveraged himself up in the bed. "My wife died. I keep forgetting to use past time. But I still have her clothes. They're clean."

Day couldn't say why he added the last, but it felt important. His wife was dead but her clothes were clean.

It needed to stop. All of it. Keeping her clothes, dreaming about her, living in a house that was practically a shrine to everything they'd had. Shontell would knee me in the balls. His woman had never lived in the past, but she had built a future on it. What was left of one. Sixteen months ago she'd been diagnosed with late term ovarian cancer, and for months she'd wanted to do all the things she loved, telling Day that she left him to make new memories with someone else. They'd had pizza Thursdays at Domingo's on 39th, but he'd have Paris in the summertime with someone else.

"Oh! I'm... I'm so sorry. I thought that... never mind—I'm sorry," Beth tripped out.

Day caught her eyes, and couldn't help but compare them to Shontell's. They were nothing alike. Beth was bright green: the color of limes just waiting to be picked.

Nodding sharply, he clenched his hands in the sheets. Day didn't need to be looking at her eyes or hearing her apologies. No matter how good her eyes would look smiling at him in Paris.

Fury twisted his face. He felt it, couldn't change it. Could only move away from it. Like usual, like always. "I'll just—"

Warm softness pressed against his lips. A little dry, very tentative. Not like anything Day was used to. Beth's kiss was gentle, sweet, and unsure, like the woman herself.

Confused, Day didn't move. Just sat, weight resting on the hands pressed into the bed. But the kiss drew out, luring Day to close his eyes and feel. So warm. So soft. His hand went to her cheek, drawing her closer, slipping to the nap of her neck and getting lost in the tangled curls there.

Beth gasped, allowing his tongue into her mouth. Her lips had been tentative, but her tongue was a beast. Devouring him. And he let her—met her. There was a fire in Beth that ignited his own, one he'd thought snuffed when Shontell had passed. But those were embers and she'd rekindled the shit out of them.

Adjusting his weight, Day leaned forward, gathering her closer. There wasn't an ounce of hesitation in her touch on his: shoulder, fingers digging into the muscle, neck tilting for a better angle. He pulled back, sucked in a breath, and then dived in again. Harder. With teeth.

She liked it. Oh, he knew she liked it. It was in the way her hips squirmed, ass moving off the bed and onto his lap. In the way she moaned into the kiss, rubbing up against him like enough pressure was gonna make her cum. I'd love to see that.

With a flip, she was on her back, thighs spread wide around his hips, knees hiked up. Day drew away from her kiss, needing the oxygen. But then he saw her neck. And what a pretty neck it was. All arched and straining, pulse throbbing a beat below his lips.

"Don't tease," Beth panted as he nipped a line down her neck.

Blunt nails raked down his arm, leaving pleasurable pain in their wake. She undulated under him and he couldn't help but watch and wonder what dumbass cheated on this woman.

His fingers teased at the bottom of her shirt. Just a tug and it'd be off. One. Little. Tug. "Tell me to stop."

"Don't you dare!"

That command of hers made him laugh, made him groan and push her top over her breasts. Heavy, perky breasts topped with dusty pink nippes that were almost as hard as his cock. Almost.

Beth tried and failed to bite back her cry as his teeth nipped the underside of her breast. Good. He didn't want quiet. He'd had enough of that in his life. Day needed fire and those breathy demands and her nails drilling into his skin.

Needy fingers tugged at the sheet still wrapped around his waist. One shift, a quick tug, and he was over her with the only barrier a pair of flimsy, threadbare shorts. He ignored the clothes, moving his lips up her breast, over her nipple.

Just a taste. Day knew he'd stop. He had to. But after a taste. No burning, just some minor singeing. "How do you like it?"

"A little rough."

"How much is a little?"

"Start and you'll find out."

Oh, this woman.

Day gave a throaty chuckle before giving her what she wanted. He bit her nipple, gently, testing the waters, before licking away the pain. Beth's gasps urged him on as her fingers gripped his hand and brought it to her other breast.

"There!"

He flicked her nipple, rolling the turgid tip between his fingers. "Here?"

Beth's eyes were even brighter than before, expression fierce. "Keep playing. See what happens."

Shaking his head, Day abandoned her breasts and sat back on his haunches. A gasp let him know her eyes were no longer on his face but far down south. Not a problem, his were doing the same. A quick tug later, her shorts and panties were gone, leaving him with a view of a trim thatch of red curls. Nice.

Day ran his hand over the soft hair, dipping his fingers into her soaked cleft. Her body arched, greedy little pussy trying to drag him in. "More. Give me more."

He planned to. Day slipped his hands under her thighs, roughly pulling her lower body towards him. Beth's eyes widened as he drew her calves over his shoulders, settled his hands on her butt, and proceeded to lick a long, messy line from her asshole to her clit.

Nails dug into his thigh as her heels rubbed against his spine. She clenched, tight and wet and hot, around his tongue as he devoured her. Latching onto her clit, his head bobbed in time with her humping, fucking back into her as she ground her pussy on his face.

"Want you. Inside," she panting, eyes glazed as she looked over her body at him.

Only a stupid man would argue.

Sliding her thighs off his shoulder and dropping her legs to the bed, he reached over to the bedside table drawer, shuffling inside for the condoms and lube. She was soaked, but he was big.

He sent up a silent prayer as the rubber rolled down without breaking. A shiver raced down his spine at the coolness of the lube, but a few twists of his wrist and sharp tugs warmed it right up. "You rea—"

He caught her gaze unabashedly glued to his dick, chest rising and falling. The woman probably didn't even know where her hand was—lazily moving between her legs as she looked at his dick with blatant hunger.

Day reached forward with his free hand, gripping her chin and forcing her gaze to his. "Tell me you want this."

"Was I unclear?" she snapped, knocking away his hand and stroking him herself. He'd been lazy; she was hard, desperate. "Is this unclear to you?"

"No."

"Okay. Good."

He would have laughed, if he hadn't already been groaning. God, she was good at that. Not just playing with his dick, but his balls too, rolling them gently between her fingers.

Too good. No way was he coming without her, without being buried as deep as he could get in that tight body of hers.

Hand on her hip, hers still on his cock, Day pressed into Beth's body. That hand of hers released, moving to skip over her clit. She writhed underneath him, spread open, body straining toward release.

There was nothing better than a woman who knew her body, knew her pleasure. Day watched her move, tucking that information away though he knew he shouldn't. This was two fucked up people coming together after an emotional night. This was the equivalent of ripping apart a living room or screaming your head off in Central Park. A complete release to get back to center.

"It doesn't make sense," she mewled, tossing her head and glancing at him from beneath her lashes.

"What?" he forced out between clenched teeth as he fought his way inside her clinging depths.

"Why you have such a huge cock."

His head dropped as he barked out a laugh. "Sorry. Is this uncomfortable for you?"

"If you make me come I'm sure it won't be."

Challenge accepted.

Keeping still, he hiked one of her calves over his shoulder; biting her ankle as he shoved a pillow under her hips. Beth's fingers were still toying with her clit, but it was that cusp of orgasm, highly sensitive play. That's not what she needed. She needed slow and shallow, frequent stops to grind, a thumb and knuckles working her clit just a little roughly.

"Oh fuck. Yes! Just... there... Like. That. Right. Fuck—cumming!"

Singeing. That's what he wanted. To touch fire. But then he'd gone and played with it, fucked it and made it come. No way he wasn't getting burned.

Day bit his lip bloody as he changed his thrusts, sinking deeper into her still-spasming depths. She roared, forcing him to cover her mouth as she milked his cock perfectly.

Just. Perfect.