Fan Fiction by VTW
|Todd spent the whole night out. He rode down through San Francisco past
San Jose, and up into the Santa Cruz Mountains. The Kawasaki ate the miles
up effortlessly. He cruised into his garage at around six a.m.
He was stretching his legs along the pier, trying to work the kinks out of his body. He hoped the long walk would exhaust him to the point of oblivion. He wanted nothing more than to lie on his bed and just wink out, with no nightmares, no thoughts of Clarice, just nothing.
A sharp, high scream ripped the air, causing a flock of seagulls to violently scatter. Todd whipped around and stared in disbelief. Peter Manning was hulking over Clarice. He had a grip on her upper arm and their faces were a breath apart.
"CLARICE!" He roared. He didn't even remember running. His feet were a blur. "Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod," Pete chanted in a complete panic. If he laid a hand on her, he'd sink his teeth into his throat and rip it out. His mouth instinctively watered.
Peter Manning abruptly let Clarice go. He hesitated. No, it wasn't time yet. He had to be patient, he wasn't gonna screw it up. He had too much riding on this. "Fuck," he said roughly. He turned and swiftly climbed into a silver Porsche and peeled out of the parking lot, grinding the gears as he left.
Pete reached Clarice seconds after Manning left. He was trembling with fatigue. He bent over and rested his hands on his knees, breathing harshly and willing his heart to slow down. He stood up straight and grasped Clarice's arm. He quickly scanned her face and body for any visible signs of injury. "Did he hurt you," he asked in a low controlled voice. White-hot fury engulfed him. This was going too far. Peter Manning was a dead motherfucker. "Clarice! Did he touch you?" He shook her roughly.
"No!" She shouted. She wrenched her arm out of his grasp. "Look, I don't know what's going on. Or or who that man was, but I want NO part of it!" She turned away and started for the diner.
Pete set his jaw. "Oh, no you don't!" He hooked his finger through her belt loop and yanked her back. She landed with a soft thud against his chest. He closed his eyes. Pete resisted the urge to wrap his arms around her. He turned her around and glared at her. He was scared out of his mind. God, what if he hadn't been out here? Who knows what that monster would have done? He shuddered. Of course, he couldn't express those kinds of feelings, so he retreated to the one feeling that he could.
"You're comin' with me," he snapped.
Clarice looked at him astonished. "What?"
He closed his long fingers around her wrist. "You heard me. You're leaving with me right now." He tugged her along and started walking.
Clarice dug her heels into the pavement. "I will do no such thing!" She yelled. "I'm going to work! Let me go!"
Pete stopped abruptly. He grabbed her shoulders and put his face inches from hers. "Fuck your job," he enunciated deliberately. You're not workin' there today or any other day. Stop being so damn stubborn and let's go!"
"You're crazy, who the hell do ."
He shook his head and scooped her up in his arms. "Will you shut up and stop your damn bellyaching!" He shouted in exasperation. He took long purposeful strides and walked down the pier, to his home, with her in his arms, struggling and kicking the entire way.
He opened his front door and kicked it shut. He dropped Clarice unceremoniously on the soft leather couch.
No sooner did her butt hit the couch; she sprang up and made a madcap dash for the front door. "Jesus!" Pete exclaimed in wonder. Underneath her gentle exterior she was a hellcat! And stubborn and willful and completely beautiful. With a tackle the Llanview Lions would have been proud of, he blocked her and as gently as he could, and pushed her back on the couch, landing on top of her.
"Look," he said in a patient, even tone. "I just walked a half a mile with you in my arms and as thin as you are, it was a workout, trust me. I have been up for," he quickly glanced at his steel Rolex. "About thirty hours, now. I'm hot and sweaty, thirsty, hungry and dead tired." Don't forget horny and hard as a rock. "So please gimmie a friggin' break wouldja!"
Clarice stared into his hazel eyes and drew a shuddering breath. "You don't really expect me to stay here, do you?"
He gritted his teeth. His patience was dwindling rapidly. "Yes, I do. And yes, you are. You'll be safe here. I promise."
Clarice looked shrewdly at him. "I thought you didn't give a damn about me Thomas?" She said silkily. Her brown, almond eyes were deep and mysterious. "For someone who doesn't care, you're sure hot and bothered," she whispered, running a soft pink tongue over her lips. She flexed her hips up slightly. She'd have to be dead not to feel his hard on against her leg.
Todd chewed on his lip in annoyance. His cock was hard enough to drive a nail through a two by four. He knew it. Apparently she did too. He slowly eased up off of her until he was in a sitting position. "Hey, I was under the impression you welcomed my help. Unless screaming hysterically is the normal way you greet people," he said sourly.
She sat up abruptly. "How can you say that to me?" She cried indignantly. "I was scared Thomas, that man was frightening," her voice trembled. She hugged herself, rubbing her hands over her arms.
Todd felt like a lowlife. He cleared his throat. "Look, obviously the guy was following you. He knows where you live. Do you feel safe goin' back to your place?"
Clarice had to admit that the thought of going back to her apartment alone was scary. She shook her head. "No," she whispered.
Todd stood up and shrugged. "Then it's settled. You're staying. This is a big house and I've got plenty of rooms, all you need to do is pick one. Okay?" He raised an eyebrow and challenged her to disagree.
Clarice felt her heart leap in her chest. She couldn't deny him anything. The thought of him and her alone was dizzying. "Okay."
"Great," he muttered. "Uh look why don't you look around and make yourself at home. I'm gonna take a hot shower and get the road off of me. So " he gestured with his hand vaguely. "See ya." With that being said, he turned to walk away.
Clarice looped a strand of hair behind her ear. "Can I use your phone? I uh need to call work."
Todd looked at her. "I don't have one," he shrugged.
Clarice was bewildered. "How come?"
"I have no one to call," he said guilelessly. "I'll be y'know, takin' a shower." He cleared his throat nervously and walked away.
As Clarice watched him go, her eyes slowly filled with compassionate tears. That was quite possibly the saddest thing she had ever heard.
* * * * * * * * * *
Todd stood in the shower and let the hot, stinging spray beat down on his body. He groaned softly, he was so damn tired. And now he had Clarice underfoot. His cock twitched. He ran his shaking hands through his wet hair.
Life was so ironic. The women in his past thought he was allergic to sex and intimacy. The truth was, he thought about it all the time. He'd lost track of the times he'd wake up in the throes of an erotic dream, with some faceless woman. He missed sex, and he wanted it so badly it was an ache.
He pressed his forehead hard against the granite shower. How the hell was he gonna control this out of control desire he had? He sure as hell wasn't gonna be walking around with a raging hard-on. "Shit," he whispered.
He closed his eyes tightly. His mind conjured up visions of Clarice in his bed. His bed, with her black hair spread out like a midnight cloud over his pillow. He slowly ran his hand down over his chest. Her skin was so soft and fair, he knew her breasts would be perfect. He leaned his back against the shower. His hand drifted down past his navel. The soap bubbles glided down his wet body like satiny stripes of warm cream.
He wanted to slowly run his tongue over and under them, and on down to the slight dip in her belly. He smiled slightly. His hand closed over himself. He wanted to cup the lush delta between her thighs with his hand, and squeeze, oh so gently. He groaned deeply and pulled his lip erotically through his teeth. He wanted to taste her with his tongue. He knew she'd taste so sweet. Like the finest, most rare of wines.
His breathing increased as he felt the pressure building. He could see her so vividly, her beautiful naked body, as lovely as a dream. He could feel himself parting her legs and entering her satiny warmth. He took a shuddering breath as release came, in long spasms.
Gasping as though he ran a mile, he laughed bitterly. It didn't help, he'd just came, and he was still rock hard. He shut the shower taps and jerked a towel off the rack, drying himself briskly. He was angry, frustrated, horny and confused.
If Miss Clarice Anderson thought she was gonna drive him crazy with lust, well then she had another thing comin'.
You talk a good game Todd, but we both know that it's just a matter of time, now don't we?
|To be continued|
Peace and Love,
Email The Author
Back to Remember Roger Howarth