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    Katya Dee
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.

The First Lock - 9. Chapter 9

- IX -

 

“Here...” Mandy said and handed Katrena a key.

Katrena blinked at that.

“A key?” she said in a puzzled voice.

“Yup,” Mandy nodded melancholically. “If you think, even for a second, that I am going to wait for you or to leave the front door unlocked...” she took a quick breath. “...then you are out of your mind,” she finished.

Katrena blinked at that.

“Mandy,” she said slowly. “I’ll be back way before midnight... And I know for sure that you stay up at least until one in the morning every night, playing that damn solitaire...”

“You never know,” Mandy shrugged. “It’s six-fifty, he said he’d come at seven, your outfit is completely different...” she shrugged again. “And you’ve been glancing outside for at least twenty minutes now... You never know,” she finished. “Just take the damn key,” she said after Katrena snorted loudly.

“Fine,” Katrena muttered and grabbed the said key.

“I think your guy is here,” Dawnie said, her nose glued to the window.

“No, you stupid!” Danny snorted. “He is a police sergeant! And that’s just a car, not a cruiser!”

You are stupid!” Dawnie retorted immediately. “It’s his car! He’s not gonna use the cruiser! Duh!”

“Cops always use cruisers,” Danny rolled his eyes.

“Not on a date, you dipshit!”

“Dawn Jessica Ray, what did you just say?!”

“Ugh... I am going to go now...” Katrena concentrated on her stomach for a second and nodded with slight satisfaction. Nausea seemed to be asleep right now, which was great.

Mandy simply nodded at that without taking her narrowed eyes off Dawnie, who looked like the definition of ‘guilt.’ When Katrena was closing the front door, the last thing she heard was:

“...so grounded!”

“But Mom...!”

Katrena shut the door, cutting off all the voices, and shoved a lollipop into her mouth.

“You know,” Paul said thoughtfully when she walked closer. “Somewhere, there is a dentist who is going to make a hell of a profit from you one day...”

“Dentists I can handle,” Katrena nodded seriously.

“I am sure,” he grinned and opened the door of the car. “Is there anything you can’t handle?”

“Yes,” she nodded as seriously as before. “Going through another pregnancy,” she finished, and Paul laughed at that.

 

****

 

“...So, hold on,” Paul said with a thoughtful frown half an hour later. “You don’t remember anything?”

“I remember my name,” she shrugged.

“And that’s it?”

“That’s it,” she nodded calmly.

“You also remember how to kill someone by using only two fingers,” he said pointedly.

“Well...” she smiled somewhat uncomfortably. “Yeah, I guess that too... But it’s different. It’s something my body remembers.”

“Right,” he muttered. “Okay, do you wanna get something to eat?”

“I have been dreaming about steak for the last three months...” she said wistfully.

“Oh,” now he sounded uplifted. “There is that neat steak house just down...”

“Paul,” she sighed. “I am going to keep on dreaming about steak for the next six months... Unless you want me to puke all over your car, you might wanna avoid steak houses when I am around, believe me...”

“Bummer,” he said.

“I’d say,” she agreed bitterly. “The only things that don’t make me nauseous are lollipops and vegetables...”

“That explains the carrot earlier,” he smiled.

“Uh huh... I hate carrots,” she said darkly.

“Can you have coffee?”

She thought about that for a second.

“I hope so,” she nodded finally.

“Let’s take our chances then?”

“Definitely.”

 

...Fifteen minutes later, they were sitting in a back of a coffee shop. Katrena doubtfully eyed a scone on the plate in front of her.

“I am not sure about that,” she said.

“Mmm,” Paul said and swallowed his coffee. “It should be fine... It’s dry, you see... And there is nothing in it; it’s plain. The last time I had a hell of a hangover, these things were the only ones that wouldn’t make me nauseous. I figured, nausea is nausea, right? Plus, they taste pretty good.”

Katrena carefully broke off a piece of a scone and put it in her mouth.

“They do taste good,” she nodded after a minute. “Okay, if this will make me sick...”

“The bathroom is right here,” he nodded and pointed at the door. “I made sure we are close enough.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at that. To her enormous relief, the scone didn’t wake up the nausea and neither did coffee.

“Scones and coffee is definitely a lot better diet than lollipops and carrots,” she said with great deal of satisfaction forty minutes and three scones later.

“I bet,” Paul agreed with her seriously. “So, you are three months pregnant, right?”

“Uh huh,” she said carefully, wondering if he was going to ask her whether she remembered anything about the father of the monkey.

“Why are you so skinny?” he asked instead, and she smiled at his sincerity.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “I am sure I’ll start ballooning pretty soon though,” she added with a grimace.

“You’d make a cute balloon,” Paul said seriously. “Maybe I should get you one of those smiley face moo-moos... Bright-yellow one...”

“Shut up,” Katrena grimaced again, and he laughed.

“Wanna go hang out by the lake?” he asked.

Lake, Katrena thought. Romantic evening by the lake; stars a-shining, water a-splashing... Romantic evening by the lake with a twenty-nine-year-old cop and God-knows-how-old pregnant amnesia-faking outlaw from a place nobody in this world had any idea even existed... She should just go home; she’ll make it there just in time for the evening news.

“Sure,” she said instead. “Why not?”

 

****

 

“What’s with all the gum?” she asked quite a while later when Paul shoved probably a seventh within the past hour piece of gum into his mouth.

“Cigarette cravings,” he said simply.

“Quitting?”

“No,” he grinned and looked at her. “Don’t wanna smoke around you; you’ll probably kill me the second I light up...”

She hemmed at that.

“So how do you know all those moves?” he asked after a few minutes of silence.

“I guess I learned,” she shrugged.

“I ran a check-up on your name,” he said suddenly, and she slowly turned her head to look at him.

“To my enormous surprise,” he continued calmly. “I actually found someone named Katrena... With an ‘e’...” he added. “The thing is...” he threw a small rock into the water. “Her last name wasn’t Jett; it was Goldberg. Also, she is eighty-five, and she lives in Colorado. There are quite a few people with the last name Jett, but neither one of them is named Katrena,” he finished and threw another rock into the lake.

She stared at him silently, and finally, she shifted her gaze towards the dark waters of the lake.

“I also ran your fingerprints through the database,” he said in a few minutes. “I got them off Kenny’s knife,” he nodded when she stared at him once again. “I found nothing. No match...” he didn’t look away from her stare. “Who are you?”

“I already told you...” she said very calmly.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “You don’t remember anything... I just find it somewhat hard to believe,” he grinned. “Blame my inquisitive nature.”

She remained silent for a minute or two.

“That’s the story I am sticking with,” she said finally with a small smile. “At least, for a while.”

He nodded very slowly without looking away.

“All right,” he said softly. “All right... So what are you going to do after the kid is born?”

A sudden change of subject made her blink but it also made her shoulders relax.

“I am not sure,” she admitted. “I’ll have to find a job...”

“You know,” he said thoughtfully. “If you have any more cool moves that could seriously maim someone...” he glanced at her. “And I think you do,” he nodded. “You could open a studio or something...”

“A studio,” she repeated.

“Yeah,” he nodded again. “A self-defense kind of thing... I would help you,” he smiled. “Hell, I would probably take a couple of lessons myself...”

“That would make you feel invincible,” she said very seriously.

“No,” he said solemnly. “I am immune.”

She laughed at that softly, and when she thought about it later, she couldn’t remember how she ended up in his arms and how his mouth was on hers. Without even thinking, she immediately kissed him back, her fingers sinking in his hair almost against her will. It felt as if her traitorous digits had a mind of their own. His mouth tasted like mint gum he’s been chewing the entire evening; his tongue was cautious at first, but after a minute or so, it became more and more bold, exploring her mouth, caressing and assaulting at the same time.

One of his hands was securely tangled up in her hair while the other one was stroking her neck, brushing over the skin with fingertips. She shivered when he ran his finger along her collarbone, resting briefly in the hollow of her throat. Her own mouth grew hungrier and hungrier by the second. “Jett...” someone tried whispering in her head, and she immediately shut that voice up. When Jett kissed her, it felt entirely different. Not bad different, just... Well, different – she didn’t even know if she’d be able to describe the difference.

To her own surprise, Katrena was able to push all thought of Jett out of her head. Paul gasped when she suddenly pulled hard on his hair, and he moaned when she slid out of his mouth, trailing down his chin with her tongue. She attacked his neck with vicious hunger she didn’t expect herself.

“Jesus...” he breathed when she latched onto his skin hard enough to leave a mark.

He grabbed her hair and pulled her head up. She was about to say something when he shut her up with his mouth. This time, his tongue was more aggressive than in the beginning. Circling, and attacking, and probing, far from gentle. Suddenly, after ten minutes or so, he slowed down, to her greatest surprise, and then her head was spinning when he was caressing her mouth, his hands all over her, his heartbeat flowing down her throat. Then after a few minutes of this mind-numbing slow pace, she felt a wave of heat wash over her in a crazy splash. Her first (very hazy) thought was:

“Oh, son of a bitch, I am going to throw up!”

That would be disastrous, to say the least. Before she hastily pulled away, however, she realized that she wasn’t nauseous. The heat didn’t back down at all; it built up instead. “What...” was the only thing she could master in her swimming head, when suddenly, a shuddering bolt of bliss shot through her entire body, making her half-moan, half-howl into Paul’s mouth, and making her teeth lock on his lower lip hard enough to draw blood.

He let out a muffled scream of painful surprise, and she managed to unlock her teeth, her eyes squeezed shut, fingers fastened tight in Paul’s hair.

“Jesus...” he muttered. “Ow... Ease up on the hair, will you...?”

She managed to relax her fingers, even though she didn’t think it would be possible at first, not for a little while, anyway. She let go of his hair and slammed one of her hands into the ground, her eyes still squeezed shut. She could hear Paul’s disbelieving, soft laughter and it sounded like it was coming from afar. Finally, she managed to peel her eyes open and look at him. Yup, he was laughing.

“Jesus...” he said again, softer this time.

“I...” she breathed. “Oh, God... Sorry about your lip...” she glanced at him and winced. “...and your neck,” she added.

“Don’t worry about those,” he laughed again. “I don’t mind markings, believe it or not... Jesus Christ, you came?!”

For some strange reason, she felt her face blush almost violently. She found it funny; she was never the type to get embarrassed so easily. Well, yeah, but she was also not the type who could lose it like this and come because of a kiss. Some seriously intense kiss, sure, but still...

“I am better than I thought...” he muttered in a shaky voice. “It had never happened to me before, by the way... I mean, I knew that it was possible, but I never made anyone come by merely kissing them...”

“It’s not you...” she said quickly, and he laughed harder. “It’s the damn hormones... It’s... Shut up, will you?”

“Hormones, right...”

She tried shooting him a dark look. It was difficult for several reasons. Reason one was obvious – it’s practically impossible to shoot someone a dark look in almost complete darkness. Reason two was the fact that she was still sort of riding out that unexpected blissful explosion; it was still running through her veins, making her body sing. Finally, she gave up on the look and sighed instead.

“I am not going to hear the end of it, am I?” she asked gloomily.

“Oh, hell, no!” he laughed harder – she didn’t think it was possible.

“Look...” she said patiently. “The hormones...”

“Willing to make another bet?” he interrupted her, his voice somewhat calmer now.

“A bet,” she repeated, not quite sure where this was heading.

“Yeah,” he said. “A bet. After the kid is born, and after you have absolutely no ‘hormonal’ excuse, we are going to conduct an experiment... We’ll do the same exact thing, and if it happens again, I win.”

She looked at him without saying anything. After the kid is born...?

“Paul...” she finally said in a slow voice. “Look...”

“Just give it a chance,” he interrupted her, as if knowing what she was about to say. “Plus,” he shrugged. “You are very intriguing to me now... Enigma... Wrapped in a riddle... Surrounded by mystery... That and my ego is swelling to an enormous size right now...”

“Ego,” she hemmed.

“That and other things,” he laughed again. “Look, I know this went kinda too fast, but I swear, I only planned a kiss... I’ll take this as slow as you...”

“I am not doing anything until the...” she coughed when she almost said, ‘the monkey.’ “...the kid is born,” she finished. “I don’t do threesomes.”

Paul blinked at that with confusion for several seconds, and then he howled with laughter.

“What did you do with your gum?” she remembered suddenly.

“I swallowed it,” he said in a somewhat normal voice.

“Swallowed?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “I figured spitting it out wouldn’t be the biggest turn-on, so I swallowed it. Just gum, no big,” he shrugged again.

“What time is it?” she asked, and he pulled his phone out of the pocket.

“Twelve-thirty,” he said after glancing at the dimly lit screen.

“I better go home,” Katrena got up and swayed slightly on her feet.

“Careful,” he got up smoothly and grabbed her arm. “Come on...”

 

...“Mmm... Seriously, I gotta go,” she muttered, pulling away for real an hour later, when they were sitting in his car.

“Right,” he breathed and ran his fingers through his hair, which was seriously messed up right now. “Hey, I have a late shift tomorrow, can’t trade with anyone at this point...”

“That’s fine,” she shrugged, having no idea why she felt disappointed.

“Wanna have breakfast? Or lunch? Or both?” he ran his finger on the back of her neck and she almost stuttered involuntarily. The back of the neck was always a weak spot for her.

“What time do you have to be at work?” she asked, unaware of the fact that she was leaning into his touch.

“Five,” his hand caressed her neck with more gusto after he noticed her reaction.

“Okay...” she muttered. “Breakfast, okay...”

“And lunch,” he nodded, and before she knew it, his mouth ran down the back of her neck.

“Goddammit...” she growled softly. “Stop this...! What’s your last name, by the way?”

“McGregor,” he said into her neck. “I didn’t even realize I never told you...”

She hissed an unintelligible profanity when he nipped behind her ear.

“Stop this,” she managed to say it more firmly this time. “I gotta go... What time tomorrow?”

“What time do you usually wake up?” he finally pulled his face away.

“Eleven,” she shrugged.

“How about noon?”

“Then it’ll be brunch...”

“Works for me,” he nodded and kissed her mouth before she could say anything else.

 

...When she turned the key in the door lock and tiptoed inside the house, it was 2:30 in the morning.

©Katya Dee; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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Fascinating, their draw to each other.

BTW, is it pronounced Cah-TREE-nah or Cah-TRAY-nah?

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1 hour ago, Geemeedee said:

Fascinating, their draw to each other.

BTW, is it pronounced Cah-TREE-nah or Cah-TRAY-nah?

The *TRAY* version.

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