CHAPTER 5

TOMMY

I scrubbed a hand over my face to stop myself from ogling her cute little arse as she sashayed into the bathroom for her shower.

“Fuck me,” I mumbled, pressing my head back into the pillows. Her scent filled the room. I don’t know what it was about this chick, but I couldn’t seem to keep my hands off of her. I was too jaded for her cute little arse, never mind that I was too old. Although she didn’t seem put off by me at all. And what the fuck was with the dry humping? I hadn’t come like that since I was a horny teenager. Laughing under my breath at my idiocy, I swung my legs out of her comfortable as fuck bed and walked to the guest bathroom. Other than the floor layout, nothing of this house in anyway resembled the hell hole I’d grown up in.

I’d wandered around a little, looking around in the early hours of this morning when my bladder had woken me up to take a piss. It had not been fun getting up off the floor with my ribs. After I’d taken some of the pain pills she’d left out, I couldn’t face getting back down on the floor and crawling onto the mattress. I’d looked for another bed, but not finding one, I’d gone into Sprite’s room; I’d stood for a while debating about whether or not I should climb into bed with her and if she’d freak out if I did.

Finally, the pain and tiredness had won out, and I’d laid down next to her, my body instantly relaxing into the softness of her mattress. I could have cried in relief. It hadn’t been long after that that I’d fallen asleep, only to wake up to a rock-hard cock and Sprite squirming in the bed next to me.

Washing up quickly, I left the bathroom and found my saddlebags exactly where she said they would be. Finding some comfortable clothing, and because the house was cold, I hurriedly dressed in a pair of tracksuit bottoms and a long-sleeve T-shirt. A couple of minutes later, I heard the boiler kick in, and the house started to slowly warm up. I assumed this meant that she had her heating on a timer. Going into the lounge, I put another log on the fire so that the house would stay warm when her heating went back off.

Picking the blankets up from the floor, I folded them and added them to a camp chair she had set up in a corner. It was only then that I realised she didn’t have any furniture. There was, however, a huge arsed, fully decorated Christmas tree and Christmas decorations all over the house. My Sprite seemed to really love Christmas.

Tidying up as much as I could with my fucked-up ribs, I picked up my cum stained shirt from last night, along with any other dirty clothes and set them by the washing machine. I’m sure she’d not mind me using it, but I’d ask her first. Finding all the makings for coffee, I started a pot before looking in the fridge for something to make for breakfast. Seeing that she had bacon, sausage, and eggs, I took them out and started cooking. My stomach started growling in hunger at the scent of bacon. The soup from last night, while delicious, had long since worn off.

Turning the bacon, I noticed that the coffee was ready. Opening cupboards until I found mugs, ignoring the Christmas-themed ones, I found a large black one at the back of the cupboard and filled it to the brim with the delicious black gold, closing my eyes as the first hit of caffeine rushed through me. ‘Was there anything better than that first coffee in the morning?’ I wondered, turning back to the stove and the food cooking there.

Breakfast was nearly done by the time I heard Sprite walking down the passage towards the kitchen. Turning slightly to look at her over my shoulder, I couldn’t help but smile at what she was wearing. She had on dark green leggings, a Christmas jumper filled with gingerbread men, and fluffy red socks; her hair was in a jaunty ponytail that swung with every step she took.

She came to a stop when she saw me staring at her, “What?”

The grin that spread over my face had her narrowing her eyes at me, “Nothing, Sprite, you’re cute as fuck, though.”

“Huh,” she uttered with a little sniff and walked to the coffee pot, not saying anything else. Taking a Christmas mug from the cupboard, making me smile at how much she seemed to love Christmas, she filled it up, leaving just enough space for milk. Taking a big sip, she sighed as she closed her eyes, her face relaxed in bliss.

Opening them to catch me watching her, she grinned, “I love that first taste of coffee in the morning. The rush makes me happy.”

Shaking my head at her words, they weren’t much different to what I’d been thinking. Taking plates out of the cupboard that I’d found when I was looking for the mugs, I started plating up our breakfast and took it to the table. Sprite grabbed our coffees and some cutlery before sitting down.

“This looks amazing. Thank you,” she declared, tucking in. We ate in silence for a moment, not that it was awkward. You would have thought it would be, with us not knowing each other, but it was comfortable. I’m not sure what it was about her, but she was the easiest woman I’d ever been around. There was no denying the chemistry between us, and my age didn’t seem to bother her, not that we’d discussed our ages, but I was definitely a lot older than her. Although she seemed to have her life sorted and completely together for someone who seemed so young.

Once she’d finished, she pushed her plate away, pulled a leg up onto her chair, wrapping an arm around it while she continued to sip on her coffee while she waited on me.

“Thanks for cooking breakfast, leave your plate, I’ll clean up once I’ve finished my coffee,” she said with a small smile, stopping me as I went to pick up my plate.

Sitting back down, I picked up my mug and waited for the questions I could see building on her face.

Tilting her head slightly, she continued to peruse me, I waited. I was a patient man, in my previous form of work I’d had to be. “Ask your questions, Sprite.”

“Will you answer them truthfully?”

“If I can and if I can’t, I’ll tell you,” I told her honestly. She seemed satisfied with that answer, sitting back more comfortably in her chair.

“What’s your name?”

“Tommy,” I answered with a smile.

Shaking her head at me, she demanded, “Your full name.”

Sighing, I sat forward, my hands clasped together on the table, I looked at her, “Tommy O’Shea.” She jerked in surprise at the name. I waved a hand around her home. “This is the house I grew up in,” I told her. “Although it looks better now than it did then. It’s certainly more cheerful.”

So far, she’d not said a word at learning my name. I watched as she bit her lip, watching me. My cock hardened as her tongue swiped across her lower lip. This woman was going to kill me at this rate. I seemed to be constantly hard around her.

I was jerked out of my thoughts when she said, “You’re Colm’s nephew. The one he thought was dead. He kept this house for as long as he could, hoping you’d be home. But when he hadn’t heard from you for two years, he decided to sell.”

“Yeah, for reasons I can’t go into, it was better that they thought I was dead. It wasn’t safe for me to come home until I’d tied up a few loose ends. I’m glad he sold it to you. You’ve made it into a home, which it wasn’t when I lived here.”

“Do you want to contact Colm? They’re all home for Christmas.”

I shook my head, “No, I’ll wait a few days until I’m moving better.” Then the thought hit me that she may want me gone and my head jerked up to look into her chocolate brown eyes. “Unless you want me to go.”

Her hands shot forward to grab hold of mine that were still resting on the table and gave them a quick squeeze, replying earnestly, “No, I don’t want you to leave. You’re welcome here for as long as you want.”

“Thanks, Sprite, I won’t be a problem. I’m happy to chip in on cleaning and cooking. I’m not a freeloader. Do you need to go into town for groceries?”

“I didn’t think you were,” she assured me with a small smile, “and no, we’re good for the next couple of days for food.”

She stood up from the table, picked up our plates and took them to the sink, seemingly done with the conversation. Turning back to me once she’d set them down, she asked, “There is one thing you can clear up for me, though.”

Crooking a brow at her in query, she grabbed my hand and pulled me up, taking a pen from the kitchen counter where it had been lying next to a notebook that looked like it was used for making lists. She pulled me along to the pantry. Opening the door and switching on the light, she gestured to the height chart on the door frame. It was the one good memory I had from this house; every year on my birthday, my mum would measure me and make a mark against the frame. Running a finger down the list from when I was about three years old until she stopped when I went to live next door.

“I’m guessing this was for you,” Sprite grinned up at me. Nodding, I returned her grin with a smile of my own, “Yeah it was. The last one was when I was twelve and I went to live next door.”

She didn’t say anything about my comment, just pushed me until I was standing at the doorframe, pen in hand, looking at me expectantly. With a beleaguered sigh, I pretended to be put out but dutifully stood still while she rose up on her tiptoes, her small, pink tongue peeking out between her teeth as she concentrated at drawing a line above my head. Happy, she settled back down on her heels, pulling me away from the doorjamb. Standing on her toes, she wrote Tommy under the line, the date, then looked at me, eyebrows raised in query, “How old are you?”

“Forty-five,” I told her, wondering what she’d think of my age. Not saying anything, she wrote my age down with a small smile, stepping back looking satisfied.

Taking the pen from her, I pushed her gently back against the doorframe and made a mark above her head, before writing her name and then looking at her, my brow raised in question. She hesitated, then asked, “If I tell you, are you going to freak out?”

“I won’t know unless you tell me,” I replied honestly.

“Twenty-seven.”

I groaned when I did the math, fuck me, there was eighteen years between us. A hard slap on my arm brought me out of my thoughts to find her glaring at me.

“I knew I shouldn’t have told you. It’s just a number,” she grumbled. “It’s not like you’re sixty.”

Then she grinned cheekily at me, “I’m not calling you daddy, though, just so you know. Although I won’t say no to a spanking if you feel the need.”

It took a while for her words to penetrate my lust filled brain, but when they did, I lunged for her as she ran away laughing hysterically. Catching her, I swept her up into my arms ignoring the twinge in my ribs and took her to her bedroom where I dumped her on the bed with a wicked grin as I pushed my pants off and pulled my shirt off at the same time. And then my fingers were gripping the bottom of her jumper. Lifting her arms for me to take it off, her laughter stopped abruptly, her eyes were heated when they met mine. She swiped a tongue over her plump, pink lips. Slipping my fingers into the elastic of her leggings, I pulled them off her, taking her socks with them. Ten seconds later, my head was buried between her legs, and she was calling my name as I licked and sucked at her delicious pussy. Gently, I thrust a finger into her channel, wondering how the fuck I was going to get my dick in there it was that tight. Slowly, I added a second, but I could already feel her orgasm building. I knew it wouldn’t be long now, and I was right as she gushed over my fingers, nearly strangling them with the intensity of her orgasm. Humming against her clit, I ignored the way her fingers were pulling at my hair.

“Tommy,” she pleaded as she sobbed out my name on a whimper. Lifting my head slightly so that my eyes met hers over her belly as I looked up the length of her body.

“I need you,” she whimpered, tugging at my hair. Crawling up her body, I pulled the cups of her bra down as I pressed kisses first to her stomach and then up her body until I got to her breasts, her nipples hard ruby red points just begging for my mouth. Lowering my head, I sucked first one in, then the other into my mouth, releasing them with a pop, loving the cherry redness of them glistening and wet from my mouth.

Wrapping her legs around my hips, she pulled me closer to her, the tip of my cock butting up against her clit, making her writhe and rock her hips against me. Lifting my mouth from her breasts, cupping her head in my hands to get her attention.

“Sprite,” I growled, she turned her hazy lust filled gaze to me. “Protection, do we need it?”

My words finally penetrated her need, and I breathed a sigh of relief as she shook her head. “I’m on the pill and I’m clean. I haven’t been with anyone in two years.”

‘Well, that explained the tightness of her pussy,’ I thought.

“You?” she asked a little hesitantly.

“I’m clean, baby, I’d never put you at risk. But I can go get a condom, if you want.”

She contemplated me for a bit before tightening her legs and tipping her pelvis until my cock was notched in her opening. I closed my eyes in bliss as the tip of my cock met her wet heat and gently thrust against her, slowly inching in a little at a time. Sweat was beading my brow by the time I made it all the way inside her. ‘Fuck me, she was tight. I wasn’t going to last at this rate,’ I thought.

With one last thrust, I planted myself deep inside her, and my eyes rolled to the back of my head at how good it felt to be so deep inside her. Staying still was sweet agony as I waited for her to adjust to my size. Only when I felt her relax did I move, thrusting into her depths, gritting my teeth and getting harder and harder at her every moan. I wasn’t going to last much longer; she needed to come and come now.

Sitting back on my heels, I unwrapped her legs from around my waist and brought them both over my left shoulder. She was gorgeous in the morning light, head thrown back, body arched in bliss as she took all of me. Putting my thumb in my mouth, wetting it, I then stroked it across her clit.

“Come for me, Sprite,” I commanded, “Come for me now.” And did she come? She came so beautifully, sweat beading her chest that heaved with each breath, her nipples hard and red. Following her not long after, I gasped for breath as her pussy strangled my cock, pulling every bit of cum from my body.

Panting, I lay her legs back on the bed. Bending forward, I take a hard nipple in my mouth, her pussy contracting with every suck, I moved from one to the other, slowly getting hard again. ‘I guess we weren’t done yet,’ I thought as I gently thrust into her. Lifting my mouth from her breast, I find her lips, kissing her long and deep until we come once again. With a sated sigh, I sink into her and relax, my head tucked into the crook of her neck.

“Jesus,” she muttered, “if that’s what you can do at forty-five, I hate to know what you could do at eighteen. I think you broke me.”

My shoulders shook with laughter at her words. Lifting my head, I looked down at her, “Trust me, baby, at eighteen, I would have been done two seconds after I was inside you. Stamina comes with age.”

“Thank Christ you’re older then. Bring it on, I say,” she grinned at me, her eyes sparkling happily, before tapping me on my side to move. “I need to clean up. Do you want to join me in the shower?”

With a groan, I moved off her and stood by the bed, bending to pick her up. I winced a bit as my injuries pulled; I was feeling all the pain now that the painkillers and endorphins were fading away.

“Put me down,” she grumbled at me, slapping me gently on the shoulder, “you’re injured.”

“Bathroom’s not far, Sprite,” I assured her as I put her down on the bathroom mat, reaching in to switch on the shower.

I should have known that I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off her. By the time we were done in the shower, I was ready for a nap, feeling every one of my forty-five years, but I didn’t feel too bad because my Sprite joined me, falling asleep as soon as her head hit her pillow.

We slept well into the afternoon before waking up starving. The rest of the evening was spent eating, getting to know each other, and watching what she deemed were appropriate Christmas movies. I didn’t complain as most of them were blow-them-up-movies with lots of gratuitous violence and the others were comedies. She told me why she loved Christmas so much, and it made me happy that she’d had a fantastic childhood with parents that loved her. It was what she deserved. We chatted late into the night in between movies and snack runs. I can’t remember the last time I’d enjoyed myself so much.

We finished the evening with another round in bed, and it was the best Christmas Eve I’d had in years. It made me wonder what tomorrow would bring.