“Flirting with Death”
fucking weak
catch me sucking death’s dick
in a burger king’s dumpster at 3 am.
Tumblr post.
It was fuck o’clock in the morning when Sunny finally made it to her new lodgings. She swore she could hear colors she was so tired.
Sunny was once again in the front seat, head resting on the center console as her brother ran his long fingers through her short, pink hair, her muscular legs were tucked up under her. She really didn’t care if Hot Hot Man Bun Man saw her underwear or not. Ten years on the stage had taken away all her modesty. Seen one dick seen ‘em all.
Her mother hated it when she said that. Catori said she sounded like a pole dancer's business card.
Altan pulled down a dirt road, how many of those were there here? Sunny sat up as a small, plain house came into a hazy view. It had started to rain halfway through their drive, Sunny liked the rain. She remembered running outside as a small child to splash in puddles she only saw a few times a year.
Softly splashing water droplets hit the car windows as they drove onwards. The skies were overhung with a blanket of grey, so much so that she could barely tell the difference between the sky and clouds. Despite car rides being tedious, the rain calmed her - she watched raindrops race down the windows. The occasional wave of a puddle could be exciting, but she'd rather be outside in those puddles than stuck in this car.
When at last Sunny arrived, the house was a gray blur behind the rain-washed window of the sedan. It was large, certainly, almost intimidatingly so. On climbing out of the car it took a more detailed form, natural gray stone with all the hues mother nature could provide.
The paintwork on the trim was a brilliant white, flawless and the path that wound to a double oak front door was loose pea shingle pattern. The windows weren't the large ones that were so fashionable now, but more the size she used to see in old country cottages, and like them they were mullioned.
But that's where all the old world charm ended, once across the threshold Sunny could see it was technology and modern design all the way. The floors were polished concrete and the furniture Scandinavian, high-end designers only.
The only compromise to comfort was the sheepskin rug on the floor, so clean it was hard to believe anyone had ever stepped foot on it. The only mess was the wet footprints Sunny had tracked in on the shoes she’d forgotten to remove.
Yet, to her, it was full of fascination. She could picture it, Altan strutting in that tantalizing male walk of his, feet bare and a glass of wine in his hand. She could see him reading a classic in front of that slate grey fireplace. It was empty now, three logs wait patiently for their master to fulfill their purpose.
She had a sudden flash, it was gone so fast she almost couldn’t decipher it in time, but there she was naked as the day she was born. She was basking in the warmth of the fire she knew Altan had built for her, her plump round face turned with a smile she had never seen herself make before as her equally naked mate nestled on the sheepskin rug behind her.
An arm, thick with hard muscle and sinew, drew her close to the owner’s chest. Wisps of black hair filtered over her shoulder to tickle the tops of her breasts as he leaned down. The hand on her stomach began to move, first just ghosting over the teak skin then dipping to cup the mound between her legs. She let out a low moan and tilted her head back to gaze at her mate.
“Si tu amor es una locura, nunca vuelva a encontrar la cordura.” He said it with such utter abandon and such passion her knees were weak, they were soft and almost intangible. Sunny had no earthly idea what those mumbled words were but she felt them, in her heart of hearts did she feel them. His other hand began to trace the outline of her breast, please, please….
“Sunny? Are you alright?” Suddenly she was yanked from that heavenly illusion as fast as she succumbed to it by the man she was just imagining making love to her in the gentlest of ways.
“Huh? What?” She rasped, her voice was deeper than it’s already borderline masculine tone. Damn, be chill Sunny! It’s just a wet dream! Everyone gets those! Okay, maybe not while being awake or standing next to their crush. God, she felt like she woke up on another realm!
“I called for you twice, are you alright?” He asked again, eyes oh so soft. She smiled at him, thankful that her skin was so dark that a blush would not show easily. She’d never had a wet dream before. What an experience.
“Yeah, I’m peachy.” She answered. Altan raised a black brow at her. God how could one man be so beautiful, so elegantly crafted it made angels weep? Life was unfair.
European men like him rarely found her Indian features pretty. She knew she wasn’t pretty by his standards and she was okay with that. Her Hopi face was too round and pudgy to be compared to the angles and lines of the anglo women. Her face was her mother’s, for looking so alike they had drastically different views of life.
“Sol, you are shaking!” He cried, eyes flashing amber before he rained back the beast inside.
“I am?” Sunny could hardly feel if a Boeing WC-135 landed in her midsection she was so out of it. She looked down at her hands, they were indeed slightly shaking. Sunny slowly became more aware of her body as the sticky wet feeling crept into her bones. Christ, she was cold. She was fantasizing about gettin’ jiggy with it with a man she hardly knew, meanwhile, her real-life body was demonstrating what happens when a human and an ice cube had a baby.
“Ya Allah, child, do you not feel it?” He chastised as he yanked a throw that looked like it cost more than her childhood home’s mortgage, to then drape the heavy wool around her shaking shoulders.
“No..t ti..ll no..w.” She chattered, jaw clicking against her frozen teeth. It was the start of winter in Stevensville and the freeze took no prisoners. Sunny’s poor Arizonan blood was having a culture shock. Moony was nowhere to be seen. He loved the cold, being a brown bear and all.
“What am I to do with you?” He said in response to the loud, ungodly sound that her belly emitted on its own accord. She blushed once more.
“Feed me?” She gave him a feeble smile as her stomach once again sang the song of her people: the whales.
“After you get warm.” Altan swept her up in a bridal carry, sparing not an explanation nor a glance to her thoroughly confused brother, who was coming out of the downstairs restroom, as he hauled her partly frozen ass up the stairs. He was dressed in new, dry clothes: a short sleeve, gray tee and matching long, plaid pants. She could see a hint of the thick black lines that made up his tattoo.
The markings flowed along his teak biceps, lending to its beauty and fluidity, then spanned out over his shoulders and back. A tribal work of art with graceful lines and sensual curves, lines and curves that had a deep meaning. The tattoo was like latticework and was ancient, as old as time. Sunny had a matching one, only in a shimmery silver. They didn’t know where they came from, only that they weren’t really tattoos at all. The twins were born with these marks on them, they were very light then, having darkened with age.
“Ni.ice pl..a.ce you go..ot here, b..ud.” She stammered, swiftly recovering from his actions. She took in each tiny detail as she passed them, the walls were the same shade of gray they were downstairs, the only thing breaking up the monochrome was the occasional watercolor flower framed at shoulder height. All made by the same artist.
“Thank you. I had it built when I first arrived here.”
“Wh..en w..as tha..t?” She asked, eyes dropping with wryness. Altan glanced down and frowned, her lips were blue. Her breathing was becoming irregular.
“Ten or so years ago.”
“W..hy Bum Fu..ck Mo..na..ta?” He grinned as her, all teeth and flirts. Her damned blush was back. God she was pathetic.
“I needed a change of pace. Bum Fuck Montana is very different from Spain.”
“I b..bet.” She grinned and sneezed sharply. It was short and sweet, her brother called it a ‘kitten sneeze’. Sunny supposed he was right.
Altan tipped her gently out of his arms and onto the fuzzy gray bath mat. She wrapped her slender arms around herself and shivered once more. Her body wept at the wolf man’s missing heat. He was so warm. Sunny shuffled closer, maybe just one touch… No! Sunny snapped at herself. No! We will not sleep with this man! We are going back to New York as soon as the dumb thing was over and we are going to be a Prima Ballerina again!
“I..i’ve ne..ver be...en to S..pain i...ss it n...nnice?” Altan turned back to her, missing completely the disappointment in her eyes at no longer being able to openly oggle his backside.
“It is lovely. Maybe I’ll take you there. If you don’t die of hypothermia first.” He grumbled, stretching out to stand at his full height, a towering six foot three. Sunny wasn’t short by any means but she felt like it when he was next to her. His black eyes roved over her body, they flashed gold as they took in the tight wet clothing sticking to her. She thought she looked like a drowned rat and lord knows what was going through that man’s brain. “Strip.”
The simple command startled Sunny out of her stupor. ”Wha.at?” She stammered.
“Your ears still work, take off your clothes.” His tone was so flippant and blase that Sunny’s mouth opened in confusion and gaped like a fish.
“No!”
“Woman you either take off your clothes by yourself or I will. You will freeze in those.” Sunny paused for just a touch too long and Altan was flying across the very spacious bathroom and wrestled her shirt off of her, both missing the soft clatter sound as a loose button tumbled from her old skirt and onto the tiled floor. Within seconds Sunny was submerged naked in hot water with Altan’s smug face looking down on her.
“Now was that so hard?”
“You sanctimonious baboon!” She whimpered, the warmth of the bath already seeping into her weary bones. Sunny pulled her knees up to her chest to cover herself from his heated gaze.
“Don’t bother, you are not the first naked woman I have seen.” Sunny glared at him once more. “You do not impress me much.”
“How romantic you are. I am positively titillated over your words.” She deadpanned, but made no move to show him any more of her flesh than she already had.
“You’re a sassy one aren't you?” He mused, a hand petting the faint touch of black hair he had growing on his chin.
“It’s my only flaw.” Her lips were pressed tightly together. “How long was I out?” She asked. The question stopped Altan from retorting, his eyes turned quizzical.
“Ten minutes. What was that? Something you do often?”
“No, I was just thinking.”
Altan’s face shut down, gone was the flirty Spaniard whose smiles were cherished to Sunny even though she only just met him. “He cannot hurt you here, not while I am with you.”
“I know.”
“Now sit there and warm up. I’ll fetch you some of the Caldo Gallego I made Tuesday.” Altan popped a joint in his back when he stretched his arms and smiled at her. It did not reach his black eyes.
“Good thing you cook. Moons and I are hopeless in the kitchen.” She joked, rubbing her bare calf with her thumb.
“Don’t say that. I’m sure you are better than you think.”
“Nah, Amá used to drag me into the kitchen by my hair to try, and I quote, ‘make a lady outta you.’ It didn’t work.” She grinned and splashed some water with her free hand.
“Sit. I will be back shortly.” He was gone. Sunny sat back, head resting on the rim of the white tub. The bathroom was nice. Of course it was in gray, was that his favorite color? It was large, larger than hers at home, the shower could fit two comfortably. It was encased with two clear glass panels, the back wall was a slate tile, placed in a rustic, uneven pattern. There was a solid cloud gray bench and a silver rain shower head that poured water over the river rock tile.
She liked it, but as her name implied, Sunny was all about color and light. The vanity was white with double sinks and had a large mirror over them. It was hanging horizontal, the bulky, dated frame clashed with the modern design of the house. The old chipped glass was inset in vines and leaves of dirty bronze, little rose buds were scattered throughout.
How odd he would place such a thing in here? It was very old and worn. She stared at it, imagining different scenarios for its placement as she began to drift.
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