Kate George

Kate George Writing Sample Sex Scene My mouth was dry. I pried my tongue off the roof of my mouth and cracked open my eyes. Dark. I reached for the light and felt the world tilt. I dropped my hand without turning on the light. Still drunk, I thought. Still drunk and very thirsty. I tried for the lamp again and managed to turn it on and squeezed my eyes shut.  Great. I have to pee but I can’t open my eyes. I cracked my eyes open and levered myself up into a sitting position. So far so good. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and put my feet on the floor. Cold! I looked for my slippers and remembered I wasn’t home. I grunted and got to my feet. I made it out the door and to the top of the stairs. Didn’t want to use the upstairs bathroom and wake one of the kids.  As I crept down the stairs I realized a light still shone in the living room. Someone must have forgotten to turn it off. I inched myself carefully down the stairs and peered around the corner into the kitchen. No one there. I padded across the kitchen and into the downstairs bathroom.  When I was done I headed for the kitchen sink and ran the cold water. I filled a plastic tumbler and turned toward the stairs. There was a man standing in the archway between the kitchen and living room. I gasped, startled, and the glass flew out of my hands and bounced on the floor. I panicked for about three seconds until I realized it was Beau.  “What are you doing here?” I sounded like I’d been inhaling helium.  “Well, I was going to spend the night, but there was somebody sleeping in my room. I was trying to decide if I should sleep on the couch or go home.”  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”  “That’s all right.” A slight smile played on his lips. “The view is worth the trouble.”  I looked down. I was wearing my T-shirt and panties. Great. I felt my face get hot. I looked around, grabbed Tom’s jacket off the back of a chair and struggled to zip it over my T-shirt. My fingers didn’t want to do what I asked them. If I could get it closed it would just about cover the essentials…  “Bree. I’ve seen you in less than that down by the river.”  “Yeah, well that wasn’t my underwear! I’ve got to clean up this mess.” I waved at the pool of water at my feet. I opened a drawer next to the sink and pulled out a handful of dishtowels. I was pretty sure Meg didn’t use her dishtowels on the floor but I wasn’t going to search around for something more appropriate. When I turned back around Beau had the tumbler in his hand and was blotting the floor with some paper towels.  “Wow. How did you do that so fast?”  “I’m probably not as drunk as you. And I happen to be standing next to the paper towels. Let me get you some more water.” He opened the freezer and grabbed a handful of ice, then refilled my glass.  “How’d you know I like ice in my water?”   “Jeez, Bree. I’ve known you forever. Come watch some TV with me and we can decide if I should drive home or not.”  He didn’t hand me my glass, just walked into the living room. I thought for a moment about going back to bed, but I wanted my water so I followed him. I plopped down on the couch next to Beau as he clicked on the TV. I curled my feet up on the couch to keep them warm.  Beau reached over and traced his fingers along my leg. It was healing pretty well, not as scabby anymore, but not exactly attractive.  “Did you do this falling off your bike?”  “Yeah.” I let out a sigh. “Slid over something sharp. I’m not sure what it was; I didn’t realize until later that I was cut like that. Thought it was just road rash.”  “Tom told me you were trying to drive yourself to the hospital?”  “I didn’t want to bug anybody. I waited until the next day. I guess I was hoping that it didn’t need stitches.” I shrugged and shivered.   “Here.” He draped a blanket over us both. I took my water from him and drank it.  “Much better.” I rested my head on the back of the couch and closed my eyes. Beau slid his arm around my shoulders and I relaxed my head and rested it on his shoulder. I listened to him changing channels. The sound was on low, I could barely hear it. He pulled me in closer.  “You’re not going to try and take advantage of my drunken state are you?” I asked. “You bet I am. I’ve been trying to get with you since sixth grade. I’ve always been attracted to older women.” Beau’s voice was deep with suppressed amusement. “I’m only a year older than you are.”  “A year and a half. It might as well have been ten years when I was twelve and you were fourteen,” Beau said  “I was about six inches taller than you.”  “Now I’m about six inches taller than you. Does that mean our roles are reversed? Because I’d be willing to sacrifice myself if you’re feeling a need for my body.” He was clearly enjoying himself more than I was. “What I’m feeling a need for is another drink. One more and I’ll pass right out.”  “Trying to make it easy for me? Perfect. Let me go get you a shot of something.” He made as if to get up off the couch and I yanked him back down.  “Sit down, I’m not going to drink myself into a stupor.” I closed my eyes again.  “That’s probably best.” He flicked through the channels another minute then I felt his fingers gently brush my bangs off my face. “How can you see with this mess in your face?”   “I can’t see anyway, my eyes are closed.”   He slid his hand through my hair and down the side of my neck. I relaxed a little more. He slid his thumb along my jaw and under my lower lip.  “Nice lips.” He brushed his finger across my lower lip.  “Hmmm.” I was really very comfortable. Beau was warm and I liked the feel of his finger on my mouth. He smelled faintly of soap and hay.  “Why do you smell like hay?”   “Because I spent the day sitting on bales.” Beau’s voice was quiet. “Why? Do you like it?”  “Un-huh. The smell of hay reminds me of summer. Summer reminds me of warm nights swimming in the river and looking at the stars with a boy.”  “Sounds like a good memory.” I felt his breath on my neck. “Lean forward.”  “Why?”  “Just do it.”  I leaned forward. He slid his arm off my shoulder and turned toward me. He tucked his right leg behind me.  “You’re pushing me off the couch.”   “Hush. Just cooperate.” Beau took hold of my shoulders and turned me so that my back was to him. He massaged my shoulders and my neck and I relaxed into the pressure. I bent my knees and rested my arms and head.  “Hmm. Too tense. That’s not good for you. Not that you don’t have reason. Tom told me that Lieutenant Brooks is riding your ass.”  “Drunk people are not supposed to be tense,” I muttered into my arms. “Wait.” I raised my head. “You guys have been talking about me?”  “Tom keeps me updated. Let’s see. Lately, you’ve dropped your bike and split your leg open. That idiot Jim Fisk dumped you and Lieutenant Brooks can’t wait to get his hands on you. Not that I blame him but I think he’s going about it the wrong way.”  “He doesn’t want to get his hands on me for the same reasons you do. He just wants to put me in jail. What’d I ever do to him? Jeez, my life is pitiful right now.”  “I could make it seem much, much better.” He slid his arms around me and pulled me to him, the warmth of his breath on my neck distracting me. I leaned my head back and he slid his lips along my jaw. A tremor went through me.    “That’s supposed to make you feel warmer, not colder.” I could hear the amusement in his voice. “Let’s try this instead.” He tilted my head toward him and kissed me on the mouth. His lips were soft and warm and tasted sweet. I felt his tongue on my lips and my mouth developed a mind of its own.   “I think we should go upstairs. It’s more private.” His breath was soft on my neck.  “I don’t think this is a good idea.” The smart part of my brain made a desperate attempt to reassert itself.  “Oh no. You’re not backing out on me now. Your mind might be saying no, no, but your body is saying yes, yes. A kiss never lies.” His lips touched mine again my mind went blank. I twisted my body and rested my legs across his thigh until I was sitting sideways on his lap. Then I shrugged out of Tom’s jacket and slid my hands under his shirt and around his waist, feeling the smooth heat of his skin.  Beau tugged at the back of my T-shirt and slid his hands up underneath, against my skin, his left hand on my belly, the other on my back. My breath caught as he slid his thumb across my nipple and then cupped my breast. He leaned his head down and nudged the fabric of my shirt aside, running his tongue around my hardened nipple. I moaned.  Beau stood up, lifting me off the couch. Tom’s jacket fell in a heap on the floor. Then he carried me up the stairs to the spare room. The sheets were thrown back from when I’d wandered downstairs. Setting me on my feet, Beau slid my T-shirt back up and over my head and dropped my panties on the floor. The room was cold and Beau wrapped his arms around me when I shivered.  “Get in bed,” he whispered. I slid into the bed while he shed his shirt and jeans. The shade hadn’t been drawn and moonlight lit his body. He was perfect. As he slipped into bed I ran my hand across his abs and then up his chest and down his arms. Hard muscle under smooth skin. He groaned as I ran my hand up the back of his neck and into his hair and he bent to kiss me again.   Beau straddled me, teasing. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and pulled myself up against him. His chest was warm and soft under my mouth. I shifted my hips out from under his weight and wrapped my legs around his waist. Beau moaned deep in his throat and slid into me.   The power of the moment peaked and faded. As I floated into sleep it crossed my mind that I didn’t feel especially slut like. Beau was right; I did feel much, much better.