Another Man's Treasure
Here's a gentle nc/reluctant tale about a rebound relationship that starts a little sooner than Livia expects. As always, this is just fantasy.
Livia stared at the wall of the yurt, tracing paths around the wooden criss-cross bracing. From the bottom of the door, up and to the left until it reached the sloped ceiling, then back down to where it ended beneath the window. Then back again, the other way. Her eyes paced the walls as the light from the window had gone from hazy morning to glaring mid-afternoon, closed for a nap until the heat broke, then continued the project until the wind came up and the sun set beneath the mountains. She'd told her friends she just needed a nap. and they'd been understanding, only interrupting her vigil briefly by knocking to check on her every now and then, but otherwise respecting her privacy.
She didn't want to cry around them. She didn't even want to cry by herself. It wasn't just that Phil had left her; it's that he had left her on their getaway with some of her dearest friends. The one they'd planned together, the one she thought she'd been looking forward to -- that she thought they'd both been looking forward to -- for so long.
It almost seemed designed to hurt her, after all she'd done, that he could.... She pushed the thought out of her head. She wasn't crying. Not for him, not even for herself and her own stupidity in rejecting her friends' advice and fighting for a man she knew now wasn't worth it. Not even for the fact that, despite knowing that he was the reason, part of her still wanted him here to hold and comfort her.
Her friends had been respectfully quiet. She sort of wished they were louder, laughing and joking and singing like the group 50 yards down the road behind her yurt. Not speaking with those hushed voices which made it hard to imagine they were discussing anything but her. She wished they'd forget her. Then maybe she could forget herself, and join them to joke and laugh without their pity.
As soon as the thought of joining occurred, she started to talk herself out of it. It was growing dark inside the yurt, and she wasn't going to pull out a flashlight or turn on the one working lamp on its last working lightbulb just to continue staring at the wall. But dark meant cold, even with the little fire pit, and she was warm here. She closed her eyes and felt peaceful. Worn out. She didn't even notice herself falling asleep.
In her dream, Phil came to her bed, but he was bigger, harder and the way he was holding her was strange. It felt was like the first night they'd slept together, grabby, but in a way she liked. And then she woke up, and he was still there, her wrists in one hand, the other on her chest, just below her throat. He smelled like beer and sweat and campfire, half-washed away in a lake. He was spooning her, and he tensed when she woke. She lay there in confusion, wondering if the whole day had somehow been a dream and he'd never left. Then she noticed the fabric of his clothes against her (Phil would never wear anything but boxers to bed). And there was his body; he was bigger and more built than Phil, his bicep pressing against her where his arm wrapped around. She must have shown her alarm, because his leg wrapped around her and his hand covered her mouth, quick as a flash.
"Shh!" he whispered, his whiskers tickling her ear. "I'm not going to hurt you. Just wanna talk."
She held very still. He was muscular, she could tell, and wearing shorts and a tee shirt. She could feel his cock where his leg wrapped over her, huge and tucked down the leg of his shorts. His hand loosened over her mouth, the fingers stroking the side of her face. The tips were rough, but his touch was gentle. Controlled.
"Heard you fighting with that idiot earlier. Can't stand men like that, too stupid to know what they've got. You're better off without him, if you don't mind me saying."
She took a breath in, wondering if she was meant to reply. She settled on a questioning little "mmph?"
"Go ahead and talk, just no louder than me."
"Are you serious?" she whispered back. She couldn't decide whether she wanted to scream, or laugh, or fight him off, or just give up.
"Of course I'm serious. Beautiful girl like you and you don't know your worth?"
"I... I know my worth. You don't know me."
"I know you're gorgeous. Way prettier than your redhead friend strutting about in that bikini top."
"Prettier than J-" she stopped herself, before she gave this invader her friend's name. No one said she was hotter than Janet. Even Phil had only been able to deliver a milquetoast, "you're more my type" when Janet had put on her flirtatious routine the first time they met.
"Much prettier than Janet," he whispered in her ear."I could have gotten in her bed the ordinary way."
"Just because a woman flirts doesn't mean- This is ridiculous! Just let me go, and we can forget all about this."
"Maybe I don't want to forget this," he said. She could hear the grin in his voice. "Just hear me out first. He leave his stuff here?"
"Yeah, some of it."
"I bet he expects you to keep it for him, huh?"
She sighed. "I guess. Knowing Phil, he'll come by out of nowhere in a few weeks, and expect me to have it all packaged and waiting for him," she said, wondering why she was saying this to him. You're in danger, she told herself. You should be fighting back. You should be terrified. But no, she was just being smart. She'd keep it casual, until he was off his guard. And then-
"I had a girlfriend like that once. The entitlement," he sighed, playing with a curl of her dark hair. "Is any of it valuable?"
"Oh yeah, if you want it, it's yours. Saves me the trouble." She willed herself not to tense and give it away.
"Interesting. Here, let me get the light," he said reaching behind him. She paused for just long enough to overrule the part of herself that saw a well-built stranger sneaking into her bed and holding her by the wrists in the middle of a forest as a strange and exciting adventure -- it was too important of an opportunity to pass up. Then, she took in a deep breath and screamed.
Well, she tried to. She got out an "ah!" and the hand was back on her mouth, this time covering her nose as well to muffle her entirely. He'd been testing her.
"You're smart, too," he said. "You can spot an opportunity, unlike that ex." He tightened his grip. "Stop squirming. Just hear me out. We can't have much of a conversation if I have to truss you like a turkey, can we?"
She sagged in resignation. "Good girl," he said, removing his hand from her mouth. "Alright, now, can you pick a number?"
"What? A number? Why should-?" she jumped as a pair of handcuffs clicked smoothly onto her wrists. Fuck. Guess she wasn't the only one who could spot an opportunity.
"Sorry for the trick," he said, sounding genuine. "It's just in case you get a bad idea." He cleared his throat. "Now, let's see what we've got," he said, reaching behind himself to flick on the light. She could feel his body shift as his eyes scanned the room. "What is that? No! Did he bring a metal detector on vacation with his gorgeous girlfriend?"
"Yeah, I got it for him," she said, strangely embarrassed.
"Really? I hope I'm not insulting your hobby or something."
