The strong wind blew the downpour toward her window, and the screen rumbled in her face. However frightening, Maria didn't mind the commotion outside. It was soothing the current silence in the house. The lights had flickered for an hour before finally going out a few minutes ago, sending darkness and silence to her once noisy room. Even though she was alone, the sounds of the TV and the music playing softly in the background had drowned out her passions and numbed her lonely heart.
Maria shouldn't have been alone. Her boyfriend should have been with her. The pair had broken up a few months ago, but she believed he would return to her life. He had to. The man belonged to her. Glancing at her phone to find another signal bar lost, Maria shivered slightly, wishing she had stayed with her parents at their request.
Her father's voice chimed into her mind, "You don't need to be alone during a hurricane. Anything could happen, and you have no man to help you if the roof falls in."
A conversation they had last week when Hurricane Josh threatened Eastern North Carolina. Now it was Ian threatening to unleash its powerful turmoil on the Tarheel state, and she was still alone. A knock at the door jerked her from her daze at the mighty force of Ian's current wrath. It's the wind, she thought, until the bangs became distinct. Someone was knocking.
The door was difficult to open on a sunny day, but now it took all of her strength to keep it closed. The stupid man standing on her porch in the middle of a hurricane didn't know this, but she condemned him as if he did, "Ugh, It's a goddamn hurricane. What the"
The end of a polished knife ended her judgment, and she became stunned, letting the door go.
"Get back into the house," The man ordered.
Maria's eyes widened as the screen door flew out into the yard, distracting her from his threatening voice, "Oh my God, my fucking screen door."
The man nudged her torso as his harsh voice commanded again, "Get back in there."
"You owe me for that door," Maria barked and backed into her dark living room, "Don't hurt me, just take whatever and leave. Who robs a fucking house in the middle of a storm," she looked toward him in disgust, his body dripping with rainwater.
It took a moment for the man to get his bearings, dressed in a simple brown t-shirt that was soaked. His jeans had once been light blue and now held a darker hue. Glancing around the room, he wiped his eyes, "You got candles?" He shook the excess water off his clothes onto her new carpet.
Looking toward him, disturbed, she shouted, "No!"
Even with the upper hand, the man flinched at her shout and backed up.
"Move from here and stand over there," Maria ordered, pointing toward the spot where she placed her shoes, "And take your shoes off. I just got that carpet last month."
"You don't have candles?"
"You want candles?" Maria stared at him with annoyance, realizing he was nothing to fear.
With uncertainty in his voice, he clarified, "Yeah, I don't have any, and I need some. Um, my lights went out. "
"I have some, but. So, wait, what's the knife for?" Maria's brow arched, and she suddenly found this sad sack amusing.
"Why didn't you light any in here?"
"There in my bedroom," Maria told him, perplexed by this situation and the lack of confidence in this home invader, "That's all you want? Candles? No cookies or bottled water?" Maria knew it was dumb to fool with this man, but something about this criminal was slightly off. She was a strong-minded woman and, like a dog, could smell a pussy from a mile away.
Sensing her suspicion and clenching the knife, he pointed it at her, "Go. Get them, now."
Growing more suspicious, Maria slowly stepped back into the hallway as he dropped more rainwater everywhere. She cringed at her ruined carpet with no choice and a deadly weapon pointed at her. She entered the kitchen to get one of her own. Returning with a knife, she pointed it at him and yelled, "Drop your knife!"
He obeyed, dropping it to the floor, and Maria hurried toward it. When she did, the man caught her by the hair, yanking a handful. She gave a startled scream as he snatched her toward his hard body, pulling the weapon out of her hand and quickly lifting her onto his shoulders. Maria couldn't help but think she was wrong. Maybe he wasn't a pussy, after all.
He entered the bedroom with the lit candles and let her go. Maria landed on her soft mattress and leaped up. To her surprise, she was now looking at the end of a small gun.
"Lay down," he ordered.
Heart pounding, she lay flat on the bed, her legs closed tightly. Glancing at his face, she noticed a mole on his right cheek. Regardless of the blemish, he was ruggedly handsome but filthy as hell, something hanging in his full beard. As he removed his wet shirt, her eyes softened to his hairy muscular chest and tight stomach. The look on his face was fierce. He was going to take her. Good luck, she thought.
"I'm not going to touch you," came his explanation. "And I don't want any money, either."
Maria arched her brows and started to ask what he actually wanted, but now he was taking his pants off, and there hung a massive limp cock on the side of his pale solid thighs. Maybe he's gay, she thought, looking toward his large sluggish apparatus with yearning.
"Well, what do you want?" Maria asked, keeping her eyes on his flaccid cock, awaiting its spurt.
His head dropped in shame, "I'm. I'm homeless. And it's a goddamn hurricane out there. I've seen you before. You work at Oscar's bar, right?"
Nodding, Maria examined his saddened expression as he stood naked in front of her. She couldn't place him. So many men came in and out of that bar every night. But he did look like one of the miserable bastards she had entertained before, out on his luck and desperate to serve.
"Like I said, I don't want anything. Just needed to get dry, okay?" Suddenly realizing he was naked, his hand flew to hide his meat, "I...I can't go back out there. Those winds are...."
Maria nodded and said, "You can stay if you promise not to scare me. What's your name?"
"I know. I'm sorry. I'm Ian," he shivered in response.
Maria laughed and didn't stop as his face grew grim. His jaw clenched in irritation, becoming offended, "What's so fucking funny? I could take your money," Ian warned, feeling insecure in front of the beautiful woman.
"No, it's just that's the name of the Hurricane. Hurricane Ian. You got an anger problem, Hurricane?"
Ian felt foolish, "No, I just, um, I...I forgot the name of the hurricane," Ian shook his head regretfully, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap."
Maria licked her lips, "If you promise not to shoot me, you could sit down and get warm."
Ian clasped his gun and took a seat, bare ass onto her soft made-up bed. Now that he was here and dry, he was losing his tough persona. He had never done anything like this. Ian blamed the weather. The rain had been painful on his skin, and the thin shirt had been no protection against the harsh winds. It was the reason that drove him to do this unpredictable thing. What had his existence come to breaking into this young woman's home and scaring her to death?
Ian sighed deeply as his head dropped in failure, "I apologize again. When this is over, I don't mind you turning me in. I don't mind going to jail. I'll have a place to stay, at least,"
Maria couldn't help but smile, knowing he was a lamb trying to be a wolf, "You said you wouldn't hurt me, right? As long as you behave, I won't call the police."
Maria grabbed a throw from her bed and wrapped it around his trembling shoulders.
"Thanks. I know this is fucked up," Ian chuckled nervously. "I'm sorry. I pulled your hair."
Biting her lip, Maria smiled, "Isn't the first time."
Ian turned around wide-eyed, "Someone has assaulted you before?"
"No, I mean," Maria giggled as his eyes flickered with concern, "Nevermind."
Ian turned back and looked toward the plastic gun, flipping it over and around. Anything to rid him of the awkwardness and the sick feeling floating in his stomach. A loud crashing sound made him leap up, and the throw landed on the bed.
