Page 41 of Half Blind

“I don't have that many clothes or handbags or shoes, for that matter,” she said. “A major concern would be the weapons cache. I mean, since this is off the ground, creating a storage space under the floor would be easy.”

“Okay, if that is where your mind went,” he said, the disappointment clear in his voice.

“No. Please don't sound like I'm avoiding getting there because I plan to. I plan to go big and break in this home. Jay, I have a surprise for you too,” she said, “I was trying to wait, but if you want it now. I will show it to you.”

“I want it now, Helen,” he whispered, his eyes saying what his mouth was not.

“Then come on,” she told him, pulling him by the hand to the living room. The leather couch from his house waited for them. Helen pushed him onto the seat. From her bag, she pulled out the glass bottle with a roller ball applicator. She smeared the oil on her inner wrists, the back of her thighs, and her throat at the pulse points.

“Helen, is that a new perfume? I've never known you to wear a scent outside of your lotion,” he said, curious about what she was doing. “I don't smell anything.”

“That's because I need to heat it up,” she told him. She used her phone to queue up a hip-hop song. The same dance moves she had highlighted in the lab with Lemon, Helen employed again. She wasn't much of a dancer, and currently she looked like an unemployed stripper past her prime trying to pay the rent.

Helen gyrated.

Helen did a jig and did a few dips.

She shook her slender groove thang. She twisted her lips, shimmied her shoulders, and pulsated her hips.

Mustang sat on the couch thinking the woman had lost her rabid damned mind. The dance moves reminded him of Halle Berry in the orange suit dance inBAPS. He did kind of enjoy the show and the look of sheer satisfaction on her face that the dance she performed would somehow turn him on. Just as he was about to stop her, a scent, so subtle, sultry and intoxicating, hit his nose. His pupils began to dilate. Blood started coursing through his body, going lower and all he wanted to do was mate with the cute lady.

“What in the hell?” he said, leaning forward, uncertain what was happening, but he needed it to stop. A dry mouth spoke husky words, “Helen, come over here.”

“No,” she said, continuing the dance.

“Helen, please get over here. What am I smelling? I know that scent. I almost know the taste of...what is that? Helen? Helen! Damn it, Helen come to me,” he demanded. “Stop wiggling around like that and come on over here.”

“No!” she told him and started to unbutton her sweater.

“Woman, if I get up from this couch.... I’m not going to stop until you're calling my name and scratching up my back,” he said, nearly growling at her. “Come here, Helen.”

She chuckled, tossing the sweater at him. Helen McDaniel actually giggled as she snatched off her bra, twirling it over her head. The skirt came off next and the hot red panties created a juxtaposition on the dark skin.

“Don't make me come over there. I'm trying to be a gentleman, Helen. Come to me,” he said, moving to the edge of the couch. The scent was driving him to distraction, and he wanted her. He wanted her more than he had ever wanted any woman or a three-piece crispy fried chicken strips with hot fries, which were his go-to comfort foods.

“If you want me, catch me,” she told him, taking off running towards the bedroom.

She looked over her shoulder to see if he'd moved from the couch. Mustang was on his feet and right on her heels. In one swoop, he had Helen in his arms while continuing to run to the bedroom. They landed on the bed in a heap.

“Keep in mind, you started this, but I'm going to finish it,” Mustang promised and went to work.

Strong, capable hands roamed over her body. His hot mouth kissed, licked, and sucked on each of points where she placed the love potion oil. She didn't remember him getting undressed until the pressure from the rigidity of his planning penetrated the fog in her mind. Long, deep, thoughtful strokes brought her to the edge as he inhaled the scent on her neck, growling with satisfaction as he went deeper, picking up his pace, not slowing down. The interaction between them left no holds barred as he moved with precision, over and over again, with deep thrusts until she cried out. Her nails razed his back as her legs locked around his hips. Mustang left nothing to chance, bringing her to the edge, then forcing her to tumble over. He fell along with her, grunting in satisfaction as he emptied his reserves and collapsing on his side.

A weighty hand rested on her belly. Helen, her eyes heavily lidded with passion, looked at her man. To her surprise, he didn't seem at all pleased. If anything, her man appeared to be furious. His fury was now directed at her.

“Jay, are you okay?”

“No, I have a cramp in my butt cheek,” he said, grunting as he worked to pull them apart.

“I thought for a moment you were angry at me,” Helen said softly.

“I am,” he told her. “Helen, I don't know what that was or why you felt it was necessary unless I'm not satisfying you. If you want an approach to our lovemaking I'm not using, we can discuss it versus whatever in the hell just happened. Can you tell me what in the hell just happened?”

“A love potion,” she confessed. “I made it in Lemon's lab.”

Mustang closed his eyes for a moment to collect his thoughts. He wanted to address the matter head on and not feel like a simp. “Helen if I don't turn you on, I understand, but at least be kind and let me know, versus, hell, I'm still unclear what that smell is...I felt out of control. I know the scent. I know the taste. What is that?”

Her cheeks reddened. She didn't want to confess the true contents of the potion. Mustang saw it and turned away from her, his bare bottom facing her.

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