Tuesday, October 24, 2017

First Meeting from Technically Love by Dellani

Honoria McCormick has just started a new job at a small, regional theatre in Tennessee. Most recently from Orlando, Florida, she's finding adjusting a little more challenging than she thought. However, she met the apprentices at the theatre, and had dinner with them at their house. Late at night, she gets back to the cabin, where she's staying, and gets ready for bed.

Once in her nightshirt, Honoria dashed to the bed, turning off the light in the bathroom as she passed. It was chilly in the house and the thought of warm blankets and soft pillows was appealing. Jumping in the bed, she flung the blankets over her head, cuddling up for warmth. Suddenly, she became aware of the fact she wasn't alone. A warm, hard bodied form snuggled up behind her. A heavily muscled arm flopping over her waist. It was obviously a male body and he was very warm, alive and in her bed!
Screaming like Lisa had when the lizard jumped on her, Honoria launched herself out of the bed, holding the coverlet around herself for warmth and protection. The lamp beside the bed came on and a frowzy looking man with dark hair and a goatee sat up, staring at her.
"Who the hell are you?" she screeched.
"Who are you?" he inquired calmly, scratching his chest.
Honoria shivered, unable to ignore the muscular form under the sheet.
"Ted Bundy," he replied with a smirk.
"Oh, be serious."
"Jeffry Dahmer?"
"Seriously. Who?"
"Groucho Marx."
"Who the hell are you?" She picked up her shoe, ready to hurl it at him. It wasn't much of a weapon, but it was all she had.
He seemed to be amused and trying hard not to laugh at her. "I have to admit, this is the chilliest reception I've ever gotten from a woman. I wonder if my feelings should be hurt." He lay on his side, eyeing her as much as she was him.
"I'll call the cops if you don't tell me who you are and how the hell you got in my room!"
"Freddy Prinz. Freddy Mercury? Al Gore. Bill Clinton?"
"Dammit! Tell me!" She threw her shoe at him.
He watched it clatter on the other side of the room, missing him by a yard or so. "Maybe you'll do better with the other one. It's about six inches stage right."
Honoria glanced down to see her other shoe. She left it there. "You're insufferable! I keep asking who you are!"
"I asked you first," though he hadn't. "Tell me who you are, I'll tell you who I am. That's how it works. An even exchange of information." He pointed to her, then himself.
"I'm Honey."
"Sweet," he smirked, laughing openly at her. "Chester," he replied, holding out his hand without getting up. "But you can call me Chet. Hell, you can call me anything you want, just get back in bed."
"What are you doing here?"
"I work here."
"I mean—here—here." She motioned wildly with one arm, indicating the room and the bed.
"Oh. This is my room. Why are you here?"
"I work here too. This is where Martha told me to put my stuff."
"She probably meant the other bedroom," he pointed across the room and down the hall.
"Other bedroom? I didn't know there was another one."
"Yeah." He pointed again. "So, are you coming back to bed?"
"Your loss." He shrugged, his eyes doing a long sweep from her head to her toes. A slight leer twitched his mouth. "Okay. Well, I need the blanket back. It's chilly in here. Turn out the light when you go."
Honey tossed the blanket at him, grabbed her clothing and toothbrush, walking across the hall in a snit. The second bedroom was much smaller, but comfortable. She closed her door with a bang. There was no lock on the doorknob, so she dragged a chair in front of it, shoving it under the knob with a clatter. She could hear Chet laughing as she crawled in the bed, pulling the blankets over her head. It was nearly 2:00 before she finally fell into a troubled sleep where shoes with dark hair, goatees and disconcerting eyes taunted her.
© 2017 Dellani Oakes

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