The Florencia Lozano Homepage - Fan Fiction
Chapter 1
It was dawn. Todd Manning laid back with his head resting in the crook of his arm, looking up at the black, angry clouds that darkened the skylight above him as they gathered in small platoons--billowing, shadowy soldiers ready to strike--as loud rumbles of thunder called out to them in the distance with an ominous battle-cry. War was coming.
A sharp, white flash of fluorescent light blinked across the dim room as heavy raindrops pelted the large, round window above him with a furious assault and a torrential downpour began.
Todd’s face broke into a wide grin…he loved thunderstorms…loved being warm and safe in his bed while the violent elements of nature fought it out outside. For years he’d felt that battle inside him…chaotic and tormenting…now, he enjoyed observing the storms from a safe place…like some retired general casually watching the theater of war from a benign distance, moving his battalions around with long-armed instruments that insured his safety.
Tea stirred beside him, warm and fragrant, but remaining in a deep sleep. Reaching over he touched her hair softly, wrapping its long, smooth strands between his fingers, wanting to touch her but afraid to awaken her. Her hair was safe, he thought…it had no nerve-endings, no blood or senses…it was only dead protein in his hand, but even her hair sent a thrill through his body…silky ropes of love that bound him to her forever.
Years and years of abuse, violence and loneliness had left him with an emotional deficiency that could never be completely filled…a hopeless love junky with a bottomless pit of need. Her selfless love…her admiration and respect…her generous body…they all acted like some mysterious narcotic that made him feel normal…human…almost cured of his dark disease. Tea was his Methadone, taking away all the pain, all the dark, destructive cravings, the drug that made functioning among the living possible again. He knew he’d never be completely cured, always just a crisis away from slipping back into the lonely hell of his addictive self-hatred, and the need to escape always lurking nearby, but…as long as Tea was in his life…he’d be okay.
Slowly he slid out of bed, careful not to disturb her and walked toward the dresser, pulling out a pair of black sweatpants. Catching his naked image in a tall mirror by the wall he stopped and walked over observing his reflection curiously. Lifting up his hand he let his fingertips slide across the long scar along his right cheek, that deep, jagged gash of reality that never let him forget who he truly was and what he had done….the scar that had been his touchstone, his truth in the past, but had now faded considerably…almost making him forget his ugly history.
His hazel eyes trailed along his body, his fingers touching the hard, lean muscles of his torso, his stomach, his pelvis…his gaze resting on the dark nest surrounding his organ, that complicated instrument that had been used as a violent weapon in the terrible assault on Marty Saybrook…that delicate instrument that Tea had taught him to trust and play expertly with her patient instruction in the act of love…an implement capable of excruciating pain and unimaginable pleasure. Closing his eyes he took his organ into the palm of his hand and imagined her delicate touch, her warm mouth and silky tongue all over him, suppressing the painful images of the past with her love of last night.
A clap of thunder shook him out of his sensual meanderings and reaching down he put his sweatpants on quickly and headed downstairs to the second floor, leaving the entire third level--their bedroom--behind. At the bottom of the stairs he turned right and walked into the nursery, a colorful room lighted by a small nightlight on the wall. Peaking into the crib he watched his eight-month old daughter, Alma, breathing softly in innocent slumber, her perfect, infantile beauty choking him with love for her. Creeping out softly he made his way down the hallway and opened the door to Starr’s room, his ten-year-old daughter, who was sleeping soundly as well, bringing a smile to his face. Leaving Starr’s room he stood in the hallway listening for any disturbances the storm may have caused but all he could hear was the loud, rhythmic snoring of Hedda, their stout, Swedish housekeeper, reverberating throughout the second level, a deep, sonorous sound that soothed his daughters to sleep every night.
Running quietly downstairs he checked all the windows and doors making sure everything was battened down tightly, looking into the dark corners of the large rooms with a restless fear as if dark spirits lurked there, lying in wait to destroy his world. Standing alert and still in the foyer, a protective lion defending his lair as lightening flashed all around him, he listened for sounds of intrusion, of disturbance, as a strange and powerful feeling of foreboding completely overwhelmed him...an imminent danger approaching…another storm.
“Just me and my fucking paranoia, as usual,” he whispered to himself.
Finally, he headed back upstairs, taking the stairs two at a time and returned to his bedroom.
“Querido?”
Todd heard Tea’s voice as he walked back toward the bed. She lifted her groggy head off the pillow, her eyes blinking as she struggled to pull herself into a state of consciousness.
“Todd? Amor…where are you?” she whispered, her hand reaching out across his pillow.
“I’m right here,” he said quietly, standing beside the bed as a flash of lightening lit his image in a stark white light for a second before the room went dark again and he became a shadow.
Tea sat up and reached for the light but Todd stopped her.
“Don’t…I like it this way.”
She sat up and leaned against the headboard, staring at his dusky image.
“Ah…the storm. You like storms, don’t you? Todd Manning in his element…in all his dark and troubled glory…reeking havoc and disturbing the peace,” she said, yawning softly.
Todd smiled and walked over, getting on the bed beside her.
“Yeah…I like this…like the noise…the power…the intensity….the nihilistic destruction it causes. Because…after destruction comes…peace…and order. I guess I like that….that sometimes something has to be completely destroyed before it can be…rebuilt. It just makes sense to me.”
“Like you? Is that how you feel, Todd…rebuilt?” she asked as she took his hand in hers and kissed each of his knuckles sweetly.
“Yeah…a little. But…unfortunately…I still have the same foundation…the same fucking past.”
“Yes, amor…but without a strong foundation nothing can stand. Besides…I love your foundation…it’s the fundamental part of your character…of the man you’ve become. Although…I also know…no matter how happy you are with our family…there’s always a storm stirring deep inside of you…a restless, dangerous element that you work night and day to keep at bay…to protect us from. It hurts me to know you can’t let yourself be completely happy.”
Todd turned to her, his eyes filled with anxiety.
“In my case complacency is way too dangerous. I never want to hurt you…or my girls. But…doesn’t that scare you, Tea…that I could just blow like that and fuck everything up?”
“No. I’m not afraid. I love you, all of you…that’s what you have a hard time accepting. I love every part of you…even the part you’re so afraid of.”
Reaching over he stroked her long hair and pushed it behind her bare shoulder, a small, sensuous smile playing on his lips.
“You know, Delgado…I think you like knowing I’m…a little dangerous…don’t you? I think any other type of man would bore you to death. Maybe…you like storms too.”
Tea smiled wickedly and raised herself up, straddling him quickly, her warm, naked body pressing against his bare chest as her hands raked his long hair back and she stared into his beautiful, chartreuse eyes. Her silky voice lowered to a rough, sexy whisper that came from deep within her throat and sparked his sexual desire.
“I do like storms…like the one you created inside me last night, that storm that ripped through my body, making me shake and tremble and cry out your name over and over again…till I exploded with you,” she whispered seductively as she placed her face against his, the tip of her tongue just wetting his bottom lip, just brushing his silky goatee.
A loud rumble of thunder rang out above their heads as Todd brushed his lips against hers, his hot breath mingling with hers, but resisting, holding back…wanting that moment of erogenous anticipation—loving the foreplay as much as the sex. Living with Tea was like living in a state of constant arousal, a stasis of rebirth…his mind and body continuously reawakening...coming to life.
“Oh…yeah…I remember that storm…rough, wild…it totally rocked. Good one,” he said as his hands reached behind her, pressing his fingers into the warm, naked flesh of her smooth back, pulling her closer. “And you know…I think I feel something stirring…another storm rising,” he whispered, taking her mouth between his generous lips, no longer able to resist the allure of the sexual scent that emanated from her.
The thunder rumbled on as a loud pounding followed it. Tea pulled away.
“What was that?”
“Thunder,” whispered Todd, his eyes still closed as he yanked her back impatiently and slammed his body into hers, his urgency causing Tea to moan softly as she surrendered to his need, matching her passion to his. “M-m-m…nothing like a good, stormy, morning fuck,” he whispered into her neck, biting it hungrily as Tea laughed.
“Is that how you want it this morning…a little bumpy…a little rough,” she asked, snapping his head back sharply against the head board, her mouth assaulting his, bruising and biting his lips with a primal urgency, a slightly painful kiss that left him breathless and slightly off balance. Suddenly, surprising him again, she changed the pressure, her soft, silky lips kissing him dozens of times with an excruciating gentleness that caused him to groan with delirious impatience. She knew how to work him like no other woman ever could…knew his body craved both the excitement of her aggression and the safety of her tenderness. “You like that, baby,” she purred into his ear in a husky voice as her fingers slipped beneath his waistband and stroked the rough hairs of his groin.
“Yeah…love it,” he could barely whisper in a mindless passion as Tea’s hand found him and he pushed his erection into her hand, “touch me…love me hard…”
Another clap of thunder exploded above them.
Again Tea pulled away as a loud, rhythmic thumping was heard following the sound of the thunder. This time Todd heard it too as he pushed her off and jumped quickly out of bed.
“Stay here,” he shouted as he ran downstairs, taking three steps at a time, stumbling part of the way down the last flight in his haste. By the time he reached the foyer on the first floor he was out of breath…a rush of adrenaline pumping through his body as he heard the loud, metallic sound of the brass doorknocker banging away against its base. He looked at the tall, gothic clock against the wall… the monstrous, mahogany cabinet with its winged gargoyles keeping watchful eye on things, it’s baroque chime ringing out the hour in a lovely, haunting timbre. It was six A.M.
Finally, reaching for the handle he unlocked the door. Swinging it wide open, he saw a tall, shadowy figure standing in the rain. Reaching for the light switch he turned the outside light on and saw a pair of raging, icy green eyes staring back at him. It was Blair, fresh from prison!
2002 Copyright by Trog
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