Romance on the Run

Outside, a thunderstorm battered the night with rain and flashes of electricity followed by booms.  Here in the mission, ceiling fans kept the air moving and lamps lit the sparsely-furnished rooms.

Dr. Lynn Ellison hurried back into the sitting room, bandages and antiseptic in her hands.  A man was lying on the rattan sofa.  In spite of the dim light, Lynn could see the bloody marks on his face and neck.  His shirt was spattered with red drips too.  He was bruised and his lip was swelling.

This was Nicaragua in the late 1950s, a scene of unrest and poverty.  Dr. Ellison had worked in this clinic about eight years, consistently and sometimes wearily helping the native people in an attempt to bring some relief to their suffering villages.  The monotony had begun to wear on her.  The other doctors were two men in their sixties.  They were training some of the natives as nurses and assistants.

About a month ago, Jerry Blaine showed up with a bullet in his leg.  Dr. Ellison and her colleagues gave him medical aid and he’d helped out around the place while he recuperated.  Lynn had tried not to let herself think about how much his coming had set her life in upheaval.  She had long hoped for some change, some kind of meeting, perhaps a romantic one.  It was wonderful to have another American around.  She’d missed just talking with someone who came from a similar background.  From the first moment she met his sober, almost sad gaze, Lynn knew this was no ordinary man.

There were radicals in the area who were opposed to the Americans’ presence and discouraged people going to the clinic.  Today they had tried to keep some seriously ill villagers from getting medical help, starting a small riot.  That was where Jerry received these marks.

Lynn hastily set to work, opening his shirt to reveal a brown, hairy chest also bruised.  She dabbed the wounds with antiseptic.  All the while, he watched her.

“Why did you help us, Jerry?” she asked in her low, even voice.

He winced slightly as she placed a damp cloth on his bleeding cheek.  “Those people needed help,” was his brief reply.

“Most choose not to get involved.”  She glanced at his face.  There was something in the deep focus of his dark eyes that caught her.  “You said you’d be leaving once your leg had healed.  You were good as new two weeks ago.  What’s keeping you?”

“Doctor, it’s safer for you if you don’t know anything about me,” he said quietly.

The tone made her look at him again.  She realized she leaned close to examine the cuts on his forehead and cheeks. Her lips were very near his.  He noticed it too, as evidenced by the dart of his eyes to her mouth.

“This is a clinic, Jerry, not a police station.  You don’t have to be afraid of us,” she whispered.

For a moment he said nothing, but his fingers crept up and gently enclosed around her upper arm.  “I’m not afraid of you,” he finally stated.  “That’s the last feeling I have when I’m close to you.”

Suddenly Lynn couldn’t hold back any longer.  She met his lips in a warm, deep kiss.  He returned it.  Everything else vanished except the longing that was beginning to simmer in both of them.  He vaguely sensed her luscious breasts crushed against his bare chest.

Then she broke the kiss softly.  “I’m sorry.”

A troubled look furrowed Jerry’s brows.  “So am I.  Lynn…more than anything in this world I…I want to let myself fall in love…with you.  It’s been a long time since I felt anything for anyone.  But I can’t.  It would hurt you.”

“Why?” she pleaded.  “Can’t you trust me enough to tell me why?”

He studied her, his eyes so flooded with desire that she could easily read it.

“Jerry, I’m in love with you,” she added, so softly he almost couldn’t hear it.

“No, Lynn.  I can’t let you.”  His tone startled her.  It was almost harsh.  “Listen…I’ve been convicted of murder.  They were going to execute me, but I escaped.  Now I’m on the run.  Do you see why I can’t involve you?” His voice cracked, revealing his inner agony.

Lynn was shocked and kept silent for a few seconds.  She swallowed.  “Are you guilty?”

He looked her in the eye.  “No.  And I can prove it, if I can find my witness.  He saw the real killer.  Even the police know that I’m hunting this man.  But they don’t believe he exists.”

“I do,” Lynn cut in.  “I believe you.”

A strange look, one of emotion, smoothed the tense creases from his face.  Quickly he lifted his head and caught her lips.  She gripped the back of his head and kissed him passionately.  Never in her life had she so wanted a man…had she so wanted this man.  But how could it ever happen?

Knowing that the excitement of the moment might bring on a fever, she pulled away from him.  For a long minute, she stood at the window, watching the rain drip down the glass.  An occasional flare of lightning illuminated the jungle around the compound.

“Lynn…it’s a long shot that I’ll ever prove myself, but…”

She turned, meeting his deep gaze.  She tried to smile, though she wanted to weep.  “I’ll wait.  As long as it takes, I’ll wait for you.”

His face softened in a way she had never seen.  Slowly, he extended his hand to her.

She was beside him in one stride and clasped his hand with hers.

“Stay close,” he begged.  “Just having you near me is so satisfying.”

“I will.”  She pulled up a chair, laid a cloth over his eyes, and sat beside him, his hand still in hers.  Pain and weariness overtook him and he fell asleep.

Making herself comfortable in the chair, Lynn let out a long sigh.  This was a dilemma she’d never seen coming.  Jerry felt something for her, which she had hardly dared to hope for. But he was in such a position that acting on it was impossible.  And it could be years before he was ever exonerated.

Her eyes rested on his still countenance, his purpled cheekbones, his split lip.  Recalling that she had minutes ago tasted his lips flushed her with fire, with need.  How she yearned to do it again! Her gaze wandered down his neck, along the open neck of his shirt, to his strong chest.  It had felt so sweet to be close to him, her body against his, their warmth joining.  Her pelvis tightened; her hips wriggled a little.  Subconsciously, her free hand moved to the crotch of her trousers.  That buildup of desire was settling right there, between her thighs, where femininity found its apex.

Just a gentle rub at first, then her fingers began to tease. They slide firmly along that most intimate place, calling up more sensation and a very noticeable dampness.  Lynn remembered to breathe deeply, to relish this stolen moment of pleasure.  A moment made more naughty knowing that her colleagues could walk in at any moment.  Or Jerry could wake up.  That just fueled her arousal farther.

She worked her finger over the clothed trench of desire, wishing she was naked.  How often had she toyed with herself like this in the privacy of her bedroom?  But never before had she permitted herself to imagine any particular man.  Until now.

The most delightfully shocking images of Jerry ravishing her and making her his lit up her brain.  She pictured herself married to him, going into a bedroom with him.  Maybe on a night just like this, a storm filling the night, the air warm and humid with the smell of rain.  Jerry would shut the door, then grab her and devour her mouth with lustful kisses.  His hands would touch her all over.  She would feel the proof of his attraction in the hardness of his male member.  They’d give each other the gift of their nakedness, a first for her, and explore the sensuous features on display.  She had long dreamed of stroking her palms over her future husband’s chest. And then down his belly, to that bold symbol of manhood and virility.  She wondered…would he be very large? Thick? How would he feel in her hands?

Lynn didn’t even realize that she had slipped her hand into her panties and was now fingering her bare womanhood.  All her brain could sense was a hot, fleshy something rubbing over her slit, dying to enter that sacred channel.  Her mind saw Jerry’s cock, a thing of raw beauty, the part of him that would touch her soul.  Her hips writhed as she caressed herself and allowed the vision to continue.

Jerry laid her out on the bed. He kissed her neck, her breasts, and palmed her skin from her shoulders to her ankles. The muscles in his neck taut with excitement and tension.  Then he sank between her legs and drank from her fountain.  The move startled Lynn and made her moan.  It seemed so wrong…yet so right.  His mouth did wonders on her and encouraged her to give more of her natural juices.  She was ready.

He came up over her, sliding himself along her warm, glistening mound, his eyes hungrily fixed on hers.  She pulled him in, melting at the firm sinews of his buttocks flexing under her hands.  And he pressed against her, sinking deeply, slowly.  Both of them gasped.  She cried out, her finger suddenly within her, probing faster, more furiously.  Oh, she was close.  She could feel Jerry begin to thrust, claiming her as she had always dreamed.  Her body sang with heat and wetness and fullness.  Jerry grunted.  He sped up his movements, taking her with eager need, whispering hot and primal nothings in her ear.

Lynn’s mouth fell open as the convulsion of release took over her.  She didn’t realize that she was gripping Jerry’s hand as he slept, or that she was trembling in her chair.  Her breathing was fast, sharp.  She went limp, her eyes fluttering open.  She was shocked at her behavior.  A professional woman like her, throwing caution and propriety to the wind, pleasuring herself mere inches from a sleeping patient!  She nearly laughed at her own audacity.  But it was also sweet.  She felt close to Jerry, though he might never know what she had just done.

She checked his temperature and was comforted that he seemed to be in a deep, normal slumber.  After cleaning herself up in the bathroom, she wrapped up in a blanket and fell asleep in the chair.

For some reason, Lynn knew when she awoke the next morning that Jerry would be gone.  And she was right.  He had many things to do before he could give her the love she so wanted.  But she would wait.  It might mean many nights like the one she’d just spent, but she could do it.