Bomber's Moon Page 6

It was almost too much of an effort to stumble up stairs, the warmth of the range and its adjoining chair positively inviting. But he knew if he didn’t lie down in a proper manner, on a bed, he’d be too stiff to function. That was not in any way beneficial to him or the farm.

  ****

  After Archie had left in a hurry, Chrissie dressed—sans drawers, which were still in Archie’s pocket—and found the pushbike where he’d said it would be. With great care she cycled back to The Grange in the dark. The chain was loose, the brakes nonexistent, and one pedal had snapped in half. But she reasoned it was better than walking. A glow in the distance behind her indicated where the fire-ravaged rick was, and she offered a brief prayer of thanks there were no enemy bombers about. It was like a beacon guiding them to that area.

  By the time she reached The Grange, Chrissie had a numb bum from the uncomfortable seat, was sure a spring had gone where no spring ever should, and was tired, hungry, and irritable. She propped the bike up against the wall, smothered the desire to kick it—after all she’d probably break her toes if she did— and entered the house by the kitchen door.

  Tom Hillman was seated at the kitchen table, a cup of tea in his hand and the Northamptonshire Evening Telegraph propped up against the milk jug. He looked up and smiled. “Just in time...a few minutes to,” he remarked, as he poured out a second cup of tea and pushed it across the table to her. “There’s a report in here about those lads that were rescued from the lifeboats after The Duchess of Athol was sunk. Old Johnny Pearson, him that worked in Tanners, well, his nipper was one of them saved, spent a good long while in that boat, he did.” He turned back to the paper, his lips moved silently as he read the article to himself. “Bloody awful it was. Poor youngsters not much past their mam’s milk, all perished.”

  Chrissie took a mouthful of tea and then burst into tears.

  “What on earth?” he asked. “No need to go on, duck. It happens. There’s a war on.” He laughed, seemingly at his own wit.

  Damn tears and I can’t bloody stop. She sniffed, found a hankie in her pocket and blew her nose. “Sorry.”

  Tom rose from his chair and patted her back, his movements clumsy. “There, there, love. What’s wrong?” He looked at her through half-shut eyes. “He, er, didn’t, er, do anything, er...” His voice trailed off, obviously embarrassed.

  “What? Oh no.” Unfortunately and more’s the pity. She thought rapidly. “But he got called out to a hayrick fire, and oh, Tom.” Chrissie drew on every womanly wile she had ever learned and a few she hadn’t realized she knew. “I’m so worried for him. Because with his gammy leg and all, and well... it’s dangerous.” She looked at Tom from under her eyelashes and blinked as rapidly as she could, sniffing once more in what she hoped was a ladylike manner. She knew Tom was a sucker for a woman in tears and although she hadn’t started to cry on purpose, they wouldn’t do her any harm in her campaign to win Tom ‘round to her way of thinking. She thought about the poor boys on the ship that went down, Archie’s scars and how he might have got them, felt some tears gather and let them fall. “How will I know he’s safe?”

  “Why, I mean.” He coughed. “Is there something between you two or well...”

  “Yes, actually.” In for a penny. “We’ve sort of got an understanding. We were all but engaged a couple of years ago, parents all for it, but well, with the war and all, that...” Better not to say Archie turned turtle and ran scared. “And I just want to know he’s all right.” She looked beseechingly at Tom. “He’s… He’s special.”

  “Well, humph.” He cleared his throat. “And your parents, they know this?”

  “Well, of course they do. Didn’t they say so when you telephoned to ask if it was all right for me to go out with him?” A good guess, she thought as Tom colored up. Archie may have swung his Baronet title in front of Chalky, but Tom was made of sterner stuff and took his job as guardian seriously.

  “Yes, but...” He paused, and Chrissie could all but see his thoughts as he nodded. “All right, then. Yes, your Dad was del—I mean happy about it.”

  I bet he was. He’s rubbing his hands together, thinking he has me and Merle sorted now.

  “I’ll tell you what, duck,” Tom said briskly. “Drink your tea, and then pop back and make sure he gets back home safe. But no hanging around then. Get him to see you back here after. And it’s still work in the morning.”

  “Thanks, Tom.” Chrissie kissed the embarrassed-looking man on his cheek. She gulped down the mug of tea before turning and heading back the way she’d come.

  ****

  Archie didn’t bother with a lamp or a candle as he mounted the stairs, staggered into his bedroom—he was bone weary—and half-fell onto the mattress. But it wasn’t horse hair and goose feathers beneath him. It was something warm, curvy, human, and...

  “Oomph.”

  Oomph? He moved his hand and found hair. Not the coarse horse hair like the bits that escaped through the mattress cover, but soft, downy, short, and damp hair. Archie used his fingers to search further and hit on a squishy bosom and a hard nipple. He bent his head and caught the distinctive scent of talc. “Chrissie?”

  She pushed. “Who else would it be in your bed at this time of the night? Ouch Archie, you’re squashing me!”

  Archie moved. It was unfortunate it brought him in closer contact with more of her. Her body provoked him, stimulating his nerve ends. He was aroused, and his body showed it. Pity he was too damn tired to follow through. “Er, Chrissie?” He lifted his hand off her breast. It was much too arousing for someone as tired as he was. “What on earth are you doing here?”

  “Being squished by you,” she replied tartly. “Shove over a bit.”

  “My bed.” He pointed out, mild-mannered. “My blankets, my...ouch!” Chrissie had pinched him—hard.

  “And your bruises if you don’t watch it. God, Archie, you reek of smoke.”

  “So would you if you’d been fighting a fire and just had cold water to wash in,” he grumbled as he gave into temptation and put his hand back onto her breast and circled her nipple with his index finger. “Pretend it’s Bonfire Night.”

  ****

  She bit back a giggle. Archie in this mood was irresistible. “And did you manage to put the fire out?” Chrissie asked in an innocent voice. She spoiled the ‘oh so sweet’ act by sniggering. “And how? I have heard that firemen pe… ouch, oh, no, stop…” She began to laugh helplessly as Archie ticked her. “Feinites,” she used her childhood word for stop, “fei…or it’ll be me with the wherewithal to put the fire out, and it’s dark on the way to the outhouse.”

  Archie grunted. “Spoilsport. Do you mean this fire?” He ground his cock against her and groaned. “Sh… Lord, love if I get any harder I’ll explode.”

  “I sort of thought that was what you wanted?” Chrissie said and gasped as, impossible though it seemed, his cock strengthened even more.

  “Yes,” he murmured, and used his mouth to follow the path of his fingers, then suckled each nipple in turn. “I want to explode in you. I don’t want to put out this though. No, no, no. Not yet. Mind you, I’m looking forward to trying.” He left her swollen nipple and trailed nips and kisses down her body, over her stomach and circled her navel with his tongue. “Now do I feast lower or save that for later?”

  Lower? My oh my…

  Chrissie wriggled, and his body responded to her movements. He moved, smiled and shook his head. “Hmm, later I think. Some things are best savored.” He retraced his trail of caresses up her body.

  She was on fire. Every nerve stood on end and hurt in a spine tingling, delicious way. Her skin was so tight her veins stood out, blue on her pale skin. Her pussy throbbed and her nipples were so hard it was a wonder they didn’t snap.

  If he experienced even half of what she did, Chrissie decided she was on the right track. She stretched her arms above her head and noticed how her taut body tightened even more. Archie stared at her breasts and groaned.

  “That, my love, is
so erotic. You stretched out for me, like that is…” His voice trailed off. “I need you.”

  Chrissie smiled in what she hoped wasn’t the look of someone in pain but hot and sultry and come hither instead. She definitely intended to get him as hot and bothered as she was. It had been worth all the trouble to come back and wait.

  “Are you trying to rev my engine, love?”

  Chrissie wriggled a bit more and his cock rubbed against her pussy. If only she knew how to move it where she thought it would be of most use. “Am I managing?”

  “Oh yes.” He laved her nipple until she thought she might faint with the overload of sensations.

  Then Chrissie stopped thinking all together and just felt. The rasp of his tongue, the warmth of his breath, the calluses on his hands as he sent her arousal soaring. She concentrated on those sensations and let them fill her mind and her body. She was content to rest, entwined with Archie, without the need to worry. To be next to him was enough for now. At first as she pedaled furiously back toward the farm she worried he might think her forward or loose, and she almost turned back. Then common sense took over. They’d almost done the deed earlier so why was now any different? She’d carried on. Now she was so glad she had. It might be out of character, but since meeting up with Archie again, she wasn’t sure what her character was.

  “Mmm.” Archie was busy as his mouth and fingers mapped her body. “I’m just checking that you’re real,” he reassured her and used his clever hands to cover every bit of her skin in turn. “Oh, yes, now this,” one nipple was firmly tweaked, “and this,” a squeeze of one taut buttock followed. “Oh, and I’m very definite I have to do this.” He unerringly homed in between her legs and began to massage that tiny nub of pleasure. “Yes, all real. Thank goodness this isn’t just a wet dream.”

  “It feels pretty wet to me,” retorted Chrissie as his cock stirred against her belly, and little drops of moisture touched her with a gentle caress. She turned so she was face-to-face with him, and he kissed her nose.

  “You do know this will be my first time, don’t you, Archie?” she asked, serious now. “I mean, I know we got up to quite a bit before, well, you know, we split up. But there has never ever been anyone other than you for me, .so... if I couldn’t have you, then there was nothing doing. And,” she shrugged, “not really much else to say.”

  Be gentle? No, she wanted to know he wanted her as much as she wanted him. Be rough? No, not that either. Instinctively, she knew Archie wouldn’t be rough.

  “I want to be your equal,” she said at last. “I want us to make love, not you make love to me and me lie here like a pilchard. Us. Together.”

  In answer, he kissed her on the lips, slipping his tongue swift and deft into her mouth, making erotic swirls. Chrissie moaned at the new sensations she felt. She wanted more. That strange quiver in her belly and pussy was getting stronger by the second.

  “Arch...ohh, sh...good. More, please, do...” Her voice trailed off as she lost the ability to speak coherently. She gave little sob… “more …”

  ****

  Archie grew even harder, if that were possible. The way he felt after her admission was almost indescribable. If he had anything to say about it, he wouldn’t just be her first. He was going to be her first, her last, and her all in between as well. However, for now Archie was determined Chrissie never regret and never forget, her first time. He stood in one sudden movement, shivering in the predawn chill and checked the blackout curtains were firmly in place. “I’m going to light the lamp, I want to see you and you to see me,” he explained, as he suited action to words, waited until a soft glow filled the room, and moved back to the bed. He could tell Chrissie never took her eyes off him as he walked with his uneven gait across the room and back toward her again. On cue, his injured arm throbbed, and every bit of shrapnel that had entered it seemed still to be there and dancing up and down. His gammy leg buckled for a moment and Archie swore under his breath as he wobbled and grabbed hold of the bedpost to regain his balance.

  Did it bother her? Put her off him? After all not everyone would want to be bedded by or wedded to a cripple.

  He climbed onto the high mattress and swung Chrissie around until she was lying on top of him. Her breath feathered over his cheek and he held on to her as hard as he could without making a bruise. God, please don’t let my broken body put her off.

  “Archie?” She seemed unsure.

  His heart sank and the pain in his limbs doubled, as if to mock him.

  “Look if it’s sore or something we can just cuddle.” Chrissie put her arm around him, and kissed his cheek. “Honestly it’ll be okay, we’ve lots of time to do all the rest. I don’t want you to be hurting.” She nuzzled his neck. “Well, not like that.”

  “I’ll be a hell of a lot more sore if that’s all we do,” Archie said frankly and chuckled as she drew in a deep breath. “Much better this way, for both of us. Hold still and let me show you.”

  Chrissie lifted her head and started to slide backwards, away from him. He tugged her closer and nipped her behind.

  She squeaked with surprise, and went rigid.

  “Chrissie, watch my lips. She looked at his face and stroked her tongue around her mouth. Shit, how that made him wet. Do that to my cock please. Soon.

  “Good girl. I said, let me do the work.” He kissed her left nipple, which he had maneuvered to within easy reach of his mouth and she sighed with pleasure, relaxed and closed her eyes. Archie shifted his attention to her other nipple and aligned them so her pussy rested above his rock-hard erection.

  Perfect.

  With his free hand, he pressed as firm as possible without hurting her on her buttocks, bringing her even tighter to him. As her wetness transferred to him, he groaned.

  “Archie? Am I hurting you?” Chrissie sounded worried again. “I don’t know what to do. Tell me if I am.”

  “No, sweetheart, not at all,” he assured her, not wholly truthful. If he didn’t get his cock inside her soon, he would hurt. A great deal. Maybe now was the time to show her just how it felt to ride something other than a horse or a bike.

  Chrissie smiled. And wriggled.

  My God, I bloody love her. Stupid parents. Stupid me. Why the hell did I let them fuck it all up for us? But he knew why. No way was he prepared to live his life through his parents—or hers. Now he just had to make her realize they were meant to be together—or as together as this sodding war allowed. Cool it. Take it slowly. But it was difficult, with her eyes on him and her body unconsciously demanding everything and anything. He looked at the luscious figure stretched over him. “Lesson one,” he took her hand and guided it to his cock, “this is how you make me feel. Hard, throbbing, aching in an exciting way. Tell me how it feels to you. What do you feel, Chrissie?”

  ****

  Chrissie held him with awe. He was so big and so hard. She gulped, her stomach rolling with nerves. Was this what she wanted after all? She knew when she made love for the first time, it had to be with Archie, but.... She rolled his shaft in her fingers. She loved the way he responded, feeling the velvety skin move and dance. It would be fine, she reassured herself, and Archie would know what to do and how to do it. Take his time and make sure she enjoyed herself as much as he did. With as little pressure as she could manage, she kissed the dewy end of his penis and looked up at him. Surely if he wanted more or whatever he’d tell her and show her how?

  The lamplight made the room seem like a warm cocoon, its flickering glow sending shadows over the furniture, the mantle, and the clock that sat on it. The clock. Oh, dear. Now the lamp was lit, she could see around the room for the first time since she had crept in and snuggled down. And now it was obvious she had dozed while she waited.

  “Blimey, Archie, it’s past five o’clock. I’ll have to go.” Without placing another kiss on any part of his body, Chrissie scrambled out of bed and began putting her clothes on. Every fiber of her being wanted to ignore time and responsibility and jump back into his arms
. She ached in so many places she had no idea how she could move as she did and her pussy was so wet, she worried she’d leave a puddle on the floor. But, needs must…“I must have fallen asleep. I have to be back before Tom gets up, or he’ll have a fit. I was only supposed to come and check you were all right.”

  Archie struggled to sit up. “But I’m not all right,” he said plaintively. “I hurt. Look.” He pulled the covers back to show her his rigid cock. “I need a little help here.”

  Chrissie almost laughed at that. “Help yourself,” she advised. “I’ll have to.”

  Archie looked pained. “Chrissie.” She turned at the urgent tone in his voice. “Can we—will you? I mean—oh bugger it. Chrissie, we can’t just stop like this. I don’t know about you, but I’m so bloody aroused, it’s painful. If I tapped my dick on anything remotely hard, it’d snap in two. The one thing that’ll help is me being inside you. You. No one else. We’ve got to stop meeting—or leaving—like this.” He rose from the bed. “Ah, well, and don’t say there’s a war on, so make do and mend. Do you want me to drive you back? I’ve got a little bit of petrol allowance left.” He was pulling on his trousers as he spoke.

  Chrissie took hold of his hand and stopped him. “Archie, you’re buggered,” she said and made sure her bluntness masked her anxiety. He looked like death warmed up. “Go back to bed and try and get some sleep. I’m going to cycle.” She smiled, mischievous and happy, her heart beating twice as fast as it need be. “Then I’ve got a good excuse to come back. As long as you want me to, that is?”

  “No fear about that,” Archie replied, vehemence uppermost in his tone. “And don’t ogle me like that, or there will be no chance of getting back before Tom gets up.” Chrissie eyed him up as he took his trousers off again and climbed into bed. “Come tonight. In more ways than one! Please?” His eyebrows rose in query.

  “I will if I can,” Chrissie replied seriously, but spoiled it by giggling. “Now I’m going.” She blew him a kiss and hurried downstairs, wincing at the thought of that damned pushbike resting where she’d much prefer Archie’s hands.