nixsight

She’s lying naked here in front of me, stretched out, supine, sated. Her perfect body flexed and ready for action.

Eight months ago – My partner murdered, six days till retirement, and bullets from my gun in him. I was an everyman, framed and on the run, caught up in events beyond my control. I met her, and we seemed a transparently unlikely match, a beaten down cynic on a bad road to nowhere good, and the flighty wise-ass chick with her own agenda and a great silhouette. I was too driven to finding answers to even notice her sideways glances.

Eight months ago – I learned to run yelling down corridors, fire licking at my heels. Learned to trip hell-for-leather away from danger, two guns aimed behind me, firing blindly. I learned that I was too old for this shit, but sucked it up, and faced “this shit” down all the same. And I learned that when they took everything from me, what they didn’t realise was that that left me with nothing left to lose.

Eight months ago – It turned out that if you’re rolling down an uphill gunfight with a spunky and unpredictable lady, you’re more than likely going to land up face-to-face, up-close-and-intimate, and there’s going to be a tension that’s from more than hot lead.

Eight months ago – I chased down my enemy, but misfooted a jump, and only just caught hold of a ledge. Slipped back to an arms length, but prevailed. I had him dead-to-rights, but then there she was, the independent, capable girl, suddenly a captive in the hands of a forgotten henchman. I thought I’d told her to stay in the car. But nobody tells her what to do. Suddenly, infuriated, frustrated, hot-blooded, I realised I had something left to lose after all.

Eight months ago – I regained the upper hand… and even now, I couldn’t tell you how. There was confusion. It’s possible that she rescued me (how she tells it), but it’s more likely I found hidden reserves of strength and cunning. The gun now to my enemy’s head, ready to pull the trigger, but she told me that that would make me as bad as him, so I relented. He fucked the sentiment by having another last-ditch try, and fucked the building at the same time.

Eight months ago, she and I, a trail of dead behind us. Stumbling from the wreckage, framed by building flames. Getting clear just in time for the big bang… and the first kiss.

Right now, my tongue sliding; along her calf, her inner thigh, her navel, nipple and neck; her body coiling behind it like fire curling along a lit trail of gasoline. My teeth on her earlobe, making her flicker a little, away from me and towards me at the same time, like she’s dodging a bullet, but going in for the kill.

“You’re my action movie love interest.” I whisper, looking for her trigger.

They thought we’d never last; never even make it to the sequel. But we’re eight months down. And every night is an adventure.