Blues Buster: This Bed is Getting Crowded

© Lisa Shambrook

© Lisa Shambrook

“Put your phone away, baby…” his voice lingered, as did his fingers trailing across the small of her back. She wriggled, leaning on her elbow, fingernails tapping rhythmically on the screen.

He gazed at the smooth incline of her neck, lit by the stark blue glow of her mobile phone. His eyes followed her shoulder, down the curve of her back, tapering beneath the sheets shrouding the swell of her hip. Her bare skin enticed him and he raised his hand, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, and he stroked his fingers down towards her waist. She wriggled again, allowing a giggle to slip out of her mouth, as he descended, his hand running further beneath the sheet.

He felt her muscles tense as she drew her legs up and away, revoking consent, and despite heat rising as his fingers touched soft lace, he withdrew his touch.

His face burned and hurt simmered as he adjusted himself and slid his hands behind his head. He stared and the blue light of betrayal danced on the ceiling.

He tilted his head and glared at her silhouette. She pushed a lock of hair away from her face, and it shone like a halo before it settled across the pillow beside him. His eyes roamed taking in the nape of her neck and her spine, which moved gently as her fingers spoke on the device cradled out of sight. He swallowed hard, as he imagined kissing the dimples on her lower back, and fought the urge to reach out once more.

The impulse vanished as her tinkling laugh echoed softly and her reply tangoed across her phone’s screen. “So funny…” she murmured, and he felt his eyes sting.

“C’mon, honey, it’s late…” he tried to sound nonchalant.

“In a moment…I won’t be long…”

“That’s what you said twenty minutes ago.” He regretted his gruff tone as soon as he’d spoken.

“Okay,” irritation tinged her voice, “we’ll just be a minute…”

He couldn’t stifle the sigh that whispered like the autumn wind through the chill of the bedroom.

“Got – to – go…” she mumbled, fingers sweeping deftly across the screen.

The room plunged into darkness and the phone was asleep.  The bed complained as she turned and relaxed, and as his eyes got used to the gloom he gazed at her prone form. She lay on her back, her belly flat and…she turned towards him, her hair flopping across her face. She brushed it away and shuffled closer. She nuzzled into his chest, resting her shoulder in his armpit and kissed his neck. When he didn’t respond, she lifted onto her elbow and kissed his cheek. Her fragrance felled him, infusing his brain with desire. She leaned across, brushing her body against his, and tears filled his eyes. Her leg moved over his thigh and her kisses rained down. He whispered, softly, inaudibly.

“Sorry, honey?” she asked, lifting her head away from his chest.

“This ain’t love…” he whispered again.

She paused for a moment then moved her fingers down his chest, circling and smoothing, sweeping across his taut skin. As she got lower he moaned, fire igniting, and she laughed a soft, tinkling laugh. He pushed her away. “Am I me, or him?” he asked huskily. “Who are you with, babe?”

Her hesitation, the slightest of pauses, before she hungrily lowered her head to kiss him was enough.   

He slid out of bed grabbing his jeans. He pulled them on and snatched his leather jacket. She watched as he strode across the room and picked up her phone. “See if that keeps you satisfied tonight…” he taunted as he tossed it to her.

Minutes later a rumble echoed as he straddled his bike and sped off into the lonely night.


(627 Words)

We’re back with the Mid-Week Blues-Buster over at The Tsuruoka Files…and the music prompt is Alejandro Escovedo’s ‘This Bed is getting Crowded’…take a listen. Then go and read all the stories! 

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