Free Frayed Rope by Harlow Stone Page A

showed up yesterday with their tits overflowing out of their halter-tops, ass cheeks on display for all to see. It must’ve been a warm welcome home for him.
     
    The silver lining for me was that most of the women seemed to be permanently attached to a few of the other men hanging around, and other than a ginger haired looking hooker who followed him around like a lost puppy, I didn’t witness any dry humping or naked body parts.
     
    Not that I should care.
     
    I tell myself that this must be some kind of attraction by proximity. That’s the only thing I can think to call it. Ryder is the first man that has entered my life in the past year that I’ve been attracted to and now he’s got some kind of hold on me.
     
    I hate to admit it intrigues me because my libido has been virtually nonexistent for what feels like a century. It also frightens me because all I can think is ‘why him?’
     
    Perhaps it’s because not only is he attractive, but he also seems kind and incredibly intelligent. It’s not often a woman finds all those qualities in the same man.
     
    I assess my left leg and note the tenderness from knee to ankle. This is what you get when you’re sexually frustrated, therefore you try to burn off your pent up energy by pushing yourself too hard. Combine that with a lack of sleep and it’s a recipe for disaster.
     
    I ease up from the ground so I can walk the rest of the way to the house. I barely make it into a standing position before I give up.
     
    “Aaaarrrgghhhh, fuck!”
     
    I wail as the pain shoots through my leg. I sit my ass back down to rest for a minute. I’m not far. I can see Ryder’s house from where I’m sitting. I’ll rest for a little while and then crawl my ass back if I have to.
     
    I lie back on the sand and close my eyes, taking in a few deep breaths while stretching out my leg. It feels like if I push it out all the way, a rubber band will snap.  I stare up at the sky for a while, watching the dark clouds slowly move toward my location on the beach before I hear footsteps. Then a familiar shadow looms overhead.
     
    “You alright?”
     
    Ryder’s deep voice washes over me. Shit. It’s eight in the morning on a quiet Sunday. He’s not in jogging gear so that means he probably heard me wail when I tried to stand up.
     
    “Fucking peachy, neighbor,” I say in my most sarcastic voice.
     
    Surely he notices the expression of pain on my face, and my arms around my leg. He moves in front of me and bends down to a squat.
     
    He begins reaching out for my bum leg. I’m going to boot him with my good one if he touches it.
     
    “What are you doing?”
     
    “I spent some time in the service as a medic.”
     
    Of course he fucking did. My pissy mood assumes he also fixes random broken down cars on the freeway, rescues wildlife on the weekends and probably volunteers his spare time at his Nan’s nursing home.
     
    Bastard.
     
    “I won’t tell you I’m a doctor that was a long time ago. But let me see if I can help you out.”
     
    He goes to remove my shoe. I wonder why until I notice the cankle that’s developed. My leg is swelling so fast I now have proof as to why my ankle sock feels so tight.
     
    Strong looking hands remove my shoe and move toward my calf.
     
    “Neighbor, you touch that fucking leg you’re going to know what the other one feels like planted up your ass.” I hiss through clenched teeth.
     
    It fucking hurts. Not a lot hurts me anymore but Jesus Christ this doesn’t tickle. He removes his hat and scrubs a hand down his face before settling those angry blacks on me.
     
    “Tell you what, Elle. You have two options. Fucking sit here, or let me help you back to your house. It’s going to storm soon and I’m looking forward to spending the day on my couch, in peace after all the company that came here over the weekend. So, you want to sit here in a storm? Or do you want me to get you home?”
     
    He already knows the answer, so do I. I’m