Forever: Beautiful Series, book two

by Anderson, Lilliana

  I’m standing between him and the door, and he edges closer, pinning me between him and the cool wood. He reaches up and wraps his hand around my jaw so his thumb is on one cheek, and his fingers are on the other. He tilts my head up and meets my eyes.

  We say nothing. His are searching, challenging, but I hold his gaze and keep my breath steady. After what seems like an age, he crushes his mouth against mine, kissing me fiercely as if he’s trying to somehow absorb me.

  One hand snakes around my waist and pulls me tightly against him, while the other grabs tufts of my hair at the base of my skull and tugs. It hurts. Still holding me tightly, he walks us over to the dining room table then spins me around so he’s behind me. His kisses and heavy breathing move along my jaw and neck, turn into firm sucks, then painful bites.

  I close my eyes tightly and breathe. I just need to keep calm.

  He pulls my shirt over my head and drops it on the floor, his hands curling around me to knead at my breasts. There is nothing gentle about what he is doing, but even though I’m afraid, I’m walking that fine line between wanting to stay and wanting to run.

  I suck my breath involuntarily when he pinches my nipple, the pain more than I’m comfortable with. He removes his hands from my front and pushes me forward so I’m bent over the table, my hot breath making fog circles on the smooth surface.

  Still, he hasn’t said a word. It’s strange because he normally talks a lot when we’re together, always telling me how much he wants me and what he’s about to do. The silence and not knowing what he’s planning is driving me crazy, but I’m not sure if it’s in a good way. I think the best word to describe how I feel right now is unsure.

  He pulls my pants roughly down my legs, and I obligingly step out, making sure I stay glued to the tabletop. Something tells me he wants me a very specific way, and I’m not willing to risk having his desire turned against me in rage. Compliance is key in these situations.

  He moves my feet apart with a push of his and for a few moments, he does nothing. I hear him crouching down, then he places his hands at the very top of my thighs and pushes my legs wider.

  It’s the first time I can hear something from him; the deep breathing of arousal. A familiar throbbing starts between my legs as I wait, surprised when the anticipation begins to excite me.

  I feel his breath first, and then his tongue as he starts at my clit and drags his tongue back, all the way to my anus, where he spends a bit of time rimming my hole. I’m shocked that it feels amazing, panting as I struggle to maintain focus.

  He lets out a moan as his fingers reach up, and he teases the entrance of my now dripping pussy. He slides back and forwards before pushing them inside me, pulsing them in and out while he continues to work my arse with his tongue.

  I’m close to exploding when he pulls both his fingers and his mouth away from me and stands. I hear him removing his pants and the sound of crinkling foil. I whimper. Then it sounds as though he’s putting on a condom, which isn’t something he normally does.

  When he steps between my legs, he reaches between them with his hand and inserts his fingers into my depths, dragging them out and up over my anus, where he circles me with a little pressure, probing at my tightness.

  I hold my breath, feeling fairly certain about what he wants to do. I’m not sure I want this.

  He presses his cock against my other hole, and I let out an unhappy whimper. It’s completely unintentional, and I wish to god it hadn’t escaped my lips. I hear him blow a short, hollow, laugh out his nose, and I breathe a sigh of relief when he pushes himself inside my pussy instead.

  The relief floods through my body and makes the whole experience feel so much more intense. I moan as he plunges into my depths, over and over again. My fingers squeak against the table as I press against it, griping my insides tight around him. I’m so close to coming.

  When he suddenly pulls out, I whimper again. I want to come. I was almost there.

  He runs his hand between my legs, probing my insides with his fingers before moving again towards my back entrance. He presses his finger lightly at my opening, testing my resistance.

  “Relax,” he whispers. The first sound of his voice throughout this whole encounter echoes throughout the quiet of the house. I let out another breath as he repeats himself. “Relax.”

  He pushes his finger inside, and the sensation is a mixture of pleasure and discomfort. I do my best to stay calm and relax as he said. I can imagine that fighting it will cause the discomfort to win, and I don’t want that right now.

  Removing his finger, he presses his tip up against it, parting my skin with his hands as he starts to push in. “I’m going slow. Breathe, Paige. Relax.”

  I’m trying. I’m trying so hard to relax, but this doesn’t feel so great. Slowly, he pushes himself, in and out, farther and farther each time until suddenly, the discomfort turns into an overwhelming sense of pleasure.

  “Ohhhhh!” I moan as he moves back and forth. My core is throbbing, threatening to explode at any moment.

  “Play with yourself,” he commands in a whisper.

  I feel too frozen to move right now. I'm scared that the moment I do, this won’t feel so good anymore.

  “Play with yourself,” he demands, his voice an explosion.

  I force myself to move my arm, adjusting myself slightly so I can get my hand between my legs. The moment I touch myself, I’m catapulted into a state of pure ecstasy that causes me to explode, a burst of warm liquid surprises me as it flows out over my hand.

  I call out my orgasm and go to remove my hand, but Jeff stops me.

  “Keep going. I want to feel your fingers inside you,” he growls. His voice ragged and thick with his own need to come.

  I push my fingers inside myself as he continues to move inside me. I can actually feel him there through the thin wall between the two holes.

  Finally, he pushes in hard and deep and holds himself there, a strangled moan escaping his throat as I feel him pulse inside me. His fingers dig painfully into my hips as he holds me there, frozen, with my own hand halfway inside me.

  When he pulls out, I’m not sure if I should move from the table, but I do remove my hand and wait to see what he’s going to do next. As he walks towards the garbage bin and removes the condom, I push myself up and turn to face him.

  “Go and take a shower,” he orders, his voice completely devoid of feeling as he walks over to the sink and washes his hands. “I’ve got some more calls to make.”

  Tears prick at the backs of my eyes as I nod quickly before I pick up my things, taking them with me to the bathroom. Once the shower is on, and I’m standing under the warm stream, I lean my head up against the tiles and cry. I’m confused and don’t know how to feel about what just happened. Even though I came, I don’t think I ever want to repeat that sexual experience again.

  Fourteen

  Jeff is on edge. I don’t know if it’s me, or if it’s because of that guy he beat up at the club the other night. But he’s not his usual self. I miss his usual self.

  His phone keeps ringing, and he leaves the room to talk quietly to whoever’s on the other end. He’s snappy and moody, and I feel like I’m in the way. Just like I was at home.

  I try to be available for him whenever he needs me, which is a lot. But we seem to have lost that deep sexual connection we once shared. Our love making has turned into fucking, and I don’t know how to get it back.

  Tonight we’re going to an alcohol-free band night. It’s for under 18s, so Jeff will need to wait for me outside. We’ve done this before, it’s a fairly easy place to sell. It’s held at a scout hall, and the crowd gets so big that it spills outside and surrounds the premises.

  It shuts down at midnight, so we arrive around nine. It’s dark and teenagers are starting to get bored without alcohol giving them a buzz.

  There’s security milling about, and it’s their job to find and remove anyone found to be drinking or concealing alcohol. Taking an E is the perfe
ct solution to a fun night without alcohol. So when I arrive, they’re more than ready to part with their money.

  After doing a lap through the premises as well as one outside, word is getting around that I’m here and ecstasy is available. This is normally when I get going, because teenagers can’t always be trusted to be discreet.

  I’m on my way out to Jeff, when I get pulled into the bathroom and bailed up by a few giggly girls who want to buy some tabs. Problem is, they want more than they can afford, and I’m not willing to bargain with them.

  “I can’t help you then,” I say, turning around, ready to walk away. Instead of finding an empty doorway, I’m faced with the instantly recognisable blue shirt of a police officer.

  His hands are on his hips as he looks down at me disapprovingly. “You wouldn’t be the girl with wild curly brown hair and light coloured eyes whose supplying kids with happy pills are you?”

  I shake my head from side to side quickly and try to step around him. “No officer. There must be someone else,” I say as confidently as I can.

  He steps to block my path. “Well then, you won’t mind showing me what’s in your pockets then.”

  “I don’t have to do that.”

  “And I don’t have to move if I don’t want to. I can arrest you on suspicion alone.”

  We stand staring at each other for a few moments. My mind is racing as I try to think of a way to get out of this.

  “Fine,” I say eventually. “I’ll empty my pockets.”

  A crowd has formed outside the door of the bathroom, and the girls who wanted to buy from me are trapped behind me. I fake reaching into my pocket before kicking out at his knee. Hard.

  He stumbles back, and I take the opportunity to run past him. When I reach the door, I slam right into the female officer who was accompanying him and send her sprawling on the floor. Her head snaps back, and even over the din of the music, I can hear the loud thud.

  I pause momentarily, worried I’ve severely hurt her. But my need to escape is greater, and I take off. The crowd instantly parts but a hand shoots out and grabs me by the hair. I kick back, connecting with the shin of the first officer.

  “Stop kicking me,” he demands, his voice strained as he yanks on my hair.

  In the small space I have to move, I don’t have many options. I twist my body towards him, feeling as though my hair is coming out by the roots, and bring my knee up, landing the blow square in his crotch.

  He makes a sound like ooff as his face turns red, his eyes bug out and water forms around their edges. He releases my hair.

  I run.

  The crowd is thick, but I make it through. I push and bump against bodies who know I’m running, and bodies who have no idea and are still dancing and laughing with their friends.

  When I make it outside, I make a beeline for the car, walking as fast as I can without calling any extra attention to myself by running.

  “We have to leave,” I tell Jeff the moment I get into the car.

  Without questioning me, he starts the engine, and we drive off at a normal speed with me crouched down low and Jeff carefully watching our surrounds.

  “What happened?”

  “Cops.”

  “Did they see you?”

  “Yeah. One grabbed me, and I accidentally knocked the other one out.”

  “Shit, Paige. How could you be so careless?”

  “I wasn’t. I was on my way out.”

  He slams the steering wheel. “Fuck!”

  “I’m sorry!”

  “Did they get the stash? The money?”

  “No.” I slide up into my seat. “I still have everything.”

  “Fucking stay down.”

  I slide back onto the floor. “I’m sorry,” I tell him again, trying my best to stay strong and not start crying.

  “Just… Just stay down and be quiet. I need to make sure we’ve gotten out of this.”

  For the next hour, we drive around aimlessly while Jeff listens to the police scanner and makes sure we aren’t being followed by anyone. Once he feels safe, he heads home.

  My legs are cramping, and my back is aching from being curled up in such a small space for so long. I’m in pain, and I feel like a complete failure. I wish I could close my eyes and have the world swallow me whole.

  When we pull up outside the house, Jeff cuts the engine and sits there for a moment bouncing his leg in agitation.

  “Get out,” he demands.

  I struggle out of the cramped space and make my way out of the car. Jeff is standing at the front door, glaring at me while he waits for me to go inside.

  The moment he shuts the door, he locks it tight and makes sure all the drapes are pulled. “Sit,” he tells me, pointing at the chairs surrounding the dining room table. I do as he says and watch him, biting my lip in worry as he paces the room in front of me, running his hands over his head and not saying a word.

  Finally, he pauses in front of me, his hands on his hips and his face set in anger.

  “I’m sorry!” I blurt out. I don’t know what else to say right now.

  He readjusts his stance slightly, and before I know what’s happening, light explodes behind my eyes as he strikes me across the face with the back of his hand.

  The force is enough to tip me off the chair. Sprawled on the floor, I clutch at my face protectively as pain radiates heat through my skin.

  “Get up,” he growls. In a panic, I do as he says and climb back onto the chair in front of him, my whole body shaking in fear as I do. “Now tell me exactly what happened.”

  I take a deep breath and relay everything that went on in the bathroom and how I escaped the cop. I can’t meet his eyes while I’m talking. I’m too afraid of what I’ll see there.

  When I finish, he’s still standing in front of me, his hands on his hips as he shakes his head from side to side.

  “What are the rules at those things, Paige?”

  “Sell until they know I’m there and leave before I’m found out,” I rattle off immediately.

  “You stayed too long,” he accuses me.

  “I got held up,” I protest in a whisper.

  He grabs my face roughly in his hand and squeezes my cheeks together. “You don’t get held up,” he yells into my face, pushing my head back forcefully as he takes a step away from me.

  “I’m sorry!” I cry out pleadingly. Tears burn hot in my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall.

  “So am I, Paige. I’m fucking sorry too. The cops know what you look like. I can’t take you out anymore. You’re no good to me. Do you understand that? You’re fucking no good.”

  “Jeff, no! It was only one cop. Just one. The other one didn’t even get the chance to see me.”

  “And you knocked her out, then kneed him in the fucking balls. He’s not likely to forget you anytime soon.”

  “We can change my hair. I can still sell, I promise you. It won’t ever happen again.”

  “Just. Just get out.”

  “What?”

  “Get the fuck out, Paige.”

  My mouth falls open as I realise he’s serious.

  “No. Please don’t do this to me. I can still sell. Just give me another chance,” I beg.

  “Get. Out.” he growls through clenched teeth.

  “Please, Jeff. I…I love you!”

  Suddenly he starts laughing. “You love me? Oh my god. You love me? Really? Wow. You are far more stupid than I gave you credit for.”

  “Why are you laughing?” I screech.

  “Because, Paige, you’re just a little girl, and not a very bright one at that. Actually, I’m stunned you didn’t get found out sooner than this. And it’s been good. It’s been fun. You’ve got a sweet cunt and a tight little arse. I’ve enjoyed you. But if you can’t sell. You’re a liability, and I don’t do charity.”

  I just sit there staring at him, shaking my head from side to side in disbelief.

  Suddenly he holds his finger up, and starts walking backwards, away from me.
“You know what. You made me smile just now, so let me help you out.” He disappears into the bedroom and returns with a back pack, stuffing handfuls of my clothing inside it and shoves it at my chest. “Now get out.”

  “No please, we’re good together. Don’t do this, Jeff. Where will I go?”

  “I don’t care. I really couldn’t care less.”

  He pushes me roughly towards the door, and I fight against it the whole way. I’m petrified of being on my own again. I drop my bag as we reach the door and put my arms and legs out against the frame so he can’t push me through as I beg him not to throw me out.

  But he’s stronger than me and pins my arms and legs to my body, then physically throws me on the front lawn outside. I land with a thud that knocks the air painfully from my chest. In the time it takes to get back on my feet, my bag has come sailing out and he’s locked the door.

  “Shit,” I say to myself, slapping and kicking my heel on the damp grass beneath me. “Fuck.” I get up to my knees and pick up my bag, pushing everything inside it so I can at least close the zip.

  I can’t believe this just happened. I can’t believe someone I cared so much about could do this to me. We’ve shared our lives together. How can this be over so suddenly? How is this happening again?

  My mind does its usual thing, and reminds me that my parents were supposed to love me, and they threw me out for a lot less than this. Why wouldn’t Jeff do the same thing? I’m a liability.

  I stand and look at the house that had come to be my home, breathing heavily as I fight to keep my emotions in check.

  I want to go to the door and ask him to reconsider. But I don’t. I don’t bother fighting this. I don’t bother trying to get back in. I’ve been through this all before. Instead, I hitch my bag up on my shoulder and start walking, trying my best to hold it together so I can figure out what to do.

  I reach my hand into my pocket and pull out the wad of cash I have from the night of selling and count it. There’s over a thousand dollars.

  “Well, at least I have a decent amount of cash this time,” I say to myself, pushing it back inside my pocket. I also have a decent amount of ecstasy tablets left too, so at least I have a bit of happiness left in my life. Even if it’s only chemical.