WHEN DR. BRENTON MADE his final departure, my time for pretension was at an end. “Well,” I breathed out. I straightened the raggedy hospital blanket that I surely wouldn’t miss when I died—I wouldn’t miss the crippling pain very much, either. Perhaps, I’d go to hell where I would be naked and forced to be draped in this very blanket.
I reached across to the night table and pressed the nurse call button as I stared pensively out of my window. My phone vibrated and nearly fell off the table. The name of the text sender read: Victor Mejía.
“Not today, Mr. Mejía. I have something in store for you. You will not rule my life or my family’s life any—”
“Mrs. Givens?” Janet rushed in, looking alerted.
“Close the door, lovely,” I commanded with one of my warmest smiles.
“Is it time?” Janet asked with concern.
“Did you get what I needed from Mr. Sanderson?”
Closing the door and patting her pocket, she nodded to me. “He was really nice…didn’t seem like the criminal type. He even bought me lunch.”
Excellent. My old friend, and once my lover, Charlie Sanderson, came through. Yes, my ordeal with Mr. Mejía was most certainly at an end. “I’m quite sure he was. Those are the types you should worry about the most.”
“He asked how you were.” She turned her toes inward and slouched her shoulders. “He seemed pretty…torn up about you. Was he family?”
“Stand up straight, my dear. You’re much too gorgeous to have the posture of a hunchback.”
“Yes, Mrs. Givens,” she said sheepishly and straightened her horrid pose.
“He was most certainly not family,” I recoiled. “He was my lover for nearly a decade. An excellent one, too.” Clasping my collarbone, I recalled one of our many torrid nights together. “My God, the man could carry on throughout the night. My wilting flower cried for weeks. It was worth every moment.”
She coughed, and I was certain I made her blush underneath her gorgeous mocha skin-tone. The young woman had excellent genes. Radiant skin. Simply radiant. “Mrs. Givens…did you”—she shook her head and looked mildly embarrassed—“have a relationship with Charlie while you were married?”
“My lovely, I’m a woman with needs. If you thought I was an innocent, lovable, crazy old bat, I’m so sorry to disappoint you.”
“I still think you’re very lovable.” She beamed. “I’m going to…miss you.”
I nodded while I continued to wish for the most fruitless of things.
A debacle I wished died along with my husband, would continue past my death, despite my best efforts. It brought me immeasurable comfort to know that Diouana would be protected by two very strong gentleman. One at her side, and another in the background. If Eric faltered, someone else would take his place.
My bastard of a husband placed my poor child in danger and cursed our lives to be indebted to a man I loathed—Victor Mejía. The most deplorable human being I’d ever had the displeasure of meeting. He would receive the brunt of his karma in the end. My darling daughter and the dark knights sent to protect her would see to it.
“Janet, before you inject me, I need you to retrieve something from the night table.”
“Of course, Mrs. Givens. Anything for you.” She looked guiltily to the ground. I was quite sure she didn’t want to do what needed to be done, and felt slightly guilty about doing it. Such a kind, kind heart the young woman had. She, too, would be perfect for what I needed her to do.
I examined her closely as she followed my directions.
She flipped the neatly folded loose leaf paper in the air with a look of puzzlement fixed upon her face.
“Janet…if Dr. Brenton ever does a single thing to harm Diouana, and if ever his actions speak of a man who doesn’t care for my daughter, give her the letter.”
“Are you sure, Mrs. Givens? I just—I think they’ll fall madly in love.”
“I’m not afraid of my daughter falling in love. Dr. Brenton? Of that, I am very afraid.” I glanced after Dr. Brenton’s trail as I became consumed with a poignant thought. “On second thought, it may very well work to my advantage.”
“Mrs. Givens?”
“Don’t worry your beautiful eyes over it, Janet. Can you promise me that if Dr. Brenton ever does my daughter harm, you will give her that letter? Never read it. It’s for her and her alone.”
“I understand, Mrs. Givens.” The bed enveloped me as it never had before. “When you’re done with the doodad, tape it underneath my bedside table drawer. Dr. Brenton will have need of it soon. Make sure you help Nikki convince him to change his mind.”
She nodded sullenly and prepared to inject the needle in my PICC line.
I was so very exhausted. How I’d wished I’d done so many things differently. I found peace in the knowledge that my daughter would be my very last word.
I MISSED THE comfort of my mother’s home. It was a place I had abandoned to stay with Eric in an environment that isolated me further, by being located in a very small village half an hour away from my mother’s home. I was emotionally tied to my mother’s home, and I couldn’t allow someone else to live there like Eric wanted. Nor could I give up her home in Aspen.
With my need to be away from people, I should’ve loved a place in seclusion. It might’ve been what Eric thought, too. Self-imposed isolation feels different when it’s imposed by someone else.
I needed to be inside my mother’s house again; I was beginning to feel things I wish I didn’t. The comfort of a place shrouded with memories of her might help me. It was alive with her spirit. It still smelled like her. It still felt like she was there at times.
I hadn’t wrapped my head around one fact: Nine months to the day, my mother passed away. The misery over her death—I thought I’d overcome—bubbled underneath the surface of my skin, quietly clawing and digging its way back to the surface.
I LOOKED OUT THE window of our NYC hotel. The people resembled insects, crawling the city, making my body itch with a burning ache. I wasn’t sure how much more I could take. I hated it here.
The hotel door latched, announcing Eric’s arrival. My attention remained glued to the view outside the floor-to-ceiling windows. The dusky sky was illuminated by the variant traffic lights below, obscuring the stars.
Eric’s steps lay heavily against the carpet as he neared me from the other side of the room. Slipping behind me, he held me in his strong arms. Closing my eyes, I sank back against his hard chest. Sighing deeply in comfort, I allowed my senses to fill themselves with him. The way he held me—the way he always held me—felt as though he would always do what he promised; he’d never let me go.
Opening my eyes, I caught the sight of his bright, light brown eyes staring at my reflection in the window.
He leaned down to meet my height and expelled a stream of cool air down my neck. Flipping my dense black hair to the opposite shoulder, he placed a gentle kiss on the nape of my neck. Parting my lips for air, I let myself become easily seduced into craving an unhealthy and destructive addiction. It wasn’t as if it was anything new; I was cursed to want things that consumed, destroyed, and depleted me.
“I should’ve dragged you kicking and screaming.” His husky, dark, and sensuous voice reverberated down my spine. “You’re lucky you weren’t feeling well, and I was feeling charitable.”
“Why did you come back? I thought you were going to the rehearsal dinner.”
He pressed down on my pelvic bone through the material of my black dress. Lazily, he thumbed the fabric at the hem. Teasing me, he collected the taffeta material, inching it higher up my thighs until it bunched up at my hips. His fingertips grazed across the skin on my inner thigh, tempting a part of me to quiver for his touch. “Not going without you.”
“I can’t—”
He spun me around to face him and pressed his index finger against my lips, halting my protest. His strong, angular jaw twitched as his teeth clenched together. He gazed at me with an expression that commande
d silence and compliance. “You can and you will.” With a wink and a wide, mischievous grin, he added, “I have a plan.”
Sighing, I pushed down on his forearms, hoping he’d release me. It was pointless. The man’s brawny body was built for intimidation and fucking me senseless. My mental will and physical strength were no match for him; they never were.
“Your plans never work out very well for anyone besides you,” I said on the verge of panicking. I knew he was going to make go with him somehow, and I was not happy about it. “Things always end one of two ways: someone either dies, or gets shit on. Sometimes both.”
He slanted his eyes at me, admonishing me, but the corner of his mouth turned up into a skewed smile.
The smile told me everything I assumed was true. I groaned and dipped my chin down to regard the invisible space between us.
“Nik, look at me.” He lifted my chin over his closed fist. “For the next thirty minutes, you’re going to be in the dark, and if you want to see anything while you’re in the dark…this is what I want you to see. This is what I want you to remember.” He placed my hand to the side of his face, and slowly drew it down to his plump lips to kiss my fingertips. “Close those pretty eyes, my twisted angel. No matter what, keep them closed.”
Dropping my hands, I wrung them. The fear of the unknown in a city whose population suffocated me, pushed me deeper into dread. “I don’t know if I can do that. Nosy nature…remember?”
“Fuck, do I ever,” he muttered. He withdrew his hands from me and began to loosen the black tie from around his neck.
“E-Eric…no.” I shook my head profusely
“Do you still trust me?”
“Even though you don’t deserve it, yes.” It wasn’t the best decision to trust him. He had such an effective way of disguising the truth by shielding it behind pleasure and things I didn’t know I needed. I knew that very well. I placed my trust in him, because I had no other option. I had no one else in my life but Eric. I didn’t care before, but my mother left a sizable hole in my life. Eric became the perfect person to occupy the space. In fact, he overfilled it.
Slipping the tie from around his neck, he placed it over my eyes. He turned me again and tightened it at the back of my head. His body heat disappeared for a moment before coming back to me. He spun me again, placing my earbuds in my ears.
I couldn’t hear anything outside of the music on my playlist blasting in my eardrums.
Tugging my right hand around his body, he laid it firmly against what I assumed—from the feel and shape—to be his chest. Stepping closer, I rested my cheek against the space on his back. Taking my other hand, he placed it on his ribcage, directly over his heart. As I pressed the heel of my palm against his chest, the rhythm of his heart-rate increased. His hold on my right hand firmed. He began to move slowly, assuredly.
I fumbled for a few steps until I began to adapt to his pace, matching his movements with my own. We moved in sync. Heavily concentrating to keep up with his pace, I forget about our destination and what I’d have to endure on the way there.
We stopped for a moment and my balance was thrown off when something moved. Apprehensive, I held him tighter. He matched my grip, silently reassuring me.
As we advanced, the tepid spring wind whirled around my legs. When he ceased movement again, I couldn’t help myself; my left hand started to roam his body. I felt down past his hardened torso underneath his button-up, lowering my hand to his belt. I grazed my fingertips against the bulge there. I brought my fingers together, tightening them to stroke his cock.
The hold he had on my right hand turned into a death grip, but he did nothing to deter me from my mission. The pace of his heart thumped loudly, vibrating through my hand.
Feeling daring, I stroked his erection faster. He immediately grabbed my left hand away from him, hurting me with the intensity of his grasp. When he let go, his body heat escaped me.
Before I fell into a panic, I was suddenly airborne and fell against his form. I threw my hands up to hold him, concerned I would fall. Before I could, smooth leather cradled me. The abrupt slam of a metal door and the slow movement indicated I was in a car.
Grazing his fingertips against my neck, he removed the earbuds with such an abruptness, the inner rim of my ears burned.
His jagged breath tickled my ear. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Nik?”
“Seducing you,” I whispered, trying to reach out for him.
He abruptly grabbed my hands and pinned them behind my back.
“Or at least trying to,” I added breathlessly. “It never works. Is it working?”
“You walk into a room…and it works. You don’t have to try, Nik. You never did.”
As I grinned, I tipped my head forward. While keeping my hands behind me with one hand, he gently brushed his generous lips against my mouth. My bottom lip detached from my teeth, wanting more, but his lips were out of my reach.
He released his hold on my hands and gripped my hips, yanking me down while forcing my legs to gap open and surround him. The skirt portion of my dress slipped up to my hips. Pushing forward, he placed his body on top of mine, ensuring his erection pressed against my pelvis.
“Do you want my cock inside your wet”—his breath danced against my right ear, forcing tremors from my body—“tight”—he rolled his hips, rubbing his erection against my clit—“cunt that badly, baby?”
The fast-building desire between my thighs became an excruciating ache. I tried to remove my blindfold, but he stopped my hands and placed them behind my back again. I felt his fingers rub against the lace fabric of my panties.
“You really are ready for my gift, baby. You’re soaking wet.” He slipped his fingers around the edge of my panties and shoved them aside. His fingers moved against my slippery sex until he found my moist clit.
Moaning, I thrust my hips upward to give him better access. He pressed forward, constraining my movement. The stroke of his fingers lessened, ensuring I barely felt him against the place I most wanted him to be.
“I’m not going to fuck you…because I didn’t exactly like the way you asked.” His lips brushed against the curve of my chin. “I need several pleases before you let me hear that dirty mouth. Did you forget how this goes? Beg for me, baby.”
My body shuddered with desire. I was an addict waiting for a fix when I’d received a mind-blowing hit five hours ago. The need to get high was so strong. I had to have it again—feel him inside me again. “Please, please fuck me. I don’t care where we are. Please fuck me and make me come.”
His touch lightened across my panties until I could barely feel him.
I groaned my discontent. “Please, please fuck me, Eric. I need that huge cock inside my pussy right now. I need it. I’m so fucking wet for you. I. Want. You.”
“Your mouth is so fucking dirty, baby,” he said breathily. His other hand grabbed the crotch of my panties and yanked. The lace was ripped apart, falling away from my body. His fingers slid inside of me, methodically pumping in and out. I was so wet, I could hear the sloshing sounds of my sex as it drenched his fingers.
He withdrew to circle my throbbing nub with his wet fingertips. Pressing his fingers firmly against my clit, he rotated them into a defined circular pattern over the most sensitive part of my nerve center. He slid his fingers inside of me again, thrashing in and out hard and fast, curling them up toward my elusive zone until he drove me crazy.
Writhing around underneath him, I fell on the verge of a climax. My walls began to swell and contract around his fingers.
I bit my lip hard to keep quiet, but when another finger began to circle my clit, I couldn’t.
“I couldn’t give two shits if the driver hears you scream. Let me hear my name, baby. Scream it out for me.”
I chanted his name through my whimpers.
His fingers moved harder, faster. “I can hear how fucking wet you are, but I can’t hear you, Nik,” he bellowed.
“Fuck, Eric!” The cool b
urn hit my spine and my fingernails dug into the leather seat; I came with a violent fury. The physical strain relented, trickling fluid out of my core to the crease of my behind. I screamed his name repeatedly as the fire tore me apart and left me weak.
He abruptly released me and pushed my legs closed. The moisture seeped down between my thighs, remaining there. The softness of his lips against the outer rim of my ear served to worsen my tremors.
“Fuck me,” I nearly begged.
“Nik,” he purred, “I’ll fuck you silly when this whole thing is over, but not right now.” He removed his tie from over my eyes, revealing his taunting, lip-biting grin.
Feeling beyond pissed, I narrowed my eyes at him. He winked back at me with an even cockier smile and relaxed back in his seat while erotically sucking my juices from his fingers.
“Cock tease,” I mumbled, hugging myself.
“You’re going to regret that fucking mouth of yours later, baby,” he said, warning me of things to come.
Sinking back into the leather seat of the car, I had to stop myself from pouting. Though it’s night, the city’s copious amounts of light poured into the back of the car. I glanced at the privacy window of the town car and shook my head.
He wanted to torture me…again. He wanted to ensure I couldn’t think of anything else other than the thought of him fucking me while I had to endure the rehearsal dinner.
IT WAS A private, small, narrow room with brick red walls, and dim lighting. The space managed to look like an odd contradiction of warm and cold simultaneously. At a table of twenty people, I could feel all eyes on me, watching me intently.
Eric and I sat closest to Casper and his partner Timothy. They were the reason we made a weekend trip to the Upper Eastside of Manhattan. Casper and Timothy were to be married tomorrow in what I assumed would be a very lavish affair—it was evidenced by the invitation that came in a black leather box adorned with two Swarovski crystal bows.
Casper was supposed to be Eric’s best friend, but I couldn’t believe they were genuinely friends. With the way Eric worked, I surmised he kept Casper around to help him with the charade to appear normal to the general public. Eric claimed he never hid in plain sight, and I used to believe him.
The Starkest Truth (A Breaking Insanity Novel Book 2) Page 2
