by Raven Scott
No matter what anyone said, there was no redemption from not having toenails. It was like not having eyebrows. Once seen, it could never be ignored.
Snatching my dress off the floor, I stepped into the opening for my head to pull. Dresses were the easier clothing to get on— and pants, of course— and I shook my head viciously to free my hair. Staring at some distant point on the tile that only I could see, I silently debated just walking out. Jacob promised to help me with my American phone, but did I really want to be here right now?
Gently, Jacob wrapped his arms around me from behind, and my eyelids fluttered closed as he kissed my neck feather light. Leaning back against his chest, I covered his hands with mine to huff a sigh. Putting my dress back on changed everything— the way I felt— the way he felt against me— the way he touched me. Suddenly, he wasn’t so tentative, and I wasn’t so tense as my heart rate dropped to a more stable level.
“I’m sorry. I wish I was comfortable with it, but I’m not. You understand, Joci— there’s no forcing that.” His murmur in my ear eased some of the tension thrumming through me shoulders, and I nodded mutely. Ducking his face into my neck, he inhaled a sharp breath short from regret and the weight of his inability.
“… Truly, this is going better than I thought. So, you have no problem to be sorry for, Jacob.” Straight teeth grazed my pulse point, and I bit my bottom lip as Jacob’s hand glided down my front. Gasping when he cupped my mound, I flexed my palm over his. Experimentally, he gathered up my skirt, waiting for even the slightest hesitation on my side. Tilting my head, my lips tingled as his hovered just above them, barely touching. This time, there was no desperation, no frenzy in his soft kiss, and I hiccupped a shallow breath.
“Is this wrong?” Mumbling so quietly, Jacob’s stubble tickled my chin when I shook my head. His probing fingers found my clit easily, and emotion roiled in my chest as I spread my legs a little wider. Circling my sensitive nub with one hand, the other groped my breast outside my dress. Fog descended on my mind, growing thicker when he captured my lips more firmly.
Reaching behind me to rub the crotch of his pants, I opened my mouth to moan in invitation. My abdomen tightened when he spread my folds, his tongue dancing with mine as the atmosphere settled heavily on us. Shuffling to pin me against the counter, Jacob reached into my dress to palm my breasts. His bulge radiated heat through his work pants, and I unfastened the zipper as he thrust into my hand.
Hot, harsh pants dried my cheek when Jacob pulled back, and I twisted to pump his cock. Lifting me onto the counter, he worked his hand between my legs to slide two fingers between my folds. Tangling my free hand in his shirt, I drew his mouth to mine as the fear and hesitation dissolved under the heat of us, together. My core pulsed to the erratic, rapid beat of my heart, and he slipped his digits past my entrance.
Clenching around them, I sucked in a loud breath, squeezing his cock as Jacob gasped into my mouth. His breath in my lungs flooded my system, and he held the back of my head to deepen the kiss. Tingles skittered just under my skin as he thrust into my hand, his head brushing my thigh.
My juices eased his fingers, their curling and twisting so slow but profound, and Jacob’s grunt clogged my throat when I swiped my thumb over his tip. Tiny tears leaked from my eyes when he exited me, and I flopped my head back to wheeze for air. The atmosphere was so thick that I could see it through my bleary gaze and stinging lids. Parting my folds side, the cold sent a shiver up my spine, and his free hand found its way to my lower back to scoot me off the counter.
I ground my teeth as Jacob poised himself at my entrance, and he braced his hand on the cabinet overhead to blow out a hard breath through flared nostrils. He disappeared from the very edge of my vision, and my heart nearly stopped as anticipation rampaged through me.
Hard, smooth flesh stretched my inner walls when Jacob inched into my channel. The instant, insanely potent euphoria that surged up from my core slammed into my lungs, and I moaned softly. He felt so big, so hard, so wonderful, and my thighs trembled as they struggled to cling to his waist.
“Fuck— fuck…” Jacob’s guttural slur rose goosebumps under my dress, and my scars quivered as tension coiled in my abdomen. His hips pressed against mine before he breathed again, his inhale sucking the heat from my neck as colorful spots assaulted my eyes.
“Don’t stop—” My native tongue slipped out, and Jacob panted furiously against my neck. I couldn’t even think enough to make English words, but, as always, he knew. He knew what I wanted, and I gripped the edge of the counter to roll my hips against his eagerly. “More, Jacob… do it— do it…!”
Pulling back, Jacob left me shivering with need, and I hiccupped a breath when he thrust with a low grunt. His cock stretched me walls, the pleasure firing off to overwhelm my mind as I drew closer and closer. Each labored breath, each twitch of his cheek or lips, each tiny, strained sound that graced my ears— I felt it all.
For the first time, I wasn’t scared of my dress riding up, of him pulling down the neckline to expose my breasts— of exposing myself. And that feeling was freedom. This moment was freedom, and not even Aleksander Makovich could give it to me.
Rolling my hips to the slow, savoring beat of his, my tears became dense as they dripped into my hair and ear. Undulating around him, the physical pleasure of him inside me disappeared. Jacob lifted his head, his lips trailing up my jaw to find mine and steal the stale breath lingering behind them. He wrapped his arms around me fully to turn us, leaning against the counter to thrust into my channel.
“Jacob— Jacob—” The roughness of his pants scraped my inner thighs, but the burn only added to the barrage of sensations that coiled in my belly. His tongue danced with mine, the taste of him coating the roof of my mouth and dripping down my throat. Holding his shirt in white-knuckle fists, I clamped down on his cock as rapture overwhelmed me. Mine was an implosion of my soul, the powerful waves surging through me lifting me up from the depths of despair that I was too used to.
“Fuck… yes-s— cum just like that, Joci.” Rasping his encouragement, Jacob tore his head back to pant as he growled deep in his chest. The reverberations rattled my bones and all the metal holding them together, and I whimpered pathetically. “Damn— damn… fuck…”
“Don’t stop—” Somehow, I managed to spout out some English, and Jacob shook his head hastily. “Please… please don’t stop…”
“Hey— hey— don’t cry.” My lower lip trembled violently, and Jacob reached to wipe my eyes and cup my cheek. He smiled that warm, beautiful smile that drew me to him so easily. “Come on. I’m gonna turn into a jerk if you cry.”
“… I wish I could hug you.” My confession widened Jacob’s eyes a little, but his smile never drooped. Instead, he straightened from against the counter to saunter towards his room with a promise sparkling in his eye.
20
Jacob
“You’re not hurting, right? How’s your shoulders?” Glancing up from Joci’s new, entirely English phone, I pursed my lips thinly as she shook her head. Sprawled out on my bed, she looked so fitting there— like she belonged. “I’m done with your phone. Do you want to call me on it?”
“I can’t message you.” Sitting up, she smiled guiltily, and I held out her phone in it’s shiny, metallic-flecked case. “I should’ve tried harder in class.”
“My number is the only on in there. You’ll be fine.” Joci snatched the device with a snooty look, and I sat back to hold myself on my arms. I was lucky my phone screen didn’t crack when I dropped mine on the tiled kitchen floor. To be honest, I’m lucky I didn’t pass out.
Not only was she tortured, but doctors left her that way? Russian doctors didn’t have a good reputation, but for fuck’s sake… fix Joci but not make her pretty? And what was that shit about half her fucking organs being taken out? Why? Was it some sort of screwed up preventative measure, or was she really torn from the inside out? If she was in such a bad condition, how did she hold out for so long?
<
br /> I had a feeling I knew the answer to that last question, but I simply shook my head viciously to clear my thoughts. Joci would probably never tell me specifics, and that was perfectly a-o-fucking-kay with me.
“You said your boss was covering your medical bills, right? Did you think taking all the metal out would help your pain?” The question rolled off my tongue heavily, just before my cell phone started to vibrate from an unknown caller. Reaching over to grab it off the nightstand, I tapped around to add Joci to my contacts as her questioning gaze rested on me. “America’s where everyone tries to go to be a doctor right? Come here, and it’ll look good back in Russia.”
“Oh-h… No. I can’t take them out. There’s no pain, really… if I take them out, there’s no holding anything together. My arms and fingers are worst.” That’s not how it works. I wanted to tell her that she’d probably healed a long time ago, but I kept my mouth shut. There was the entire possibility that Joci would be in pain if she took the pins and plates out, anyway. “Besides— they’re in my spine, and my ribs, and my legs— everywhere.”
“Seriously? What the fuck did that guy not break?” I fucked up— the punch to my gut hit me too late, and I scowled as Joci looked up from her phone completely. “Sorry… it’s just… It’s so infuriating.”
“He did not break me. And I can try with the scars… just not the bones.” My mouth dried at that, but Joci smiled with understanding glimmering in her eyes. “I know how it is. Trust me— it’s okay that you’re disgusting. I am, too. Five years don’t change that.”
“There’s a difference between being disgusted with you and just needing some time to process the fact that a trained professional left you like that.” Was there really, though? When I saw her naked, my damned near first reaction was disgust. Nothing could’ve prepared me for the reality of Joci’s body. This kind of shit would be illegal in the States!
As much as it physically sickened me to acknowledge it, I didn’t want to look at Joci naked. I was caught so off-guard, so ill-equipped, that her body wasn’t something my mind could process.
“Jacob—” Blinking hard, I inhaled deeply through my nose as Joci crawled the few feet between us to sit across from me. Her expression drenched in understanding, and I hated it. “It’s okay. Yeah? I see it in you— you don’t like it, and you don’t like that you don’t like it.”
“Okay. Okay— you’re right, Joci. I don’t like it, and I resent myself for fucking you, but it was the best lay of my life— and you know, I feel like a real asshole right now.” Silence met my short ramble, and I just felt even worse realizing I’d talked too fast for her to follow. Running both my hands through my hair, I held my head between my forearms to exhale a heavy breath. “I feel too much to make sense.”
“… Do you want me to leave?”
“Don’t ask me that.” Groaning roughly, I flopped sideways onto the bed to cover my face with both my arms. “I don’t know. I don’t want you to leave, but I’m too far up my own ass to be good company.”
“Uh— okay…” She sounded as confused as I felt, and my scowl intensified. “You can walk me home. I can leave without leaving? Sorta.”
“I’m a piece of shit. Yeah— I’ll walk you home, Joci.” I sat up despite how heavy my body was, and Joci patting my shoulder gently. There was no good way about this situation, but she was right— walking her home solved my two problems. The cold would get my head out of my ass, maybe, and I would be alone, eventually. Most importantly, I could fool myself into pretending I wasn’t a dick because she’d suggested leaving, not me.
“Do you know something— you can message me, but I can’t read English.” Cocking my head, I watched Joci wiggle her phone suggestively. “You can say anything. I won’t know what it is.”
My brows rose at that, my gaze fixing on her brand-new smartphone. She had a point— my number was the only one in there, and she couldn’t read English. I’d fiddled with her settings so she couldn’t get notifications unless a number was on her contacts, too. It wouldn’t even vibrate. It’d just be ignored. Of course, it’d just be ignored, anyway.
“You’re sure you don’t mind?” Man, this was not how I expected this night to go when Joci proposed it this afternoon. If I thought things would get so out of control… well, I don’t know what I would’ve done, but— Who cares about ‘if’s when I’m in this fucked up situation because of my own stupidity? Ducking her head in a nod, Joci’s smile widened to roil my stomach.
“It’s okay. Really.” I nodded curtly, simply giving in as I threw my legs over the side of the bed. Both of us were clothed, sans shoes, but even those weren’t far. “I had a nice time.”
“I did, too. I had a great time until my brain started working again.” My grumble earned me a little giggle, and Joci grabbed my hand to squeeze. “I was an idiot. I’m sorry.”
“I knew it’d be bad. Like I said— it wasn’t how bad I thought. You’re not just dumb by yourself.” Slinging my arm around her back, I reached up through her mess of hair to knead her scalp. Her face relaxed, and she sat next to me to rest of her cheek on my shoulder. “If you want to ignore me for some time, that’s okay. I remember when I woke up. I didn’t want to look at myself either.”
“This is just so fucked up.” I couldn’t get around this situation; there was no way to avoid the harsh truth. Either, I worked through this, or I couldn’t see Joci anymore. As much as I didn’t want that to be an option, it was— and that was what made me sick to my fucking stomach.
People that had scars got them from someone or something else. Even self-harm scars were a result of some outside force. But medical professionals are supposed to improve a person’s quality of life, not just take orders and money and ignore all else.
Palming Joci’s cheek, I closed my eyes and sighed, but it did nothing to ease the tightness in my chest or the ache gripping my heart.
21
Joci
“So… call me.” Jacob nodded but didn’t move, and I glanced over my shoulder into the hotel lobby. I didn’t want anyone coming down and seeing him; no doubt, Aleksander already knew everything about Jacob, but Ophelia and Sascha I wanted left in the dark. His eyes glistened with regret, but I felt nice and light. Humming softly, I reached to flick back my hair, and he moved for the first time since we paused in front the glass doors. Gathering up all the strands, he strained a smile as he stepped closer.
“I’ll make it up to you, Joci.” My lips quirked up at that, but I kept them tightly closed as Jacob let go of my hair. Ducking to kiss me, his mouth staved away the cold that nipped at my chin. “I’ll call you.”
There was a determination in his tone that slithered into my ears and wrapped thickly around my brain, and I hummed again. Stepping back, I stuffed my hands into my pockets to feel both my phones— one Russian, and one American. Reluctantly, he turned to start down the street, his shoulders curling and gloom hanging over him that had nothing to do with the late night.
Shuffling slowly myself into the hotel, I stepped through the sliding glass doors only to pause as the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. Ophelia came rushing over, a huge smile stretching her lips, but it gradually fell when she neared. Sucking my teeth ugly, I walked past her towards the elevator.
“M— Joci—” Pausing to glance at her, I arched a brow even though it did nothing to help how supremely unapproachable I must’ve looked. She hesitated, and I clenched my jaw at the uncertainty that flashed across her face. “Is everything alright?”
Her English is so much better than mine. Ophelia didn’t have any nasty, gross scars. No missing pieces. There was nothing she couldn’t share with Sascha. She had her own money, and a job, and her parents might be dead but— fuck them, right? She was better off without them.
“I’m fine. Why? Are you going somewhere?” Turning to her to lick the roof of my mouth, I threw my thumb over my shoulder towards the elevators. Now, acting like nothing was wrong with me was effortless, and Ophelia’s expression ease
d. “I was going up. It’s late now.”
“Yeah, we were. Have you been out all evening?” Nodding, I rocked back on my heels as Ophelia deflated a little. “So, you probably don’t want to come with us, then? We’re going out to eat.”
“Um— I could go. I’m hungry, yeah. Where are we going?” She perked up immediately, and my stomach growled as her eyes brightened. “What?”
“Well, if you’re going to stay in America, I want to spend time with you, Joci. We won’t see each other after this.” My eyes widened in surprise, and she blushed as she reached to touch my arm over my jacket. Goosebumps washed my skin, my mouth drying when it opened only to expel air. Simply nodding dumbly, I clamped my lips shut under furrowed brows.
“Okay. I have to change.” Once again, I turned to head towards the elevator, and Ophelia didn’t try to stop me. Before Aleksander invited me to America, I thought we, she and I, could’ve been friends. Maybe, even confidants in a business where those kinds of relationships were dangerous.
Now, though, I couldn’t be Ophelia’s friend, and there was no point in trying to keep the relationship alive. In 22 days, I couldn’t exist to her, and she couldn’t exist to me. My life depended on my cutting all ties to anything remotely Russia, and Ophelia was the strongest one by far.
Jabbing the elevator button, I stared at the golden circle for the second it took the doors to slide open. Blinking hard, a breath surged into my nose when I saw Aleksander Makovich leaning on the reflective wall. Reluctance seeped into my bones, and he gestured me in without looking up from his phone.
