by M. S. Parker
"I...yes." Hopeful longing swelled inside, and I caught my breath .
"I won't." Instead, he eased back and caught my hands, bringing them up to his chest. "Undress me. Now ."
As my hands fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, he adjusted his stance, his legs spread wide to bracket mine. The heat and strength of his thighs, the way he caged me in with his hands on either side of my shoulders brought a brief moment of panic. But before it could take root, I freed the last button on his shirt and he lowered his hands. "Take it off. Shirt and jacket ."
Dragging my eyes up, I met his, staring at him as I pushed the jacket off his shoulders, followed by his shirt. He caught them and tossed them over the small chair sitting in front of the secretary-style desk that sat by my front door .
"Unzip my pants ."
I gulped, but reached down .
"Are you too shy to look?" Jake asked, dipping his head to nuzzle my neck. "I can't do anything but look at you. You're so fucking sexy ."
"I..." I didn't know how to respond to that, and there was no reason to be shy. I'd been naked in front of him, underneath him, on top of him and had sat naked in front of a computer screen while he told me to do wicked, dirty things to myself .
Sucking in a breath and bracing myself, I looked down. His cock was a hard bulge against the snug-fitting front of his tuxedo pants. I don't know where I found the courage – maybe it wasn't even courage but sheer desire – but something drove me to reach out and mold my hand against him .
Jake made a noise I'd never heard before, and while need gripped and shook me, he covered my hand with his own, thrusting his cock into my grip .
"You feel how fucking hard I am?" he rasped as he reached up and hauled my head closer. He licked my lips then thrust his tongue between them. The inside of my mouth received the same treatment my lips had enjoyed, and I groaned, shuddering as he continued to rock against my hand the same way he would have if he'd been driving into my pussy .
The image had a wave of desire washing over me, and my knees went weak .
Jake seemed to understand, and he abruptly stopped, wrenching my hand away at the same time he stopped kissing me .
I whimpered, reaching for him .
"No." He touched my mouth. "This isn't how I want you to come ."
The blunt, bald statement left me panting. "Let me finish undressing you ."
But he didn't return to me, standing a few feet away as he unzipped his trousers and stripped them away. He paused only long enough to pull something from the pocket. I glanced away, feeling awkward without understanding why .
He dropped the condom on the floor by my feet, an action that made no sense until he went to his knees, his hands closing over the waistband of my leggings .
"I want my mouth on you," he said roughly. "I want to taste your pussy and feel you come against my mouth. Will you let me ?"
He nuzzled my belly as he dragged the material down one slow inch .
Heat suffused my face as he looked up at me .
"I...um ..."
"I'm clean. I get tested every month. But if you don't want me to ..."
"No. I...um. It's...it's okay." That awkwardness was back, but only because I was so unpracticed with this. Sexual warriors probably didn't feel so awkward talking about basic stuff .
I was no sexual warrior .
I was barely getting my training wheels off .
A slow smile, full of promise, curved Jake's mouth and he leaned in, dragging the leggings down another inch, then another. "You're so hot for me, I can smell it, Michelle." His lips grazed the smooth skin just above my pubis, and I shuddered .
Here, this close to the door, the light was dim, barely enough to gild his shoulders as he rubbed his lips back and forth over my skin, but I had no doubt he was still studying me. His lips slid over my skin and I sensed his pause, felt it when he discovered the difference .
But he said nothing, simply easing lower and closing his mouth over my clitoris .
I hadn't put on any panties after my bath, and now that he had the leggings down to my mid-thighs, there was nothing between him and me .
He pressed a line of kisses to my naval as he dragged the leggings down to my knees, leaving them tangled there. "Michelle ..."
His voice was a ragged noise, one that had my heart hitching up at the sound. His head dipped in lower as he smoothed his palms back up, hands going to knead my buttocks .
And his mouth closed around my clitoris .
I couldn't breathe .
He scraped the hard bud with his teeth, his tongue stabbing before he stopped and nuzzled the neat patch of curls framing my sex .
I had waxed earlier, something I had only done a few times before. "What do we have here?" he murmured, lifting his head to meet my eyes .
During that last Skype session – that crazy, intense session – we had pretended not to know each other. I'd been getting ready to call a friend but had mistakenly called him. I'd worn nothing but a skimpy shirt and panties, and a call that had started out as an innocent misdial turned into a sensual game of Truth of Dare .
He'd dared me to show him what I looked like under the clothes. Dared me to show him the color of my nipples, the color of the hair between my thighs, whether or not I shaved .
I'd been so incredibly hot by the time he dared me to masturbate in front of him, I'd almost begged him to come over .
Now, as he slid his fingers through the newly groomed curls, he gave me a wicked smile. "I guess you decided to change things up ."
He leaned in, pressed his mouth to me .
I blushed so hard, it was a miracle I didn't pass out from the sudden spate of lightheadedness. He licked and nuzzled skin recently made bare, murmuring against me. It took me a moment to understand his words though .
"This is hotter than hell, sugar...but you're hot no matter what. You do you." He caught my clit between his teeth again, tugged. "I don't care ."
Then he went back to doing me .
As he licked, nuzzled, and bit, I knew then and there that as long as we were together, I'd continue to do this. His mouth felt entirely too good against flesh made newly bare .
Jake stiffened his tongue and passed it through the curls, opening me from top to bottom. I cried out and reached for him, but he caught my wrists, pinning them against my hips .
"Ride my mouth, Michelle," he said. "Just ride it...fuck yourself on my tongue ."
The words were so hot, so naked and raw, I all but lost it. Without thinking, I did as he said, rocking against his mouth, moving with frenzied need against his teeth, tongue, lips, as he moaned and growled and licked .
One last scrape of his teeth against my clitoris and I lost it .
But I didn't even have time to come back down .
Jake spun me around, bent me over with my hands braced on the door. I heard the foil tear, and then he was inside me, thick and hard and deep .
"Tell me you want me, Michelle," he said as he thrust in deep .
"I want you." I could barely think of anything else .
"Say it again...say my name," he demanded, his voice raw .
"Jake." It was a pulse in my blood. I couldn't think past anything else except that. Jake... "I want you... please !"
He rode me hard, fingers digging into my hips, my legs still trapped together because of the leggings around my knees. And he felt huge inside me. I cried out as my hands slid and slipped from the door, struggling to hold my position .
Jake remedied it by crowding me up closer until I was pinned between him and the wood. The cool surface against my front was a sharp contrast from the heat of him, pressed so solidly against my back .
I couldn't move now, and his thrusts went from
deep and hard to rapid upward thrusts that had him rubbing against me in a whole new way .
I exploded, coming so hard, it knocked the breath from me, and for a few seconds...I saw stars .
Fourteen
Michelle
T he dream hadn't come to me in quite a while .
I could go months without thinking about him now and just as long without having this nightmare .
But maybe I should have expected it. Jake's voice in my ear, "Tell me you want me ... "
It was too close an echo to the cold, ugly voice that had all but screamed in my ear years before. "Don't you go crying, you little whore. You want this...tell me you want this !"
The demand was followed by a hand on my throat, grasping my breast, the promise of violence or pain just a breath away .
"Tell me you want it ."
"You know you want this ."
"Dirty little whore ."
It was my uncle's voice. He'd been arrested, but a fuck-up on part of the cops had all but gotten the worst of the charges thrown out before we'd even had a chance to really begin. The bastard had ended up only serving a pathetic six months for what he'd done .
Sometimes, I saw him everywhere I looked, even though he lived hundreds of miles away .
But in that dream, he was right there .
"Tell me you want it, Michelle...you fancy little whore. Shaking your ass. Tell me you want it ."
Sobbing, I jerked away from big, mean hands, but he grabbed my face and shoved it back into the chair. "Be still. You're going to get what you've been asking for ."
Hands, tearing my clothes away .
"Don't, please!" I begged. But it wouldn't stop him. He'd done it before, and I'd messed up by letting him catch me alone in the pool house. "Please, please, please don't !"
He smashed into me, his bulk knocking the air from my lungs as he pressed me flat against the chaise. "Keep fighting, sweetie. It makes it better ."
I heard his zipper and fought harder, although that would just make it hurt more .
He rammed into me and it hurt, tearing me .
"Don't!"
"For fuck's sake, Michelle !"
That voice –
I sucked in a breath as hands grabbed my shoulders and shook me, forcing me awake. Panting, my belly trying to crawl its way up my throat, I sat there. "No...no...no ..."
"Michelle, sugar, it's me." A gentle hand touched my cheek. "Baby, it's Jake ."
Shuddering at the sound of his voice, I closed my eyes and sagged in relief. I ended up collapsing against the wide shelf of his shoulders, one arm supporting my weight, the other bracketing me around the waist, cradling me tight .
"It's okay," he murmured. "It's okay ."
I couldn't believe that. How could it be okay? But he kept saying it, stroking my back and murmuring to me until I nodded and let him tug my head back until he could look into my eyes .
I didn't have the strength to resist. I just sat there as his horror and rage filled eyes met mine .
Jake knew .
Out of all the things he could have figured out about me, he now knew this .
The humiliation of it was enough to lay me low .
* * *
H e didn't just pat me on the head and tuck me back into bed before leaving .
He would leave. I knew it .
I'd woken him up, screaming and fighting – it looked like I might have punched him. There was the faintest shadow of a bruise coming up on his left cheekbone. Why would he stay after all of that ?
But for now, he sat nearby, watching me with worried eyes .
"Are you okay?" he asked .
"I'm fine," I lied. "Maybe a little thirsty ."
"I'll get you some water." He practically jumped up to get it. Probably glad to have something to do, to get away from me .
I couldn't blame him. I wanted to get away from me, away from the echoes of the nightmare, away from the memories, away from myself. He was only gone a few seconds, back in the room almost immediately after he'd left, carrying a tall glass filled halfway .
"Here."
With a hand that shook, I accepted it .
Probably a good thing he hadn't filled it all the way, I guessed .
After draining half of it, I went to put it down on the table, but he took the glass and set it down himself. I just wanted the ground to open up, swallow me whole. This was embarrassing – humiliating. I couldn't even think of enough words to describe how awful this was .
It was bad enough just living with what had been done to me but having Jake see the after effects? It had been years. Years .
And still , the nightmares lingered .
And I was still suffering .
"Is there anything I can do?" Jake asked, his voice soft .
"I..." Flicking a look at him, I shook my head. "No ."
This was it. This was when he'd come up with a reason to leave. There was no reason to stay, really. I was okay – mostly. I'd dealt with the nightmares alone for years, ever since I'd gone off to college. Actually, before that. I'd learned how to hide them from my parents .
But...Jake didn't leave .
As I sat there in the bed, he slid back in next to me. I caught my breath as he pulled me into his arms, tucking me into his lap. "You're sure you're okay?" he murmured against my neck .
"I'm...good enough, okay? It was just a nightmare ."
"No, it wasn't." His voice was firm, and I closed my eyes, not wanting to hear the truth in those words, but I didn't argue with him .
The arms around me tightened and he pressed his face into my hair. "Who was it?" The question came out half-muffled, but I heard it loud and clear .
It was a demand mixed with a plea .
I'd heard that sort of urging before. Years ago, from my mother and father .
"Tell them, baby," Mom had said. "Honey, you have to tell the police. They can't fix this if you don't talk." They hadn't been able to fix it anyway, but just having them believe me had been a relief. All that time, he'd taunted me, made me think nobody would believe me, nobody would love me anymore if I told .
But Mom and Dad had believed me, and more, they'd stood with me. All throughout my uncle's arrest, his trial, even the miserably short sentence .
Mom's family no longer talked to us. I tried to tell myself I didn't care, but I lied. It did...hurt. Even though there had been a witness, even though I'd been covered in bruises from that last time ...
"Michelle!"
The half-frenzied sound of Jake's voice jerked me back to the present. Dazed, I looked up at him. "Can I get some more water ?"
A moment later, he pushed the glass into my hand and I drained it .
"Do you need more?" he asked softly .
"No." I gave him the glass back, then looked up at him, meeting his eyes. "It was my uncle – my mother's brother. Parker. I was fifteen ."
Taking a deep breath, I closed my hands into fists then slowly unclenched them. "He started...touching me a few months before that, then it...got worse." Rubbing the back of my hand over my mouth, I looked up. "Do you want to hear this ?"
"No. But I need you to tell me anyway," he said honestly. "That probably doesn't make sense ."
"Yeah." To my surprise, I was able to smile. "It makes more sense than you realize." So...I started to talk .
And once I was done talking, I started to cry .
He held me until I fell asleep .
Fifteen
Jake
H e started touching me.
It got worse .
Those words twisted in my head, mixed with all the other things she'd tol
d me, and I wanted to find the son of a bitch, twist him into a shape resembling a pretzel, then snap him into broken, bloody pieces .
Next to me, Michelle slept on, her face pressed against my chest. She'd cried so hard, it was like it was going to rip her into pieces. I was glad when the tears had finally faded away – not because they'd bothered me. Okay, they had, but not that way. It had hurt just because she'd been hurting. I hadn't known how to fix it. I didn't know what to do now .
The only thing that came to mind was that I needed to find that miserable bastard Parker and hurt him .
It helped that the fuck was in Chicago .
It didn't help that Chicago wasn't really that far away .
I needed to stop thinking about this, or I'd be tempted to book myself a ticket and hunt that bastard down .
He did six months in jail. It wasn't for...rape, she'd whispered the last word, like it hurt to even say it .
Six months. What he'd done left scars she still felt, and she couldn't even say the words without flinching, and he'd done a whopping six months. Bastard .
I must have made a noise because Michelle grumbled under her breath and wiggled around in the bed. Holding my breath, I waited, hoping I hadn't woken her up .
She needed the rest after that nightmare – and the storm that followed .
Once I knew she wasn't waking up, I slid out of the bed. The glass she'd used was still sitting on the table, so I picked it up and carried it out with me .
In the kitchen, I refilled it, slowly and methodically draining it as I stared at nothing. I didn't know how to handle...inaction. I couldn't just leave right now, buy a ticket, and go kill that son of a bitch .
I wanted to. She'd even given me his name, and I could find him. I could find him, I could hurt him. I could make him wish he'd never so much as looked at her .
Brooding, I put the glass down and covered my face with my hands .
"Jake?"
The sound of her voice, soft and sleepy, had me dropping them. "Michelle. I woke you up ."
