by Maya James
When he pulls my hips back, I feel his huge, swollen cock separate my labia and burrow into me. I rock back on him and gasp with pleasure as I force him deeper. Justin slowly builds his rhythm with excruciatingly long thrusts forward, his wet thickness pulling in and out, filling me to capacity with his lust.
I have the chills now and they have nothing to do with the temperature of the room. It's strictly from the excitement of being with him, the bliss his passion creates.
My body shakes and quivers when we collide and another climax is building in me. I squeeze tight around him, making every moment count.
Without a word, Justin pulls himself out of my heat and picks me up off the floor. I spin blindly in the coldness, unable to see where we are going. He unties my hands for a few seconds, yanking my dress off and reties my wrists in front of me. When he lays me down, it's on my back over my dress sprawled out on some type of shelf.
Justin spreads my legs and pushes them up toward my chest. I imagine what I look like, how exposed I am at this moment, and I hear him growl with his own excitement. His strong hands grab onto the back of my thighs, spreading me open with his thumbs while his huge manhood returns. It impales me, sending fiery thrills to my limbs.
I want him so bad, I can feel my as my orgasm flourishes under his aggressiveness. I want him to make me cum. I beg him as his body thrusts over and over, our voices twisting through the rooms and back out into the kitchen.
Justin fucks me until we cry out together in between our heavy breathing and strained grunts. He tightens his masculine hands around my thighs, squeezing them during each thrust and grind of his hips. Finally, I am crashing in rapid waves of relief, my wetness gushing down his shaft as he is releasing inside me.
This is a celebration, but not about the New Year. This is about us, about our new lives.
After his thrusts slow to a stop, Justin backs himself out of me and helps clean me up before even bothering to untie me and remove my blindfold. He moves quickly now that I'm beginning to feel the cold without his passion keeping me heated, getting me dressed as quickly as he can.
After my clothes are back on, he fixes the plastic strips, shuts the freezer door, and leads us out of the cold room, shutting that door carefully too.
The music and noise hit us the second we are back out in the club. Justin has my hand in his. "I love you, Warrior," he shouts through a smile, that beyond sexy spread of his lips.
Before I can reply, he drags me out where the crowd swallows us. Eventually we find Trisha dancing with Sam and they beg us to join them. I run out for a moment and grab Melissa and Lena, forcing them all to follow me where we form a huge group around the others and spend the rest night dancing in the New Year with my friends.
I only have Melissa until the afternoon tomorrow, so I make the best of it now. Clearly, she will be bringing Tommy home with her tonight, so I've already made it understood they are having brunch with Justin and I tomorrow.
It was too quick, this visit with her, just like I knew it would be.
CHAPTER VII
This morning, her first thought was that Charity and Justin had outdone themselves for everyone last night at Cipriani. Watching the two of them together was so much fun. The whole evening was incredible, but now she feels completely hung-over. It was an awesome night, but the price is being paid today, mostly by her head and her sore dancing legs. It took forever to climb out of bed and get the day rolling, but now there was something in her stomach helping her.
The warm body in her bed when she'd gotten out made her smile. It was so nice to have him there—even nicer to remember that he is the reason her girlie parts are tender.
That makes her tingle inside.
Maybe there would be more of that soon, once he finally shakes his exhaustion. She smiles in hopes of it.
Another bite of toast vanishes into her teeth, followed by a sip of coffee that was not her best. Facing the window, the sun is filtering through the blinds and soaking her delicate skin, making her feel beautiful. As she gets better, her outlook of the day is growing brighter.
Behind her, back by the bedroom, she hears him beginning to stir. There's a low thump that was probably his hand hitting the empty mattress beside him where she was lying before. He groaned lightly into the emptiness, and she decided that she would be seeing his handsome face soon enough.
The coffee is hot against her full, maybe even swollen, lips, and the last of her toast disappears. She slowly licks the crumbs from her fingers and rolls up the napkin she'd carried her food on. When she stands, she moves to the coffee maker and slides out a drawer filed with different K Cups, trying to guess which one he would prefer.
Probably something sweet.
Thump!
That sounded like his head on the headboard, and she laughed easily. "Are you okay?" she calls in to him. He doesn't answer, so she moves closer curiously. "Babe?"
Maybe he's still out of it. He did drink more than she had. That makes her smile again. She's sure he's going to wake up lousy.
Maybe she should check on him. Her stiff gait delivers her through the hall. "Babe?" she calls softer, just in case he's still sleeping or nursing a headache.
There's no reply as she pushes the bedroom door open, but she does hear the thump again.
"Babe?"
Suddenly the door is ripped out of her hand angrily, yanking her into the room with it violently. There is a searing, hot pain in her left shoulder as if the muscle has torn. "Fuck!" She hollers, instantly groping for the hurt deep under her skin.
She rights herself the best that she can, and her eyes tear around the room. It would be better if she didn't find him, if somehow he wasn't home, but that's not the case. He looms over her like a shadow and swings, hitting her in a thump that makes her screaming head see stars in the fresh blackness.
THE CONSTANT BEEPING OF the heart monitor is maddening. The sterile smell makes me dizzy. This is not where I thought we'd be today—or any day.
"I hate hospitals," I mumble to myself. I'd seen enough of them last year. My hands fumble nervously as they look for some distraction.
When I received the call earlier, my body went numb and I couldn't move. Once I did get moving, I went at full speed to get here. The shock continued to threaten me all the way.
Now I'm numb again, and I need to throw up. Everyone knows what probably happened, but no one is talking about it and that makes me want to scream. One more sheepish, sideways glance, and I might haul off and deck someone and not give a shit that it isn't their fault.
"I just want my friend to be okay," I say when I look a Justin. "No one is helping her." I know they've done all they can for now—it just doesn't feel enough. She had gone through surgery before they found me in her phone as her emergency contact. The worst part of that was over before we got here.
"They're going to take care of her Charity," he reassures me, rubbing my shoulder. All the emotion he needs to give me is right there on his face waiting for me, and I feel myself calming. I breathe him in through my eyes, finding a normal rhythm.
Justin sees an officer coming up the hall and I feel him stiffen. A few minutes ago he said this might happen, and that he would have to take care of it if it did. His serious eyes settle on me to make sure I will be okay for a moment.
I nod quickly. I want him to take care of this; we need to handle it—not the police. In an instant, he's on his phone.
The officer stops at the nurse’s station, talking to someone for directions to the right room, and by the time he's done and heading for us, Justin is done with his call.
The officer is slightly older, maybe fifty guessing by the grey in his short beard. It makes him look handsome, along with the concern on his face. He's obviously done these calls many times before. He steps into the room with us and looks at her from the doorway first, letting us accept his presence.
"Has she been conscious yet?" he asks at last.
The question makes my knees buckle just to hear
it.
I just wanna fucking scream!
My anger is the only thing that is capable of drowning my fear, but this isn't the time or place. Justin senses my emotions, as always, and scoops up my hand.
"No. Not since we've been here," Justin answers.
"Are you family?"
"No, but we're the closest she has. There's a brother in jail in Texas, but that's it," I answer.
He nods softly. "It was called in as a possible domestic case. Do you know who she lives with or who might have done this to her?"
Yes! We know exactly who the fuck it was—and he's a dead man!
"No," Justin lies. "She's single, no one steady."
Just then the officers phone rings and he steps into the hall for a moment. When he comes back in, he seems less interested.
"They called me off," he tells us. "Not a domestic. Another unit will probably come by soon."
That was entirely Justin's work. He'd called someone high up, and it had trickled down until they found what cop was at the hospital, and it had all happened that fast.
The officer leaves the room and I move back to her side, touching her hand as gently as I can so that I don't hurt her more than she already is. Tears flood my cheeks in an instant.
"I can't even recognize her, Justin," I cry in a whisper.
His eyes well up with his heart broken for both of us. "It's the swelling. It'll go down in a day or two I promise. The doctor said there's nothing broken in her face and it will heal up fine. That's always scarier looking than it is. You didn't look too different, believe me."
That makes me feel better. She's such a beautiful girl, inside and out, and this is going to change her. I don't know how she'll ever trust a man again.
Justin pulls a chair over and sits me beside her, running a strong arm around me. I can feel his anger too, he's just more experienced with his control. This is a friend of his, and he wants revenge as much as I do.
Suddenly, her eyes twitch under their lids and I motion to Justin. "I think she's waking up."
It takes a few seconds, but finally her eyes do open. Her confusion is obvious and devastating to witness. "Hey, Girl," I whisper, trying to comfort her.
Her black and swollen eyes search for me. There is a bit of relief when she sees me and Justin. I think she wants to talk, but she just doesn't have it in her, especially with all the pain medication they have her on.
"You're okay," I tell her. "Don't try to talk, or move. We have you now and you're okay."
She tries to move despite my warning, not knowing that both of her wrists have metal pins in them that will take some time to heal. The pain makes her wince and Justin's anger flares through the muscles of his arm. Seeing her like this is too much for his calm side.
"Try not to move, Sweetie." I remind her.
In the slightest way, she nods her head. It seems to make her eyes circle the room and then she is out again, but at least we know she can wake up. "I have to tell them," I mumble again, hitting the nurse call.
Justin agrees beside me. I notice that the top of his hands turned white grabbing the edge of her bed.
"Are you okay?" I ask him, realizing he's asked me a dozen times and I've been so distracted and thoughtless that I haven't asked him.
"No," he says, "but I will be." I know exactly what that means.
The nurse came in and we explained the brief moment she had been awake and alert enough to acknowledge us. Her big eyes are full of compassion, and that fits her beautiful face and thick body. She seems hopeful while she listens and tells us that she will enter it and call the doctor to inform him. It was a good sign in the middle of a lot of badness.
My need for vengeance bubbles up again. I don't understand how someone could do this to such a beautiful person. It can't be so different from Steve—a sickness or disconnect in their head. I remember how I felt in the hours before Justin rescued me, that hopelessness, but at least I had Justin to think about.
This monster left my friend with nothing! She must have been so scared. Worse, she would have felt alone.
Bastard!
Imagining her in that state, hurt, bleeding, thinking no one would come for her, it's heartbreaking and infuriating. "He had no right, Justin. He had no right to do this to her." His hands comfort me as my tears return.
Together we will make sure she is taken care of, that she won't need a thing, but I think she deserves much more from me than I can give her to help with the loneliness.
One day when she is stronger, I may have to tell her the truth about Steve and what I went through at his hands. Justin might not agree, but I will be careful; I'll never discuss what became of Steve, only what he put me through. He might not think it's worth the risk to talk about Steve at all, but he doesn't understand. Maybe only a woman could understand the bond that develops. Hell, it wasn't until just now that I see my own emotions reaching out for a comfort that only a girlfriend with nearly the same experience could give. I need to be there for her—for both of us. If that day comes, I'll keep Justin out of it.
That's something that just keeps getting easier for me, keeping secrets from him to make things better. Justin is still so distracted from New Year’s Eve that he hasn't even noticed that there's more going on around him. Hopefully, it stays that way until I need to change it.
"I hate seeing her this way. That fucking asshole!" I growl.
"I hate seeing you both this way," Justin agrees. He slides his phone back out of his pocket and punches out a text. He knows I'm watching him do it. "Getting some eyes on him for now, nothing more."
"Good," I snap with a coldness I'm happy to hear in my voice.
I don't see him as a man; someone that does this is nothing more than an animal. Her body was beaten everywhere, and there are handprints around her neck where he tried to strangle her. Justin said he didn't hold it long enough, mistaking her unconsciousness for death, and that's the only reason we still have her. Her wrists look like they were broken when she caught herself falling to the ground. The doctor said they see a lot of similar breaks from people getting knocked off their motorcycles; its instinct to put your hands out. After that, it looks like he beat and kicked her everywhere before choking her.
"She should not have gone through this, baby," I cry again.
Justin's arms give me comfort until we can have something more bittersweet.
WHEN JUSTIN LEFT TONIGHT, his hands were balled into tight fists that relaxed only long enough to hold me. For that he was full of gentle emotion, passing his strength to me, sharing my pain.
As soon as he let go, the fiery anger re-flamed in his eyes. "I'm going to go take care of this—for all of us, and when I get back it's all over. We'll relax in the morning and check out. Then we can go straight back to her and make sure she's okay."
A nod was my only reply. Justin will never let me near the danger, I get that, but I really want to do this one myself.
And he knows that.
"Please just stay here, Charity. Go downstairs while I'm gone; pick out the best bottle of wine they have and have it ready in our Jacuzzi room for when I return."
I submit to him. It's the only way I can get him to leave so I can decide if I'm going to follow or not.
Another kiss from his beautiful, subtle lips, with his hand around my cheek and neck, and he is leaving. "I love you, Warrior."
"I love you too. Stay safe!" I demand.
As he steps through the door of our Forest Guest Room, he fires his overconfident smirk back at me. That smirk makes me smile and nervous at the same time. What he's going to do should be quick and easy for him, but just because it should be, doesn't mean it will be. If it wasn't dangerous at all, if there was no way this could go bad, then he would be letting me go with him. Despite his smile—there was nothing to be cocky about.
The door closed behind him, and just like that I am alone in the Fern Lodge Hotel near Lake George. It's the most luxurious rustic styled room I've ever seen, with a Jacuzzi room comp
letely separate from the bathroom, large stone fireplace, and vaulted ceiling. It feels like a log cabin smack in the middle of Beverly Hills.
I want to come back here some day when I can enjoy it. This is not the time; my head is too caught up in revenge. Justin wants to pamper me through this, but I've already told him not to try, that we'll go away for that after this is all done and we are no longer needed so much but he booked this lavish room anyway.
I wonder if he really thinks for a second that I will not follow him.
I'm just waiting for him to stop waiting for me. Right now he's either at the end of the hall or in the lobby, some place he can wait to see if I'm coming out right behind him. I'm sure he'll catch me at one point tonight, but I'm certainly not going to be that fucking stupid and easy.
The address I need is in my phone; I don't need to follow him. A wicked smile spreads evenly over my face—he's not the only one that has friends helping him.
About fifteen minutes later I figure he has to be gone. He doesn't have all night to play with me. Carefully, I check the hall around my door and then head for the lobby. He isn't anywhere to be found, and outside I find the truck we'd brought is missing as I'd hoped.
I went back in to the lobby and walked to the concierge desk, where they happened to have a package waiting for Miss Powers. I thought they might, since I had arranged for a rental car to be delivered and the key left in an envelope for me at the desk. There was one more thing to do before I left, I asked them to send one of their most expensive red wines up to my room for later.
So much for spending my time in their cellar.
My phone is powered off in the seat beside me. I'd punched the address into the car's GPS before shutting of my phone so I wasn't so easily traceable.
When I get there, I have no idea what I expect to see, maybe just a dark house with Justin's car parked out front. There's no way I can go in; I think I just need to be there, to be close to Justin when he has our revenge. This one was just too close to home, not just because she's my friend, but because it reminds me of Steve. This has to be over so those memories can slink back into the dark places they belong.
