“You know,” he says as he rises to his feet and unpops the button of his jeans. I can’t remove my eyes from the front of his pants. I’m waiting with bated breath for him to pull them down. “We should probably wait-“
Rolling my eyes, I put my hands on my hips, “Seriously?”
“Well your roommate is here...”
Walking to him, I unzip his jeans for him, reach in and take him in my hand. His eyes roll back in his head and I smile triumphantly, “What do you say now?” I ask huskily? And then I laugh as he rips his jeans and briefs down so fast, his timing rivals mine. I laugh when he picks me up in a cradle and places me down on the bed.
He stares down at me for a moment, before he lowers his body on top of mine and kisses me once again. “Tessa?”
“Hmm?” words aren’t easily formed at the moment.
“You’re beautiful,” I look at his face and see him peering down at me. When his eyes meet mine again, I lean up and kiss him softly. As we break away, his lips move to under my jaw, down my neck and to my chest. When his lips surround my nipple and suck, I arch my back in ecstasy. “Yes,” I hiss and run my fingers through his short and soft hair.
As he kisses down my stomach, I squirm. He places a kiss on each of my hip bones, and then pushes my legs apart. “Open,” he instructs. He kisses the inside of each thigh and runs his fingertips down the inside of my leg, all the way to my ankle. His touch evokes goosebumps and I barely refrain from scolding him for being a tease. He raises his head and smiles at me just before his lips meet the most sensitive part of me. “Oh,” I say in a long sigh as I enjoy the feeling of his mouth loving the most sensitive part of me.
He swirls his tongue around my clit and just when I think I’m going to fall off the edge, he moves and slides his tongue away. It’s a seductive dance of give and take until finally I can’t take it anymore. “Ryder. Now.” I tell him. He looks up at me and I tell him honestly, “I want you inside of me. Now. No more foreplay. We’ve had enough of that since we had sex the first time, don’t you think?”
With a laugh, he moves back up my body and kisses me, his tongue sweeping inside of my mouth. The taste of myself on his tongue, is erotic as hell. “Yes, ma’am,” he says as he pulls away and I laugh too.
I reach for a condom out of my bedside table and wait for him to slide it on. My hands clutch his shoulders as he finally slides every, single, inch, inside of me bit by bit. As we come together, we both sigh in pleasure. He looks at me, kisses me softly, and with an urge from my hips, begins to move in and out. “Does it feel good?” he asks me.
“God, yes.”
I wrap a leg around the back of his, I grab his ass, run my hands up his back, press my chest into his and moan at how right, full and complete I feel. I’ve never felt like this during sex, ever. It’s always been a quick act to feel a fleeting moment of connection with someone – anyone. A way to get lost, but with Ryder, I’m here with him during every moment. He constantly looks me in the eyes, kisses and licks my lips, kisses and bites me gently on my neck. We are both in tune and present.
It’s a revelation.
Looking at him, feeling overcome with emotion, I cup his face this time. His eyes search mine, a question and concern there. “Are you okay?” he asks.
“I’m perfect. I’m so, so perfect. And I’m also so very much in love with you. I’ve never felt more complete than I do when I’m one with you.”
He pushes his hips into me, entering me completely; fully. We both moan at the feeling. “Fuck, firecracker, I love you so much,” he murmurs.
He pulls out of me and then sits up. Reaching out to me, he brings me toward him and has me straddle his lap. Slowly, while he holds my waist, I come down on him, connecting us once more and begin to move. His mouth finds my breasts and he kisses and sucks. He reaches back and grabs my ass with both of his hands, encouraging me to move up and down. Then, his thumb finds and presses my clit. It’s all I can take and I begin moving up and down on his cock even harder and faster until I’m breaking into a thousand pieces and he follows and finds his release almost at the same time.
“God, you’re fucking beautiful,” he tells me and brings me down for a kiss to his mouth. He winds a hand in my hair, pulls me back to look at him so once again he can say, “I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” I tell him never tiring of saying it – never feeling like it will be enough. Just as I bring my mouth towards his again, we jump at a loud knock on my door.
“Does this mean I can put the bat back in the closet?” Gina yells through the door.
Anger fills me in an uncontrollable wave and it’s enormously difficult to be in this building, knowing what we’re here to do. I can’t imagine how it will feel to actually be in the same room with him. And if I’m feeling this way, I can’t even begin to imagine how it feels for Tessa. She’s holding my hand tightly as we walk down the hall, my fingers white and pulsating from loss of circulation.
“Have a seat here. When they’re ready for you, they will call you in,” the bailiff explains to Tessa. She nods solemnly, her grip on my hand tightening even more. We take our seats and begin to wait, every second feeling like an eternity.
Leaning over, I tuck her hair behind her ear and gently kiss her on the cheek. She turns her head to face me and presses a kiss to my lips. “Thank you for being here with me,” she says quietly.
“My place will always be with you,” I tell her honestly. “I need to ask you again.” She looks at me and waits, already knows what I’m going to ask. It’s been a few weeks since she told me about a new phone call she received. The Arizona State’s Prosecutor’s office was proceeding with pressing charges against her father for a variety of offenses, their ability to do so cemented with Tessa’s agreement to provide testimony. Her support encouraged fifteen other victims to come forth and offer testimony as well. What no one knew, including Tessa, was that he had kept a journal of many of his exploits, some including pictures. The sick fuck. Their office had obtained that totally incriminating evidence when they issued a search warrant and found the journal packed in a box in the garage. And though Tessa provided a testimony, the Judge agreed to allow it to be videotaped and played to the jury, thus eliminating her need to appear in person. In fact, several others were given that same opportunity. Accordingly, this will be the first time she will come face to face with him.
While I know that this will be a good thing for her in terms of moving forward and healing, it’s extremely worrying, and I’ve kept an eye on her like a hawk. There are no signs of sadness or depression that I can tell. In fact, her strength has been impressive. That’s not to say, that between the two of us, we haven’t had our share of anxiety, but we have talked through every concern and have sought professional support as well. She’s never wavered from her decision since she’s made it. And we’ve talked about it incessantly. I told her this isn’t something she has to do, that she shouldn’t feel pressured to do so, but she insisted. She said it’s way past time.
I still ask her though. I want her to know that if she has one shred of doubt and wants to run, I’ll lead the way. “Are you sure you want to do this, Nurse Hottie?” I ask her making her smile and relief cuts through me at the sight.
She nods, “Yes.”
Nodding in return, we wait.
When the door finally opens, it sounds like a bomb in the corridor. We each jump a little, and look at the representative standing there. “Tessa Jameson?”
“Yes, that’s me.”
“You can go on in now. They’re ready for you.”
“Okay,” she stands up and I stand with her. Her hand still in mind, I don’t let go as we move toward the door. “And you are?” the representative asks me. Looking him square in the face daring him to have a problem with my being here, I respond, “Her support person.” He nods and holds the door open further. We were told that I could wait with her and then sit within eyesight to provide her as much support as I can. Moreover, Jane
has been helpful in preparing us for this appearance.
When we enter, several people turn toward us. Tessa’s footsteps falter and I can see her looking toward the left side of the room. Straight ahead sits the presiding Judge behind his bench, dressed in the traditional black robe. The Defendant’s Attorney and his assistant sits to the left side of the courtroom, just like on television, and the Prosecuting District Attorney with Jane at her side, to the right. Both have tables in front of them with papers and what not spread out on top. To the left of the Defense Attorney sits Tessa’s father Dr. Charles Riverton. There several people occupying the chairs in the courtroom in fact so many, I realize I as look around, that some have been seated in the gallery. I must admit that I was not expecting that. Taking another glance toward the defense table, I see a woman sitting in the front row leaning forward talking with Dr. Riverton, who I can only assume is Tessa’s mother. She does a double take when she sees Tessa, and looks toward her with a smile. When she rises from her chair and begins walking toward Tessa, I emit a curse under my breath. Tessa squeezes my hand in response.
“Oh no,” I hear Tessa murmur under her breath. My hand leaves hers and I circle it around her waist instead, pulling her against my side. Her mother witnesses the action and curiosity crosses her face. I quickly whisper and ask if she wants me to get between them and help her back to her seat, but Tessa shakes her head no.
“Tessa! I’ve already provided my statement. I’m so happy that you are here. Thank you so much for doing this for your father, the man who has always loved you and did everything possible for you growing up. We know how you always were in need of attention, but I’m sure you have come to your senses and realize how cruel and unfair your comments and accusations were to –well, both of us. But we don’t need to go into that now, do we? Again, thanks you so much for helping this man who helped give you life.”
Her mother tries to hug her, and as it appears she is about to whisper something else into Terra’s ear. Tessa steps back and visibly pulls away from her. A slight groan of pain rises from Tessa’s throat. I squeeze her hand harder and touch her back gently with my free hand, keeping close watch of her mother, ready to defy Tessa’s instructions if she dares say one more thing. Looks of frustration, irritation and perplexity appear to briefly cross her mother’s face and then in a blink of an eye it goes blank. She turns and walks back to her seat and I am left standing there amazed at the complete lunacy of this woman.
We continue to walk toward the prosecutor and a woman stands to speak to Tessa. Keeping my eyes on her mother, her face registers shock. Looking away and back to Tessa, I see warmth cross her face.
“You didn’t have to come,” Tessa says and the two women embrace.
“Of course I did.” She holds Tessa’s upper arms and looks her in the eyes. I’m not sure what she finds there but whatever it is, she nods and gives her a brief smile.
Tessa turns to me, “Ryder, this is my friend Detective Jane Monroe who has offered us so much counsel,”
Shaking her hand, I nod, “Nice to meet you in person finally.”
“It’s nice to meet you too.”
As we begin to sit, another individual, an older pleasant looking woman approaches Tessa and reaches to embrace her. Tessa’s eyes glaze over as she returns the hug. As we take our seats, Tessa leans over, “That was Helen. I’ll introduce you later.” I smile remembering the story told me about her and thinking that Tessa, who thought her life was meaningless, has already touched so many.
Tessa purposefully sits with her head slightly looking to the right, avoiding glancing at her father. I now have my eyes trained to monitor her, and try to resist the urge to pass Dr. Riverton threatening glares, but I know it would serve only to make myself feel better. The Judge calls the court to order and reminds those present that this is the point in the sentencing hearing when those who were victimized by the accused have an opportunity to present a statement to the court to be taken into consideration for the sentencing. I hear Tessa give a little sigh and watch her muscles tighten.
Even though we didn’t attend the trial, brief and straightforward as it was, we feel favorable toward the Judge, who was kind enough to expedite the proceeding and place the trial on the docket in what the Prosecutor says was record time. Rumor is that he was absolutely horrified that Dr. Riverton was about to be released from prison and that he had only been given the minimum, and not presumptive sentencing originally, especially given the evidence submitted that appeared to have been suppressed in the original trial. Since his original trial and conviction, Arizona has increased the harshness of its penalties for crimes committed against children. The extensiveness of the crimes for which he was just found guilty, will result in no less than seventeen years and average twenty-eight years, with a maximum of thirty-five years for each offense, with time to be served consecutively. In effect, there is no way he will ever see the light of day again. I guess that’s why I was sort of leaning for Tessa not to do this, but I understand why she must.
As the judge provides a few more directions, I tune out. Tessa’s hand trembles in mine and I turn to her. Moving my hand to the side of her face, I cup it, waiting for her eyes to meet mine. When they do, I see the fear sitting residence. Rubbing my thumb across her cheekbone, I hold her stare hoping to give her every ounce of determination and strength that are in mine. Little by little, I see the fear lessen as something else takes its place. Her jaw clenches, her mouth firms, her shoulders move back and she straightens in her seat. Nodding at me, and giving me a small smile, I remove my hand.
“Tessa Jameson?” Someone says and we both look up to find the prosecutor looking at Tessa.
She stands and as she does, she looks back at me one more time and I finally realize what it is I’m seeing.
Bravery.
Tessa takes her seat. “Tessa, please state your full name for the record.”
“Tessa Ann Jameson.”
“And what is your relationship to the defendant?”
“I’m his child,” she states.
“Thank you. Tessa, you are now able to provide the court with whatever statement you’d like for us to consider as part of this sentencing phase of the trial. You understand that this statement can be in part of whole considered by the court in determining the length of his incarceration, correct?”
“Yes.”
“So, do you choose to, and are you prepared to provide a statement?”
“Yes, your Honor,” Tessa says a bit timidly.
“Please go ahead then.” Tessa nods, and takes a deep breath while she looks down at her hands. She looks up and finds my eyes. Every single bit of love that I feel for this woman, I try my best to send it her way. I nod, encouraging her the best way I can with silence. She takes a deep breath and nods back, and then looks directly into the eyes of her father.
My gaze moves to him for the first time and see that he is looking back at Tessa. There’s a look of sadness on his face that has no effect on me or Tessa for that matter if her face is any indication. He’s aged in the last fifteen years, his hair now completely white and his face heavily lined. Anger moves through my body, and I’d give almost anything for five unsupervised minutes alone with him. I’d use my fists to tell him exactly how I feel about his crimes. For Carrie and for Tessa.
“For ten years, my own father, a man that should have protected me from the pretend monster’s that lived under my bed, was himself a living breathing monster to me. He molested me during those ten years and I believe should be punished to the fullest extent of the law. I am convinced that my father remains a threat to our community and society as a whole. Further, for the crimes to the other fifteen known individuals that have bravely come forward during this most recent trial, for the unfortunate and untimely other or others who we have lost in tragic suicides, and the potential countless others who may still be unable to confront the horror he inflicted,” she looks at me with those words and my eyes fill with tears. “And for what I kn
ow is the daily horror, despair, regret, sadness, blame and self doubt that we who survived this nightmare experience due to the abuse inflicted at his hand, I respectfully request, Judge, that he fully pay for his crimes by receipt of a sentence that will guarantee that he spend the rest of his natural life behind bars in prison.”
She laughs softly, without humor, “Wow. That’s the first time I’ve ever stated publicly what that man did to me and I didn’t expect to feel…” she wipes the tears from her face that have fallen, “release. I feel such release.” The Judge allows her to proceed. “I’ve spent years blaming myself for the molestation of those other children. That if I had just had the courage to come forward and tell the police what was happening to me when I was young that maybe it never would have happened to them. And you know what? Maybe that is true. But with help, patience, love, and understanding that I’ve received and continue to obtain from very special people in my life, I know that the simple fact remains. And that fact is that my father is to blame for what happened.” Once again she speaks directly to her father, “You hurt me. When you should have loved me, you hurt me. And you slandered love, telling me that you love me – you do not know the meaning of the word. Moreover, when you should have helped children heal and been someone they could trust, you hurt them. You took advantage of them and the parents that trusted in you and you touched them, not to heal them but to hurt them and infested all of us with a sickness unlike any other. One for which there is no vaccine, and for which the cure is long and hard earned, should one be tenacious and fortunate enough for it to happen at all. With your filth, you abused. I pray to god that they’ve been able to place the blame where it belongs as well, and if not, then I’m here to stand for them too. For Carrie,” she looks at me, “for Amy, for Sophie, for Kelly, for Tim, for Krista,” she begins to name all of his victims, her voice getting louder and louder with each one, “for Monica, for Sara, for Steve, for Richard, for Elizabeth, for Rebecca, for Tina, for Olivia, for Mark. I stand for them too – and the likely many more unnamed individuals that are too broken to acknowledge your horrible acts. You are a disgusting excuse for a man and you should rot in prison for every single day of the rest of your life. Please,” she looks at the Judge, “please I beg of you, do not let him have one day of freedom. He took the innocence of girls and boys away for countless years before he was caught. There shouldn’t be a time limit on the amount of time he should have to pay for that, but since there is, he deserves to serve every single second of it. Turning back to her father, she spews “I hate you. I hate you so much and I have waited so long to tell you that. I deserved so much better than you.”
Fighting Lust: A Deadly Sins Novel Page 21
