Bolo

by Mariska Hutchence

  I hear a peal of laughter again. “Where?” It comes out as a croak.

  “My place. My other place.” There’s a pause. “When you feel a little better, there’s some things we need to talk about.”

  I hear him, but I only process it in bits. “Jelica?”

  “She made it. She’s in the hospital and they say it was just severe shock.”

  “No shit.” I say. I’ve got to stop doing that.

  An unknown amount of time later, I wake up, but since the light is still coming in through the windows I can’t decide whether it hasn’t been long or it’s been a whole day.

  Avery is sitting on a chair, next to a pair of open French doors looking out to fluffy white clouds, tracking lazily across the sky. He stands up, seeing me. He is wearing jeans but no shirt and I realize it is the first time I’ve seen that. Odd, since you might be carrying his child, I think.

  “Hey, Doll.” He says, still in that same soft tone. “Ready for another jump?”

  I smile, trying not to laugh. “I’ll get back to you on that one.”

  Surprisingly, Avery volunteers some details and from his story I am able to piece together the timeline from my own set of experiences. Apparently, I had two broken ribs and a concussion, the former from the initial stampede, the latter probably from something falling on me after the charges went off. Simply in awe of the casual way he describes the chaotic scene, I just listen to him continue with the story.

  “Timed for midnight. If I had been on my way back to you a minute earlier…” He trails off.

  “I’m glad you weren’t.” I say, feeling his hand on mine. The tenderness with which he touches me and is obviously taking care of me finally breaks through the last of my walls. “I love you, you know.”

  “I love you too, Suzanne Claremont.” He says. “It’s a good thing too.”

  He pauses for a moment and I am about to ask him why, but he beats me to it with the answer.

  “Because otherwise I would have to just keep you tied up in the cellar.”

  I choke back the painful laughter, seeing the pleasure on his beautiful face. “I’m willing to compromise. Maybe part-time on that?”

  I gently move my free hand up to my chest, feeling the tightly wound bandage there. “Hospital?”

  “They were overwhelmed. That’s Saw’s work.”

  Finally, it dawns on me. “Sawbones.” Painfully obvious.

  Avery smiles and nods. I want to kiss him, but I’m not comfortable moving. “I owe him double now.”

  I make a mental note to ask him about that later, but it finally dawns on me that the pair of us just told each other we loved one another and I decide to say it again to try it for size.

  “I love you Avery.”

  This gets the response I want, a gentle kiss.

  “My lips aren’t broken, you know.” I smile.

  The second kiss intensifies, though I can feel the smile on his face through his lips. “You want something to eat?” He asks as I finally relinquish his lips.

  “You cooking?”

  “Anything you want. Pantry’s all stocked.”

  “Don’t we need to talk to the police?”

  “Only if they talk to us first.” He says, kissing me gently again.

  “Apparently there are things we need to talk about.” I say. “But they can wait. For the record…”

  “Yeah?”

  “Whatever it is…whatever they are…I don’t care. I trust you.” It’s the least amongst the things I want to give to him, now that I’ve given him my heart.

  We look at each other for a few minutes, unspoken words crossing the short gap between us. “Waffles.” I say.

  His brow furrows.

  “I’d love waffles.” I say, clarifying.

  “As you wish.” He says, rising to go, then adds, “Princess Buttercup.”

  I’m apparently in love with a closet-case geek.

  Chapter Thirty: Avery

  The room where I put Suzanne only has the twin bed, so I’m sleeping in the bed that I long to share with her. I’m awake because dawn is starting to light up the big untreated window. It’s up high and we’re out in the middle of nowhere, so I’ve left it that way so it doesn’t distract from the beautiful view. I’d be in there, still sleeping on the chair, but it’s the second day and she’s not having it as she’s getting around a little better, building her strength. Most of the time, I’m in there, and we’ve been catching up. Not that we’ve been apart, just catching up from not spending the first part of our lives together.

  Picturing an eight-year-old curly-haired brunette with missing teeth in a bee costume at her dance recital is eluding me, but she’s promised pictures once things go back to normal. I had to practically restrain her from wanting to go to work yesterday morning, but she relented after I told her she’s only missed two days and they’d probably understand since they know she was at Raza, which is all over the news. She won’t hold off today, but I plan on sticking close to her office since I’m effectively unemployed. Raza’s closed and it’s a certainty that Devin is keeping a low-profile, that is if he hasn’t already beat a hasty retreat to whatever bolt-hole he keeps rightfully to himself.

  She’s standing in the doorway and the sun is playing on that golden brown hair. She gently makes her way to the bed and I peel down the sheet. She snuggles in. It’s the closest to reality and how I want to spend the rest of my life that we’ve experienced together. I roll to my side behind her, wrapping my arm around her.

  “Too lonely in there.” She whispers in the growing light.

  She reaches up and takes my hand from her shoulder and slides it slowly down the landscape of her side, resting it on her ass. “Better.” She says.

  “You still need to recover, Suze.” I say, giving her upturned cheek a squeeze for good measure.

  “Then be gentle this time.” She says, pushing that beautiful ass back towards me. The effect is immediate.

  I kiss the bare patch at the back of her neck. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Chapter Thirty-One: Suzanne

  With appreciated, although unwanted gentleness, Avery concedes to my desire and I feel him caressing my ass, his fingers hooking under the hem of my gown as he reaches my upper thighs. The touch against my bare flesh is even better once the fabric is bunched up around my waist, alternating between passionate touches and a firm grip that sends ripples of happiness into the darker reaches of my sexuality. I long for the roughness that I know could accompany his size and strength, wanting nothing more than to feel taken by him and dare I say it, owned by him. That can’t happen right now, and I know he won’t let that happen, but I’m still enjoying the moment. As he touches me, igniting those low fires inside, again I realize that I’ve not seen his body head to toe. It seems an odd thing as I feel his hands between my legs and I lift the top one like a submissive puppy. His fingers easily slip inside of my body, but I can’t wait for him to replace them with the real thing.

  “I’m yours, Avery.” I whisper in the growing light as I feel his kisses along my neck and back.

  “You’re the last woman I ever want to touch, Suzanne.” He replies, his wet fingers slipping out of me as I feel his weight shift in the bed. “I love you.”

  With those two words, I feel him entering me from behind, spreading my body open as it accepts his own. It feels like so much more than sex, and I want to laugh at the cliché I’ve become recently. I lower my raised leg, tightening his flesh to mine, trapping him where I want to keep him forever. Sinking deeper and deeper inside of me all the pains in my body are whisked away for at least this one fleeting moment. I want him to devour me, inch by inch until I am not only full of him, but full of the need for him, though it will only fill my cup for so long. The hunger for him is too great.

  His breath is hot on my neck, exciting the wispy hairs there, that booming baritone that can be so sweet when turned on me silenced completely in the fulfillment of our shared need.

  I know he doesn�
��t want to hurt me, but I want to egg him on, to encourage him to take me with force and determination. Once he is completely inside of me, I whisper, as if to the pillow. “Now fuck me.”

  The empty sensation of his withdrawal is only tamed by the knowledge that he will return, and when he does, he fills that void in a tenth of the time of that first deliberate thrust, sinking into me fast and deep. I cry out in pleasure, knowing that the house is otherwise empty, save the two of us. Avery’s rhythm ramps up like the acceleration of his Charger, a fitting but accurate reflection of himself and a vindication of not judging a book by its cover. The engine that is his soul purrs just as beautifully as that well-maintained vehicle and it is my fondest desire to provide the same care for the man himself. His arm is across my shoulder, his hand gripping one of my breasts, pulling me hard back into him. As his passion grows, he seems to forget about my injuries, but the last thing I want right now is for him to remember. I inch forward, bending deeper at the waist, jutting my ass out, hoping to provide him with more access to my overheated body. I’m waiting for that one thrust that I know will send me cascading over the edge, just like when he pulled me into the void as I watched the small plane fade to an imperceptible speck as the air and the sky and the world took us together.

  His impending climax is telegraphed to me through the pace of the breath on my neck and in my hair, his grip on my breast guaranteed to leave a mark that I will wear proudly, but privately. I’m his and his alone, and I know it. There’s no escaping that at this point.

  “Don’t stop.” I say breathlessly. “Whatever you do, don’t stop.” I pause for a moment before my mind is completely made up. “The first time might not have taken.”

  If there was any doubt that he didn’t hear me, the fact that his breathing stopped dispelled it. As he plunges to the very depth of me and explodes, I just know.

  Chapter Thirty-Two: Suzanne

  The Charger pulls into the prime spot in front of the office and I feel like the belle of the ball as Avery crosses to the passenger side and opens the door. I don’t even have to look at the window to sense the eyes on the odd pair that we make. In jeans and a t-shirt, he’s certainly a specimen. Tall, dark, ominous, all the things that used to excite me, yes, but also so much more. Caring, sensitive, and intensely devoted are the secrets that I keep for himself. Let them wonder, let them gossip; I’m way past giving a damn, other than the internal joy that their jealousy brings out in me. Sometimes you’ve got to keep a little something for yourself.

  Regardless, as I step into the office, I know that today’s the day I put in my notice. Two weeks are a formality, really. As an agent, my only real obligation is to my customers, most of whom will go to Shay, the closest thing I have to a friend here. I decide that I’m going to make more of an effort at that. Well, not all of my clients. I’m keeping Avery Boles to myself. Call me selfish.

  I can see that the eyes on us are trying not to be seen as he follows me in and sits in the reception area. I told him that I’d be fine for the day, but he insisted on waiting around an hour or so to make sure I was going to be okay. I drop my purse on the floor in my cubicle, leaning over the wall, where Shay is already looking in my direction.

  “Can we talk? Like in the conference room?”

  She nods, trying to hide her eagerness and as we cross to the little meeting space, I can see her deliberately not looking towards reception.

  “What’s up, Suzanne?” She asks, though I know what’s on her mind.

  “I just wanted to know that I’m leaving the firm.” I tell her, watching the expression change on her face. “You’re the closest thing to a friend that I have, so I’m dropping all my clients on you if you’d like them.”

  She goggles for a moment and her nodding proceeds her words for a second. “You are a goddess.” She says. “And this isn’t the only reason.”

  I’ve got to tell someone, and Anjelica’s still in the hospital. I’m planning a visit, but it just hasn’t happened yet as I had my own recovery to deal with. I dismiss the sad notion that very few of her ‘daddies’ would likely visit her there; not something I want to be thinking about right now.

  “That’s what he calls me sometimes, you know.” I say, leaning over the table.

  “Where in the fuck did you find him?” Shay gushes, her eyes glancing out of the office, even though he’s out of sight.

  “Club Raza.” I say, then realize the importance of what I just said as her enthusiasm comes down a notch.

  “Shit, you were there, right?” I nod. I feel vindicated in my choice of her as a possible friend as she acknowledges it, then moves on. “That sucks, but wow. Prep yourself for the world’s cheesiest question.”

  I intercept it. “I haven’t met any of his friends yet.” I say, then correct myself. “Well, maybe one, but I don’t know his status.”

  Shay laughs out loud. “Okay, is this an appropriate time to call dibs?”

  “Good a time as any.” I laugh. Shay reaches across the table and takes my hand.

  “I’m glad you’re safe.” She says, true sincerity on her face. “And glad you’re…well, you know.” Another grin. “It couldn’t have happened to a nicer person.”

  Shay’s words warm me. The door opens. It’s Ned Weiland.

  “Can I see you, Suzanne?”

  Shay and I both stand and she gives me a hug before she walks out.

  “Your numbers are…” I stop him in mid-sentence by interrupting.

  “I’m putting in my resignation, Ned.”

  “What?”

  “I’m giving all my clients and listings to Shay.”

  “Is it another agency?” He says, changing tactics and pretending I wouldn’t notice that he had just been about to give me shit about my sales figures.

  “Nope. If anything, I’ll go it on my own.” I say as I walk out of the conference room. He follows me, practically sputtering as I cross in between the cubicles and the reception area. I’m not about to give him the chance to talk, not that he would be able to convince me to stay.

  “You can’t just go. You have a responsibility…” I cut him off again.

  “I have a responsibility to me.” And Avery, but there’s no need to say it, especially to him.

  We stand in silence for a few minutes before he changes direction once again, trying to salvage his fragile ego.

  “Well, good riddance.” He says, and I see a dozen eyes behind him, peering over the walls. “Besides, I’m looking for a younger team.” He pauses for a moment, then adds what he figures is his coup de grace. “And fitter.”

  The sea of eyes behind him widen, and I put it down to his nasty comment, but they keep getting wider. The shadow looming over my back quickly puts it in perspective, though.

  “Did I just hear you correctly?” The sweetness in that husky baritone is completely absent.

  Even Ned has to look up to meet the eyes of Avery’s imposing figure.

  “This is none of your business, sir.” He says, though his voice quavers.

  “It’s every bit my goddamned business.” Avery says, his tone not changing in the least; it’s actually unsettling, even from my position.

  “You need to leave.” Ned says, trying to stand his ground. “And take this whore with you.”

  I cringe because I know what’s coming and I’m powerless to stop it. It’s just a jab, but it lands with a sickening crunch and Ned Weiland, my former boss, slumps to the floor in an awkward heap. Shay, in the front cubicle, leans over to look. She glances to the pile of man on the floor for a moment.

  “And he’s out.” She says in a mock announcer’s voice.

  Applause rings out as the rest of the girls stand. Avery blushes and looks to me.

  “You know he’s going to sue, right?” I ask, a little perturbed.

  “I didn’t see anything.” Shay says, looking around and behind her. “I think he might have had a stroke or something.” There are mutters of agreement.

  “Shay.” I say. “
I’ll call you.” I make the phone gesture with my fingers as she smiles. Avery follows me out, a step behind.

  “You’re going to stop doing that at some point, right?” I say as I slide into the car with him holding open the door. Internally, I’m grinning ear-to-ear.

  “It’s a work in progress.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three: Avery

  The smell of Saw’s grill wafting in through the open French doors overlooking the upstairs deck is a reminder that we’re going to need to roll out of bed at some point. Suzanne is tucked into my arms, lost in thought, probably in the same vicinity as me. I hear the happy laughter following the delicious scents and picture the kids out there playing, but this time my mind adds a few more into the mix. I rest my hand on her stomach and she covers it with her own. There’s nothing to feel there now, but I know it’s coming; at least I hope it’s coming. Suzanne watches me play with the kids, and I know that she wants it as much as I do, even though we really haven’t talked openly about it. When Isabelle calls out to me, it sounds like ‘Bobo’ and it makes me laugh every time. After I explained it to Suzanne, she had a field day mocking me about it, her laughter thrilling my ears even as I grabbed her and threw her over my knee. The smacks had been playful at first before turning into so much more and we were just now recovering from the passionate tryst that had followed. I’m still nervous about her ribs, but they don’t seem to bother her, not that she would probably tell me, anyway.

  Suzanne has really opened up to me, and last night was spent in talking, mixed with lovemaking. It seems like every discussion we have about what we want in a lover quickly turns into a demonstration, as if we have to teach each other through example. That’s the best way to learn, though, isn’t it?

  “There’s nothing to feel right now.” She says, one of the first open flirtations with the desire that we both obviously hold. “But I’m always willing to do what it takes to improve the odds.”

  She looks up at me playfully. “Saw’s expecting us.” I say.