by Clare James
The relief following through me is indescribable.
Not to mention I am horny as hell. It’s like a dam broke. All of these things are on the menu that never were before, it’s hard to process.
I feel like I won the lottery.
Damn. From the looks of it, so does Tab.
I move the vibe to her clit and graze it once, twice, three times before removing it.
She groans her disappointment.
“I need to see how wet you’re getting for me,” I tell her.
“I’ll show you,” she says, reaching between her legs, but I stop her.
This won’t do. What did she say the last time we were in here? Maybe she needed to be restrained.
Well, maybe she does.
I reach over the bed and swipe the tie I wore to yesterday’s meeting before tying an impressive knot around her wrist. I give a silent thank-you to camp for having taught me such a useful skill.
Damn. She looks so appetizing this way.
For the time being, the soft endearments I usually use fall away. All I can think about is taking the hot ass in front of me.
When I say as much, Tab shudders, so close to her first orgasm.
I ease the vibe inside, no lube needed. She is scorching and wet, and I can feel the heat coming off her.
I ease my new silver friend in and out of her, working her up. Working her over while she is helplessly bound to my bed.
I don’t need to ask if she is okay. Every damn emotion is written all over her face. And her face is telling me that, if I don’t deliver that first orgasm quick, she is going to kick my ass. So I increase the speed and use my thumb on her clit to milk the pleasure from her.
She cries out, letting her pleasure pull her under.
When she finally comes to, she slumps over and smiles.
“Not so fast, princess,” I say. “We’re not done.”
I loosen the knot so she’s free to use her hands.
Yes, I most definitely have plans for them.
“This time, I want you to—”
Her phone buzzes.
We ignore it.
But it keeps going off and Tab looks worried.
“Go ahead, babe. But make it quick.” Famous last words.
It isn’t a fast call. Not at all.
Slowly, Dr. Payne’s words come back to me. Even some pieces of what Finn had to say. And I think I finally know what they were trying to tell me. I don’t need to be in control all the time. It is good to hand the reins over. And Tabby doesn’t need a protector; she needs a lover.
That’s exactly what I plan to be.
I also know we can do this. Together, we’ll get through it. We’ll get through everything.
As long as everything is out in the open.
After several long, excruciating minutes, Tabby walks back into the room with tears in her eyes.
Instantly, I know.
Everything is finally out in the open. Just not on my terms.
“Jules?” I ask, wondering if Foster finally broke his oath.
“No,” Tab says. “That was Michael.”
Jenna—that fucking goddamned traitor.
Chapter 16
“So tell me,” Tabby begins. “Was your newfound enthusiasm in the bedroom all just a ploy to get me to shut up?”
“What? No, of course not.”
“Well, you obviously didn’t mean what you said. Because here you are with this convoluted plan to keep the Richardsons out of Minneapolis. And all without telling me.”
“Tabby¸ let me explain.”
“Didn’t you think this would be an important piece of information to share?” she asks, but it clearly isn’t a question to be answered. “Do you know they were looking at property right by the studio?”
“I was trying to get them out.”
“How? Jesus, how?” Her tears are flowing.
“I had plans,” I say, unable to look her in the eyes.
“And in any of these plans, were you going to tell me, maybe see how I feel about the situation? Did you ever think I might run into Thomas while I was at the studio? No warning. Nothing. Because my big, bad boyfriend was already taking care of it.”
“I was going to tell you today before Jenna decided to fuck me over.”
“Great. So, you were in on this with Jenna?”
“No. Well, not like you think. No.”
“Michael called because he didn’t want me to be taken off guard. He wanted to prepare me. Empower me. But all you want to do is shut me down.”
“That’s not true.” I am trying, but there is no convincing her in this moment. Why, for the love of God, hadn’t I just told her last night?
Because I thought I knew best.
“It is true. It’s Noah’s way or the highway. You want to orchestrate everything you can touch. I’ll never be whole to you. Do you have any idea what that’s like? Having you tiptoe around me? Caring for me like a child?”
“Not true.”
“Admit it,” she says, and there is no stopping her now. “You think you need to protect me. Fix me. Well, I don’t want to be fixed. How about that? I’m fucked up like everyone else and I want you to be okay with it. I’m not going to break or go crazy. But what you did right there? You took away any choice I had. You took it away from me.”
“Tabby, I will do anything to make this up to you. Anything.”
She brushes past me. “I’m going to dance. Please don’t show up to the theater. And you should know, I won’t be home tonight.”
The complete three-sixty that happened in the last ten minutes has given me whiplash. I don’t know what to do or say. All I can think about is what I am going to do when I get my hands on Jenna. How could she have done this to me? I expected her tricks with Tab and Jules and even Foster.
But I have always looked out for her.
I thought I was different.
And then I realize the reason Jenna has always been so messed up, dependent, completely incapable of handling things. Because I didn’t give her a chance. For so long, I protected her. Enabled her unhealthy and destructive behavior.
Every-fucking-thing is blowing up in my face.
And I am to blame for all of it.
Chapter 17
“God, Noah.” Jenna comes storming into the living room shortly after Tabby left. “I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah, good looking out. I appreciate it.”
“It came up out of the blue and I couldn’t not tell him,” she says.
“Why not?”
“Because he deserved to be prepared.”
How does Jenna of all people get this when I never did?
“I was going to call you first, but Michael got to Tabby before I could call. Where is she?”
“I don’t know,” I say.
“Is she coming back?” Jenna honestly looks like she cares and I don’t have the strength to fight anymore, so I end the conversation.
“No idea,” I say.
***
Tabby hasn’t come back. It’s been absolute hell for five days, and my world has literally fallen down around me.
This morning’s phone call from my boss at the paper is pretty much icing on the cake.
“Noah,” he says. “I wanted to catch you in case you were planning on coming in today.”
“I’m sorry, sir. I called in on the sick line. I’m still not feeling up to coming in.”
“Are you sure this isn’t about the company resources you’ve been using on an unapproved story?” he asked.
“It was only unapproved because I wanted to make sure all my Ts were crossed before I brought it to your attention.”
“Noah, you aren’t even on the reporting team. We can’t let you go around abusing the system like this.”
But it was okay to use me and my free labor whenever it suited.
“I’m sorry to do this to you, especially when I know how much potential you have. But we have to terminate you,” he said. “We don’t have
a choice. Management is trying to make examples out of these situations.”
“So, I’m the example?” I asked.
“Afraid so,” he said.
Chapter 19
Losing my job is almost a relief. I’d been seriously doubting the move since the day I’d taken it. I actually hated being the newsroom bitch. I only pretended to like it because I had to let everyone know how capable and responsible I was. And because the professor got me the job.
Look where that got me.
Tabby’s days away from home have somehow turned into a month. I’ve hardly left the house since she’s been gone. For the first two weeks, all I really did was binge-watch crime shows and eat delivery pizza. Our place looked like a frat house.
Then I woke up and snapped out of it. I did the only thing I knew how to do at the time. I wrote. And played guitar. And went to church and temple. And meditated my ass off.
Foster leaks the news that Tabby is staying with them. It wasn’t that hard to figure out.
He also leaks the information that Tab is going back to Chicago. This time, I’m not happy with the cryptic messages, so I call Jules.
“Where is she?” I ask.
“At her parents’ house.”
“Why? What’s going on?”
“I’m not sure I should be telling you anything after the dumb shit you pulled on my girl.”
“What is it, J?”
“Apparently, Thomas did it again.”
“Did what again?” I ask, my stomach churning.
“Drugged a girl,” Jules says, cold and removed. It’s her own way of keeping it together. I know this is hurting her too. She’s watched Tabby go through so much.
“What? Why?” I have to take a breath before I can form a coherent sentence. “What does this have to do with Tab?”
“The attorney for the victim wanted to talk with Tabby.”
“But she can’t say much—not with her settlement,” I say. “I think there was a gag order to go along with it.”
“No, but she brought someone with her to help. Someone who can talk.”
“Who?”
“Finn Daley.”
My heart drops right into my gut.
That was fast.
“Yeah,” Jules continued. “Finn played hockey with Thomas. And he apparently has all kinds of skeletons in his closet. And Finn is ready to share.”
“Okay, good,” I say, not knowing what to think, but at least there is a logical reason for Finn to be with Tab. I can only hope it’s the only reason.
“It’s great,” she says. “You know, this might be her one shot at payback.”
“I just wish she would’ve told me,” I say.
“I’m sure she wished the same once you found out about the Richardsons,” Jules reminds me.
I know she’s right. Still, I can’t help the itching need I have to make a few calls, just to see if there is anything more that can be done to help Tab. But I know I can’t do that. This is Tabby’s life, and for better or worse, she has to live it.
***
I’m waiting for my girl when she gets back to Foster and Jules’ place. This time they both gave me the heads up. Damn, I’m lucky to have them.
I’ve been waiting since Tab left Illinois this morning, almost eight hours ago. I’m a fucking wreck.
Watching from the patio, I see that Finn is in the drivers’ seat. Of course he is.
Tabby jumps out of the car without so much as a peck on the cheek for the meathead. I blow out the air that I’ve been storing in my lungs for the past several hours. Finally, the nerves begin to subside. That has to be a good sign.
She opens the door and rushes in with an announcement that’s music to my ears.
“He’s going to trial for this one,” she says.
Tears flood my eyes and I can’t be embarrassed about it. Not after hearing this news. Finally. Finally she gets some kind of justice and that asshole will pay. And she did it all on her own.
Jules and Foster cheer and Tab high-fives them, but then she quickly turns to me.
“You did it,” I say. “You really did it. And all on your own. I’m so proud of you.”
She nods, fighting back her own tears, and opens her arms. I don’t wait for permission, I grab her and wrap her so tight, we can hardly breathe.
“I never want to do anything like that again,” she says. “Not without you.”
“You’ll never have to, Tab,” I say into her ear. “You’ll never have to.”
Chapter 20
Dr. Payne says that part of my problem is survivor’s guilt.
Oh yes, I have the good doctor on retainer now.
I don’t know what it is, my need to make things better for people who are in pain. For people like Tabby—and even Jenna—what happened to them wasn’t their fault. They had something taken from them.
And what’s crazy is, this whole time, I thought if I could fix them, help them, heal them, and then I’d be okay too. It’d be like some kind of cosmic karma.
I’m just now learning that it’s okay if I don’t have all the answers.
Actually, Dr. Payne is helping me with that too; Tabby is thrilled.
And our sexual adventure continues. In fact, I’m picking up Tabby up from the dance studio now.
“There’s a place I want to take you,” I tell her once she settles in the car.
“What kind of place?” she asks.
“It’s called the Pleasure Palace.”
“You want to take me to a sex toy shop?” She slaps my arm.
“Well, if we’re doing this thing together, then we may as well do it. Go big or go home.”
“That’s what she said,” Tabby sings.
“Cute. Very cute,” I reply.
“Are you for real?” she asks, still not quite believing all the changes I’ve made.
“I am.”
“Anything in particular strike your fancy?” she asks.
“Not sure yet,” I say. “But for you? Sky’s the limit.”
Tabby
That’s the way Noah would end the story. He’s a fan of Happy Ever After … For Now.
He likes to keep it real, and he actually likes the messy stuff. “Sometimes that’s the best part,” he says. A point well made in this story, I think.
I used to be the type to avoid messy at all costs—take the path of least resistance, settle, and be nice. Noah and I both learned the hard way that being nice isn’t the answer.
After my road trip with Finn to Illinois, Thomas did go to court and he did serve jail time. It might not have been to pay for what he did to me, but I still felt a sense of justice. It was something, and no matter how small my role, I helped put him there. And I knew I’d never be silenced again.
When it came to my personal life with Noah, I found my voice as well. I wasn’t lying when I said that I just wanted to be normal again. That I wanted to have everything with the man I loved.
For Noah, that Happy Ever After for Now works.
But not me, I want the whole thing. The white wedding and picket fence and perfect babies. And despite Noah’s preference in fiction, he’s taught me that I can have all those things in life—and that I deserve them.
And let me tell you, we are well on our way.
The end
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Continue reading for a sneak peek at Finn Daley’s story, TALK TO ME.
Talk to Me
Public Lives, Part 1©
By
Clare James
Amazon Link
Chapter 1
STAGGER-THROUGH (n.):
The first TV rehearsal with the camera rolling.
Casey
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I asked Jonathan, while checking out my new wardrobe in the mirror. “You can see
my areolas in this shirt.”
I dropped into the chair in one of the private green rooms Jonathan was able to snag for us and buried my face in my hands. I couldn’t believe that after all I accomplished in college — my nearly perfect GPA, the media awards and accolades, and the breaking news stories that actually made a difference in the community — I was here in whorewear trying out for a job as a KXAA Sports Girl.
Yes, despite our journalistic forewomen’s best efforts to get the Weather Bunnies of the 70s off the air, they had been reincarnated in the very peppy KXAA Sports Girls.
Go team!
“Trust me, you can’t see your areolas,” Jonathan said with a blush. “If you could, I’d be breaking out in a sweat by now.”
“Dude,” I said, peeking through my fingers. “You really need to get some, instead of lusting after my business all the time.”
“You should talk. How many months have you been here now? And I’ve yet to see anyone in your business.”
“That’s because you’re cockblocking me all the time.”
He rolled his eyes, but I wanted more. I was pissy and ready for a fight.
Jonathan was my best friend from UMD — actually, one of my only friends. I would like to believe it was because I was new to the Twin Cities and spent all my time working. But that’s not why. I had the tendency to rub people the wrong way.
“Whatever. If you didn’t have me, you’d be back in Duluth crying in your beer. You certainly wouldn’t have this opportunity land in your lap.”
I flipped him off in response, the mature and professional woman I was.
Jonathan and I worked on our college news program together before he graduated. As expected, he landed a video photog spot right away. At Minnesota’s highest ranking TV station, no less. It wasn’t a surprise. He killed it behind the camera.
Minneapolis/St. Paul is a market 15 news station, which is impressive in its own right. But to land the job right out of college without making any stops in Bumfuck, North Dakota? It was virtually unheard of. Most of us would land a position at a tiny town where the top news of the day would be the farm report or a kids’ spelling bee. Then you’d be expected to work around the clock for minimal pay, all the while praying for at least a few decent news stories to put on an audition reel. After that you’d start over at a slightly bigger station and so on and so forth. Then, if you were lucky, you’d work your way up into a top 20 market before hitting your thirtieth birthday.
