I do as he instructs then stand, leaning against the wall, half naked, watching as he sets up lines for us again.
He pauses and looks up at me. “More?” he asks. His eyebrows raised as he sits with the tube poised mid-air. He holds it out to me.
“More,” I agree, moving towards him before kneeling on the floor beside him.
“Good girl,” he says approvingly, pulling my hair back again and kissing me behind my ear as I lean forward to sniff up the line of powder. “Good girl.”
Thirteen
10 months since the note
3 months as Jeff’s girl
I think I might be in love with Jeff. He makes me feel like I matter and takes care of me without asking for much in return. So, it feels like maybe he's in love with me too.
I know I don’t have much to compare it to, but he makes me feel special. I’m so lucky he took a liking to me, and so grateful to Tahlia for introducing us. We’ve been together an entire three months, and each day just gets better and better. And he’s an amazing lover. Once again, I don’t have a comparison, but seriously, I can’t imagine anyone could know more about pleasing a woman than he does. I love being his girl.
At first, I was really concerned he was going to get me pregnant. I mean, he wasn’t using any protection, and we were sleeping together daily. Then he told me if I got pregnant, it couldn’t be his because he’d been in some sort of accident when he was younger that means he can’t have children.
I think that’s kind of sad, but I guess it’s for the best. I don’t feel like I’m old enough to have kids, and I really don’t think that drugs and kids go together. It’s one thing we don’t have to worry about. So in a way, I’m thankful.
We don’t always use drugs while we make love, but it’s best when we do. A chemical high and an emotional high mixed together is mind blowing. My orgasm is more intense and longer lasting, and I feel like I want to keep going forever.
Jeff has a rule with drugs. He doesn’t do what he deals. He also never deals out of his house. His supplier gives him ecstasy and ice to sell, and he gets coke for recreational use. He gets his pot from Ron, which is a great way to come down if we’ve had a bit too much coke.
I always enjoy the pot runs because I can visit with Tahlia, who is amazed that Jeff and I are still together. I haven’t said anything to her about how I’m feeling towards him. But hearing her say those things makes me very happy.
To try to earn my keep, I’ve been helping Jeff sell. He says that because I’m young and a girl, I’m not going to get questioned as much as he would be approaching groups of young people.
I have to admit that it does look pretty suss, having an almost thirty-year-old man hang around a group of youths and hand them things. Even when it’s done as a hug or a handshake, it’s still really obvious.
But with me, it’s easy. There are certain places where local bands play all age gigs regularly, as well as the local rave circuit and a chain of nightclubs with bouncers on Jeff’s payroll. On top of that we have regulars who call up asking for a drop off. Most of the time supply doesn’t meet demand.
Tonight we’re in a night club and Jeff is sitting on a stool up against a mirrored wall with a small ledge running the length of it that you put your drinks on. He’s holding a JD and coke, but he’s not drinking. He only buys it for show. What he’s doing is watching me to make sure I’m safe as I move through the crowd, collecting money and distributing pills. I love having his eyes on me. Sometimes I make out with a random guy so he can watch and pretend to get all jealous. It’s kind of our thing, and the sex is super hot afterwards.
I move through the crowd, greeting buyers like we’re old friends. Most nights, I sell everything I have, but tonight I’m left with a stash of Es.
“What’s going on?” Jeff demands when I return to him after doing yet another lap of the crowd.
“I don’t know. Hardly anyone’s buying. Maybe they’d prefer something else?”
“No way. Someone else is here selling.” He stands up straight and scans the crowd, eyes narrowed. This is his turf.
“You know, we’ve already made a lot of cash. We could always take a break. Do a mollie or two ourselves? We could re-live that first night when we kissed for hours.” I press myself against him and run my fingers up and down his chest, hoping he’ll forget work for a while and give in to having fun.
His eyes flash as he turns his attention towards me and grabs me roughly by the arm. “What are the rules, Paige? You never take while you’re working. You’ll get hooked on your own stash and fuck shit up. Never do what you deal—understand?” I nod. His fingers digging painfully into my flesh as he holds me too tight. “You must have a clear head at all times, or you’ll get caught. I’ll get caught.” He jams his fingers into my pocket and removes the pills I have left along with the money. Using my body as a shield, he checks that everything adds up. “Don’t ever ask me to do that again. Don’t make me find someone to replace you. I like you, and I don’t want to do that. But I will if you make me.” His eyes move from side to side as he looks into mine.
I nod vigorously, and he hooks his finger in the waistband of my jeans. Pulling me up against him, he leans close to my ear and speaks in a low intimate voice. “That’s my girl. I’m not anywhere near finished with you yet.”
My knees quiver slightly as my insides dance around at the thought of what else he wants to do to me. “You can trust me,” I whisper. “I won’t ask again.”
He nods slightly and grabs the back of my head with his hand, kissing me roughly in a display of pure manhood. “Take me home,” I beg, wanting to be alone with him.
His hand clenches in my hair, and he pulls, jerking my head back, and licking up my neck, biting firmly, almost painfully on my ear. “I think I’ll take you here,” he growls. “Show you who’s boss.”
Fear and desire mix uncomfortably as he leads me out the back door to where we parked the car, not loosening the grip he has on my arm for a moment.
I’ve never had him be so rough with me before. I feel stupid for being so bold and angering him. I wish now, that I could take it all back. I forgot myself for a moment. I should always do as I’m told.
“Fucking bastard,” Jeff grumbles as he stops dead in his tracks and releases my arm. “Stay here.”
Confused, I look to see where he’s going and notice a scrawny looking guy, a little older than me, leaning up against the wall of the club. A cigarette hangs between his lips as he blatantly exchanges drugs for money.
I shake my head at his lack of discretion and fold my arms over my chest. “Idiot,” I say to myself.
Jeff moves over to stand beside him, and the guy turns to him with a self-confident grin, obviously assuming Jeff is a new customer.
He turns to Jeff and shows him his stash, asking how many he wants.
Jeff gives him one of his most charming smiles before his arm shoots out, and he clasps his hand around the guy’s throat, slamming him against the wall. All I can hear is a low threatening growl as Jeff speaks into his ear. The pills fall to the ground and scatter around the pavement, causing the group of buyers to drop to the concrete, grab what they want and take off for the club.
I start to edge my way closer, my eyes wide as I watch the panicked look on the guy’s face while his eyes bug out, and he struggles to breathe.
“Don’t ever let me catch you dealing around here again,” Jeff spits, digging around in the guy’s pockets and taking out the wad of cash. “This is mine. You stole from me tonight.”
He tries to shake his head and voice his protest, but Jeff’s grip is too strong. Only strangled sounds come out.
A moment later, Jeff releases him. The kid sucks at the air, trying to get his breath back while he rubs at his throat.
“If you ever see my face again. You’d better run,” Jeff growls, pulling his fist back then landing a punch in the guy’s guts. I hear a loud ‘oomph’ sound as he doubles over and slides down the wall.
Whoa. I take
a step forward, expecting that to be the end of it. But it’s not. Jeff grabs the guy’s head and slams it into the wall.
Bile rises in my throat as I watch Jeff kick him repeatedly, continuing even though the guy is on the ground, curled up in the foetal position.
He seems too still, and I hope to god that he’s just passed out. “Jeff,” I call out, trying to grab his attention and make him stop. “Jeff!”
He pauses and looks over his shoulder at me, his face dark and stormy. It scares the living shit out of me.
The young guy moans, covered in blood and lying still on the concrete at his feet. At least he’s still breathing.
“I need you,” I say, trying to appeal to his softer side. The side he shows when we’re alone.
With one last kick to the kidneys, Jeff spits on him then turns towards me.
“He’s all yours,” he says calmly. Mine? What am I supposed to do with him? But then I notice the bouncer from the back door standing not far from us.
The bouncer nods once and moves to check on the half dead drug dealer while Jeff strides towards me and ushers me into his car as if this is a normal occurrence. “Let’s get out of here.”
My limbs feel heavy and I stumble as my feet refuse to move at the speed Jeff drags me; it only seems to make him more furious. He opens the passenger door and deposits me roughly inside. I just manage to get my feet tucked safely inside when he slams the door and stalks his way over to his side of the car.
We drive home in complete silence. I have no idea what I should do or say; if he’s angry with me or at that kid for selling on his turf. I don’t think he’s capable of hurting me, but at the same time I can’t be sure. My mother is a well respected accountant, no one would have picked her as abusive, yet she did it all the time.
The moment we arrive home. I reach for my door handle to get out. “Wait,” he commands. So I do, an all too familiar fear snaking up my spine.
And you’re no better.
My mother’s words shout inside my head while Jeff gets out of the car and locks me inside, standing a few metres away with his phone pressed to his ear. I don't dare move. I've been in this kind of situation enough times to know that obedience is my best bet. So I wait quietly, watching as he runs his hand back and forward over his head when he speaks. He’s agitated, and as much as he is scaring me, I can’t help but admire how strong and attractive he is. It saddens me that someone I’ve only known to be kind and giving can have such a dark side to them. But it doesn’t surprise me. Am I destined to attract these people?
After almost half an hour, he puts his phone away and opens my door, holding his hand out for me to take. He still isn’t smiling. His anger is rolling off him in waves, but he seems in quiet control.
I take my cue from him and place my hand in his without speaking, without smiling. I make eye contact and try to silently tell him that everything will be OK. But I don’t really know that do I? I mean, what if he’s really hurt that guy?
Once inside, he closes and locks the front door, still holding my hand as he does. I simply stand by, waiting and watching, unsure of what I should do right now. When my mother was like this, I would go to my room and stay as quiet as I could, hoping to avoid her wrath. But he’s holding too tight for that, and we share a room. So there isn’t really anywhere for me to go.
I’m standing between him and the door, and he edges closer, pinning me between him and the cool wood. He reaches up and wraps his hand around my jaw so his thumb is on one cheek, and his fingers are on the other. He tilts my head up and meets my eyes.
We say nothing. His are searching, challenging, but I hold his gaze and keep my breath steady. After what seems like an age, he crushes his mouth against mine, kissing me fiercely as if he’s trying to somehow absorb me.
One hand snakes around my waist and pulls me tightly against him, while the other grabs tufts of my hair at the base of my skull and tugs. It hurts. Still holding me tightly, he walks us over to the dining room table then spins me around so he’s behind me. His kisses and heavy breathing move along my jaw and neck, turn into firm sucks, then painful bites.
I close my eyes tightly and breathe. I just need to keep calm.
He pulls my shirt over my head and drops it on the floor, his hands curling around me to knead at my breasts. There is nothing gentle about what he is doing, but even though I’m afraid, I’m walking that fine line between wanting to stay and wanting to run.
I suck my breath involuntarily when he pinches my nipple, the pain more than I’m comfortable with. He removes his hands from my front and pushes me forward so I’m bent over the table, my hot breath making fog circles on the smooth surface.
Still, he hasn’t said a word. It’s strange because he normally talks a lot when we’re together, always telling me how much he wants me and what he’s about to do. The silence and not knowing what he’s planning is driving me crazy, but I’m not sure if it’s in a good way. I think the best word to describe how I feel right now is unsure.
He pulls my pants roughly down my legs, and I obligingly step out, making sure I stay glued to the tabletop. Something tells me he wants me a very specific way, and I’m not willing to risk having his desire turned against me in rage. Compliance is key in these situations.
He moves my feet apart with a push of his and for a few moments, he does nothing. I hear him crouching down, then he places his hands at the very top of my thighs and pushes my legs wider.
It’s the first time I can hear something from him; the deep breathing of arousal. A familiar throbbing starts between my legs as I wait, surprised when the anticipation begins to excite me.
I feel his breath first, and then his tongue as he starts at my clit and drags his tongue back, all the way to my anus, where he spends a bit of time rimming my hole. I’m shocked that it feels amazing, panting as I struggle to maintain focus.
He lets out a moan as his fingers reach up, and he teases the entrance of my now dripping pussy. He slides back and forwards before pushing them inside me, pulsing them in and out while he continues to work my arse with his tongue.
I’m close to exploding when he pulls both his fingers and his mouth away from me and stands. I hear him removing his pants and the sound of crinkling foil. I whimper. Then it sounds as though he’s putting on a condom, which isn’t something he normally does.
When he steps between my legs, he reaches between them with his hand and inserts his fingers into my depths, dragging them out and up over my anus, where he circles me with a little pressure, probing at my tightness.
I hold my breath, feeling fairly certain about what he wants to do. I’m not sure I want this.
He presses his cock against my other hole, and I let out an unhappy whimper. It’s completely unintentional, and I wish to god it hadn’t escaped my lips. I hear him blow a short, hollow, laugh out his nose, and I breathe a sigh of relief when he pushes himself inside my pussy instead.
The relief floods through my body and makes the whole experience feel so much more intense. I moan as he plunges into my depths, over and over again. My fingers squeak against the table as I press against it, griping my insides tight around him. I’m so close to coming.
When he suddenly pulls out, I whimper again. I want to come. I was almost there.
He runs his hand between my legs, probing my insides with his fingers before moving again towards my back entrance. He presses his finger lightly at my opening, testing my resistance.
“Relax,” he whispers. The first sound of his voice throughout this whole encounter echoes throughout the quiet of the house. I let out another breath as he repeats himself. “Relax.”
He pushes his finger inside, and the sensation is a mixture of pleasure and discomfort. I do my best to stay calm and relax as he said. I can imagine that fighting it will cause the discomfort to win, and I don’t want that right now.
Removing his finger, he presses his tip up against it, parting my skin with his hands as he starts to push in. “I’m
going slow. Breathe, Paige. Relax.”
I’m trying. I’m trying so hard to relax, but this doesn’t feel so great. Slowly, he pushes himself, in and out, farther and farther each time until suddenly, the discomfort turns into an overwhelming sense of pleasure.
“Ohhhhh!” I moan as he moves back and forth. My core is throbbing, threatening to explode at any moment.
“Play with yourself,” he commands in a whisper.
I feel too frozen to move right now. I'm scared that the moment I do, this won’t feel so good anymore.
“Play with yourself,” he demands, his voice an explosion.
I force myself to move my arm, adjusting myself slightly so I can get my hand between my legs. The moment I touch myself, I’m catapulted into a state of pure ecstasy that causes me to explode, a burst of warm liquid surprises me as it flows out over my hand.
I call out my orgasm and go to remove my hand, but Jeff stops me.
“Keep going. I want to feel your fingers inside you,” he growls. His voice ragged and thick with his own need to come.
I push my fingers inside myself as he continues to move inside me. I can actually feel him there through the thin wall between the two holes.
Finally, he pushes in hard and deep and holds himself there, a strangled moan escaping his throat as I feel him pulse inside me. His fingers dig painfully into my hips as he holds me there, frozen, with my own hand halfway inside me.
When he pulls out, I’m not sure if I should move from the table, but I do remove my hand and wait to see what he’s going to do next. As he walks towards the garbage bin and removes the condom, I push myself up and turn to face him.
“Go and take a shower,” he orders, his voice completely devoid of feeling as he walks over to the sink and washes his hands. “I’ve got some more calls to make.”
Tears prick at the backs of my eyes as I nod quickly before I pick up my things, taking them with me to the bathroom. Once the shower is on, and I’m standing under the warm stream, I lean my head up against the tiles and cry. I’m confused and don’t know how to feel about what just happened. Even though I came, I don’t think I ever want to repeat that sexual experience again.
Struggle to Forever: a friends to lovers duet Page 74
