by Nikki Chase
She looked so strange. Up until literally hours previously, that woman was an outstanding member of the community, a pharmacist that everyone in town would trust with their medication.
And yet there she was, sitting in a police car like a common criminal. She didn’t look like she belonged there at all. God, I can’t imagine Christine in an orange jumpsuit. That would be mega weird.
At the same time, she hurt Jacob and I can’t forgive her for that. I haven’t forgotten all the other things she’s done, too. I hope she rots in prison for what she did to Max, not to mention what she was about to do to me if Jacob hadn’t arrived when he did.
Jacob saved my life.
Now, with him right behind me, holding me tight, I feel safer than ever. Not just because the cops have apprehended the person who’d been intimidating me for weeks, but also because I know now just how far Jacob would go for me.
For the first time in a long time, I feel like someone’s got my back. I don’t feel alone anymore.
I reach my hand behind me and run my fingers through Jacob’s hair. In response, he sighs contentedly.
I feel the heat of Jacob’s body on my back. His hard cords of muscles underneath his skin, the soft patch of gauze on his abs.
The cops took his blood-stained shirt as evidence, as well as his belt that he used to tie Christine’s hands.
When we were walking home, his arm around my shoulders, mine around his bare waist, the thought crossed my mind that I should confiscate what was left of his clothes and strip him bare. But I also felt like maybe we should get some much-needed rest after that wild ride to crazy town.
We collapsed into my bed as soon as we got inside my home. We didn’t even bother to shed or change our clothes.
But now, as Jacob kisses my shoulder and my neck, I start to feel like maybe sleeping can wait. In no time, my breathing becomes heavy. Wetness leaks out of me and pools in my panties.
Jacob’s hands start to roam, touching my belly, my tits, my hips. He kneads the flesh of my breasts, teases the sensitive peaks until they harden and poke through the fabric of my shirt.
“Are you sure you want to do this, with your wound?” I ask.
I no longer worry that Jacob won’t recover. The wound turns out to be shallow enough to miss Jacob’s internal organs. It’s going to leave a scar, but he’s going to be fine. Still, I don’t think that poor little piece of gauze is going to be able to withstand to the way he usually fucks me.
“Who says anything about involving my wound? I’m not that kinky,” Jacob says playfully.
A girlish giggle escapes my lips. But everything stops being funny when Jacob’s fingers reach the juncture of my thighs. He rubs me over my jeans and panties, which only intensifies the ache between my legs.
“Take off your jeans, and your panties too,” Jacob orders.
As usual, I comply. No question, no hesitation, even though I have no idea what he wants. As soon as I’ve wiggled out of my jeans and panties, Jacob places his long leg between mine, his powerful thigh forcing mine apart.
He kisses the back of my neck, sometimes nibbling and biting me. Meanwhile, his skilled fingers dance over my wet folds, creating sweet, sweet friction against my clit.
I moan as I let go, as I let myself really feel the sensations Jacob is creating within me. My anxiety melts away, my fears forgotten. All that matters is what’s happening on this bed, all I care about is what Jacob is doing to me.
Jacob shifts his fingers so they’re right over my clit, teasing and coaxing and stimulating me closer and closer toward the edge. He whispers, “Come for me, baby.”
As if I’ve been trained, Jacob’s voice pushes me over the edge. As I explode in his arms, he bites my neck hard, knowing how much I enjoy a little pain. I shudder and quiver until I’ve had enough.
I try to pull away from Jacob, but his strong, muscled arms keep me in place and his thigh keeps my legs open. He rubs my clit until he has squeezed out every last tremor out of my body.
Completely sated and exhausted, I fall asleep to Jacob stroking my hair. Right before I drift off, I hear him say, “I love you.”
Jacob
I look down and reward Jessica with a big smile. The visual alone is enough to make a porn star hang her head in shame and want to retire.
Jessica looks sexy as fuck, kneeling on the floor with my cock in her mouth. A red ring has formed around the base of my cock as her lipstick rubs off from the friction.
I love watching her like this. Submissive, pliant, eager to please and, above all, mine. Mine to touch, bite, and throw around. Mine to fuck. Mine to use however I please.
I love when she looks up from underneath her lush lashes, checking to see if I’m enjoying this, if she’s pleasing me with her service. I love how much she craves my approval.
I put one hand on her head and push her back against the wall. Now she can’t move. We’re going to see just how much she wants to please me.
“Lean back,” I order, my voice low and authoritative. “Hands behind your back.”
Jessica gazes at me, surrender and obedience in her eyes. Without saying anything, she does my bidding. It’s not like she can say anything with my rock-hard cock filling her small mouth and jamming her throat.
I start to fuck her mouth, sliding my cock in and out of her while all she can do is lean back and take it with her jaw wide open. Small lines appear on her forehead from the effort.
She’s completely helpless. She knows I can do anything I want to her, yet she trusts me to keep her safe, to protect her even as I ruin her.
It’s a strange feeling. I want to shield this woman, who’s literally on her knees for me, from anything that can hurt her. And yet, at the same time, I want to exact some pain on her myself, just to see how much she’d take for me.
It’s primal, animalistic. I can’t control it. I worry for her sometimes, but she loves it just as much as I do.
Just look at her, her black mascara smudged around her eyes, her red lipstick almost completely gone. She looks beautiful like this, like she belongs there, like she was made for sucking my cock.
I grunt and grab a fistful of her hair. I don’t have to move her head. She’s perfect where she is. I just want to make it clear to her that I can hurt her, I will hurt her, and she’ll take it.
Sure enough, I feel a sharp intake of air when I unblock her airway and let her breathe. She moans around my shaft, sending vibrations that electrify my entire body.
Once again, she looks up at me as my cock plunges in and out of her mouth. She’s saying something, but it’s unintelligible. I don’t need to hear a word from my fuck doll. A cock down her throat is the perfect way to keep her quiet.
Besides, I already know what she wants.
“No, you may not touch yourself.” I grunt. “You’re a good girl for asking. I’m glad you understand your pussy belongs to me. I’ll reward you later. But right now, there’s only one thing of mine that I want you to pleasure.”
I push myself deeper and deeper inside her throat, driving home the point I’m making. My cock should be the only thing in her head right now. Her throat wraps tightly around my cock, like a sleeve custom-made for me.
I feel my balls tighten. I feel like I’m about to burst. The way she submits to every perverted act I can think of, her gasps whenever I pull out to let her breathe, her…
Crash!
My eyes snap open. Immediately, I close them again to shield them from the sunlight that’s pouring in through the window of Jessica’s bedroom.
Was that just a fucking dream? Damn it. It was getting good.
I’m horny for real, though. I have a raging hard-on in my pants that’s demanding to be taken care of.
For a moment, I consider going back to sleep, but I just know that even if I start dreaming right away, I won’t just pick up where I left off. Unfortunately, that’s just not how dreams work.
I reach my hand over to the other side of the bed. Maybe Jessica can cont
inue that amazing blowjob in real life. There’s nothing like having my cock in a beautiful woman’s mouth the moment I wake up.
All I find on the other side of the bed is cold sheets. Jessica is gone and she’s probably been gone for a while now.
With my eyes still stubbornly shut, I randomly place my hand on the nightstand, slapping the wood surface with my palm until I hit my phone. I face away from the window and hold the phone in front of me. Squinting at the numbers on the screen, I realize it’s already past noon.
I may as well get up now if I’m not getting morning head in bed. I can compromise and get it in other locations in the house, or even outside.
As I prop myself up with my hands and blink to adjust my eyes to the brightness, a sharp pain penetrates my side.
Right. I almost forgot about that fucking stab wound in my abdomen.
Sure, I’m glad Christine didn’t succeed in her murder attempt, but it pisses me off that sex will be tricky for a while. Now that Jessica’s mine, my sex drive has gone through the roof. All I want to do is spread her legs and dive in, all day, every day.
The wooden floor of Jessica’s bedroom feels cool on my bare feet. What is she doing? I hear random bangs and crashes from the living room. I follow the noises down the hallway.
When I finally see what all the commotion is about, it just creates more questions in my head. Why is she throwing random things into cardboard boxes? The living room looks like a tornado has just ripped through it.
“It’s a little too early for spring cleaning,” I say as I lean on the doorframe leading into the living room.
“It’s not spring cleaning,” Jessica answers without looking at me. She’s sitting in the middle of a circle of cardboard boxes, paperback books, and stacks of files, like she’s a deity in a religion for paper products.
“Then what are you doing?”
“Packing.”
“Packing for what?” I frown. This is the first time I’m hearing about anything that requires such extreme packing behavior.
“I’m moving,” she says with her eyes glued on some bits of paper. Her hands are busy sorting the mountain of paper products into the cardboard boxes around her.
“What do you mean you’re moving?”
“It means I’m moving.” There’s a hint of annoyance in Jessica’s voice right now, like I’m supposed to already know about this, like we have discussed this before.
Only, we haven’t. I’d remember something like that.
“What, like, to my house?” I raise my eyebrow and smile at Jessica, hoping a little bit of humor would improve her mood and drag her out of whatever funk she’s in.
“No,” she says, as if there’s no explanation needed. I swear, as much as I enjoy Jessica’s sass, sometimes I wish she could be all sweet and submissive all the time, instead of just during sex.
“So…?” I prompt her to continue.
“What?”
“So where are you moving, then?”
“I don’t know. Somewhere else that’s not here.”
“As in, somewhere else that’s not Ashbourne?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“No, it really isn’t.” I step closer toward Jessica and stop at the edge of her circle of madness. “Christine has been apprehended, so she’s not a threat to you. You can stay here safely for as long as you want because Stan isn’t going to come after you. Why are you moving?”
“She’s going to tell everybody about how I’m a whore who used to work at a strip club. The next thing I know, I’ll be getting fired. I’d rather move before that happens.”
“You don’t know that’s what’s going to happen.”
“Yes, I do,” she insists. “Come on, haven’t you read the news? Ex-strippers don’t fare well in traditional professions, especially ones related to kids.”
“You’re not moving,” I say with finality.
“I am.” Jessica looks up at me from where she’s sitting on the floor, defiance glinting in her bright green eyes. “I’m leaving as soon as Max recovers.”
Jessica
“You’re being crazy,” Jacob says.
“No. I'm being the opposite of crazy. I'm being realistic.” I notice Jacob’s standing dangerously close to my favorite books, my teaching plans, and my important documents.
“You’re just going to run away, even though things may not turn out the way you’re afraid they would?”
“What makes you think I don’t know what’s going to happen?” I’m seriously getting annoyed here. Where does Jacob get off acting like he knows everything? What does he know about how girls like me survive anyway?
“Well, I don’t see a crystal ball anywhere,” he says.
“Ha-ha. I know what happens when people know I’m a stripper, okay? They treat me different.”
I’m glad I prepared a plan in case something like this happens. I’ve been hoarding cash and moving supplies, and now all that hard work is paying off. Moving is going to be a piece of cake.
“Were. You were a stripper. You're not one anymore.”
“You think that matters to the people I’m talking about? That shows just how much you know.” I roll my eyes. “You know that thing that happens when people learn you were in the military, and they thank you for your service and treat you extra nice? You were a Navy SEAL in the past, but people still do that, don't they?”
The lines on Jacob’s forehead deepen and his muscles become tense, but he says nothing. How dare he tell me how people are going to react when he obviously has no clue what he's talking about?
“You know I’m right. It doesn't matter if it's all in the past to you. People are still going to judge you for it.” I tear my gaze away from my books and cardboard boxes to look Jacob in the eyes.
I’m just being honest. I’m just being real. Surely, he can see that. I'm not trying to start an argument.
Jacob crouches down on the floor and starts moving my stuff out of the way.
“Hey! Don't do that!” I swat Jacob's hands away. “I know it doesn't look like it, but I have a system, okay?”
Jacob rests his elbows on his thighs and sighs.”You're being rash. You're in shock. Give it a couple of days, a couple of weeks. You’ll see.”
“You still don't get it, do you? I’ve given this a lot of thought. I started building my whole life here in Ashbourne under the assumption that I’d have to move sooner or later--probably sooner. I thought about what I’d do if something like this was to happen.”
“Really?” Jacob cocks his head and raises his eyebrow.
He levels his piercing gaze at me, making my heart jump in my chest. The corners of his lips curl up to form a cocky smirk. Jesus, I wish I could tell him to stop looking at me like that. It'll only make it hard for me to stick to my original plan and leave him behind.
“You're telling me,” Jacob says, “you're telling me that you've thought about what you’d do if your neighbor turned out to be crazy and tried to peel off your face just because you used to be a stripper? Somehow I doubt that.”
“Don't be such a smart-ass. You know what I mean. I’ve always had a plan for when people would inevitably find out about my past.” My voice is soft, but that's only because I'm trying to suppress the anger that's threatening to boil over.
“I just think you're being rash,” he says. “You weren't talking like that this morning.”
“I was also drugged out of my mind this morning.”
Again, Jacob sweeps my things away to make space for himself right in front of me.
“I said don't do that!” I shout. I can't keep my anger at a simmer anymore. Jacob's pushed me far enough.
“It doesn't matter because you're not moving,” he says calmly, his voice deep and decisive. He really thinks he can order me around about something this important. We're not in the middle of one of our bedroom games right now.
“Do you think it's about you? Is that it?” I al
most can't recognize the voice that comes out of my mouth. It's shaky, high-pitched, and uncontrollably rushed.
A little voice warns me I’m about to say something I’d regret, but it's too late. I'm past the point of no return.I'm not going to mince my words. This is going to get ugly.
“It's not you, it's me. Is that what you need to hear? This is not about you. This is about me. My life, my career,” I say.
“It's not that I want to ghost you again. Oh yeah. I know how much of a big deal it still is to you that I left without saying goodbye three fucking years ago, because my mom had a terminal illness.
“Well, Jacob, I’m sorry for hurting your delicate feelings. That wasn't my intention. I had no idea it was going to cause anything like that, because what I did was totally normal for one-night stands. You're the abnormal one for getting so obsessed with it.
“Maybe that's why you're such a manly man during sex. Not because you're actually into that kind of stuff, but because you need to regain some kind of control to balance things out, to make yourself feel like the man again.”
I’m almost panting from the effort of getting all those words out. I feel sick immediately. My hands turn cold.
What have I done? Jacob has been nothing but a reliable rock to me. All he did was disagree with my decision to leave town.
Jacob stares at me like he can see right into my soul. He's frowning and gritting his teeth. He takes a deep breath, then another, keeping his gaze firmly locked on mine.
It feels almost physically painful. I continue to hold Jacob's gaze out of sheer stubbornness, but I wince for a split second and I know he sees it. The moment feels like it lasts forever, but it's probably just a few seconds in reality.
“You know, I say fucking ugly things too sometimes when I’m pissed off. And then I’m too proud to admit it once I’ve gotten all that anger out of my system,” Jacob says.
“If you think you know me—”
“Listen to me,” Jacob cuts me off, his tone telling me he means business. “I let you speak before, so now it's my turn.”
I raise my eyebrows and stare at him in open defiance. Sure, I’ll be quiet and listen, but I don't have to like it.
