unStrapped

by Nina G. Jones

  “Slide onto my cock, Shy.”

  I brace my hands on the desk behind me and glide myself over his hardness. A cry erupts out of my throat as he enters me from that angle. He is so deep inside of me, creating a feeling of unescapable, painful fullness. Even though I am on top of him, I am in a position of surrender. The crook of his elbows support the crook of my knees as I push my hands back against the desk, gaining leverage to ride his cock. He pulls my hair back, exposing my neck for his mouth much like a vampire would.

  My wobbly moans echo throughout the hollow halls of the house as Taylor sucks on my nipples, my back arching in response and causing his cock to rub on a point inside of me that takes me over the edge. I remember that I am supposed to request his permission and so pointlessly I cry out, “Taylor…Sir…fuck…may I…may I!” I quiver as my body quakes around him, and then I melt, curling forward into his arms, his hardness still inside of me.

  “You asked too late,” he says firmly.

  “I asked.”

  Taylor stands up with me in his arms, as I clench him for stability. Slowly I slide my legs to the floor, and he powerfully turns me and presses me down to the desk. He shoves his fingers through my hair, grabbing at the roots, and kicks my legs open, making me completely available to him.

  A sharp sting spreads through my sensitive pussy as he slaps it from behind. He does it again. Instinctively, I try to lift my head but he presses it harder to the desk. Once the stinging subsides, a heat builds again, blood rushes to the area, awakening it for his pillaging.

  His grip on my head vanishes, but quickly his hands return, this time, wrapping his tie around my eyes.

  “Don’t move,” he says. Then there is quiet, except for the sound of his footsteps leaving the room. I wait, already having fucked up by climaxing without asking. His footsteps return, my hearing peaks as I use it for clues to discover what Taylor has it store for me.

  He’s behind me again. And then a cold, smooth hardness slides into me. The cold contrasts the heat. The intense firmness contrasts the softness of my sexuality. He said he would take all of my holes. He’s taken my mouth, he’s taken my pussy. With my face shoved into the table and the glass dildo inside of me, I know what is to come next.

  He’s been slow with that part of me. I haven’t even scratched the surface of all the things I want to do to you. His words let me know today he’ll be checking a new item off of the list.

  He spreads me open, his warm tongue preparing me, soothing me as it glides along the entrance. My own deep breaths flood my ears as I clench the desk in nervous anticipation.

  He generously glides lube where his tongue was previously. Then a finger, then two. Finally, his smooth tip slowly enters. Inch by inch, he allows me to accommodate him. And now I understand why he has put the dildo in my pussy, it fills me and it contrasts the unfamiliar feeling of his cock in my ass. His fingers massage my scalp, his dominance softening to comfort me.

  When he is about halfway inside of me I feel a sharp jolt of intense pain, like I could split in two. I jerk, but Taylor holds me down. “Shhh,” he coaxes, as if he has done this a million times and knows exactly what to expect. Just as quickly as the sharp, splitting jolt came, it is gone. I pant for air as I recover from the intense pang. And as I do, he is able to slide into me a bit faster. Finally, he is fully inside of me.

  I moan nonsense in an attempt to articulate the sensation of being completely filled in both sexual openings. He gently rocks back and forth, pulling out a little more each time. I clench at the edge of the desk, with moans that quickly turn into cries of his name.

  It is so tight, so unrelenting. I feel every ridge of his cock inside of me. There is no way he can last much longer. His grunts and groans are low, coming from the very pit of his sexual desires, like kicked up sediment.

  I call out so loudly, I wonder if Harrison can hear us from the guesthouse, but there is no other way to handle this feeling. It is the opposite of emptiness, but it’s not fullness. Fullness implies there may be some room left. The word is not absolute enough. There is there is nothing left. Taylor has taken it all.

  His thrusting speeds and becomes vicious as a tear trickles from my eye from the sheer intensity of his conquering of my remaining virginity. But it only lasts for a few thrusts as his voice hits a low, grumbling, vibrato. Taylor comes in my ass, punctuating the climax with a few deep staccato thrusts into me. He collapses onto my back, his heaving chest muscles provide a soothing lullaby after the violence of his ravenous sexual plunder.

  He has my everything. I have nothing left to give on this night. But I don’t worry. This won’t be all, because he always finds new ways to take and I always find more to give.

  Chapter 20

  A distinct soreness down below rouses me from my sleep the next morning. Taylor’s not in bed, but he should be somewhere in the house since he’s working from home today. I let out a pleasant yawn as I extend my limbs, rustling the sheets and stirring up Taylor’s comforting scent from his pillow. It brings a smile to my face. After the office and a late dinner, I slept soundly in a pit of darkness. No dreams, no nightmares. A complete resting of the mind.

  The nightmare still now only comes about once a week, and it’s losing its vividness. I still live with my feelings of ambivalence towards what we did to Eric, but even those have dulled. I have to live my life. I have to look ahead at my future. Eric is dead and no amount of worry or regret can change that. The danger is gone and now Taylor and I have space to work on the wounds that have been left behind.

  I throw on a robe and follow the scent of coffee to the kitchen. Taylor is throwing on his suit jacket in haste.

  “You’re leaving?”

  “I was just about to go to the bedroom to let you know. I had to call an emergency meeting.”

  “Is everything alright?”

  “Yes, one of our biggest overseas factories was hit by a storm. Tons of damage. It disrupts the supply chain, but we’ll just have to work around it.”

  “Shit.”

  “I don’t know when I’ll be back. What are your plans for today?”

  “Oh, I guess I’ll get around to the wedding stuff. Workout. I can make us dinner.”

  “Dear god.”

  “Not funny, Taylor,” I smirk.

  “Alright, gotta go,” he says starting for the door.

  “You better start practicing kissing your wife before you leave for work.”

  He spins on his heels, circling back to me, and kisses me on the forehead. “I’ll see you later. And I’ll be thinking about last night all day.”

  “This time, try to keep your mid-meeting boners to a minimum.”

  “I think the stress will help with that.”

  “Love you.”

  Taylor winks at me and is gone in seconds.

  The house feels so cavernous when his booming presence is not there to fill its endless halls. I am happy that my entry into his life has made him a more accessible human being, I truly am. But sometimes, I long for the Taylor who never ever wanted to leave his house, who shielded himself in its walls. That way, I wouldn’t have to share him. But I know that’s a greedy thought, and I know that old Taylor is a desperately lonesome Taylor.

  I grab a binder full of table linens and napkin samples, flipping though the squares as I sip on a fresh cup of coffee. The singular sound of pages flipping is violently interrupted by the ring of my cell phone.

  Shit, it’s Acosta.

  “Hello?”

  “Ms. Ball? It’s Detective Acosta.”

  “I know. Hi.”

  “Hello. Is this is a good time to chat?”

  “Sure, I guess it’s as good as any.”

  “My apologies for not getting back to you sooner. I have been waiting to hear back from multiple agencies.”

  “I understand you are busy. I just want to know if we have any news on him. If I should worry that he’s back in the country.”

  “First things first, if we get any news
of re-entry, we would tell you immediately. Frankly, we would grab him very quickly, but even still we would alert you. As far as any news, I am sorry to say at this point my contacts at Interpol have nothing. They did find some video surveillance of him at a bus station in Rio, but then that’s it.”

  “Do people just vanish like this? How can this be?” This lying thing is starting to get terrifyingly easy. Taylor is rubbing off on me.

  “I am afraid they do. But, eventually they slip. They miss their family, friends, their home life and they make a few calls. Or they tell someone who they think they can trust about their past and that person tips the police. My point is people do disappear, but they also reappear. However, you are safe.”

  “Eric is not everybody. He is smarter than the average criminal.”

  “He is, but that intelligence often leads to arrogance.”

  “So, how does this usually work? Should I move on and wait to hear from you? I trust you are doing what you can, and I am about to get married and I want to move on with my life. If you promise me I am safe from him, I think I can.”

  “You are engaged to Mr. Holden? Congratulations.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Forgive me if I am out of line, but this must be difficult for the family. Knowing what his brother did to you.”

  “We haven’t told them it was me.”

  “Oh…”

  “I just couldn’t. I haven’t told many people.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to assume.”

  A call beeps on the other line. A quick glance reveals it’s Rick again. The call jolts me out of my victim façade for a moment. “I…uh…of course you didn’t.”

  “There is something strange about this Eric.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “His family, besides Taylor, won’t cooperate. Anyone who we could get a hold of hasn’t seen him in years. We can’t find any employment, though I assume with his family wealth, that’s understandable. For all intents and purposes, he seemed to have vanished off the face of the earth for several years until shortly before he attacked you. People rarely disappear once, but to do so twice. Hmmm…”

  My mouth opens as I search for words. What would be the natural reaction to his curiosity? What would I say if I knew nothing?

  “Do you think that has something to do with the case?

  “Not sure. Only, it’s not possible that no one has seen him these past years. And whoever did might be the key to finding where he is now. So keep your ears open, you never know what you might hear.”

  “I haven’t heard anything…”

  A chime alerts me to a voicemail.

  “Oh, I am just musing out loud here. Just trying to find where he slipped up.”

  “Well, I have to go, someone is calling on the other line.”

  “Of course. I’ll keep in touch with any new developments.

  I slam the phone on the counter as I take a deep breath. Could Acosta be onto Eric’s other identity? As far as I know, the only people who know that Eric is Evan Sumner are Taylor and me. Lord help us if someone else out there knows.

  Then I remember the voicemail. What does Rick want? I debate even listening to the message. Maybe I should just completely shut him out for now while I continue to work on my new life. But Rick is not some asshole who dumped me. Rick was good to me, he was as understanding as any ex could have been, and it wouldn’t be right for me to shut him out like he was some jerk. I was the one who did him wrong.

  I brace myself for the friendly voice I haven’t heard in so long. I forget how well I know him until he utters the first word. His voice is glum and quavering.

  Hey, Lala—Shyla. It’s Rick. Listen, I have been debating whether or not I should even be calling you, but I think you should know. You are probably wondering why I called a few weeks ago. Dad had a stroke. I know you were close with him and I called, but I didn’t leave a message. I should have.

  He pauses.

  I’m calling again because he passed away a few days ago. It’s all so sudden. My mom’s not…Anyway the funeral is in an hour, and I thought about it, and if something happened to your mom, I would want to know. So…I am letting you know. And you are welcome to come to the services. It would be nice to see you there. It’s at the church my family always dragged us to on Easter. If not, I totally understand. I just thought you should know.

  Click.

  I stand in the kitchen for a few moments stunned by the death of Rick’s father. He was always so jolly, and such a welcoming man. I can’t believe he’s gone. Guilt strikes as soon as the initial shock dampens. Rick’s dad, his mom, they were like family to me, and when I left Rick, I left all of them without even saying goodbye. But how else was I supposed to go? Breaking up is already difficult as it is. I thought a clean break would be the smartest way for Rick and I to part, but now I am wondering if it was too harsh of us. To let so many years just dissolve as if they never happened.

  Of course I will go to the service. I glance at the clock and estimate how much time I have to get dressed and to the church. I only have 45 minutes to get there. I quickly a shower and throw on the most modest black dress I can find, pin my hair back, and go easy on the makeup. I assume there will be tears.

  Shyla:

  Hey, did you drive Taylor to the office? If you are by the house I could really use a ride.

  Harrison:

  I did, but I am on my way back to the house to take care of some things for Taylor. It can wait. I’ll take you.

  Shyla:

  You are a LIFESAVER.

  On my way out of the bedroom, I pass the jewelry dish on the dresser. My beautiful sapphire ring winks at me as I reach out for it, but then I stop. This is not the time or place to tell Rick that I am engaged. It would be unfair to spring that news on him today.

  Harrison pulls up to the church with just ten minutes to spare. I spot Rick’s mother, Karen, hunched over as Rick’s sister Lucy escorts her into the church.

  “Keep going,” I frantically instruct Harrison.

  He eases up on the brakes and coasts past the church. Rick’s family is a blue collar, no nonsense bunch. And again, I realize being driven up to the front of the church in a Bentley owned by my new fiancé is callous at best.

  “Just go a couple of more blocks, I’ll walk. Thank you.” Harrison, always tactful, doesn’t ask and simply complies.

  ***

  I’m actually relieved to arrive just in the nick of time. It allows me to collect myself and scan the crowd for familiar faces. This was sprung on me so unexpectedly, that I didn’t really have time to consider some of these people may no longer like me. Rick is forgiving, but so often those who are close to us take longer to forgive those who have betrayed us.

  I slide into an empty pew about halfway into the large cathedral. The organ music somberly plays as the remaining stragglers take their seats. I scan my phone, just three minutes. It’s then I feel the hand on my shoulder, and look up to see those amber eyes, reddened from grief. There is no tension, no awkwardness as I expected. Instead, I am overcome with love and sadness for Rick. He was close with his father, which was something I was always a little jealous of—happily jealous, but still.

  You don’t spend years of your life with someone for it to become nothing. You don’t grow up with someone, from a young adult to a woman, and then go cold. There is so much history, too much history to just lock away. I stand up and simultaneously, we offer a hug to each other. Rick pulls me in, his long arms wrapping around my frame that has shrunken since we last saw each other. His smell brings back a host of memories and feelings I had forgotten. Friday pizza nights, morning pillow fights, the way he used to nibble at crux of my hip to wake me up, the way would would sneak into the bathroom and throw cold water over the shower door to terrorize each other. Those things all seem so distant, so innocent. Rick and I were just two kids having fun.

  Rick feels larger, but I think that’s only because I am smaller. Nonetheless, it r
eminds me that we’ve changed in the months since we have seen each other; we’re not kids anymore. Things aren’t so carefree and simple. We have both had to face tremendous pain since last seeing each other.

  The embrace is warm and it lingers. Rick misses me, I can feel it, and I miss him too. He was one of my best friends. Our reunion has triggered a revisiting of the emotions Rick seems to have been containing until we met again, and he sobs quietly in my arms.

  “Rick, I am so sorry. About your dad. About everything.”

  “Thank you for being here. Come sit with us.”

  “I shouldn’t.”

  “You’ll always be family.”

  “I know, but I don’t feel right,” I whisper, “coming here like this and sitting upfront. I don’t deserve to.”

  “Deserve? Of all days, let’s not talk about who deserves what. Life is too short.”

  I look around and realize everyone is sitting, waiting for Rick and I to finish. I nod, wanting all eyes off of me and unwilling to hold up the service any longer.

  Rick guides me by the small of my back to the pew where his mother and sister are sitting. As soon as Lucy looks up to me her eyes widen.

  “Shyla, it’s been a while,” she whispers, giving me a stiff hug.

  “Yes, I am so sorry about Big Bob.” Yup, that’s what we all called the 6’5” teddy bear of a man.

  “Thank you. Mom, look who’s here.”

  Karen looks up from the program and it’s like she sees a ghost. “Shyla. Wow. Rick didn’t tell me you were coming.”

  “I wasn’t sure if she was going to make it,” Rick interjects.

  “You’re joining us?” She asks, her tone straight down the middle. She could be a poker champ if she wanted.

  “Yes, Rick found me in the back and insisted. I am so sorry.”

  She nods and turns to face the pulpit. I knew this was a bad idea. Dammit, Rick.

  Chapter 21

  “I should go home,” I tell Rick after the service, standing on the church steps. The service was beautiful and emotional, but the tension I felt from his mother and sister was unbearable. I didn’t expect them to be so frigid. They had always been so sweet to me, maybe that made my betrayal of Rick sting all the more.