The Acceptance

by L. L. Foster

  She brought out the extremes in him. He couldn’t understand it, and he couldn’t fight it.

  They’d almost reached his car at the farthest end of the lot when she said, “Most of the johns can be cruel, you know. They hurt the women just because they can. They’re mean, nasty, and sometimes they cross the line. But they’re not necessarily evil, just wretched human beings.”

  So her intuition didn’t allow for mundane, ordinary, everyday evil? Realizing his own thoughts, Luther shook his head. He’d believe in her—to a point. But he wasn’t ready to buy in hook, line, and sinker.

  He decided she needed a little clarification on her observations. “Men who pay for sex are not the best of men, Gaby. Don’t judge everyone by them.”

  “I wouldn’t.” At his car, she circled around to the passenger’s side, then stopped and turned to face him. “But I can’t judge all men by you, either.”

  Luther told himself to get in the car, to take her to her room so she could get the rest she needed. But his feet wouldn’t budge. There was a magnetic pull to Gaby, and he always felt helpless against it.

  They stood in shadows, the chill evening air still around them.

  She tipped her head and looked . . . around him. “You’re aroused,” she said.

  Like a moth light-struck in her glow, Luther braced his hands on the car around her, caging her in. “You think so, do you?”

  Totally relaxed and almost sleepy, Gaby rested against the car. Her expression never changed as she nodded. “I see your aura, so I know you are.”

  “Ah. Yeah, I’d almost forgotten.” Many times now, Gaby had commented on auras—always, for him, in a complimentary way.

  “Your raw energy is really dancing, Luther. It’s shimmering around you, all excited and jittery and warm.”

  Damn. She seduced him, destroyed his better intentions, without even trying. “It’s been established, honey, that I always want you.”

  Not one for shyness, Gaby stared into his eyes. “It’s pretty frustrating for me. I don’t want to have sex with you. Hell, I’m still not entirely sure I understand the lure of sex. If you want the truth, what I’ve seen is interesting, but also a little disgusting.”

  “What you’ve seen is the dregs of society copulating.” Luther couldn’t keep his gaze off her small breasts. “That’s nothing like a man and woman making love.”

  “Oh please. Don’t even mention love. I don’t know what it is, don’t even believe in it, and it sure as hell has nothing to do with a man sticking his dick into a woman until he grunts and moans.”

  Luther pulled back. Damn it, her coarse ways weren’t new to him. But her porn-star descriptions still had the power to shock him clean down to his toes.

  She rolled her eyes. “Sorry. I can see I said too much. My point is that I want something, but I’m not sure what, and it’s all pretty damned confusing and annoying and I don’t like losing sleep over it.”

  An idea came to Luther.

  A horrible, wonderful, masochistic idea. His heart thumped; his dick got hard. He licked his lips, leaned in a little closer, and said, “How about I prove a point to you, Gaby? We won’t have intercourse, since you say you aren’t ready. But . . .”

  Her brows knit together. “But what? What are you thinking?”

  To regain his calm, Luther closed his eyes for just a moment. It didn’t help. His plans became visual, and he saw Gaby, what he wanted to do to her, what he eventually planned to do to her.

  And the end result: Her blue eyes glazed with amazement, her body warm and fluid and . . . wet.

  Shit. He had it bad, no denying that.

  When Luther opened his eyes it was to take a quick look around the empty parking lot while he considered their isolated position. Even if someone did show up at this ungodly hour, his car would block any view of them, of what he’d be doing to her.

  He inhaled, girding himself.

  “Oh for crying out loud!” Gaby exploded. “Are you planning a murder or worse? What the hell are you up to, cop?”

  In response, Luther put his fingertips on the inside of her right knee.

  Her eyes widened.

  “I can ease your frustration, Gaby. I can make you feel things you didn’t know existed.” As he spoke, he trailed his fingertips higher—under the edge of her skirt, and up to the elastic leg band of her panties.

  The cotton was soft, but unadorned—like Gaby. But then, what else would he expect her to wear? Lace? Silk? Not likely.

  She held herself perfectly still, watching his face the way a trapped mouse would watch a cat.

  “You already feel it, don’t you, honey?”

  She swallowed, lifted her chin. “Maybe.”

  Yeah, she felt it. His chest expanded with satisfaction— and his body hurt with lust. “Put your arms around my neck.”

  With a surprising eagerness, Gaby did as he instructed. Luther kept his right hand between her legs, and with his left, tipped her face up more to accommodate a devouring kiss. She stood only three inches shorter than him, and he knew her to be a very capable woman.

  But now, right this moment, she felt fragile and very delicate. Her compliance filled him with steam. With their mouths melded together, her tongue came out to mate with his, urging him on, easing the way for his lesson.

  Against her lips, Luther said, “Men who care about women don’t just rut with them. They take the time to enjoy them. I’m going to enjoy you a little, Gaby.”

  “Yeah, okay.” She closed the small space between their lips with an insistent kiss.

  So eager.

  And so easy to sway when aroused.

  It was a novel thing to have Gaby in an agreeable mood. He liked it. But then, he liked her even when she was contrary and antagonistic. At times, Luther felt that if he didn’t have her, he’d go mad with the wanting.

  When his hand cupped her small breast, she started and pulled her mouth away.

  Their gazes met. Watching her, Luther skimmed his thumb over her tightly beaded nipple.

  Her breath caught. “What are you doing?”

  “Enjoying you.”

  Her lips parted and her eyelids went heavy. “Why . . . why does that feel so good?”

  Oh God, it was the sweetest torture. “Because you’re enjoying me, too.”

  Leaning into his hand, she said again, “Okay.”

  Against his wrist, Luther felt the static beat of her heart. Her flesh was soft, her nipple supple. She had sensitive breasts. He liked that. A lot.

  After playing with both breasts, tweaking, tugging on her nipples, Luther cupped his other hand over her crotch.

  She shot to her tiptoes in surprise.

  “Shhh.” Taking her mouth to silence her, to share with her, Luther began stroking. His touch was light and easy, teasing, over the now damp cotton of her panties.

  Gaby panted, her breath coming fast and harsh. Her strong fingers sank into his shoulder muscles, almost to the point of pain, definitely with demand. She rocked her hips once, then stilled herself.

  “No,” Luther whispered, “don’t stop. Move as you want to move, Gaby. It’ll make it even nicer for you.”

  “I don’t know about this.”

  “I do.”

  Her hands clutched at him. “I feel like a wire being tightened.”

  Luther bit her bottom lip, her chin, her throat as he made his way down to her chest. By her nipple, he said, “I want you pulled so tight, you snap.” And then he drew her nipple into his mouth.

  She cried out, curled herself around him, moaned.

  No reserve for Gaby. In this, she couldn’t be more honest.

  “Lift your shirt for me, Gaby.” As he said it, Luther worked his hand up and over into the waistband of her panties. He felt her soft pubic curls, her hot flesh.

  She didn’t move and he raised his face to look at her.

  From the time he’d known Gabrielle Cody, he’d noticed some affliction that altered her appearance through strong emotion.


  Now her blue eyes were diamond bright, somehow more catlike in shape, very exotic. Her cheekbones looked sharper, her mouth more lush.

  She looked like Gaby, but different, and she was sexy as hell.

  Holding her gaze captive, Luther parted her slick lips by gliding two fingers back and forth, back and forth.

  Her expression constricted even more.

  Slick moisture bathed his fingers.

  Luther gently opened her, and with inexorable pressure, worked both fingers into her. She was small, but he couldn’t imagine Gaby ever taking half measures.

  She’d want to be filled.

  And he wanted to fill her.

  Her virgin flesh stretched, and he felt the strain of her entire body.

  A sharp breath parted her lips. A mix of pain and pleasure made her eyes flare.

  “You are so damn tight,” he murmured, turned on by the knowledge of being the first to do this to her.

  The first to do everything with her, wanting to be the only man to ever—no.

  He wouldn’t allow himself to think that way. Not now, not with so many unanswered questions. Not while she remained such an enigma.

  As Luther pressed his fingers deeper into her, her eyelids drooped—and she lifted her shirt.

  Needing no more invitation than that, he lowered his head and drew one taut nipple into his mouth. Her fingers sank into his hair, holding him to her. Heat, scented by her heightened desire, filled the air.

  Luther switched to the other nipple, nipping with his teeth, tugging till she moaned and then lathing with his tongue to soothe her.

  Just as she relaxed, he closed his mouth around her again and sucked hard.

  A tearing groan escaped her. Her body stiffened, and knowing she was close, he brought his thumb up to her distended clitoris. Pressing, fretting her most sensitive flesh with a delicious friction, Luther pushed her—and far too quickly, she came.

  Thank God they were alone in the big lot, given her savage scream. Her short nails drew blood on his shoulders. Her strong muscles clenched, quivered, then went lax.

  Damn. He’d known it from the moment he saw her, how explosive she’d be, how unique and special and mind-blowing.

  He couldn’t wait to be inside her, to share that pleasure with her. But for now, he’d have to.

  Gaby was so limp, in another second she’d be sleeping.

  With her most immediate problem resolved, he needed to get back on track.

  Now the real fireworks would begin.

  Resting the side of her face on his shoulder, letting him support her weight, Gaby yawned. Man, oh man. Talk about taking the stress away. She felt so lethargic, more than anything, she wanted her bed.

  Luther’s hand moved up and down her back, comforting, intimate.

  They’d just shared something monumental. She knew it, but she didn’t have the energy to react to it.

  Yet.

  In a minute, she’d figure out what she needed to do to reciprocate. She wanted Luther to feel what she’d just felt.

  Oh sure, she knew he’d done that plenty of times. The man had surely practiced to be so good at it. But she wanted him to feel it with her.

  She yawned again, nuzzled closer to his big, hard chest, and wondered how he’d feel in her hands, if it’d be the same for him.

  “You still awake?” Luther asked her.

  “Mmm. I just need a minute.” Or five or ten.

  He kissed her temple. “I can pick you up tomorrow. We’ll have breakfast, talk, and then visit Bliss again. She should be dismissed early.”

  Was he nuts? Held upright by the constriction of his strong arms around her, Gaby lifted her head to stare at him.

  Oh, he was ripe with sensation, his aura so bright and molten it was a wonder they weren’t both singed.

  When he only smoothed her hair, she asked, “What about you?”

  “What about me?” He kissed her mouth, smiled like a conqueror. He even touched the end of her nose. “I got what I wanted.”

  He had to be kidding. “So what was it you wanted?” The repletion of muscles and sinew kept her loose and limp. Gaby struggled to stiffen her knees.

  This confrontation demanded a little strength on her part, not Jell-O limbs.

  “I wanted you to see that it’s not always about men stickingtheir dicks in women. For men who pay to get their rocks off, sure, that might be it. But between us—”

  “There’s an us?” Stupid question. He’d just rocked her entire world in a very big way.

  And it had only taken him a few minutes.

  In a parking lot.

  Out in the open.

  He squeezed her bottom and said, “Whether you want to admit it or not, yeah, there is. Eventually, I’ll be on top of you, Gaby. I’ll be inside you—and I don’t mean my fingers either.”

  Because she suspected it’d put a stop to his cocky assurances of what sounded vaguely like domination to her, Gaby cupped her hand over his crotch.

  Sure enough, he went mute, still, even pained. His gaze froze as he stared at her, held in suspense, unsure what she’d do, and probably hoping she’d do it.

  Gaby almost smiled over the feeling of power.

  A different type of power from what she was used to.

  A more satisfying type of power.

  “This,” she told him, squeezing a little, measuring the length of his cock by slowly stroking base to tip and back again, “is noticeably bigger than two fingers. I’m not sure it’d work.”

  Muscles tensed and voice rough, Luther said, “I know I hurt you—”

  “Ha. Let me tell you something, Luther. That wasn’t pain. Not even close. In fact . . .” While keeping him captive in her hand, Gaby let loose a wide-jawed yawn. “It was relaxing.”

  He closed his eyes against a private struggle. “Trust me, honey, when it happens, you’re going to love it.”

  “More than I enjoyed that?” She wouldn’t use the “L” word in any context, so he could forget it.

  His big hand covered hers, but not to move her hand away. He pressed her closer. “How much did you enjoy it?”

  “You want honesty, right?”

  Disquiet nudged aside the sexual voracity on his face. “Always.”

  She inhaled, then exhaled long and slow. “I’m familiar with pain, ya know? It’s a part of my daily life, coming and going in varying degrees, emotionally and physically.”

  “Gaby.” He touched his forehead to hers.

  A lump formed in Gaby’s throat, and she had one hell of a time swallowing. “What you just gave to me . . . well, it’s startling because I didn’t know anything could feel like that. For a split second of time, I don’t think I was aware of anything other than what I felt.”

  “That bothers you?”

  “It makes me vulnerable.”

  “Not when you’re with me. Never with me.” He pulled her hand away and enclosed her in his arms. “When you’re with me, you’re always safe.”

  Gaby didn’t tell him how absurdly naïve he had to be to believe such a thing. Truth was, Luther was safer with her, not the other way around.

  But she supposed a big macho cop who’d just given a woman that kind of pleasure really didn’t want to hear reality.

  He kissed her ear. “I can tell you don’t believe me, and that’s okay, because I can’t convince you right now. We need time enough and place proper to get naked and be at our leisure. Then you’ll truly see what I mean.” He smoothed her hair. “But until then, don’t judge all men by the fools using prostitutes, and don’t go frustrated, now that you know I can help.”

  Gaby eyed him up and down. Just what the hell was he offering? “So when I need you, there you are?” She snapped her fingers. “Ready and willing?”

  “Don’t push it, woman.” His smile took the insult out of his warning. Tugging her away from the car, he opened the car door and gestured for her to get in. “Time for us to go.”

  In a stupor of newfound information and physical replet
ion, Gaby dropped inside.

  When Luther got behind the wheel, he said again, “I’ll pick you up for breakfast tomorrow morning. Is eight good for you?”

  Time frames didn’t mean the same to her as they did to ordinary people. Unlike most of society, she didn’t feel the need to keep regular hours. Hell, she wasn’t even sure what regular hours might be.

  Sure, she knew that people wanted to be awake with the sun, and to sleep with the moon. But for her, life wasn’t that simple. Immorality erupted with an eternity of determination. For evil, the clock didn’t tick, the sun didn’t set.

  For evil, there was no respite.

  For one who fought evil, the same rules applied.

  Gaby had adjusted by waking when she woke, acting when necessary, and sleeping when her conscience, and God, allowed.

  “Gaby?” Luther pressed. “Is eight o’clock good for you?”

  Shaking off the morbid substantiality of her existence, Gaby made a face. “I’m not a big eater, as you can tell by my prominent bones.”

  “I like your bones.” He winked at her. “But you could stand to gain a little weight.”

  “Yeah, well, since leaving Mort’s, breakfast has been way down there on my list of things to do.”

  “We can change that—starting tomorrow.”

  “We’ll see.” She looked back at the tall brick structure, well lit but still dreary. With the taint of Gaby’s discordant memories, the hospital looked more like a gnarled head-stone than a place of sanctuary. “I hate hospitals.”

  “I know, but she’ll be safe here. They’ll take care of her.”

  Gaby shook her head. “I don’t know, Luther. It doesn’t seem right to let her out of my sight. I have a very bad feeling about all this.”

  When Luther stared at her for an extended time, Gaby turned to him and said, “What?”

  “You really think something will happen to her here?”

  She shrugged. “I think something can happen to her here. That’s enough for me.”

  After another second of contemplation, he nodded. “All right then.” To Gaby’s surprise, Luther pulled out his cell and put in a call, requesting a uniformed cop to stand watch.

  He’d taken her concerns seriously?

  Another first for her, and just as satisfying as what he’d done to her with his fingers.