Deranged: Twisted Myths Book One
Page 7
She held the nurse’s gaze, steady, her hair a mess, her clothes rumpled. And yet she held herself like a queen speaking to a subject. A trick she learned from her mother no doubt, but it still punched a hole through my chest.
She gave the woman a wan smile until the sound of footsteps faded down the hall. She shut the door and collapsed on the edge of the bed. I scooted up next to her and pulled her into me, relieved she settled there.
“You saved me.”
She shook her head. “It’s no problem. The nurses here all know me. They barely want to speak to me let alone come in my room.”
That didn’t sit well with me. I considered the idea they were neglecting her in some way. If I found out they were, every single one of them would be out on their ass.
I didn’t realize I’d spoken aloud when she grabbed my upper arms and gazed into my eyes. Her brows were crushed tight, so were her lips. “No. If you do that, they will start gossiping, and in a week, you will be out on your ass. My mother will know, everyone will assume we are sleeping together, and you’ll lose everything.”
Her voice inched toward panic, so I rubbed my hand down her back trying to soothe her. “Calm down. I won’t say anything. But you need to promise you’ll tell me if they are treating you poorly. I’m serious.”
She gave me a reluctant nod and scooted away. “You should probably get going. Someone will realize your car is still here. If you wait a moment, the nurse will go downstairs to talk shit about me with the night nurse on the next floor. You can sneak by the desk no problem.”
I didn’t want to leave her here, alone. Damn, I didn’t want to leave her at all. But I did. I grabbed my shoes and crept into the hall. She’d been correct—the nurse was nowhere in sight. I quickly grabbed my bag from the office and walked out of the building.
Every inch further I walked from her, guilt settled more tightly like a vice around my torso. All the words she’d thrown at me, about keeping her prisoner, helping her mother, flooded back, and I resisted the urge to return to her, lay beside her, stay there with her until we got her free. Well and truly free once and for all.
I drove home in a fog, barely recognizing I’d made it inside the door until my keys hit the stand inside with a clatter.
I started undressing before I hit the bathroom. In the shower, all I could see was her face, wishing she were here with me spiking her short hair up with shampoo as she giggled. I wanted to wrap my slippery body around her until neither of us could resist further.
I pounded my forehead against the steam-warmed tile and took a couple steadying breaths. She didn’t need me to break down too. She counted on me to help her, and that was exactly my plan.
I shut off the water, threw on some clothes, and dug my laptop from a bag in my still partially unpacked office. The battery light flashed at me, so I plugged it in and waited. Something harder and harder to do, every second passing with her on the inside and me on the outside.
I did some research. Looking into lawyers that specialize in emancipating adults. Not many in our area. I considered calling…no…he’d want something in return, and I couldn’t owe a favor to Donny. They called him the God of the Sea. And I suppose he was…a sea of money…since he owned every casino in the country and several in other countries. But before he turned to capitalism, he’s been an investigative journalist. He knew all the right buttons to push for a high-profile figure like Demeter.
I warred with myself. If Donny could save her, then I should make the call. But if I indebted myself and he wasn’t able to save her, things would go sideways quick.
I put that idea on the back burner for now. I could always call him if things look dire. See if he could help then. I felt much better about some ambiguous favor if it really was a life or death situation. And every second Kory stayed locked up because of me made me feel like dying.
I shut the laptop, threw some things in a bag, and left my apartment. It had never felt like home. Through training, through 24-hour work shifts, this place felt more like a way-station than a sanctuary.
I went back to the hospital. She told me to leave, but I found over and over again I couldn’t do it. Not with her. Never again.
I marched down the hallway. The nurse had passed out on the desk, the TV blaring from the social room. I watched for any movement before slipping down the hall and into Kory’s room. She was, of course, propped up against the wall, a book in her hand, a brownie in the other.
“Who gave you a brownie?
She shrugged. “Styx. I think she has a thing for me. She always brings me sweet treats when she works my floor.”
I didn’t know if I should laugh or be jealous. She offered it to me. I bent down to her while pulling her hand toward me. I took a bite and lingered were her fingers grazed my lips. After swallowing, I settled beside her on the bed. “I’m sorry I couldn’t stay home with you here locked up. It didn’t feel right.”
She sighed, closed the book, and leaned her head over against my shoulder. “I hate you leaving too. I always do.”
I tucked my hand under her chin and drew her lips up to mine. I wanted to offer what little comfort I could. And if that comfort came from my body, it was all hers to use anyway she delighted.
I took her mouth and plunged my fingers into her hair to pull her in tighter to me. She moaned into my mouth shoving her tongue between my lips to tangle with mine. It wasn’t until my dick throbbed painfully that I released her.
“I think I like when you’re repentant. You sure know how to make things up to a girl.”
I scowled. “This isn’t a joke.”
“I wasn’t joking.”
“While I do feel guilty, I’m going to do anything I can to make you comfortable here while I figure out how to get you out.”
Her forehead furrowed so cutely, and she poked my chest hard. “Until we figure out how to get me out.”
I pressed her down, laying my hips to align with hers, so she could feel I was done negotiating.
“I’ve been waiting for this,” she whispered, pushing my hair off my forehead.
“Waiting for this?”
She shrugged. “I wear people down eventually. Plus, you practically had to keep three feet between us at all times to keep yourself from jumping me. Medical ethics or not.”
She wasn’t lying. I hated myself a little bit for my lack of control on her part. Something about her dragged me into the undertow. Expecting a leisurely swim and finding a riptide.
Without warning, she started shoving at my loose sweatpants, pushing them down my hips. “I want you inside me now.”
I nipped her lower lip with my teeth. “So demanding.”
She wiggled, and I pressed into her. “Stay still. Let me get a condom.”
With a fast nod, she stilled, her hands gripping the tops of my pants now. I arched off the side of the bed and grabbed a condom from the bag. She helped pull my pants down to mid-thigh while I sheathed my length in the condom. When I turned back to her, she’d already wiggled out of her shorts and underwear, kicking them away.
I lay myself between her parted thighs and sighed as I settled at her opening. I wanted to go slow, give her time, but she grabbed my ass, urging me on. “Are you always this impatient during sex?”
“Yes, now fuck me.”
I thrust inside her in one move, her hands guiding me as I entered her. We stayed that way, neither of us moving, staring into each other’s eyes for a flash of a second. Then she arched her hips up, and I dropped my head to her collarbone. She felt so good, her pussy wrapped tight around my cock. She deserved time, care, and multiple orgasms. But I feared I wouldn’t be able to hold out long for all that. Especially when—she arched up again, effectively fucking my cock from below, using her abs to move herself up and down.
“You have a control streak in you,” I murmured into her ear as I dropped my hips down and forced hers into the mattress. “But I’m in control now.”
She groaned. “Well then, get moving please.�
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I slowly slid forward, and it was worth the way she threw her head back and bared the soft curve of her neck to me. I pressed my lips there as I moved inside her. She dragged her nails into my shirt and then shoved her hands underneath to scratch at my skin. I’d wear the mark of her desire proudly.
I trailed my lips up her neck, over her chin, and back to her lips. She untangled her hands from my shirt and gripped my cheeks in her small hands. She kissed me back like she needed my lips to breathe. I let her control the kiss while I controlled the slow slide into her body.
Once she released my lips and my face, she sighed loudly. “If you don’t start making some progress here, we are going to get caught before either of us get off.”
I chuckled. “Is this what you want?” I anchored my weight on my elbows and picked up a harder tempo, my pelvis hitting hers with each thrust.
She sank into herself with a satisfied hum. The primal part of my brain wanted to run around the room, beating its chest in victory. I kept going until she latched her nails into my upper arms and started breathing raggedly. “Are you going to come for me?”
She nodded over and over, not saying a word, eyes squeezed tight. “Look at me.”
She pried her eyes open and met mine as I arched up so my cock rubbed right on that little bud, making her squirm. I felt her splinter, her nails dug in hard, and she bit her lip. I monitored it all, staring into her eyes as she broke apart beneath me.
Once her breathing evened out a little, I pushed into her once, twice, until I followed her into my own orgasm. She held the back of my head, forcing me to look into her eyes as I did her. I almost came all over again from the intensity of it, and the sweet aftermath of her body coaxing everything from mine.
I lay my head down onto her chest, and she cradled it with her arms. “Do you want to go again?” she asked.
I moved so I could lay but stare up at her. “Are you kidding me. Give a man a moment.”
She giggled. “Sorry. I’ve just been imaging this for a while, and one time with you isn’t enough to satisfy myself.”
I murmured something, and she shook me. “Nope, you have to go. The nurses will do rounds soon. You can slip out before then.”
I peeled myself off the bed and gathered my things. She stole a quick kiss, and I slipped into the hallway to leave, alone. But some part of me thought I’d only ever have a home in her arms.
Chapter Eleven
Kory
I woke slowly, praying as I surfaced, it had all been real. Experience told me Ash in my arms was a dream. All good things are nothing more than pretty dreams. A way to keep myself from tipping over the edge, letting myself go for good.
I drew in a long deep breath, the pillow smelled like him, subtle, clean and soapy, but distinctly masculine. I pressed the pillow over my face like a wierdo.
“Calling it quits, are you? Plan to snuff it with a pillow?” a voice asked.
I removed the pillow from my face and focused on the voice by the door. Styx had been working at this hospital before I’d even been born. And it showed. “No. Just screaming into the fluff so as to not disturb my fellow socialites.”
I sat up and stretched while she sat a tray of food on the desk. I glanced over and noticed a sock underneath it, a black one. Definitely not mine. Styx didn’t seem to notice as she busily arranged my tray and turned back to me. “Let me know if you need anything else. You have a session with the doctor shortly. Eat quick.”
I couldn’t stop the smile which spread across my face at the thought of seeing him again. On this side of things. The side where he believed me, truly believed me. I’d never been more grateful my mother came to see me. If he hadn’t overheard her…I let that thought trail off into obscurity where it belonged.
The scent of the oatmeal dragged me from the edge, thankfully, and I pulled myself off the bed to bring it back. Cinnamon, brown sugar, and butter all wafted up from the bowl. My stomach gave a loud greeting grumble, and I dug into the food. Styx always knew how I liked my oatmeal. The rest of the nurses brought it plain and expected me to know the right ratios of toppings I liked. Which was impossible since I could never know who cooked the oatmeal for the day. Okay, I’ve lived a privileged existence in some cases.
After I ate, I took stock of my sore hips, letting myself remember the way his fingers indented my skin. I wanted his bruises. I wanted his marks. I wanted his claim on me. And mine on him in return.
I plucked the rubber band at my wrist and used it to shove as much of my short hair up into a ponytail as I could. Fly-aways escaped, but I let them as I tidied my bed and grabbed a book off the stack. I needed to shower before I saw Ash. But for now, I needed to feed my soul.
A knock dragged me from the pages of Dickens. Ash stood in my open doorway, staring down at my hunched over form expectantly. Then I remembered we were supposed to do the therapy thing.
“Um…can you give me a minute to shower and get dressed?”
He chuckled and stepped into my room. I wanted him to wrap his arms around me, but I knew he wouldn’t. Not with his license on the line. “Sure, take your time.” He grabbed the book and looked down at the cover. “You’re an ambitious reader.”
“Why do people say that? I think people who don’t read are un-ambitious. I’m just normal.”
He quirked an eyebrow.
“Okay, normal in most respects.”
I made sure my shorts were covering my ass before I crossed the room and grabbed my toiletries. You’d think with all the crap my mom pulled around here, I’d have earned an en-suite bathroom. I made a mental note to add that to my next demand list.
I showered and dressed quickly. When I returned to my room, he’d already left. Probably drumming his fingers on his desk while he waited in his office. I raced down the hall and found the door open.
The place looked the exact same as it usually did. Dust motes dancing in the air. A surly, but appealing face behind the desk. Someone should get this man a plant, or some art work, a frame…anything to turn the dingy walls into an actual workspace. Well, I guess those things only applied if someone meant to do work. To earn a living instead of merely going through the motions.
He sat behind his desk, reading something in a folder with a crease between his eyes. I entered and shut the door behind me. As I took my seat, he looked up at me. “How are you feeling?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Pretty great, actually. And you, Doctor, how are you feeling?”
He got up, skirted his desk, and went to the door. He wore his usual uniform of fitted khakis and a white button down collared shirt, pen at the neck. The soft click of the lock sounded loud and booming to my ears. A signal he wasn’t finished with me yet.
When he crossed the room again, he stopped behind my chair and dropped his hands onto the peaks of my shoulders. The heat of them seeped into the soft cotton of my white sweater. It took everything I had to control my breathing, keep it even, not let him know how much he affected me with such a simple gesture.
He must have showered and changed himself. I could smell the soap and humidity coming off him. He leaned down and trailed his lips along the side of my neck, marking his path with a sporadic bite.
I couldn’t keep myself calm now. Not when my fingers itched to drag his mouth to mine. Or when I had to squeeze my knees tight together to keep from opening my legs and inviting him there.
“If you want to have a conversation with me, you will need to stop. Or else I’m going to melt into a puddle at your feet.”
His soft moan washed up my neck, igniting me further. “Maybe I want you at my feet.”
I let out a stuttering breath and grabbed his neck to press him against my sensitive skin harder. The scrape of teeth caused me to arch up out of the chair and almost slide off.
He stood, steadying me where he still held my shoulders. “Okay, okay. Business first.”
He sat in the chair next to me instead of behind the barrier of the desk. My body still singing,
I tried to focus on his face, force my mind to switch gears. All I wanted to do was fold myself onto his lap and let him take me back to last night.
The words fell out of my mouth before I could stop them. “Let’s run away. Anywhere, everywhere. Let’s disappear.”
A quick grin sprouted on his lips before he folded them back to their usual neutral expression. “We can’t run away. People don’t just run away.”
“Rich people do it all the time. Trust me, I know. Six months of the year, I run as far and fast as I can get in hopes my mother will forget about me completely. So far, she hasn’t, unfortunately.”
He licked his lips and glanced away. Oh. Yeah. We’d only known each other a very short time. And why would he want to run away with a crazy person.
He folded his hands onto his lap like he needed to contain them. “Let’s talk about options. See how we get you out of here.”
I shrugged. “Something I’ve been trying to figure out for years. But, maybe your fancy medical degree can help.”
“It’s not my medical degree that will get you out of here. It’s my tenacity. And I have as much of that as you do.”
I wiggled, still feeling the effects of his hands on me. “What do you think we can do? Is there a petition process to spring me? A way to get my mom to sign over my rights as human being so I can take care of myself? As long as she has the power over me, declared incapable of taking care of myself, she’ll never let me go.”
He made a thinking noise. A cross between a “hmm” and a “huh”. “What do you think would work? Why does she insist on going after you like this? You’d think it would be easier on her in the long run to let you go do your own thing. Disappear, as you say.”
“My mother is a control freak. And I fear for the country if she wins the presidency.” I feared for my own well-being more.
“Is there something you can hold over her head, or a deal you can make so she lets you go? Promise to disappear and never be heard from again. We can change your name, move you to Europe.”