Friends Like These

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Friends Like These Page 9

by Tymber Dalton


  Tony reached out a hand and patted the kid on the shoulder. “Those two are cops,” he said, pointing at Gabe and Bill. “You did good. Thank you for helping her. We’re her friends, and we’ll take it from here.”

  Kenny and Nolan could hear Gabe talking to her, and the sound of Betsy’s sobs, but they couldn’t see past the others and into the office. It wasn’t until the men in front of them parted a few minutes later, and Kenny spotted Gabe, her arm protectively around Betsy’s shoulder, that he realized the extent of Betsy’s injuries.

  Betsy held an ice pack over her right eye. Her left sported a cut over the eyebrow that the clerk had tried to close with three bandages. Ugly bruises that were already turning nasty shades of black and blue covered her chin, her cheeks, her arms.

  Kenny fought the urge to be violently ill and violently…well, violent.

  Once they were outside, Kenny reached out and touched Bill’s shoulder, holding him back. “What’s the plan?” Bill had shadowed Gabe and Betsy outside.

  Kenny desperately hoped the plan would include a bunch of them paying a visit to see Jack and give him a little payback…in spades.

  Okay, a lot of payback.

  “We’re all going to go to her place. It’s just five minutes away. Jack’s not home, he went to work. We’ll get all her shit out of there and move it to Kel’s apartment by Venture. She doesn’t have a car anymore because the fucker made her sell it and give him the money.”

  “She’ll be alone there at the apartment.”

  “We’ll take shifts—”

  “She can stay with us,” Nolan interrupted, pleasantly surprising Kenny.

  Kenny looked at his partner, who nodded. Kenny nodded back. “Yeah, we’ve got a spare bedroom. Half the people at Venture know about Kel’s place, now that he’s partners with Derrick. That’s probably the first place Jack will look for her when he finds out she’s gone and once the cops contact him. She can’t stay there alone. Jack doesn’t know us except from the club. He won’t find her with us.”

  “She’s not working right now,” Bill said. “The asshole made her quit her job. She can’t pay you anything. She doesn’t have anything except what Jack didn’t make her get rid of.”

  “We don’t care,” Kenny and Nolan said together. Kenny continued, “Look, we live within easy walking distance to that new mall. If she can’t get a job there, there’s a bus stop just a block away. She doesn’t need to pay us rent until she’s able to. We’re doing okay.”

  Bill stared at the two men for a moment before walking around to where Sully and Gabe were getting Betsy settled in the backseat of Bill’s car. He leaned in and spoke to them for a moment before returning.

  “Okay, Gabe signed off on it, and so did Betsy. Although Betsy’s really in no condition to be making decisions right now. I suspect if I’d told her we were taking her to Disney she would have agreed. Gabe says we need to take her to the ER, even though Betsy doesn’t want to go. She thinks Betsy might have a concussion. And at that point, we will have law enforcement involved whether Betsy wants them involved or not.” He let out a resigned sigh. “Let’s get her stuff first, and we’ll talk her into it. The ER trip.”

  “Thanks,” Nolan said. “I promise, we’ll take care of her.”

  Bill arched an eyebrow at him. “If it wasn’t for the fact that I know Tilly likes you two a lot, you realize I’d be suspicious right now, right?”

  Ross called for everyone’s attention. “Let’s move. This won’t take long, but we need to get it done quick.”

  Kenny and Nolan, with Tony and Ross joining them once again, headed back to their car to follow Bill and Gabe.

  Tony leaned in. “If she gets to be too much for you to handle, you let one of us know immediately,” he said. “I mean, having her at your place. The only reason I didn’t push to overrule you is I know you’re right. The asshat will probably know about Kel’s apartment. If he makes bail, he’ll look for her there first.”

  “Remind me to put together a greeting committee for the jerk,” Ross darkly muttered. “If he shows up at Kel’s or the club later today looking for her, we can give him a proper welcome.”

  “Add us to that list,” Kenny said. “We’ll have our feelings hurt if you don’t.”

  “You’d better be at home keeping an eye on her,” Tony said.

  “True,” Kenny agreed.

  “Don’t worry,” Ross said. “We’ll get in whacks for you two, if it comes to that.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Scrye had thought about joining the rescue party, but when he’d taken a step forward toward the sliders leading into the house, June had grabbed his lower arm with an iron grip and subtly shook her head at him.

  Torn between wanting a piece of whoever might have harmed one of their friends, and his petite wife and slave’s pointed stare…

  Well, his wife won, of course.

  He leaned in so she could speak into his ear. “They have enough help,” she said. “We have two daughters that keep us on our toes. If there wasn’t half a cavalry unit heading out the door already, I’d shoo you along with them. But they’ll be fine.”

  “I want to help.”

  “Then let’s help by keeping this party going instead of it dying on the vine. Lucas, Nick, and Leigh put a lot of effort into this, and we don’t get to see them that often.”

  “And you want to play.”

  “Duh. Bill and Gabe were going to go up next.” She smiled. “That means it’s our turn now.”

  “Then you’d better get over there and start getting your beautiful little ass naked,” he said, swatting her on her beautiful little ass.

  She didn’t release his arm, her smile fading. “You don’t have to save the world. Frankly, that guy Jack? He’s bad news. I don’t want him coming after us. You’re fairly recognizable, and he might know about your books. Not like it’ll cripple us financially if we’re outed, but why risk the aggravation?”

  Scrye released his irritation at her logic. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. You’re right.” He leaned in and kissed her. “So I’ll just vent my frustration on you.”

  She grinned. “Now you’re talking.”

  * * * *

  June felt a little bad about quashing Scrye joining the rescue mission…but only a little.

  She liked Betsy, but the last thing June wanted was her husband getting involved in something when there were already plenty of others ready, willing, and able to rush in and help.

  Besides, dammit, this was their playtime, and they’d earned it. Obviously, if no one else had been able to help, yes, June would have been grabbing their car keys and leading the charge.

  When there were already close to a dozen people heading out—including armed and active law enforcement—the presence of an accountant good at tying people up and his yoga-instructor wife weren’t required.

  Not even a momma bear such as herself.

  Even if she did have a concealed carry permit.

  Scrye grabbed their rope and implement bags and followed her over to the suspension frame. She wasted no time getting naked while he started unpacking his rope and getting ready.

  As always, the sensation of the rope gliding over her skin started her gradual slide toward subspace. The feel of her husband’s hands as he bound her, the rope becoming part of her, part of him, his vision of what he wanted to create with it and her.

  What he’d be doing to her after he had her up in the air. Ah, that was where the real fun began. When Scrye would break out implements, a vibrator…

  And his cock.

  Her favorite implement, of course.

  It took him about twenty minutes to get the harness securely tied around her torso and the suspension ropes ready. Then he smiled down at her.

  “Ready?”

  “Always, big guy.”

  He hooked an arm around her waist and lifted her so she could grab the ring the suspension ropes were run through and hold herself up while he belayed the ropes and took out the ex
cess slack. Then she carefully lowered herself until she felt all the slack taken up and let go of the ring.

  Tonight, he’d tied her face-up. And once she’d released the ring, he gently pushed her, swinging her back and forth in a large, lazy circle. This, she knew, wouldn’t last long before he finished his evil plan.

  Scrye didn’t disappoint.

  With more rope, he bound her wrists behind her back and under her, and then bent her legs at the knees, tying her ankles to her thighs, leaving her pussy wide open and exposed to him. As he slid his hands up her body, he smiled down at her.

  “Got you where I want you now, don’t I?”

  “You always do, Sir.”

  “Yes, I guess I do, don’t I? Not that I hear you complaining.”

  “Only when you don’t get me there enough, Sir.”

  He laughed, a rich, rolling, rumbling sound that always made her wet. Seeing her man happy, that was always a turn-on.

  And tying her, torturing her—in the good ways—making her head explode, those were some of the things that made him happy, and her, too, by default. Making him happy made her happy.

  It was lucky for her that making him happy only benefitted her in the process.

  He stepped between her legs, forcing them even wider apart. She realized he had a small acrylic paddle in his right hand. “Ready?”

  “Always.”

  He started with the outsides of her thighs, smacking her hard, harder than he had in a while. The gradual slide to subspace instantly transformed into a steep downhill ski ramp covered in ice. And when she hit the bottom and launched out into the freeing bliss of subspace, she arched her back in the ropes and held on.

  Metaphorically, of course, because her hands were bound.

  With one hand he smacked her thighs with the paddle while reaching up to pinch her nipples with the other, back and forth. The pleasure and the pain, mixing and swirling and turning into a wonderful blend of sensations that only catapulted her farther out into bliss.

  The world around them faded away. They were no longer on the lanai, surrounded by friends. They occupied the center of a tiny universe of their own creation, the boundaries no farther than just outside the reach of Scrye’s strong arms and the arc of travel of the suspension ropes.

  He reached under her and swatted her ass as he plunged two fingers into her now drenched pussy.

  “Somebody likes this,” he softly rumbled, a smile on his face.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  He teased her clit with his fingers, slowly fucking her pussy with them before withdrawing to tease her clit some more. He knew damn well what he was doing to her, how to do it to her. He was infinitely skilled in the fine art of torturing her. So skilled that he could have her begging for it, begging for more if he stopped too soon.

  Because pleasure always followed—or accompanied—the pain.

  And as skilled as he was at giving her pain, he was an amateur at that when compared to giving her pleasure.

  He stepped away, the sudden loss making her gasp and almost pop up out of her floaty bubble of subspace. But he returned immediately, with more goodies. This time he wielded a vibrating dildo and an “evil stick,” a small, short, lightweight cane made out of carbon fiber.

  Scrye switched the vibrator on and slowly started fucking her with it, not getting her over, just taking her close to the edge time and again as he used the evil stick on her, on her breasts, inner thighs, upper arms—pretty much anywhere he could reach without changing position or removing the vibrator from her pussy.

  He took his time, building her up, not letting her crest, tormenting her. Just when she thought maybe he was going to let her come, he paused again to swap implements. He kept the vibrator but this time he held a riding crop in his other hand.

  And with that he went to town, striking her hard and fast on the thighs as he fucked her with the vibrator. Then he buried the buzzing toy deep inside her pussy and delivered a fast series of blows to her thighs that tipped her over the edge and got her coming.

  He laughed, laying the riding crop across her stomach as he kept the vibrator buried inside her. She squirmed, writhed, moaned as her orgasm swept through her.

  “That’s it,” he said. “You just enjoy that, because in a minute, I’m going to fuck you with your favorite toy.”

  That only made her come harder. The only time he could fuck her like this—one of her most favorite things—was at the private parties when there was a suspension frame. They didn’t have a setup at home for suspension, and the club didn’t allow sex.

  She loooved it when he fucked her while she flew, in the air, deep in subspace, everything about it.

  Losing track of time while he kept her coming, she squirmed, struggled, knowing she was securely ensnared by the ropes, by him. Finally, he pulled the vibrator out and replaced it with his cock.

  “There you go,” he said. He grabbed the ropes around her hips and used them for purchase to fuck her hard, deep, his cock feeling sooo much better than the vibrator had.

  And with his body rubbing her swollen clit at the bottom of every stroke, it didn’t take much for her to come again, impaled on his cock.

  “That’s my good girl,” he said, timing his strokes, harder, faster. She suspected he was trying to see if he could coax just…one…more out of her…

  Bazinga.

  She let out a cry as Scrye pounded his cock into her. “Just like I thought,” he said, sounding strained before letting out a satisfied grunt of his own. “I knew I could get one more out of you.”

  After catching his breath, he withdrew and spun her around, cradling her head in his hands. She opened wide, eagerly sucking on his cock, laving her tongue over it, hoping to get him hard again, but for that she would be denied.

  He chuckled as he stroked her cheeks with his thumbs. “Not tonight, baby,” he said. “Just one for me.” He pulled his softening cock from her mouth and leaned in, kissing her. “But I know I can get one more out of you.”

  Before she could react, he’d spun her around again and then she felt his beard against the insides of her thighs just before his lips and tongue closed in on her clit.

  Yes, easily one more, as talented as he was in that as well, and as sensitive as her clit now felt from all the other attention he’d given her. And as she gave up one last orgasm to him, he turned and bit the inside of her right thigh, making her squeal.

  “You know they aren’t free,” he teased.

  He quickly got her lowered onto a towel on the MMA mats under the suspension frame and started untying her. A few minutes later, he had his rope and their gear stowed and was leading her over to the shallow end of the pool for some post-play cuddling there.

  Nestled in the enormous safety of his embrace, she rested her head against his chest, her ear pressed there, listening to the sound of his heart.

  He nuzzled his chin in against the top of her head. “Better?”

  “It’s always better after you take care of me, Sir.”

  “Good girl.”

  June closed her eyes and relaxed. Here, with him, she could let go of everything, of the world. Yes, with their daughters out of the house it was now easier to relax. Especially now that she wasn’t teaching children’s gymnastics any longer. Yoga soothed her. And that she was teaching adults soothed her even more.

  The most soothing thing of all—moments like this. Alone, with him.

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  “My pleasure. You know that.”

  She tipped her head up to meet his gaze. “But I always like to say it.”

  He rubbed noses with her. “Thank you, sweetheart. Love you.”

  “Love you, too, big guy.” She closed her eyes again and snuggled even more deeply into his embrace. “Love you so, so much.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Lucas struggled not to laugh. He really did feel badly for Tilly. She was fiercely protective of her friends and it was obvious being left out of the rescue mission wasn’t setting
well with her. He’d just gotten off the phone with Gabe, who’d assured him Betsy was okay, they’d gotten her stuff, and that they were going to take her first to the hospital, then to Nolan and Kenny’s to stay.

  “Dammit,” Tilly muttered. “I was hoping the fucker would be the one getting a trip to the hospital, not Betsy.”

  “Tilly, it’s okay,” Lucas told her. “You got to stay behind with the cool kids.”

  She glared at him. “I really wanted to take a swing at that fucker.”

  “Which is exactly why Landry ordered you to stay home,” Leigh reminded her, slinging an arm around her friend’s waist. “Not to mention, Jack isn’t even there. How do you expect to be my assistant if you’re in jail? We love you, but prison orange isn’t your color.”

  Loren laughed where she stood in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with her arms crossed over her chest. “No, she’s more a spring than an autumn.”

  Tilly flipped her a bird.

  “Don’t sweat it, Til,” Loren said. “You can put your extraordinary talents to work trying to help Betsy through this once she’s safe and getting her feet back under her at Kenny and Nolan’s.”

  “I can’t do that from California,” she said. “Eliza, you’ll have to pinch-hit for me.” Tilly’s expression turned pensive. “You know, Nolan and Kenny are single.”

  Eliza, who’d been leaning against the far side of the kitchen island, straightened, a bright grin curving her lips. “Oooh!”

  “I know, right?” Tilly said. “Would they not be perfect for her?”

  Cody, Justin, and Brooke burst out laughing. “Oh, shit,” Justin said. “I know that look on Eliza’s face.”

  Now it was Eliza’s turn to look outraged. “What?”

  “That’s your matchmaking look,” Cody said.

  “So?” Eliza asked. “Not like I see you three complaining. They’ve had thirds before. If nothing else, maybe she’ll agree to be under their protection so she doesn’t make another bone-headed move.”

  “You don’t even know if they’re attracted to her,” Rusty said.

 

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