Once she was washed, I watched the last of the coppery brown swirls of soap and blood go down the drain. I hopped out of the shower and let her have some alone time.
Drying off, I went into her room and grabbed two pairs of undies. I shucked off my wet ones and put on a dry pair and one of her sports bras. She had curves for a little thing, but my boobs were much larger and would never fit into her smaller cups. In the PJ drawer I pulled out two tanks and two pairs of fleecy plaid pants. They’d be high-waters on me, but it didn’t matter. Not wanting to leave Gin in the shower alone for too long, I tugged on the outfit and brought the rest to the bathroom.
When I entered, she hadn’t moved. As in, not even an inch. She just stood there, the water pounding on her back, blankly staring at the opposite side of the shower stall. I reached in, turned it off, grabbed the giant towel next to the shower, and wrapped it around her. She didn’t protest anything as I dried her, and she kept her gaze off to the side and down, lost in her own thoughts.
“Want to talk about it?” I asked.
She shook her head. The first movement she’d made on her own without being instructed.
“Okay, you don’t have to.”
Ginelle closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Tears slipped out, but I didn’t say anything. If she wanted to talk about it, she would. For now, I would just take care of her and be here. That’s the best thing I could do for her. Once I got her dressed, I guided her over to the toilet seat where I sat her down. Then with thumb and forefinger, I lifted her chin to inspect her face. The lip was pretty open but not so much that it wouldn’t heal on its own.
“I’ll be right back.” I said and moved to turn around, but before I could make it a step away, her hands were clutching my tank, holding me there.
“Don’t leave me.” Her voice shook. I placed my hands over hers and unfurled them from my shirt.
I looked right into her eyes, pale green to cornflower blue. “Gin, I’m not leaving you. I’m getting the first aid kit in the hall so I can patch up your face, okay?”
Her pupils were huge. Like two giant black holes. She trembled all over but nodded curtly. I squeezed her hands and then got up and walked slowly out of the room. The second I made it past the threshold, I ran to the closet and rummaged around until I found the red case with the big white cross on it. Shoving the rest of the stuff that fell around me back into the closet, I hustled back to Ginelle. Again, she hadn’t moved, just stared off into space. Gooseflesh rose on her skin as I got close.
“One more thing.” I ran to the closet and pulled out her favorite zip-up hoodie. It was hot pink and had bedazzled metal balls on the back in the shape of angels’ wings running the length of the back. I put the hood over her wet hair, helped her put each arm in, and zipped it up. Again, she sighed, tucked her hands inside the armholes, and clutched it close to her body.
Trying to be careful, I treated the various cuts with some ointment and Band-Aids where possible and gave her four Ibuprofen. “This will help with the pain. Are you hungry?”
She shook her head, and I helped her stand. Pulling back the blankets on her bed, I led her in. Then I closed up the rest of the house, sent a quick text to Maddy and Max telling them where I was, and got into bed next to Gin. I rolled over, put my arm around her waist, and spooned her backside. I snuggled into her neck.
“You’re okay now. I’m here, and Gin, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry this happened to you, but I swear, I swear to God it will never happen again. I promise.”
She clasped both of my hands to her chest and held me close. Then once more, the tears came and they came hard. I held her, soothed her, spoke softly to her until eventually she fell asleep. Then, exhausted, I too fell into dreamland.
* * *
A featherlight caress ran up one arm and back down. I opened my eyes sleepily and was face to face with the only person I wanted to see more than I wanted to take my next breath. “You’re here,” I whispered, afraid if I blinked, he’d vanish. Wes ran his fingertips up and down both of my bare arms, solidifying his presence.
“Of course I am, sweetheart. Where did you think I’d be?” His head dipped to the side and a cocky grin covered his lips. Beautiful.
I swallowed and choked down the emotion swirling around me. “Gone. Lost to me.”
Wes leaned forward and trailed his lips down my neck, over my tank top, nipping and kissing as he moved.
“The only place I’m going, sweetheart, is between these thighs. Spread ’em.” He gripped my inner thighs with purpose.
Without thought, care, concern, I did exactly that. Opened my legs nice and wide for him.
He sat back on his haunches. A well-placed thumb pushed down on my hot spot as if he’d had x-ray vision and could see through my underwear to the pink flesh beyond. The digit spun around the aching, hard kernel of need. His eyes were focused on the task in front of him, glued to the space between my thighs. “Look at that. Soaking that cotton right before my eyes.”
I mewled and jerked my hips, wanting more, needing more. “Baby…” I said, breathless, moving my hips in tandem with the blessed little circles.
“You think I can make you come without touching your naked body? Having you screaming in release with just my thumb?” His eyes blazed, lust apparent in every slow blink. He licked his lips, and I watched the bit of flesh moisten, wanting nothing more than to kiss him. He moved his thumb in a fluttering flick that made me arch up. “Can you, Mia? I think you can.”
He knew what he was doing. Talking dirty, playing with me. The act of touching me with a barrier ratcheted up my excitement to smokin’ hot levels.
Wes leaned forward, holding my legs down with his powerful biceps, his elbows resting on each side of my thighs preventing any further movement. He nudged my clit with his nose and inhaled loudly.
“Jesus, baby, you smell so good. I missed this. Having my face buried in this heat. Best place in the world.”
He nuzzled my cloth-covered core, his nose rubbing against the erect bundle, his mouth right over where I wanted him most. I could feel the wet heat of his breath through my panties, right over my slit. Then he took it up a notch, flattened his tongue, and sucked on the damp fabric, groaning his enjoyment at sampling me through the weave of fabric. It provided a new sensation, one I’d never had before, but I wanted to rip the panties off. Let him taste me fully with no barrier.
“Wes,” I shimmied my hips as best as I could until he put the lockdown over my thigh once more.
“No moving, sweetheart. I want your body forced to accept every ounce of pleasure I give you.” And then he went to work. Licking and sucking my lower lips and clit through the miniscule basket weave of cotton covering me. Pretty soon, I was so wet that it didn’t matter that he was eating me through my underwear, it felt so damned good. When he rubbed that thumb over my sweet spot and pressed a pointed tongue into my core, the cotton grated along oversensitive tissue, and my body went tight. The pressure started at my core, glided up my chest, wrapped around my heart, out each limb until I convulsed. The pleasure electrified me, but Wes didn’t stop. He held me down and forced me to take the pleasure again and again until he ripped off my panties and dived his tongue deep into my slit. So much so his movements pressed me up the bed. He couldn’t get close enough and the sounds he made were carnal, animalistic. Christ, I could come from the sounds alone.
Wes growled, licked, sucked, bit, and nibbled me into sheer oblivion, my body rocking against his face. I held onto his dirty blond hair in a death grip as he held open the petals of my sex and sucked me for so long and so hard that I physically couldn’t stop coming.
Eventually, he pulled his mouth away, lifted up his arm, wiped my juices off his face onto his forearm, lifted up my hips, keeping them nice and wide, and slammed his rock hard cock home.
I screamed out as my entire body shook with the effort of being filled so perfectly.
“Wake the fuck up, you crazy cunt!” Ginelle was shaking my body the same way W
es was shaking me in my dream, only his was through pile drives into my wet sex.
The new sensation was foreign, like tiny bony fingers shaking my upper chest in an annoying painful jarring.
Opening my eyes, blinking fast, I looked around the room and realized where I was. Ginelle’s apartment. I surveyed the room. Wes was gone. Nowhere to be found. Damn, it was only a dream. A beautiful dream that had me slippery as all get out between my thighs, which was the very last thing I wanted to be when I was in bed with my best friend.
“What the fuck?” Her voice sound like she’d swallowed a box of rocks.
“Gin, I’m sorry. Did I wake you?” I lifted up onto my elbows and pushed the long strands of hair out of my eyes.
She sat back on her heels, her hair a wild, wavy mess of blond curls. Her good eye narrowed, the other swollen shut. Seeing her alive, safe next to me, I swear she’d never been more lovely.
“Yeah, you did, while you were trying to dry hump me!” She frowned and chuckled into her hand. “Dirty whore!”
I’m certain my eyes widened so much that they could’ve popped out of their sockets like one of those squeeze stress dolls—squeeze the body and their eyes bulge out. Let go, and they go back to normal. That’s what I was feeling right then.
“No way.”
“Yes way! You were all moving around talking in your sleep.” She got up on her knees and rubbed her hands down the sides of her breasts and along her waist. “Oh, Wes, baby, yeah.” She winced and then her hand flew up to her busted lip. “Ouch.” She kicked her leg out and tagged me right in the thigh. Not hard enough to bruise, just enough to get her point across. “Don’t make me move and laugh. Can’t you see I’m all fucked up?”
I covered my face with both hands. “Uggh, I’m sorry, Gin. It’s been weeks since Wes and I were intimate, and then I had this full on make out session with Blaine last night and Max interrupted me, thank God, before it could go any further.”
“You made out with Blaine, the fucker that had me kidnapped?” Her eyes changed to dark blue, indicating her instant anger.
“No! Well, yes, but I need to explain. Hear me out.”
Ginelle pursed her lips, cringed against what I assumed to be pain from the cut, and then crossed her arms over her chest. “This better be good. Being woken up by a crazy broad humping your back while you sleep needs a solid explanation.”
I went through the entire event from the minute I got his text with the video through my date with Blaine and what happened at the restaurant to our agreement of one kiss for the extra week of time with the caveat that he’d let her go. She seemed a lot more even tempered once she realized I’d done it for her. It worried her, though, that I got so into the kiss. It worried me, too, but for different reasons.
I definitely did not want to hook back up with Blaine in any way, shape, or form, and had no desire to betray Wes by fucking my way out of debt. All that aside, I still didn’t know what to do.
“So you were kissing him and then all of a sudden you imagined Wes?”
I nodded. “It was so real. Blaine kissed me, and then it was like he morphed into Wes. Gin, if Max hadn’t broken it up, I don’t know what I’d have done.”
“You were that deep in your imagination?”
“Yeah. I swear, it’s like I could smell him and that ocean scent that clings to his skin even after he’s showered when he’s finished surfing.”
Gin shook her head and smiled the best her busted lip would allow. “You’ve got it bad for this guy, huh?”
I thought about Wes. About how much he was probably hurting and I felt a physical ache in my stomach. “Gin, I’m beyond in love with him. He’s it for me.”
Her non-swollen eye widened. “As in, marriage it?”
Marriage. It wasn’t something I’d ever really given a lot of thought to since my parents had failed so miserably at it, along with most of the friends I’d had growing up. But right then, in that moment, sitting on the bed with my battered best friend, my heart bursting wide open for her to see, I nodded.
“I think maybe, yeah,” I admitted on a whisper.
“Wow. You are so fucked.”
The sad thing was, Ginelle was right, because if Wes didn’t make it out alive, I’d lose a lot more than the man I loved. I’d lose my heart and my sanity right along with it.
Chapter Eight
Gin took a week’s leave of absence, explaining what happened to her. Her boss was sympathetic and told her to take all the time she needed. Everyone in town knew who Blaine was and how he controlled the underbelly of Vegas. Since neither of us were in a big hurry to be away from one another after yesterday’s trauma, Ginelle followed me to the hotel. She was still a little off, but definitely coming back to the feisty girl I knew and loved with every hour that passed. We’d spent the morning talking about Wes and where I thought we were headed in our relationship provided he made it back in one piece. She admitted that she was worried about me moving in with him, but now that she saw how affected I was over him being gone, about the dreams, and the imagination, she admitted that I was beyond bonkers over him, and just like that, she supported me. That easy.
When we entered the hotel, Max was sitting in the dining area with Maddy and Matt. He’d stayed with her overnight since I was gone. There was a spread of food over the table, enough to feed an entire army.
Max stood when he saw us. He came to me and airlifted me into a huge bear hug. I held on tight, my arms gripping for dear life as he squeezed the living hell out of me.
“Worried about you, sugar. Glad to see you back and with your friend.” He slowly lowered me back to the floor and pressed his forehead to mine. “You okay?” he asked.
I cupped both his cheeks, leaned back, and kissed his forehead. “I’m good, Maximus.” I smiled for his benefit and he returned the gesture.
Max turned to Gin who stood awkwardly, swaying side to side rocking herself. “Hey, darlin’, you doin’ all right?” He lifted a hand to her face, and Gin jerked back a step. Max’s hand fell to his side, his pale eyes turning hard, his nostrils flaring. “This is so wrong, a man laying his hands on a woman in anger.”
I huffed. “You think that’s wrong? He almost killed Pops. The man and his goons are pure evil. Now I just need to figure out what I’m going to do to put this all behind us.”
Max was about to respond when my cell phone rang. I looked around the room, and all eyes were on me. The raid was supposed to happen last night in Indonesia. Pulling out the phone, I glanced down and saw Warren Shipley’s name.
“Hello, Warren?
“Yeah, it’s me, Mia. Got some news.” His voice was calm yet firm. “You sitting down?”
I beat it to the nearest chair and plopped down, pressing the phone close to my ear. “Okay, yeah. I’m ready. Did they find him?” My heart started pounding out a violent thudding that I swore I could feel in my fingertips and all the way to my toes. It was as if my entire body was one big heartbeat.
“They got him, but the entire mission was ugly. A lot of lives were lost.”
I closed my eyes, sending up a silent prayer for all those that didn’t make it. “Tell me what happened, and where is Wes?”
“He’s safe, being treated in a secret location.”
A weight the size of a two-ton anvil lifted off my chest, replacing the worst of my fear with a much smaller weight. Now I just needed to lay my eyes on him. Kiss his lips. Hold him close and reclaim what was mine…forever.
Then Warren’s words registered. Secret location? “What? I need to see him!”
He cleared his throat. “Honey, you can’t. Not yet. They treat the victims medically, and then they will debrief them about what they might know about the terrorist cell. Any information they have could be incredibly powerful to help fight the war on terrorism. This group was particularly heinous, honey. The things they were doing to women and children not of their faith, you couldn’t imagine. That didn’t even include the eighteen tourists that were secured an
d saved through the raids.”
“Eighteen tourists? I thought it was just Wes and the five remaining crew members.”
Max sat down next to me and put a hand to my knee. It was bouncing like a five-year-old on a trampoline. Maddy sat on my other side and clutched my loose hand, kissing the top. I gripped her hand and held it close to my face, taking solace in her warmth and presence as I listened to Warren.
“Doesn’t matter. How is he, do you know?” I waited with bated breath for any scrap of information on how he was.
“All I know is that when the team struck, they started killing hostages. Apparently, they decided that if they were going to die, they’d take the vile Americans and their religious propaganda with them. One man was used as a human shield. He was dressed in their clothing, forced to hold an unloaded gun and walk out of the hut they had him in. The snipers had no idea he wasn’t one of the hostiles. They killed him and the man leading him with a gun at his back on first sight.”
“Jesus.” My heart clenched.
Warren’s voice got low. “Honey, the things they did to that woman, that actress, I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.”
Gina DeLuca.
Fuck. I hated the woman—not because I had any right to hate her, but because she’d had a casual sexual relationship with Wes at one time. She had been getting what I wanted from him but wasn’t strong enough to go for myself. Even still, I didn’t wish her any real harm. Maybe for an ugly picture of her eating a hot dog to appear on the local smut mag but not to be mistreated by the hands of sick and twisted men with nothing but an axe to grind.
September: Calendar Girl Book 9 Page 8