by NB Baker
Alright, there’s only one room left. Bingo. The bathroom. It comes as no surprise that the bathroom is nice and neat too. There’s no toothpaste in the sink bowl, not even one whisker left on the sink. Hell, even the toilet seat was down. Mary Fucking Poppins, I swear.
I just get sat down when I hear Justin calling my name. “I’m in the bathroom!”
The door suddenly comes flying open, scaring the hell out of me. “Is everything Okay?”
“Yeah, everything’s coming out just fine. Maybe even a little faster since you scared me to death.”
He runs his hands through his hair. “Christ, you scared the fuck out of me.”
“Sorry, I had to pee. What, did you think I ran away?”
“I don’t know what I thought. I just really wish you would have said something so that I could have helped you. What if you would have fallen?”
Waving my hand over my entire body, I tell him, “Yeah, I would hate to have gotten a bruise or cut. That would have messed all this up.” I smirk at him.
He rolls his eyes. “Okay, smartass. Finish up, and I’ll help you back to the couch.”
I wait for him to leave the room so that I can finish my business. But he just stands there.
“Umm, can I finish?”
“Sure.” He leans against the wall and crosses his legs.
“Umm, maybe a little privacy?”
“Sure.” He doesn’t move.
I can see that I’m not going to win this. I give him a smug this doesn’t bother me look and grab the toilet paper. The truth is, I’m beyond horrified that this is happening. I hope he can’t see how embarrassed I am.
Before I continue, I look at him on last time. “Really, I can handle wiping by myself. In private. I mean, what the hell kind of trouble could I possibly get into in here? There’s not even a window that I could escape out of.”
He hooks his thumbs in the waistband of his already sagging sleep pants pulling them down even further. “Well, had you behaved yourself and stayed put and asked for help then I wouldn’t have to. But, you didn’t. So, I have to.” He shrugs, cocky.
“So, this is all my fault?”
“Yep.”
There’s frustration in my voice. “Fine!”
I start to get up and realize that maybe it was a little tougher than I had thought. He steps in front of me and wraps his arms around me. I place my arms around his neck. My face is pressed up against his warm, soft skin. With one swift yet tender movement, he lifts me back to my feet.
Very carefully, he pulls my panties and sweats back up my legs. With his arm around my waist, I step over to the sink. He keeps his arm around me, making sure I don’t lose my balance as I wash my hands. I take a sneak peek in the mirror to see exactly how scary I look. I’m taken back at the image that is looking back at me. I clasp my hand over my mouth. My face looks like something from a horror movie. It’s so bruised and swollen I almost don’t even recognize myself. The cut above my eye looks crusty and gross. Justin steps in closer to me putting each of his hands on my hips. I slowly lift my shirt. The bruising covers both my sides and stretches out across my stomach. The tears start to run down my cheeks as I stand there silent. I look up at Justin in the mirror. He doesn’t say anything just tucks his head in my neck.
When we step out into the hallway, I can’t help but steal a glance at the exquisite portrait at the end of the hall. I’m overwhelmed with a mixture of emotions. Sadness, jealousy, even a little anger. Why couldn’t my life be like that picture? Why does it have to be such a fucked up mess?
Justin helps me take a seat at the kitchen table. He brings glasses of orange juice to the table and moves a chair closer to me.
He takes my hands in his and looks directly into my watery eyes. “We’ll get through this, together. You know that I’m here for you, right? No matter what, I’m here.”
I don’t understand. Why? Why would this amazing person want to contaminate his world with me? It can't be because he can’t get another girl. I mean he’s sweet, caring, and hotter than fucking hell. Am I a charity case to him? Or maybe he’s playing a game with me. What reason on God’s green earth would he want to get caught up in this hot fucking mess?
“Sarah, do you hear me? I’m here for you. I’m not going anywhere. I know what you’re thinking.”
I look up from our clasped hands into his beautiful eyes. “You do?”
“I do. You’re wondering why. Why this happened to you. Why things just can’t be normal. Or at least, what you deem as normal. Why you’re here with me. Why we’re here together. Well, you know what, Kitten? I don’t know the answers to all your questions. But, I do know this. I like what I feel when I’m around you. I’m pretty sure that you feel it too. I know in the deepest part of my soul that our paths crossed for a reason. I truly believe that we are both right where we should be. Together, we can find our very own version of normal.”
“Oh, you have no idea how much I hope you’re right, Justin.”
He peers into my eyes, gazing into my soul. “I am. Do you trust me?”
“I do. I’ve told you that.”
Caressing my face, he says, “Good. Now let’s get some food in you so you can take some painkillers to take the edge off.”
He takes a drink of orange juice and gets up from the table.
“Hey, Justin.”
He stops mid step and turns around. “Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
“There’s no need to thank me.” He smiles and it’s genuine.
Could he be telling me the truth? Is it possible that he feels the same ‘zing’ as I do? Could this really be the start of my very own happily ever after? Can I let go of the demons that have consumed me for so long? Yes, with him by my side, I think I can try. No, I know I can. I watch Justin standing in front of the stove making us breakfast. Oh, hell yes I can. It’s my time. This is my chance.
Justin sets a plate filled with French toast, scrambled eggs, and bacon down in front of me.
“So, this is what I smelled earlier. I thought it was the coffee, but holy shit, that sure wasn’t the case.” I make a foul face.
He grabs his chest like I just shot him through the heart. “What? I thought you said that the coffee was just a little strong.”
“Oh, umm, yeah. It was just a little strong. Strong... like tar… other than that it was… distinctively tasty. Yep, that’s it. Distinctively tasty. Don’t get me wrong I appreciate the effort. I do. I’ve always wanted chest hair.”
“Smart ass. Now eat up. The French toast recipe is a Troma family secret. My mom didn’t even tell me what was in it until I was like four years old. I’m telling you, top secret.” He winks.
With my first bite, I understand why the recipe’s a secret. I’m sure it’s one of the most delicious things I have ever tasted. “Now, this is what I smelled earlier.”
After I take a couple more oversized bites, I tell him, “Pumpkin pie spice, nutmeg, just a hint of cinnamon and vanilla. Am I close?”
Justin looks at me with a very smug look. “Ah, very wise, young grasshopper. But now that you’ve figured out the secret, I’m going to have to eliminate you. If the secret recipe for Troma French toast gets out, it will be total world anarchy.”
In the driest voice possible. “Yep, total anarchy. Absolutely.”
When we’re finished eating, I get up to start cleaning up. Can this man not only cook but he can make on serious fucking mess! The kitchen looks like a bomb went off in it.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He gives me a stern look.
“Umm, I’m going to clean up.”
He gets up from the table. “The hell you are! You have a seat in the living room. I’ll take care of this.”
"Justin, I don’t mind helping. I mean you did go to all this work making me this delicious breakfast. You’ve taken care of me. It’s the least I can do. Besides, it might do me some good to move around a little.”
“Nope, you’re going to go
rest.”
Okay, now I know I’m in some episode of the Twilight Zone.
He sits taking me by the hand and leads me back to the couch. He hands me the remote and tells me to watch whatever that he won’t be long. I giggle at him because I saw the catastrophe that is the kitchen. It would take even Mary fucking Poppins a couple of hours to get it clean.
Before going back into the kitchen, he looks at Bruce. “You, old man. You had better do a better job than you did earlier or you’re fired. You hear me?”
Bruce hangs his head and puts his paw on his face as if he’s trying to hide.
“Don’t you pay any attention to that big old’ meanie head. You come on up here and sit with me, and we’ll find something to watch together.”
I pat the spot on the couch next to me, and Bruce slowly crawls up and curls up next to me. Justin disappears into the kitchen, so I turn on the TV to see if I can find anything good. I finally settle on the comedy channel. I already feel like I could fall asleep just sitting here. After eating that big ass breakfast and not being allowed to move around, I figure there’s no sense in fighting it. I know Justin’s going to be a while, so I get comfortable and close my eyes.
A man’s voice and a cheering crowd wake me up. It takes me a minute to figure out that it’s coming from the TV. I rub my eyes trying to focus on what’s on. It’s some kind of cage fight. What the hell, I didn’t put it on this. I must have hit the remote by accident. That’s when I see him. Holy fucking shit balls from hell. It’s Justin inside the cage. He repeatedly takes quick sharp jabs at the other guy. The other guy’s head snaps back with every punch like he’s some kind of flimsy child’s toy. I can’t believe my eyes. I move so I can see the TV better.
It’s total fucking carnage. There’s blood sprayed everywhere. People are going ballistic. Jumping up and down, yelling towards the ring, and chanting out what I assume are the names of the fighter. It’s so loud that I really can’t make it out. It seriously reminds me of an out of control rock concert.
The referee is right down in the middle of the battle. How he’s not getting the holy shit knocked out of him, I have no idea. There are guys on the outside of the chain link cage on opposite sides of the octagon. I’m guessing that they are a coach or trainer maybe. The man furthest away is infuriated about the situation. He must be on the losing team. I really can’t tell which team that is because they both look like they’ve had the fuck beat out of them. The guy continues to hand on the side of the structure barking instructions and banging on the chains.
That’s when Justin just starts whaling on the other guy. Even though the other guy is getting the complete shit kicked out of him, there’s still an element grace and beauty to it all. Each strike is precise and controlled. Justin’s got blood running from a gash over his eye, but he doesn’t stop. With one swift move, he sweeps the guy's legs out from underneath him, and he crashes to the mat. Justin goes to the ground and wraps his legs around him, stretching the guy's arm backward. All the sudden, the guy starts banging his hand against the mat. Justin springs to his feet, and the referee raises his hand in victory; the crowd goes insane.
I sit here is total awe. I can’t believe that this gentle, caring guy that I see can do that kind of damage. To single-handedly annihilate someone like that. It’s not like the other dude is some kind of pansy ass either. He’s at least a head taller than Justin, if not more. His arms are bigger than my thighs. I mean seriously, this fucking guy is built like a fucking semi.
I notice movement out of the corner of my eye when Justin sits down next to me on the arm of the couch. I tear my gaze from the TV and watch Justin. The expression on his face is so intent and proud. I look back at the TV and then back toward him.
He looks down at me. “What?”
“You. That’s you. That’s you who just kicked the fucking shit out of that beast.”
He chuckles. “Yeah, well I got a pretty good beating too.”
Justin moves Bruce and sits next to me. “See that gash above my eye?”
“Yeah?”
“Eight stitches right there.” He turns his head so that I can see the scar.
I run my finger gently over the slightly raised pink flesh. Justin’s face is once again just inches from mine, teasing me. I want to taste him. I want to be consumed by him. My heart begins to beat faster as my breathing becomes shallow. He doesn’t move away from my touch, so I lean into him ever so slightly. Our lips are so close that I can feel his breath against my skin. I run my hand down the side of his face stopping at his jaw. He doesn’t move, yet I’m nervous that he’s going to reject me. I want him so much. More than anything else. I don’t think I can go without him for another minute.
My eyes move from his smoldering stare to his lips and then back again. Slowly I lean into him until finally, our lips connect. The kiss starts out slow and soft. Our tongues leisurely begin to explore and dance together. Putting my hand on his chest, I can feel his accelerating heartbeat beneath my palm. His breath is as quick and shallow as mine. My God, there’s that fabulous ‘zing’ again. We pull away from each other and Justin rests his forehead against mine.
In a desperate, breathy voice, he calls out my name. “Sarah.”
I don’t respond, only start to slide my hand slowly down his chest. Like a blind person, I trace each and every line of his rippling muscles. When I get to the top of his pants, I hear him take in a quick breath and feel his body shudder.
I slip my hand beneath the waistband and take his hard cock into my hand. Wrapping my hand around his massive shaft and begin to slowly move it up and down. The movement causes pains to shoot through my rib cage. I think it would take a bullet to my head to make me stop. Pulling his pants away with my other hand, allows me to reach down to the base of his cock and balls.
There are droplets of come glistening on his beet red pulsating head. I pull my head away from his, and he watches as I slowly slide the soft, warm liquid around the head of his dick. I take his balls into my other hand and begin to rub and squeeze them as I start to stroke him again.
My nipples are hard, and my clit is throbbing. He lets out a low groan, and I feel him tense up under my hands. This only causes the fire within me to build. Not only do I want him to consume me, but I want to consume him. I want to be the reason that he loses all control. I make my grip tighter and begin to pump harder and faster. His hips move to my rhythm. I remove my hand from his balls until I can tell that he is about ready. Then with my one ambitious squeeze, he leans his head back starts to cum. I want to taste him, so I lean down the best I can and run my tongue over the head of his dick, being sure not to miss a single drop.
I’m feeling quite proud of myself, but there’s no time for that when the throbbing between my legs is the only thing I can focus on. Right then, Justin removes my hands from him, adjusts his pants, and turns away from me.
He puts his head in his hands. “You shouldn’t have done that, Kitten. I shouldn’t have let you. I’m sorry.”
My heart sinks to the floor. It feels like someone just ran a blade from stem to stern, letting my guts spill to the floor. He’s rejecting me. I’m so humiliated and horrified. Bile starts rising in my throat. I clasp my hand over my mouth trying not to throw up. I have to get the fuck out of here. I’ll crawl out on my hands and knees if I must. I was right all along. I’m just some kind of charity case or game to him. Like he’s doing the world some huge favor by showing the poor little fucked up girl some attention. I know the truth. There’s no fucking way in hell that this guy or any guy in their right mind would want anything to do with a cluster fuck like me. Well, I can just help him out by getting the fuck out of here.
Justin is still sitting there with this head in his hands not saying a fucking thing. Which is just infuriates me. I hate fucking this mess of emotions that are running through me so much. Mortification, helplessness, worthless, anger, total overwhelming sadness. Worst of all, heartbroken. I’m pretty sure that I’m falling in love wit
h him. Dear God, why can’t I just fade away? Or maybe this is all just another horrid dream. Wake up, Sarah! Please, Sarah, wake up and make this all disappear.
I feel like a volcano getting ready to erupt. I can’t hold it for a minute longer. Taking a deep breath to try and collect myself. “I don’t know what kind of fucking game you think you’re playing. Maybe you feel obligated because you were the poor bastard that some pathetic piece of shit turned to after her daddy beat the fuck out of her. Well, let me just free you from any responsibility that you might feel. I’ll be out of here in just a bit, and you won’t have to fucking ever lay eyes on me again!”
It startles me when he leaps to his feet. In a thunderous angry voice. “Your mother fucking dad did this to you? Why didn’t you tell me? Jesus fucking Christ, Sarah! I know back at the house you said you didn’t want to talk about it. Well, now you have no choice. Damn it, Sarah, why in the fuck would your dad do this to you?”
“Justin, please, no.”
He sits down next to me and takes my hand in his. “Sarah, please tell me.”
“Fine.”
I tell the entire sick story of what happened the night my mom and sister were killed and how dad blamed me. And showed me exactly how much he blamed me every chance he got.
“Jesus, I’m so sorry. How could he ever blame you for any of what happened? How could he do this to you? I knew you didn’t want to be pushed that day about who did this to you. But your fucking Dad. I thought… Fuck, I don’t know what I thought. How fucking stupid am I?”