CALLEY (RIBUS 7 Book 3)

by Shae Mills

  “I guess we will be eating fashionably late,” she said with a grin.

  Jim wiped his hands on some paper towel. “Have no fear. I will simply crank up the oven temperature. I’m sure we’ll be ready to dine sometime before midnight.”

  “Midnight today or tomorrow?”

  “Ha ha, smart ass. Tonight, of course. Now get over here and help.”

  *****

  All afternoon and part of the evening were taken up creating a culinary masterpiece for dinner—and for the next month of dinners, Chelan surmised. When all was complete, Jim lit some candles and poured the wine. Then they dove into their labor of love.

  Stomachs full and dishes done, they retired to the living room, where Jim lit the gas fireplace. Chelan curled up at one end of the couch with Jim beside her as she sipped her wine. Just when they had both settled, Jim sprang to his feet. “I know! I should make you one of Jim’s specials.”

  “What’s that?”

  Jim eyed her slyly. “You’ll see.” And moments later he returned to her with another drink.

  Chelan sat up slowly and looked at him, wary. “Where’s yours?”

  Jim shook his head. “No, I had one glass of wine. I lose control too easily, as you know all too well. This is for you.”

  Chelan smiled appreciatively and took the drink, but there was no way she was consuming the whole thing. She wanted to keep her wits about her. Finally, she took a sip. “It tastes like root beer!”

  Jim chuckled. “That’s what it’s called. Actually, I’m surprised you’ve never had one before. I remember how much you liked root beer. But take it easy—they’re powerful.”

  Chelan nodded and took another sip. “So, how do you remember about my addiction to root beer?”

  “Because, my dear woman, half the time I can’t put anything in the fridge because of all the cans of root beer in there. They jogged my memory.”

  Chelan grinned. “Sorry—didn’t think you’d notice.”

  Jim rolled his eyes and pushed her playfully.

  “Hey, watch the drink!” She laughed.

  Jim lay back against the couch and watched her as she settled down contentedly and focused on the warm glow of the fire. He had never seen her so at ease, so peaceful, and so pliable. And no wonder—nothing like a little something extra in her drink. One way or another, this Christmas was going to be perfect, and he was finally going to have everything his way.

  He took a deep, slow breath and continued to stare at the angelic beauty next to him. This time, he indeed would not drink. He was well aware of the unconstrained aggression that surfaced with the alcohol. But even more than that, he wanted to be in complete control throughout the night, and ultimately over her. He had been with countless women. After all, with his looks and his money, they simply threw themselves at his feet with regular abandon. He considered himself a fine lover, and if he could get Chelan into his bed, he would prove it to her. And tonight was the night.

  He sat at the far end of the couch and talked lightly with her until finally, her playfulness was fully fledged. Then Jim moved to her and put his arm around her. “It was a beautiful day, Chelan. I’d like to thank you for it.”

  Chelan looked up at him and smiled. “It was you who made it so nice,” she responded. She nestled into him, completely serene, the pain of the season temporarily lost. The soft music soothed her troubled soul, the alcohol warming her thoughts.

  Jim looked deep into her glassy eyes and then down at her pretty pink lips. Tenderly, he kissed her once, and then waited.

  Chelan bit her lip. “Thank you for being here for me,” she uttered, feeling strangely tranquilized.

  “My pleasure,” he whispered, and he dipped down again, his lips meeting hers ever so tentatively.

  Chelan peered at him through heavy eyes. She wanted to push him away, but her limbs were languid. Holy hell, her foggy mind screamed. Just how much alcohol was in that drink?

  Jim withdrew and stared down into her placid face. Then he stood and collected her in his arms.

  Chelan gasped, her entire world tilting. “Oh god,” she mumbled. She tried to concentrate, but she was completely unable to form one coherent thought.

  He nuzzled into her neck and kissed her warm flesh. He nipped her earlobe as he carried her. “Now, your place or mine?” he asked in a soft, low voice.

  Chelan squinted and tried to clear her vision, but nothing seemed to come into focus.

  Jim smiled and laid her on her bed. He sat down next to her and took her hand in his, then raised it to his lips and kissed her fingers tenderly.

  Chelan blinked up at him through blurred vision. Her body was warm, but ever so heavy. She could no longer move a muscle.

  Jim held her hand in his lap and then trailed feathered touches up her sensitive forearm, and she quieted even more.

  She was so drowsy, and his ministrations on her skin felt so good that she no longer cared what was happening.

  Jim looked over her and his mouth watered. Every inch of her beautiful body beckoned to him, her soft feminine scent rousing him fully. He released her arm and stood.

  Chelan tried one last time to concentrate on him as his touch receded from her. Then she made a fruitless effort to get up, but nothing responded.

  Jim smiled as he released himself from his pants, his erection already straining. Free of his clothes, he crawled up next to her and tasted her full lips. He pulled her shirt from her jeans and then traversed her silky skin to her soft breasts. He smiled. “Oh, I love you, Chelan,” he breathed into her ear. He undid her buttons and then pulled her bra down, exposing her breasts to him. Then her took a nipple in his mouth and sucked hard.

  Chelan’s eyes fluttered opened. She tried to clear her thoughts, to think clearly, but she soon gave up once again. She knew he was on her, but for some reason nothing mattered. In fact, all she really wanted was to take a nice, long nap.

  Jim rose up and knelt at her side. He opened her jeans and then slid them and her panties from her in one indulgent motion. “That’s right, just relax, Chelan,” he whispered as he moved himself between her legs. Then he hunched over and took her breasts again.

  Chelan was in a complete haze, and her delirium was just getting worse. Through the fog, she knew what he was doing, but she had no ability to react.

  Jim released her breast and looked down into her face. Then he entered her. He moaned, his goal finally achieved.

  Chelan gasped, his unexpected entry striking her deep. She groaned in unaccustomed discomfort. Then the murk closed in on her, and she shut her eyes.

  Jim drove in hard again. “Oh god, you feel so good, Chel.” He rose up slightly and continued his hurried and forceful thrusts. “You feel so good, my love. You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this.”

  Chelan’s head lolled. She felt detached and confused. “Stop,” she slurred, her own voice sounding foreign. “Please, stop…”

  “Shhh… baby… just enjoy. I’m so close.”

  Chelan labored to moisten her mouth, but even that was too much effort.

  Finally his body convulsed. “Oh Jesus…” he uttered, and he thrust one last time. “Oh my god, that all felt so good.”

  When the last of Jim’s tremors had passed, he rolled from her and took a deep breath. He smiled and looked over to her. “Well, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

  Chelan heard a voice from far away, but it seemed unfamiliar. Her head ached and her mouth felt like it was full of plaster. She needed sleep so badly, and finally, she drifted off into oblivion.

  *****

  Early morning came and Chelan struggled to open her eyes. It was still dark. She rolled over, and slumber claimed her again.

  Hours later she woke once more, and this time she managed to clear away the cobwebs. It was light, and she looked at her clock. “What the—” It was almost noon.

  Pushing herself up, she took a moment to restore her equilibrium. She furrowed her brow and tried to think. Then she remembered drinking. �
��Oh Jesus,” she mumbled.

  She wiggled to the edge of the bed, and then she froze. She was tender where she should not be. She pushed herself to her feet, and an unfamiliar moisture coated her inner thighs.

  She reached down and touched herself, raising her wet fingers to her nose. Then her knees weakened and she sank back to the bed. She hunched forward and held her head. “No…” she whispered. “Oh god, no…”

  She rocked for a long time as she endeavored to piece the evening together. She remembered the alcohol, she vaguely remembered being carried, and she remembered being spoken to by a voice from far away.

  She groaned. It was Jim’s voice. She sat up straight and forced herself to concentrate. Had she consented? She couldn’t imagine she had. Had she gotten so drunk she had passed out? She’d known the drink was strong, but how had she so vastly miscalculated?

  Suddenly, her mind cleared completely and she stood. She grabbed her robe and threw it on, binding it tightly. She listened at her door before opening it, and then staggered into the washroom. She turned on the shower and stepped inside where she scrubbed herself nearly raw, removing as much of his contaminants as she could. AIDS seared into her mind, and she cursed herself. Now, on top of whatever had happened, she had to go see a doctor.

  After a long time, she stepped out and dried herself almost robotically, the ramifications of the whole event beginning to seep in. She dropped the towel, leaned against the vanity for support, and hung her head. “Shit, shit, shit…”

  Gathering herself together, she cinched her robe around herself again and hustled back to her room. She slammed the door. Suddenly, she hated the man. Pure and simple, he had drugged with alcohol her for his own ends, with no consideration for her feelings or her health. He had simply masturbated with her.

  Chelan clutched at her sore stomach, and Ticees loomed into her thoughts. The Emperor had deceived her with his intent, but he had not intentionally put her life on the line. The massive man had wanted her completely: her body, her love, her loyalty, and her child. Though in the end he had coerced her by threatening Korba, he never once threatened her life by his hand or with disease. He wanted it all for her. In contrast, Jim had wanted her for his all… and nothing more.

  Then her shoulders slumped. In her mind she had been just as complicit. Though she had been within the Empire for many years and had gotten used to the security of being with the Iceanean men, she was well aware of where she resided now. This was Earth. This was Jim, and she had let her guard down.

  She sighed. Did that absolve him of his crime? Absolutely not. In a perfect world, she could have fallen down drunk and naked in front of him, and a proper man would have tucked her into her bed and left her the hell alone. But this was Jim, and this was not a perfect world.

  Her stomach turned and she perched on the edge of the bed. She took a moment to deliberate. It was time to confront the man, and then it was time to get the hell out of his life, once and for all.

  Chapter 23

  Chelan dressed and then shoved a few of her belongings into her pack. She pulled a long sweater over her head and grabbed her coat. Then she opened her door and listened, but the place was silent. She placed her coat over her pack by the front door and then went to the kitchen to wait.

  She sat down heavily. She would go back to Will’s place for a bit and then head to New York once he and Marion were back. She would spend some quality time with them, then hit the road. She wanted to be on her own for a while before it was time to be picked up by Fremma. Basically, she wanted nothing more to do with her world. She was done with humankind.

  As engrossed in her thoughts as she was, she didn’t hear Jim come into the room.

  “Good morning,” came the cheery voice. Jim walked up behind her and hugged her tight about the shoulders. He pecked her on the side of the cheek and headed for the fridge. “Boy, I sure slept well last night.” He reached for the juice then turned around to face her. “How about you?”

  Chelan glared at him as she stood.

  Jim sobered. “What’s wrong?”

  Chelan took several slow deep breaths. She thought momentarily about the Iceaneans, and the respect the men and women had for one another. Jim lacked that fundamental quality, and her hackles rose. But what galled her even more was his complacency. She stepped up close to him. “You fucked me like a dog last night,” she seethed in a low and restrained voice.

  Jim recoiled. “What the hell are you talking about? I made love to you, and it was good.”

  “Good for whom?”

  “Well, Jesus—excuse me. No one else has ever complained!” he shouted.

  Chelan backed away from him. “I’m not just anyone else! And making love is supposed to be a mutual pleasure, where consent is given. You don’t use a woman’s body to masturbate with!”

  Jim was appalled by the venom that riddled her voice. But not as appalled as he was by the disrespect she was showing toward the beautiful gift he had finally bestowed upon her. He slammed down his juice and began stalking her. Then he grabbed her by the arm and wrenched her up close to him. “Don’t you ever speak to me like that again,” he growled. “I’ve had many women, and they all come clawing at my door. Not one of them has ever complained.”

  “Not one of them has had the guts to! They were all afraid of bruising your precious male ego. You took advantage of me!” She jerked out of his grip and turned from him. “I’m leaving.” And she hurried to the foyer.

  But Jim was enraged beyond all reason. He lunged after her, grabbing her around the waist and hoisting her off the ground. Chelan tried twisting in his arms, beating at his hands. “Let go of me,” she ordered.

  Jim threw her down hard on the foyer floor. “I’ll show you how dogs fuck,” he seethed.

  “No!” she yelled as she turned onto her back and kicked savagely at him.

  Jim fended off her blows and reached for her waistband. He pressed down on her, taking the brunt of her blows to his head as he stripped her of her jeans.

  “Stop!” she yelled.

  “Shut up!” he boomed as he slapped her hard across the face.

  Chelan was temporarily dazed. She tried to clear her vision, but in her moment of hesitation, he flipped her onto her stomach, stripped her of her panties, and kicked her legs apart. She tried with all her might to twist away, but he pinned her. He grabbed her arms and drew them up behind her back. With one hand he held her wrists and pushed up hard.

  Chelan cried out in agony, her arms feeling as though they were going to break. Then he bore down on her, pushing her body painfully into the tiled floor. She ceased struggling.

  Jim held her wrists as tight as he could and rose up, releasing himself from his pants. “I’ve showered you with gifts and affection, and last night I gave myself to you! And then this morning you throw it all back in my face!”

  Chelan gasped. “Please don’t do this,” she pleaded.

  “Shut up!” he ordered again. Pulling her sweater and shirt up, he looked down at her round buttocks spread before him. He shoved her thighs even farther apart.

  Chelan’s eyes went wide with terror. “Please, Jim, no!” She threw her head back and tried once more to writhe out from under him.

  “I’ll show you how dogs do it, you bitch,” he raged. “And they don’t care where they stick it!” Jim positioned himself over her, his chest heaving.

  And then it came: powerful bangs on the door. “Chelan!”

  “Jason!” she screamed.

  Jim’s head snapped back. “Shit!”

  Chelan twisted once more and scrambled out from under the stunned man. “Jason!” she cried, and she lunged for the door.

  But Jim grabbed her and flung her down the stairs into the living room. Then he looked wild-eyed at the door. “Get out of here, Jason. This is none of your affair!” he shouted.

  “Open the door, Jim!”

  Chelan cleared her hair from her eyes and then dashed to the kitchen.

  Her flight caught J
im’s eye and he started for her. “Go home, Jason,” he shouted over his shoulder. “This is none of your business!”

  Chelan jerked open a kitchen drawer. Through her tattered hair, she found the butcher’s knife. She adjusted it deftly in her hand, calling on all of her years of training. Though it was not a throwing knife, it would do.

  She rounded the counter just as Jim came through the living room. Chelan aimed and let fly. The blade skimmed his shoulder and sank into the living room wall behind him. Jim skidded to a halt, his eyes wide. He dropped to one knee. “Fuck, Chelan,” he gasped.

  “You stay down, or the next one will be dead center,” she said, and she reached over the counter and grabbed a second knife.

  Suddenly, there was a large bang and a tremendous crack. Both looked up just in time to see Jason crash through the door, his eyes wild.

  Jim jumped to his feet and started for Chelan. She drew a bead and began her throw.

  Jason launched himself forward, flying through the air and tackling Jim. “No!” he shouted as he thudded into the man. “He’s not worth it, Chelan!” And they hurtled to the floor.

  Chelan held the knife tightly and edged around the periphery of the living room to the foyer. The two men struggled, and then Jason turned Jim over and struck him hard in the jaw once, stunning him. Jim moaned and then lay still, passing instantly into unconsciousness.

  Jason sprang to his feet, his chest heaving, his eyes burning with a savagery that took Chelan’s breath away. He stared at her until she was forced to look away. Then, bit by bit, the whole ugly incident slammed into her. Her breath started to come in sporadic sobs, and she began to crumble. The knife clattered to the floor.

  Jason traversed the living room in a single bound, catching her and steadying her. Then he knelt down and drew her into his lap. He brushed the hair from her ashen face. “Chelan,” he called softly.

  Chelan looked up at him but she was unable to speak. Her mouth was dry and the words would not come. Her eyes began to drift away in search of her assailant.

  Jason shook her gently. “Chelan. Look at me.”