by J. L. Mac
“Wh-”
“I don’t want to talk about it now, okay?”
“Hey.” I reach for his arm and stop his tidying.
“When and if you want to talk about it, I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”
“That’s precisely why I don’t want to talk about it.” What? I scrunch up my eyebrows confused by what he just said.
“Now. Let’s move on to more…pleasurable topics.” His hand wanders up my cotton dress and goes right for the junction between my legs.
“Are you always ready for me?”
“Pretty much,” I say shakily. Two knowing fingers go directly to my clit and rub against the ultra sensitive gathering of nerves. My eyes slide shut. My head tilts back. With a quick jerk of my lace panties he has me bare and wanton. I see that my burly man has a method to his madness. Delicate lace panties tear easily, especially when they’re damp. He’s a dirty scoundrel. I love it. He grips my waist and lifts me to sit on his bathroom vanity. My heart pounds in my chest. I know he is frustrated and this is meant to bring relief. He isn’t going to make slow love to me. He is going to fuck me hard and fast and I’m ready for it.
“Who keeps this sweet pussy wet, Josephine?” His words and breath against my cheek elicits an all over shiver.
“You do,” I say softly. Two long fingers slide into me furthering my need for him to fill me.
“And do you know why this pussy stays wet for me, Josephine?” His fingers glide over my inner walls three, four, five times before he pulls them out. I shake my head no. He pops the two fingers covered in my arousal into his mouth and hums delightfully as he sucks them clean.
“Because…” he unbuttons and unzips his suit pants freeing his erection. It twitches and juts outward in my direction.
“This…” he slowly hitches my dress up around my waist. I glance down and the sight of his wide tip grazing against my waiting opening makes my middle ache for him.
“Is…” he grips the shaft of his cock with one hand and slides the tip of it up then back down my seam. He comes to a stop at the opening to my body. His amber eyes lift to meet mine.
“Mine!” he bellows as he surges forward into me. I cry out loudly. No amount of sex with him can ever prepare me or acclimate me to the fullness of him. He pauses for just long enough for me to draw in the breath that his power forced from me. Both of his hands grip my hips hard. I wrap my legs high on his waist allowing him the access he demands. The veins in his neck bulge and throb with his accelerated pulse. I feel him pull out of me. Every ridge and vein sliding deliciously over my inner walls. He plummets back in deep. The wide tip of him jabs at my insides sending zaps of pleasure and pain through me. He sets a pace. A rhythm of womb jarring penetration. My hands cling to his muscular shoulders. He dives deep over and over and over again. With each plunge and withdrawal I am driven towards release. He stills with my channel sheathing his cock. I peek down appreciatively at the erotic beauty of our bodies joined together. It speeds my pulse even further. The sight of my lips accommodating his wide girth sends a new wave of heat to my center. He holds me tightly to him and cups my ass to lift me from the counter. I am pressed to him. Chest to chest. He turns and walks us to the wall.
“Hold on tight baby,” he warns and I have zero doubt that I should obey him. I cling hard to him. He pins me between the hard barrier of his chest and the wall. His torso has me pinned. His hands splay across my ass. The pain of his short nails digging into my soft flesh is welcome. He pulls his hips from mine dragging his heavy cock out of me. He drives back in impaling me hard and fast. His motions continue unrelentingly. I gasp and dig my nails into his back. His growls and grunts of pleasure are the only sounds to be heard other than the moist slapping of our bodies colliding. I am completely breathless with euphoria. Abruptly, my body begins the familiar tightening and jolting as the most sudden orgasm topples over me.
“Ah, Damon!” I scream his name and my vision turns distorted and spotty. Air hisses through his gritted teeth. He charges forward once again and stills, planted deep in me.
“Fuck!” He shouts as his body quakes and his cock twitches within me. His release fills me with new warmth. I revel in the sensation.
“Never leave me, please,” His plea rouses me from my revelry. I realize just how scared he truly is of losing me. Shit, maybe he is just as scared of loss as I am.
“Why are you scared of losing me? I’m not going anywhere. My heart is yours. I couldn’t leave if I tried.” He leans forward and rests his forehead against my shoulder.
“Just, never leave.”
“I’m not.” All at once I realize that his fear is not because of me. His mother abandoned him as an infant. It has to be the reason he is so scared of losing me. My big tough man has mommy issues. Fuck. No wonder he sees Dr. Versan.
He pulls away from me and the ebbing orgasm and adrenaline leaves me with an aching ass, and a throbbing vagina. I tip toe to recover my panties as if walking lightly will somehow appease my achiness. I glance at Damon and he looks regretful. Shoot. I have to get better at hiding my occasional discomfort when he’s rough. Seeing him regretful and sad is far more painful than my minor, temporary pain.
“Don’t look like that. I’m fine.”
“No you aren’t. I should know better than to touch you when I’m so upset. I hurt my woman.” He steps over to me and pulls me into him exactly where I like to be.
“I’m fine. I love you.”
“I love you more than you know.” I smile with my cheek pressed against his chest.
“I hate that I have to leave you alone, but I have some business to handle.” Opportunity.
“It’s no problem. I was thinking about going to the grocery store.” I smooth my dress down and head for the closet and new panties. I turn to see Damon right behind me and he is scowling at me.
“What?”
“You don’t need to shop. I pay someone to do it for us.” Us. That’s nice.
“That’s such a huge waste of money, Damon. I can go to the store. I have the rest of the day freed up. I am going to lose my mind if me and Hemingway are stuck here doing nothing.” He digs out his wallet and flips it open. Here we go with the money issue.
“Here. Go buy some shit for Hemi or for yourself. Or…whatever.” He shoves a credit card in my face and the name on it catches my eye. What? I snatch it from his hand and hold it close to my face to be sure that I’m not seeing shit.
“This is my name!” I hold up the plastic card accusingly.
“Yes. You are my girlfriend. I plan on keeping you forever. We live together. You need access to funds. So there it is.” My jaw hangs open and just like that I have lost the battle. Again. He steps forward closes my mouth with one finger pressed to my chin then kisses me tenderly.
“I love you woman. You and the fur kid stay out of trouble. I’ll be home in a couple hours.” He walks out of the big ass closet that now has all my junk on one side. I look down at my feet and there’s Hemingway also known as fur kid. He licks his little puppy mouth effectively reminding me that my “fur kid” needs food.
“What are we going to do with our guy, Hemingway? He’s a mystery. Answers what we need.” I scoop up my little guy and head towards the kitchen, but not before grabbing my cell phone. I’ll call Grams. She should be able to shed some light.
I pick up my cell phone and dial Grams while absentmindedly watching Hemingway scarf down his puppy chow.
“Hello?”
“Hey Grams, It’s Jo.”
“Hey! I’m glad you called. I’m sorry about that son of mine. I swear he enjoys embarrassing me as a mother.” I click my tongue at her apology.
“He is a grown ass man, Grams. Let him act stupid if he wants. That’s not on you. Hey I was wondering if you had a minute to chat?”
“Sure. Anything for my supplier.” I hear the old woman chuckle and it distracts me from my task for a moment.
“So, I was wondering about Damon’s mother. What’s the story
? Like, the whooole story.” She sighs knowingly and I can tell she is going to give up the goods.
“Well, I guess you’ll find out sooner or later. Damon’s mother was young. Very young. Edward was already married and had a baby on the way with my now ex-daughter in law. Well, from what I know, Eddie was fooling around with this young girl and got her pregnant. With Damon. Her name was Beverly. I don’t remember the last name, but I do remember her first name was Beverly. Anyhow, Eddie was awful to her and once Damon was born she showed up to my house with a tiny baby boy wrapped in a blue blanket. Said his name was Damon Cole and he was all ours to raise. Said she was too poor and young and couldn’t stand the sight of him. Now, I’ve never told Damon that part so keep that to yourself. It doesn’t surprise me though. I heard the way he spoke to her on the phone once. Eddie is a shameless man. I wasn’t going to let him treat my grandson that way so I made him do the right thing and raise his son. My daughter-in-law divorced him soon as she found out about it all. She left with my granddaughter and she wouldn’t have anything to do with Eddie after that. I can’t blame her.” My mouth hangs wide open and I hear Grams let out a long sad sigh. My poor, poor Damon.
“I can’t believe…I’m so shocked. No wonder you sent him to see Dr. Versan when he was a teenager. He must have been dealing with a lot. With a drunk for a dad and his mom leaving him like that.” She lets out another sigh.
“Well actually that’s a whole other tragic story. He started seeing Versan after the accident.” Accident? What accident? He has never talked about any accident. He knows about my accident, but has never once talked about himself being involved in one.
“So why exactly did he need Versan after the accident?” Please keep talking. Please keep talking. I can hear her take in a deep breath and I know she is hesitant to say anymore.
“Honey you have to understand. He was only seventeen when that horrible thing happened and he couldn’t quite handle it.”
“Handle what?”
“He and Eddie were arguing and they crashed head on into a family.” My heart seizes in my chest and all at once familiarity berates me like a shotgun blast.
“When did this happen?” My eyes lock onto a spot on the floor and I can’t tear them away. My focus is completely consumed with Grams story.
“Back in June of 96 I believe. The mother and father were killed. There was a little girl that Damon pulled out of the car, but we never knew what happened to her. I think she made it, but when we search for information about her we were held up at every turn. Red tape with the foster system and all. Damon never got over it. He said the little girl broke his heart. She was screaming for her parents and covered in blood. He said he knew they had passed, but just held the girl to him and carried her away from it. Don’t you understand? He blames himself for the accident. For killing those poor people.” My eyes bulge and my heart squeezes.
“I have to go.” I hang up before she can respond. My eyes stare off into space while I try to focus on breathing. He killed my parents. The man I am in love with killed my parents. He took Maman and Papa from me. My entire fucking life has been hell because of him. I hate him. I hate him almost as much as I love him and being split like this is a hell I wouldn’t wish on anyone.
Do something. Anything. I snap out of my trance and look down at Hemingway. I scoop him up and jog upstairs to the bedroom. I set him on the bed and hurry into the closet. I grab a box and begin packing. I can’t stay here. I can’t be with him. The moment I think of it my heart breaks into a million pieces in my chest. I bend down and gather a heap of my clothes into my arms and throw them back into the moving box they came from. I toss things in haphazardly then head to the bathroom to do the same thing there. I gather up all of Hemingway’s shit and pack it in a hurry. One by one I carry the boxes down to the big gray sedan I inherited from Captain. I can’t believe I’m leaving. I don’t want to leave. But, I have to leave. He killed my parents for God’s sake. He knew who the fuck I was! He had to have known. The thought of him knowing and keeping it hidden has my blood boiling. I do one more pass through the penthouse to see if I missed anything important. I search for my mother’s watch but it’s nowhere to be found. Dammit! I load my puppy into his carrier and leave.
I arrive at Sutton’s house and hesitate as I turn the lock and walk in. There’s still plastic wrappers on the floor from the sterilized medical supplies that the paramedics used on him. I set Hemingway’s carrier down and collapse in a heap on the floor. I sob and sob. For the loss of my parents. For losing Sutton. For falling in love with a man who my absolute missing half and for forfeiting him to circumstance. I pound my fist hard on the floor sending sharp pain radiating through my arm.
I have to go see him. I have to try to explain why I can’t be with him anymore and I need answers. I need to know if everything was a big lie. If what we have is a lie.
“Please, not Damon. Not him,” I cry out to no one. Tears course down my heated face. My eyes swell and burn, but it’s nothing compared to the utter torture that I am feeling inside. I have betrayed the memory of my parents by falling in love with the person who caused their death. I could never forgive myself. I ache for Damon too. When he discovers what I know and that I’ve left he is going to lose it. I don’t want to hurt him like his mother hurt him. I love him too much to ever cause him pain.
“Dammit!”
I pull into parking and step out. When I enter the high rise I look to Howard and hear him talking on the phone at his desk.
“She just walked in now, boss.” I don’t even acknowledge him as I walk right past to the elevators. I rub my miserable eyes and take a deep breath. The doors ding and slide open.
“Here we go,” I mumble to myself as I step out into the main foyer. I punch in the code and open the door. I walk into the room on unsteady legs. My hands are shaking uncontrollably. I can feel my lip quivering and I don’t bother trying to hide my emotion. I let it flow uninhibited by my normal self control.
“You knew.” Damon’s gaze snaps to me and without saying a word I know that I’m right. The sorrow and regret I see in his eyes crashes down on me like the heaviest of burdens.
“No. No.” I’m shaking my head begging for words of denial from him, but he says nothing. He stands and starts towards me, but I reflexively begin backing away as he advances.
“No. Not you, Damon.” My voice cracks through my quiet sobs.
“Josephine. Baby, listen to me.”
“NO! Don’t you fucking call me that!” He stops in his tracks and runs his hands through his dark mussed up hair. Part of me wants to wrap my arms around the man that I love so completely, but the wounded part of me wants nothing more than to make him hurt like I have hurt for sixteen long, miserable years. We stare at each other for a moment. What the fuck am I suppose to do with this? I fell in love with the man who killed my family. He let me fall for him. He knew who the hell I was and he never said a word. He swept me off my feet. He made me want him. Then he made me need him and now I can’t imagine my life without him. I love him more than my next breath. I need him more than my next breath.
“Jo. I wanted to tell you. I tried to tell you. Dammit, you have to believe me, baby.”
“How long? How long have you known?” My voice is a small whisper but menacing at the same time. Damon’s amber eyes are no longer warm and inviting. They look tormented and empty as they shift all about. His chest deflates and I am torn between gathering him into my arms and attacking him.
“When you gave me your e-mail address at the coffee shop. I thought I recognized the name. I checked to be sure. Then the watch. I remembered seeing it on your mom’s wrist when I checked her pulse. I found the scar on your leg and confirmed it. I knew it was you.”
That’s why he was all weird about my scar? He knew it was from the accident. He verified my identity while we were intimate for the first time? “You son of a bitch. You saw the scar and the watch that proved who I am and you still fucked me? Or maybe that’s w
hy you fucked me. In reality it’s probably the only reason I’m here right now. Right? Trying to make it right? Trying to shower me with your money and your gifts so that you can call it even? So that causing the death of my parents won’t feel as shitty? I’m a fucking charity case. That’s what this is. You don’t love me, you are trying to settle the score. You have no fucking shame and I can’t stand the sight of you.” I knew my words had to hurt him because they tore through me as I said them. I don’t want to believe a single word. I don’t believe that he doesn’t love me. I can’t. But, my judgment is distorted. This is so fucked up. It’s more awful than my worse night mare.
“Please let us try to figure this out. You’re my everything. You’re my world. I need you.” He starts moving toward me again and I put my hand out halting him in his tracks.
“Yeah, well I don’t need or want you. I hate you, Damon.” I lied. God, how I lied. I need and want him more than I can express. Words fail me in the worst way when I try to think of ways to describe how much I love him.
I turn in place and will my numb body to carry me away from this place as fast as it can allow. By some miracle I find myself speed-walking back to the door. I know Damon is hot on my trail. I can feel him near me like I always do. His fingers clasp the crook of my elbow and spin me to face him. I wrench myself from his grip.
“Don’t touch me!” I clip out on a growl. Damon’s face is one of complete despair and I ache more at the sight of it. I can’t believe God would be so unfair. Why in the world would I be put through this? It isn’t fair. I have lost everything. I love a man that I can’t possibly allow myself to have. He is the reason my life has been so awful. He knew the truth and hid it from me. He sinks to his knees in front of me and my heart clenches in my chest so hard that I think I may be having a heart attack. His head is hanging down. He stares at the ground. I stand there wishing that I could change everything. I wish I could be his and he mine. But it just isn’t possible. I hate life for doing this to me.