Running Into A Brick Wall

by Jacqueline DeGroot

  Chapter Eleven

  Brick placed me on his bed with the gentleness of a man carrying a great and fragile treasure. I looked up into his eyes and saw desire and something else—could it be the same flicker of wonder that I had, the realization that we were finally going to be able to take things further—to share this bliss.

  As he stared down at me, he undid his belt and pulled it from the loops of his jeans, then he unbuttoned and unzipped them, but he didn’t remove them before following me down to the bed. I sensed this was where his control would lie.

  He pulled me into his embrace and his hand fisted in my hair, holding me in place while he ravaged my mouth. I could feel him checking his control, fighting with the beast inside to rein it in while his lips feasted and his tongue slid into every crevice it could find. I felt that he didn’t just taste me, but that he was imprinting me—somehow marking me as his. With his thumb on my chin he forced my neck to arch while his warm lips traced the hollow at my collarbone, then up the side of my neck to the sensitive spot just under my ear where he lingered and whispered, “I have never wanted a woman like this, never had a burn that just wouldn’t go away no matter how far I got from you.”

  I shivered as much from his words as from what his tongue was doing as it glided around the back of my ear, licked my lobe and then rimmed the opening. When he breathed into my ear and thrust his tongue inside I gasped and arched my hips into his groin. He did want me. The evidence was unmistakable.

  I felt his fingers, sure and experienced, unbuttoning my shirt, splaying it wide and deftly unhooking the center clasp on my bra.

  “Ah, there are my beauties. I dream about these.” His thumb and finger pinched my nipple and I came up off the bed only to be brought back by his hand still fisted in my hair.

  “Oh, no, this time you are not getting away.” I looked up in time to see his glazed eyes move down my body, assessing his prize. His big hand cupped my breast and lifted it while his head ducked and his lips took charge. “Luscious. You are luscious.”

  My nipple was already peaked from his tugging on it, but now it was connecting like a live wire to my vagina causing it to clench with want. I moaned. He chuckled with satisfaction.

  “Like that do you?”

  I managed to sigh my approval.

  “Well that‘s good, because I can do this all night.”

  A sob burst from me as his teeth nipped the bud that was now as hard as a drill bit, then his lips sucked the nipple and the whole areola into his mouth. While he pulled and tugged with firm lips, the hand holding my head moved down the side of my face, caressing my cheek, my jaw and my neck before covering the other breast and kneading it.

  I was in heaven, as turned on as I’d ever been in my life. I wanted him to keep doing everything he was doing, but at the same time I wanted his hand between my legs, touching me in places I only allowed B.O.B. to go these days. I was getting the distinct impression that tonight I wouldn’t need four double-A batteries to bring me off, and that if all went well the real McCoy might soon replace my battery-operated boyfriend.

  It was curious that my woman’s mind was trying to make a permanent connection to this man before even allowing him entrance to my body. What was it about him that made me want to bind him to me and keep him in my universe forever? Was love doing this? Was it my going-on-thirty ticking clock? The fact that I was at my sexual peak?

  He released my nipple and slid his tongue across my breast, between the valley to the other nipple, standing at attention waiting its due. As soon as his mouth clamped around it, the zing that fed my nervous system and flooded my pussy jolted through my brain. I adore this man. I will worship at his feet. I will allow him any and all liberties he chooses to take. My body is his.

  I felt his hand grip mine, pull it up over my head and then I heard something snap around my wrist. “No,” I whispered.

  “Yes,” I felt his breath at my ear, his lips kissing my face. “I want you vulnerable, open, completely in my care. You trust me don’t you?” He lifted onto his elbows and looked into my face, his eyes assessing me, monitoring my response.

  I looked deeply into his, seeing the passion and the concern. “Yes, but Jared . . .”

  “I am not Jared, and the sooner you learn that the better.” Cold metal closed over my other wrist and his hand raised mine to join the other at the top of the bed. His eyes didn’t leave mine as he checked the handcuffs. I looked up over my head, one set of cuffs was attached to another and both were hooked over a curlicue in the metal trim at the top of the padded headboard. I could get away by unhooking myself if I really wanted to—he was giving me that at least.

  “I will never hurt you. Now I need you to relax and let me enjoy myself. Next time, I may even let you cuff me . . .” his voice was muffled by his lips, dragging down my chest and moving slowly toward my stomach. His hand patted mine and then his fingertips trailed down an outstretched arm, tracing it on the tender inside before toying with my armpit and cupping a breast. His mouth moved lower until my jeans stopped his progress. Instantly he was up, stripping me of both my jeans and my panties. As he tossed them aside he stood and admired my newly shaved mound. “Mmmm . . . dessert first tonight.”

  He gripped an ankle in each hand; spread my legs wide and knelt between my thighs. I flushed from embarrassment. As his hands slid down to my inner thighs and opened me even more, I squirmed from the humiliation. “No, no, don’t.”

  “Shhh . . .” he cooed. “I just like to see what I’m getting ready to eat.”

  Thick fingers parted my lips then slid up and down inside my slit, spreading the moisture. And even though I was handcuffed, my legs wide and open to both his gaze and his touch, I was in awe of him and what he was doing to my body. Heat flooded my core and I couldn’t remember ever being this wet, this ready.

  “Beautiful,” he murmured. “You are the loveliest of flowers and now, I’m going to sample your dew.” He slid down until he was lying flat between my legs, reached under me, gripped my cheeks and lifted me to his mouth. From the moment his lips touched me, kissed me, suckled me, I was his. Nothing had ever felt this wonderful. I had never felt this cherished. While he explored and feasted on me, I learned what being vulnerable was all about and why he had thought it so important to make me that way—for him. I was being forced to be open and available to him, to letting him have control over my body as if it belonged to him. My arms, though not truly incapacitated, were symbolic of my complete submission. He could do as he willed. I had no choice. But also, I could relax and enjoy everything he was doing, I didn’t have to participate, couldn’t participate. I was like the Queen of Sheba, being ministered to and taking, only taking from the slave that was between my legs learning with his tongue every nuance of my most private places.

  One long finger slid inside me and held. It was joined by another. I arched to press them in deeper, to get them to do more than fill me. But he refused to move them, to fuck me with them. I mewled in protest. I wiggled my hips and ground them into his hand. I could no longer stand the fullness without the pressure. I needed that elusive touch, I absolutely had to have it. So I begged, “Please . . .”

  I was writhing in waves of pleasure as he lapped at me, using the flat of his tongue to dab on my clit. I was in full orgasm mode when I felt something press against my anus. The gentle prodding became an insistent thrust and when his finger breached the rim every nerve in my body jumped the track and exploded. One orgasm led to another like firecrackers exploding on a string. The burn ignited one and it burst, sending spasm after spasm careening through me as his fingers and lips milked me.

  When I could open my eyes, I felt his hand caressing my mound, his thumb circling around my ultra-sensitive clit. His tender touches on my inner thighs, hips and buttocks, were a welcoming gesture, bringing me back to earth after such a mind-shattering series of orgasms. His eyes met mine as he levered himself up and climbed up my body until his hips were seated against mine. His heavy-lidded ga
ze flared with desire as in full push-up mode he bent and kissed me. I could taste myself but only marginally as at first he seemed stingy with imparting my essence, and then all bets were off, his tongue thrust in and out of my mouth so forcefully that I knew it was a warning, a precursor to what was coming if I didn’t stop him. And no way was I going to stop what was sure to be an amazing union of our bodies. I arched my hips into him and closed my legs so I could squeeze his erection between my thighs, milking him. His hand reached between us and he positioned himself. And then I felt him enter me.

  A man who groans as if life has just given him the best reward does wonders for a woman’s ego. From the moment he showed his immense pleasure with me, I was only focused on hearing that wonderful sound again. No matter what I had to do to get it. Hampered by my hands being trapped above my head, I only had my core and legs to work with as he plunged into me over and over again, pushing me deeply into the mattress with each forceful pump.

  A quizzical look crossed his face; it was as if he was trying to figure something out. I know he hadn’t expected me to be this tight, but this really hadn’t been Jared’s favorite place. I arched my pelvis up to meet him, letting him know by the insistence of my hips that I was not the least bit uncomfortable with anything he was doing. And then, hands griping the sheets beside my head, he began a fierce, short series of thrusts that brought his nipple within range of my mouth. I glommed onto it, sucking and pulling it away from his chest with my cheeks caved in around it. He jerked, cried out and damned near drove me through the wall. And he groaned.

  That wonderful male groan filled the room as he filled me. His nipple, still in my mouth, I looked up at him. His jaw was clenched tight; his eyes closed against the world as he emptied himself and shuddered. I felt tears flood my eyes at the wonder of this man, this man who saved me, this man who filled all of my thoughts and now, filled all of me, body and soul.

  His big hand curved around my breast as he slumped off to the side and fell beside me. He reached up and slid my wrists off the metal holder and then flicked open each cuff. He caressed both wrists and brought each one to his mouth for a tender kiss before placing each one on my belly. Satisfaction glimmered in his dazed eyes as he turned me and pulled me into his chest, my nose rubbing against the hair on his muscled pecs. He tightened his arm around my back and with the fingers from his other hand he tipped my chin up to so he could see my face. “You are amazing.”

  “Ditto. I have never come like that.”

  He chuckled, “I don’t think I’ve ever been more involved in a woman’s orgasms as I was in yours. It was as if I was coming with you, herding you along.”

  “I didn’t know it could be this way.”

  “Ditto,” he whispered as he kissed my cheek. The next thing I knew he was asleep. I watched him, magnificent in every way. Like a conqueror of old, he’d earned his respite. He was in need of recharging. Like a damsel of old, I was wide-awake and eager for validation of our tenuous bond. I wanted more of the afterplay, the flowery language of love telling me how cherished I was. But as a modern day woman, I knew the time for sweet nothings was past for the time being. The best thing I could do to earn his charming soul and to win a replay of something from his amazing sexual repertoire would be to get up and fix his dinner. I got out of bed, covered him with a sheet, closed the door between the bedroom and the bathroom and went to work setting myself to rights. Then I threw on one of his shirts and went out to the living area to get dinner ready. It was a few minutes later, as I was stirring the marinade that I noticed I was humming. I sat with a thunk on the bench of the nook. I realized that this was the first time in a long time that I was truly happy—unbelievably, ecstatically happy.

  I went to my RV and found my cell phone and called my mom and then my sister. I don’t know why, but I felt I had to share the love that was bursting out of me. After so many years of being sad and having nothing good to report, I was anxious to give the all’s well to my family, to let them know all was right with my world.

  Five minutes later, all the joy was sucked out of my little world.

  Chapter Twelve

  I realized I had jinxed myself. I’d had mind-blowing sex with an incredibly sexy hunk and now I was going to pay for it. While I’d been doing the deal with Junior, Jared had sent a copy of The Washington Post to my parent’s house. On the front page was a smiling picture of him and the news that he had been arraigned, but instead of binding him over for trial, they had allowed him to make bail. A staggering amount for most people, but not for Jared, whose chain of jewelry stores had actually benefited from the scandal and his arrest. It was great PR for his new bondage and dominant line.

  I thumbed down the contact listing in my cell phone and selected my attorney’s number. How had this happened? The man had sodomized, beat me, and held me prisoner in the basement of the home we used to share for over a week! A number of people in law enforcement, including Brick, had assured me he was going to be in jail for a long time and that I no longer had to worry about him tracking me down and finding me again. I’d been assured that I could travel openly and without fear.

  Once again, Jared had used his charm and influence and now I had to pull my head and tail in and get back under my shell, like a turtle about to get run over by a bulldozer. I was seething. The article had mentioned the name of the judge who had conditionally released him. Men were so incompetent sometimes—a woman would never have done this!

  I’d tried to feign indifference with Mom, because I didn’t want to worry her, but when I got my attorney’s voicemail, I let him have it. First, for second-guessing the legal system and being woefully wrong, and second, for not being the one to inform me that my stalker husband was free to taunt me and possibly worse. He’d been out for several days already!

  By the time I made it back to Brick’s RV and checked the potatoes in the microwave, I was so despondent that I didn’t even hear him come up behind me. I jumped out of my skin when he put his hands on my upper arms and leaned in to kiss the side of my neck. “Hi, Sugar, what are—” was all he managed to get out before I spun and lashed out with arms flailing. Thank God his reflexes are superhuman and he managed to cage one hand and deflect the blow by the other.

  “Whoa! What’s all this about?”

  He captured both of my hands in his and pinned me against the counter. His voice was feral. “Most women fawn all over me after lovemaking, I’ve even found a few doodling my name after theirs on napkins. I at least expected you to be friendly, not out for blood.”

  He must have seen the fear in my eyes for his voice softened, and his fingers drew an errant wisp of hair behind my ear. “What’s up, Sugar, what’s happened?”

  “I thought you were Jared,” I sobbed.

  He gripped my shoulders and held me away from him so he could stoop and look into my tear-filled eyes. “Jared? I thought we were done with him. What’s happened now?”

  When I didn’t say anything he shook me lightly and said, “Tell me!”

  The tears overflowed as I filled him in, choking on the anger and the fear.

  Chapter Thirteen

  After he heard what I had to say, he dragged me over to the little nook in his kitchen, sat on its edge and pulled me onto his lap. “I’m sure you’re not getting the whole story. Let me make a few calls.”

  I sat on his lap while he punched in numbers, talked to his contacts in Virginia, and ran his fingers lovingly through my hair.

  When he snapped his phone shut after the fourth call, he turned me to face him and lifted my chin so he could look me in the eyes. His were serious, but not all that concerned, so I was a bit relieved. I’m sure mine were bloodshot by now.

  “It’s not as bad as it sounds. He has an ankle monitor and he has to check in once a day with Fairfax County.”

  “Physically?” I asked.

  “Well no, not physically. He has to check in by phone.”

  “He’s a master jeweler, for God’s sake! He has every tin
y tool know to man, and he’s smart. So smart . . . you guys don’t even know! That’s not going to stop him! It probably won’t even slow him down.”

  “Sure it will. These things are foolproof.”

  “You don’t know him, he’ll find a way. He’ll be the one to show you guys who the fools are. Trust me, he’s no fool. He’ll get away.”

  “Not unless he wants to cut his foot off.”

  I sniffed and lowered my head as I whimpered. “I wouldn’t put it past him.”

  He chuckled. “Hey, I’m famished. I thought you were getting our dinner started.”

  “That was the idea, before I got it into my head to call Mom.”

  “Well, get it back into your head. I need to refuel for part two. Jared is history. He’s got some serious legal stuff going on, he’s not going to chance getting locked up forever by running you down again.”

  “I wish I was as sure as you are about this.”

  “He’s toast baby. We got him dead to rights. Ten agents saw him, saw what he’d done to you, and heard him threaten you. When this goes to trial, he hasn’t got a prayer.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Hey, I admit, I trust the system more than most. But even though he does have money and influence, there’s too much evidence against him to just sweep this under the rug. He’s going to get jail time.” He stood me up and swatted my backside. “Git ma dinner ready, girl! I’ll work on the steaks while you do that magic thing you do with the salad dressing.”

  I smiled back at him, and nodded. The “magic” I did was to mix some sour cream, mayonnaise and sweet relish with some Chili Sauce.