Love Under Two Outcasts [The Lusty, Texas Collection] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)
Page 22
Kicking and wiggling for all she was worth, Charlotta tried to break his hold. He cursed and swore the entire distance back to the bunkroom. Tossing her onto one of the cots on her stomach, he came down over top of her, the weight of his body pressing her into the thin mattress.
“You keep pretending you don’t want it, whore. Makes it more fun for me when you fight like a little hellcat. I like it rough.” He ground his erection against her ass.
Charlotta’s stomach began to pitch, and she wondered what he’d do if she puked all over him. Still struggling against his hold she did her best to resist his turning her over onto her back, but her strength simply was no match for his.
He moved his leg to straddle her, and she lifted her knee, catching him in the balls hard—but not hard enough.
“Fucking bitch!” Movement blurred, and the back of his hand connected with her face. Her left cheek exploded with pain and she actually saw stars. Stunned, Charlotta stopped fighting for a second—just long enough for him to straddle her and tear at her blouse. The sound of the fabric ripping and a button hitting the floor gave her a surge in energy.
“No!” Charlotta kicked, punched, squirmed, and screamed. Gene grabbed one of her wrists, but she yanked her hand from his grip. Blind terror flooded her senses. She struggled against him, terror drawing a feral kind of growl from the depths of her soul.
Running steps and male shouts made her jerk. Gene started to look over his shoulder, and then he was gone, no longer pinning her down to the cot. The thumping sound of fists hitting flesh again and again seemed surreal, as did the words and epithets hurled in familiar, beloved voices.
Charlotta tried to shake her head, clear the confusion in her brain—and groaned when that action precipitated a vicious pounding.
The thumping sound stopped with the sound of something hitting the floor, and then arms surrounded her. She jerked, but relaxed as the soothing scent and touch of her men enveloped her.
“I’ve called the police,” a feminine voice said. “He’s out cold, but don’t worry. I’ve got him covered.”
Charlotta recognized the voice of Miriam Conway. She moved slightly, and Jesse and Barry helped her to sit up better, and see.
Sure enough, there was the stable owner, a fierce scowl on her face, as she held a pistol in a two handed grip, pointed right at an unconscious Gene Harris. Charlotta was relieved to see the bastard more than a little bloody and, as Miriam had said, out cold.
“Thank you,” Jesse said. “Baby? Are you all right?”
“Princess, talk to us.”
“I…yes, yes. I’m okay. I’m okay.” Charlotta struggled to sit up better and hold her blouse together at the same time. Two pairs of hands helped her. She looked from Jesse to Barry, and the realization that it was over, that she was safe, slowly sank in.
“I’m okay. I hope you hit that bastard hard.”
“Of course we did, sweetheart. He had his hands on you.” Jesse said. He lifted her chin with a finger, his touch gentle. His wince told her she probably already had a bruise forming.
It’s over. I’m okay. I can relax. Charlotta inhaled deeply, reaching for calm, trying to settle the slight shaking.
“Thank you. Oh, God, thank you for getting here in time.” And then she burst into tears.
Chapter 23
Charlotta had to re-think her entire self-image. She’d always considered herself a capable woman, fully able to handle whatever curveballs life tossed her way. She’d been innovative at times, as she’d proven when she’d found a way to pay for her college education.
She’d handled the role of being an exotic dancer at a gentlemen’s club with aplomb. She was willing to admit that part of the reason she could was because of the excellent attitude of the club’s owner, and the superior security given to the dancers.
She’d weathered the fight with her parents, including the part where her father more or less disowned her, she’d moved to an entirely new city and taken on a job that many people would say was too much to handle.
And she’d done it all, mostly, with a smile on her face and a bounce in her step.
Yet one ten minute stretch of time—she was shocked when she realized that was how long she’d fended off Gene Harris—and she’d been reduced to an insecure, needy, clingy female.
“We aren’t going to the house?”
“We are,” Barry said.
“Right after you see Robert Jessop.”
“I’m fine. Do I have to? Really? He didn’t…” She couldn’t even finish the sentence.
“Baby, we know he didn’t. But you took a blow to the head. Ever since what happened to Jackson, we Benedicts don’t mess around with those at all.”
Charlotta did recall learning about why the Wonder Twins of football, Cord and Jackson Benedict, had retired unexpectedly from the NFL.
Jackson had suffered a concussion, and the doctors had told him another could kill him.
The fact that she wanted to pout and stomp her foot and argue against the very reasonable step of seeing a doctor told her that just maybe seeing a doctor was a very good idea.
She hadn’t expected Grandma Kate to show up.
Charlotta thought there’d be paperwork and such to do on their arrival at the clinic before she actually saw the doctor—alone. Instead, she was ushered right in to an exam room. She didn’t even have to wait for Dr. Robert Jessop to arrive, he was already in the room waiting for her.
Robert winced when he got a look at her puffy, sore, and colorful cheek. He looked over at the young woman who’d been at the reception desk.
“Jillian?”
“On it.”
“I’m sorry we have to meet like this. I’m Robert.”
“Hello, Robert. Shouldn’t I call you Dr. Jessop?”
“Well, you can if you like. But since there could be four of us here at any given time by that name, it might be confusing.”
The woman—Jillian—came back in moments with a small ice pack, which she gave to Jesse.
“Thanks, sweetie. Come meet Charlotta.” Robert grinned. “Jillian’s our wife—mine and my brother David’s.”
Jesse gently applied the pack to her cheek.
“Hi, Jillian.” She looked down at her very large baby bulge. “When are you due?”
“Oh, any day now. I’m not actually here at work. I’m here because David had to go into Houston, and I have to be within sight of one of my men—since I’m the first woman, ever, to be in this condition, you know.”
Robert grinned. “I think we’ll have our baby very soon, as my sweet wife is being very puckish, lately.” Then he turned and looked at his wife. “I love you, Jillian.”
That took all the huff out of her. Her eyes glistened with tears. “I know. I love you, too.” She leaned over and gave him a light kiss. “Now I’ll go and sit in the kitchen with my feet up like a good little sub.”
“New dads tend to be on the nervous side—whether they’re Doms or not,” Charlotta grinned when Robert met her gaze.
Then he nodded. “I know—I think Jillian will be relieved to have the baby so that we’ll stop hovering.”
“You won’t stop hovering,” Charlotta said. “You’ll just focus that hovering on the baby.”
“I can see you’re good at your calling.” He nodded to Jesse, who lifted the ice bag from her face.
Barry stood on the other side of her, and she was both surprised and relieved no one asked them to leave.
Robert’s finger just barely traced over the injury. “I think the ice will help with the swelling. Did you lose consciousness, Charlotta?”
“No.” Charlotta sighed. “Let me amend that. I don’t think I did. But I saw stars and was stunned for a few seconds after he hit me.”
“We’ll take an X-ray just to ensure there’re no broken bones. I’m going to test your visual responsiveness.”
For the next few minutes he did just that, and also checked the vision in her left eye. They had an imaging department�
�Charlotta thought the clinic was better equipped than some hospitals she’d seen.
The most impressive part was the lack of waiting. They walked down the hall, took the X-ray, and then came back to the exam room, where Robert got the image up on his computer.
“No broken bones. How’s your headache?”
“Barely there.”
“Good.” He nodded toward the door, but since she wasn’t facing that direction at the moment, she had no idea who had arrived.
“Oh, my poor sweet girl.” Grandma Kate came right up to her and laid her small hand on Charlotta’s uninjured cheek. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine, Grandma Kate.” Seeing the concern in Kate Benedict’s eyes brought tears to her own. And while she’d been able to be cool with Robert, and even her own men, for some reason she couldn’t quite pull it off with this woman. “I’m a bit shaky still. I’ve never…” She let her sentence drop.
“Who could ever anticipate being attacked by such a brute?” She glanced over at Robert. “Did you happen to have a look at the boys’ knuckles, Robert?”
Robert raised one eyebrow and then looked at Jesse and Barry. “I didn’t know I should.”
“We’re fine, Grandma Kate.” Barry said.
“They barely hurt at all,” Jesse said.
“Everyone seems fine,” Kate said, “but me. I’m not fine. I’m mad as hell. I wish we’d known that odious man was such a scoundrel. Imagine, thinking that a woman isn’t a lady just because she danced for a living for a few years to pay for her education.”
Charlotta’s eyes widened. “You knew about that?”
Kate waved her hand. “Oh heavens, yes. You and that sweet Camilla are best friends. Why, I’ve known about your job at the Dollhouse before you were even hired at the center. I thought it showed an impressive level of commitment on your part.”
“Oh.” Charlotta couldn’t recall the last time she’d been rendered speechless.
Robert got up, fetched some supplies out of one of the cupboards, and then came back to his stool beside Charlotta.
He looked at Jesse and Barry, and once more raised that dominant eyebrow of his. Charlotta held out her hand for the ice pack. Then she gasped when she got a look at both men’s knuckles.
They were raw and, though not bleeding at the moment, the dried blood splattered across their skin certainly told the tale.
“I’ll disinfect them. Try to do the same a couple times a day. I’ll also say that I hope the other guy looks much worse.”
“I believe he does,” Kate said. She looked over at Jess and Barry, and Charlotta saw the approval in her gaze. “Much worse—and he won’t be harassing any other sweet girls for a long, long time.”
She turned back to Charlotta. “I’m very sorry this happened to you, Shar. But I’m very happy that you’re all right. Now, when Robert gives you the all clear, I expect you to go home and let your men take care of you. You’re leaving for Divine in the morning?”
Charlotta looked at Robert. He nodded. “I think you’re going to be fine. Ice, off and on, will help the swelling. Sorry, but you won’t really be able to disguise the bruising, so it’s yours for New Year’s Eve.”
“I really don’t care too much about that. As Grandma Kate said, I came through it all right and that’s the important thing.” She nodded, once. “I think the best thing I can do is just carry on and not give that son of a bitch another thought. At least, not until I’m on the witness stand, ready to send his ass to jail.”
Kate Benedict grinned. “You’re a woman after my own heart. I’m so glad you’re my granddaughter.”
Charlotta thought she just might start to cry again. But this time, they’d be happy tears. She hugged the woman again. “I’m so glad to be your granddaughter. And to answer your question, yes, Grandma Kate. We’re heading to Divine tomorrow, and going to the Dancing Pony on New Year’s Eve.”
“Oh, what fun! I love that place. You be sure and give everyone there a hug from me—especially Grace and her men, and that handsome Seth Carter and his pretty wife, Jayne.”
* * * *
Here, in the sanctuary of the master bathroom in their leased house in Lusty, with the steam rising up and the sound of the Jacuzzi jets soothing, Jesse was finally able to relax.
“Maybe I should be the one to be pampering the two of you. After all, you got hurt defending me.” Charlotta reached for his hand, and Jesse gave it to her. She placed sweet kisses on his knuckles, and then she did the same for Barry.
He would have killed that bastard Gene Harris if it hadn’t been for the way Charlotta had looked on that cot—bruised, shivering, and terrified. She’d whimpered—just a small sound—and it had damn near broken his heart.
So instead of beating Harris to a bloody pulp, they’d just made quick work of knocking him out.
It had helped considerably that the bastard had a glass jaw.
“You’re going to have to put up with being pampered until the terror leaves us,” Jesse said. “That’s going to take a while. But maybe we could just pamper each other.”
“That’s a deal. I was terrified, too. I wasn’t at first—at first I was just mad. It never occurred to me that he’d try to…try to rape me.” Her voice quivered just a little. The hardest thing Jesse had ever done was tamp down the fury that ate at him. He couldn’t give in to that. For Shar, he needed to listen, to hold her hand, and to love her.
He caught a quick look at his brother and knew Barry fought the same battle.
“Sorry.”
“Do not apologize, princess. Say what you need to say. Cry some more if you have to. You’ve nothing to be sorry for.”
“No. No more tears. I was trying to explain that I was just mad that he was being an asshole—acting as if my having been a dancer meant I was available for anyone at anytime. What is it with some people?”
“Narrow minded assholes,” Jesse said. “I guess we all have the same hurdle, don’t we? Not letting other people’s perceptions of us become our reality. Not letting the opinion of others define us. It’s not so hard to do when that person is an asshole like Harris. The courts will let him know that his opinions are dead wrong. It’s much harder when the person spouting off is someone who’s supposed to be on our side.”
“I guess that was part of the reason I got so mad. That bastard said some of the same things to me my father did.”
“Princess, if you want to stay home tomorrow, we can. I know Veronica, Hank and Travis will understand.”
“No. No, if I let this…reaction go any further, then Gene Harris wins—and I’ll be damned if I let that bastard steal one more bit of my peace of mind.”
Jesse felt such pride in her. “I love you, Charlotta Carmichael. I love you with everything that’s in me.”
“You’re amazing, Charlotta. I love you so much. Thank you for being ours.”
“I love you both too—so very much. Let’s get out of this tub and go to bed. I want to feel you around me, your skin on mine. I want to just revel in this love we have.”
Jesse grinned. “That’s the best idea I’ve heard all day.”
* * * *
Nothing can harm me, here. This place is where I’m whole and safe and secure. Lying on her back, with Jesse and Barry on each side of her, snuggled close, looking down at her, Charlotta finally felt whole. She sighed as the heat and the heart of both her lovers surrounded her.
“This is our sanctuary. Not this physical place, but this…this spiritual one, when we’re together, just us. I love being between the two of you.”
“Trust me when I say we sure as hell love having you here between the two of us. You were meant for us. You know that, baby, don’t you?”
“Mmm. I was thinking that earlier, when we drove from Waco to Lusty. That’s when I began to feel me come back. When I had one of you on each side of me, pressed close, and I knew you’d take care of me.”
“We’ll always take care of you, princess. And I hope you’ll always take car
e of us, too.”
“I think that is a wonderful idea—and the perfect ideal. Let’s make it a vow to always take care of each other. Starting right now.”
How easy it was to use her hands to stroke the chests of the men she loved. Nothing mattered to her just then but that she pleasure them, that they reaffirm their love for one another in the most basic, human way possible.
Charlotta knew herself well enough to know that if Harris had been successful today, she would eventually have recovered.
But she knew a piece of her would have been damaged forever, because this, what she shared with Jesse and Barry Benedict, was sacred. Her body, now and forever, would only be for them—and theirs for her.
“Let it go, baby. It’s over. He didn’t touch you.”
“Be with us, princess. You’re ours, and only ours. Be with us, now.”
Her tears shimmered, her heart full of love and gratitude. They knew her so well already, could see her emotions when no one else ever had.
How had she ever gotten so lucky?
“Yes. Make me yours. Just yours.” She didn’t have to tell them what she needed. They knew.
Jesse and Barry kissed and stroked her, their mouths and hands, their lips and fingers spreading heat and arousal as they paid homage to every inch of her body. Her cheeks, and neck, her shoulders and breasts, every part of her felt loved and cherished and cared for.
Barry turned her head toward him and kissed her, his lips wet and wide, his mouth sucking on hers even as his tongue stroked and delved. His flavor seeped into her, became a part of her, and she knew she never wanted to be without this taste.
Jesse kissed his way across her stomach, until he could stroke his tongue over her slit. Her clit knew this man, and craved his oral attentions. He found the nub easily, running his tongue over and over the pink delicate flesh until Charlotta trembled with arousal.
“Go up.” He whispered the words against her labia, and the vibrations of the sound just got her hotter.