by C. Lymari
“Let her go,” I screeched, my nails piercing his skin, making him take notice of me.
His bloodshot eyes turned on me.
“You touch me, and I’ll call the cops,” I warned.
It was easy to stand up to a monster… as long as it wasn’t the one that was haunting you.
“Who… the… fuck… a-are y-you?” he slurred. His breath reeked of stale alcohol.
I didn’t answer him. I pulled Jess from his embrace, and once I saw that she was okay, I tried to bend over and pick up Rosie, but the man was there grabbing me by my good wrist.
Fuck, that hurt.
“Get the fuck out, bitch.” He pushed me back.
I lost my footing, but the small table in the hallway broke my fall. Ouch. That was going to bruise badly.
“That’s Juliet Dunnett, you moron,” Jess spat at her father.
Even to a violent drunk man, my name meant something.
“Fuck this shit.” He walked out of the apartment, slamming the door, making a portrait of the family fall and crash on the floor.
“Are you okay?” I started to examine Jess’s arm, but she yanked it out of my grasp.
“I’m fine.”
“No, you are not.” My stern voice was not to be messed with.
Kneeling down, I got eye level with Rosie. My sweet girl was shaken up, but at least she wasn’t crying.
“Are you okay, baby?”
“Yeah, Daddy likes to play games to see who can scream the loudest,” she said, then ran away to play with a doll she had in the corner of the room.
“We need to call the cops,” I told Jess.
This was not right. Hearing the screaming from the other side of the wall was one thing, but to witness the abuse this was too much.
Jess gave me a panicked look. “Don’t!”
“Jess,” I hissed. “This is abuse.”
“We had neighbors call it in before. The police came, and guess what? Mom denied it. She denied everything.”
“But your arm,” I continued.
“My mother is too weak to give up on my father. If I talk, we get taken away. And guess what? Rosie and I will get separated,” Jess said harshly, then slammed the door to what I assumed was the bathroom.
Making my way to the floor, I bent down to try and help their mom up. “Are you okay?”
“My husband, he’s under much stress,” she replied.
I looked down at my casted hand; once, I would have agreed with her. Lifting my purple cast, I looked her dead in the eye.
“Women shouldn’t have to be a punching bag for weak men,” I told her.
The woman looked ashamed. She didn’t believe the lies, but she stayed. She kept telling herself that one day things would get better because that was what love was all about—sticking together through good times and bad. Too bad that sometimes the bad times outweighed the good times and all you held on to was wishful thinking. And that was dangerous because, more often than not, it could get you killed.
“You are stronger than you think. You have two precious daughters that need you. You don’t have to be scared.”
The words rang through. I’d lived through them. You didn’t know how strong you were until being strong was the only option you had. Fear became secondary, and survival instinct took over.
26
Jake
The next day, I was up early, having stayed up late last night wondering for the hundredth time if it was a good thing to start whatever lustful adventure Juliet and I were about to embark on. I knew my dick wanted it, since the day I’d sat next to her in art class.
All I wanted was to finally find some fucking relief after having a hard-on for years for a woman who was unattainable—until now.
I knew I cared for her, and I didn’t want to hurt her. That much was true. I mean, I broke things off with Stacy, and she’d seemed okay with it. It wasn’t like I wouldn’t go to Moe’s anymore. Where else would I get a drink? It was a small town. Besides, Stacy knew the score from the beginning.
When I walked into Emma’s Diner, Max and Freya were already there. Max had a chalk in his hand and was in the process of writing a quote down.
“Damn. The place is almost finished,” I said as I walked to the counter. It no longer looked under construction. The place was coming along nicely.
“You haven’t been in as much lately,” Emma’s soft voice accused.
Freya arched an eyebrow my way, waiting to see if I would give them the explanation they wanted. Yeah, let me tell them I was too busy trying to get into Juliet’s pants while her older brother was right next to me. I knew they had their differences, but any good brother wouldn’t stand and listen to that type of business.
“Been busy with work,” I told them, which wasn’t a lie, not entirely.
Some days it was busy while others it was dead. We were the biggest town around. That meant people came to us first before making their way to the closest city. Superior was about an hour away. We tried to stay stocked for the same reason.
“What did you guys do for Thanksgiving?” I asked.
“We went over to my parents’,” Max answered while he seemed to think of what to write.
I turned to Freya and arched a brow. “Thanksgiving at the Dunnetts’?”
As I said it, I felt lousy, remembering Juliet’s crestfallen face when she’d told me her parents hadn’t invited her to their Thanksgiving dinner. I got that Freya and Juliet had bad blood, but that was ages ago, and in her defense, Max could have pulled his head out of his ass and done something about getting Freya back a lot sooner.
“Can you believe his mom came over to the inn to invite us?” Freya said.
Max was busy writing on the wall, his neat handwriting recognized by most of the town. I wasn’t surprised when he put an F. Scott Fitzgerald quote. The first time someone other than Emma had put on a quote on the blackboard, it had been Max, and there wasn’t a doubt in anyone’s mind it hadn’t been about Freya. Today he wrote: They slipped briskly into an intimacy from which they never recovered. -F. Scott Fitzgerald. And once again, I was wondering if what Emma and Freya said was true about the blackboard being like a magic eight ball. Because Juliet and I were about slip into intimacy, but I was sure she could be replaceable.
Stacy was.
Brooke was.
Juliet was no different.
“That’s good, right?” I asked.
“I guess,” Freya mumbled before she rushed to Max’s side and kissed him.
Emma came back with my coffee of the day.
I was about to leave but instead said, “Can I have another one?”
A small smile appeared on Emma’s face. “For a friend?”
I didn’t deny or confirm anything, not when Max and Freya were within earshot of me. Emma came back with another cup. This one was caramel brûlée, because Emma could always tell what kind of coffee you’d like. She had yet to fail me, so it must have been true, but then I was a simple guy. Juliet was anything but simple.
By the time I got back to the store, Juliet’s car was already parked, and she was waiting inside, having a heated conversation with someone on the phone.
She wasn’t expecting me when I tapped her window, and I heard her scream.
“Shit,” I muttered.
“Does your family get off on giving me heart attacks?” Juliet scolded me when she got out of her car.
I grinned at her. She was making this too easy on me.
“I’d get off on making you come for me.”
Juliet’s breath hitched, her eyes going wide, and then she turned and looked around to make sure no one had heard me.
“Jake,” she hissed. “You can’t say things like that.”
“Just because you like to lie doesn’t mean I should too.”
“I do not lie.”
“You’ve said it yourself; you have—and besides, you can’t wait till I fuck you either.”
Her cheeks turned scarlet, matching her hair.
“Is that why you’re blushing, babe?” I taunted.
I wasn’t expecting Juliet to punch my gut. I had to double over to catch my breath. For a tiny girl, she had some strength.
I ran up to open the door for her. Even after she punched me, I couldn’t help but smile at her. Seriously, there was something about her that was driving me mad. I knew insanity happened over a length of time, slowly, making you forget who you were, and I had a feeling that’s what was happening here.
“You said we were friends,” she said.
“With benefits.” I led us to the back so that we could put our coats away. “Is everything all right? You looked pretty mad out there.”
“It was nothing,” she quipped.
It was something, but I didn’t push. And that didn’t make me a great friend, but who was I kidding? It was mostly for the benefits, right?
Juliet took off her coat slowly and gracefully, making sure not to get it wrinkled. Goddamn, how did this woman make everything look fucking sexy? She had on black jeans, probably designer, with a gray knitted sweater that fell off her shoulder, and I wanted nothing more to kiss the bare skin she presented me with. All of that paired with those suede booties had my dick hard. Nope, I lied—I got a stiffy the moment I saw her.
“So I need to see all of your records from budget to inventory, store expenses, salaries and wages.”
Fuck this. I had enough skirting around what I wanted, and what Juliet wanted. And her talking numbers was sexy. See, everything she did was hot. I stared at her, and I could tell the intensity in my gaze made her self-conscious because of the way she started to fidget. I’d known Juliet for years, and she was not one to doubt herself.
I remembered looking at her wedding photo in the newspaper. Her new husband was holding her, his hands at her waist, her front to his while her face turned back toward the camera. I didn’t pay attention to the white-and-blue tuxedo her husband was wearing; all I could see was Juliet. She was gorgeous, but in that photo, she was phenomenal. Juliet wore a tight white lace dress that was backless and cupped her ass, then flared to the floor. She looked like a virginal mermaid. It was the look on her face that captivated me. She wasn’t smiling; she just looked head-on to the camera like saying “challenge accepted,” standing proud with her husband, her equal in every sense of the way.
The paper had ended up crumpled in my hand, rage coursing through me. I had gotten dumped while she ended up getting married. Just thinking about it made me angry for a different reason. I didn’t even want to think now that Juliet was steps away from me. I pulled her to me, and my wave of lust erased when she winced and screamed in pain.
“Fuck, did I hurt you?” I asked.
“No!” Juliet shouted, trying to stop me from lifting her blouse. “I was trying to hang a portrait and fell against my couch. I’m a little sore.”
I looked at her skeptically, my hands still in her shirt. Something in the back of my mind told me to keep pressing, but all of my coherent thought flew out the window when Juliet started to push me back toward the couch.
“You could make me feel better.”
It was a mixture between a whisper and a moan, and I’d never heard anything quite like it—and fuck I liked it. Last time Juliet kissed me, I was still trying to convince myself I hated her and wasn’t prepared for her lips on mine. This time, I let her initiate, but took control.
Keeping her bruised back in mind, I grabbed her ass. I may have jerked off a time or ten in high school to images of that ass. Lush. No other word to describe it than perfection, round and bouncy, and I could vividly imagine it jiggling after a good spanking. I didn’t go to the couch. Instead, I walked us to the adjacent office. Usually, I liked to get to the store half an hour before opening to get everything ready. We had more than enough time.
Setting Juliet down on the desk, I moved her loose waves from her shoulder, baring the skin I was dying to kiss minutes ago. Our eyes locked while my fingers traced a path between her shoulders to the arch of her neck. This was the last chance she was going to get to come to her senses, but she showed no hesitation.
Slowly, I bent my mouth to her shoulder, kissing her porcelain skin, nibbling the freckles that looked like the Milky Way up to her neck. Juliet arched her neck, giving me better access. When I gently bit her jugular vein, she moaned. If I thought I had any self-control before, I must have been kidding myself. My dick was so hard, I was scared it was going to fall off. My hands rubbed up and down her thighs, each time getting closer to her hot center. Juliet’s chest was rising and falling, her eyes hooded, and she’d never looked more beautiful. Not in her damn wedding photos, not the first time she gave me a coy smile in the art class closet, not when she came over to my parents’ house.
“Jake,” she whimpered as I undid the top button of her pants.
Grabbing her with one arm, I lifted her while I brought her pants down. I left her little emerald thong; it made the visual all that much irresistible. Juliet’s pants fell to her knees, making it impossible for her to move away. She was trapped. Not being able to stand it any longer, I kissed her like I’d wanted to kiss her since the first time I laid eyes on her. A thousand times, we may have wanted this, but we never allowed ourselves to have it.
My finger met the soft, smooth skin of her mound. Dipping it inside, I found she was soaked just like last time. Juliet was gripping my hair with one hand while she rested her cast-ridden one on my shoulder.
“Oh God, Jake,” she moaned against my mouth when I insert two fingers inside her.
I kept pistoning them in and out. Wet, so fucking wet I could feel her arousal all the way to my knuckles. Her pussy clenched around me. I knew she was close—her body was begging for the release we were denied last time. When I looked up at her, she had her eyes closed and her head slanted back.
My hands dug into her scalp.
“Look at me,” I demanded in a guttural voice.
I stilled my fingers inside her, and her pussy pulsated around them. I slowly grazed her clit, and she bit her lip, trying to contain her whimpers.
“Don’t. I want to hear you,” I said as I added more pleasure, rubbing small circles and heightening her desire.
Juliet started panting, her eyes not breaking away from mine.
“What’s my name?” I growled.
“Jake,” she responded, and I added another finger.
In and out. Her walls started to cut off the circulation on my fingers, and I couldn’t wait to feel that on my cock.
“Repeat it.” I put the pad of my thumb on her clit.
Juliet couldn’t help it when her head lolled back.
“Jake!” she screeched as her pussy combusted around my fingers, dripping her arousal all over my hand.
My mouth went to her neck. Smelling her soft aroma mixed with her arousal made my mouth water, dying to taste her. I lied when I said she’d never looked more beautiful before because she just proved she did. When I made her come, that was when she was goddess-like.
Chuckling against her ear, I asked, “Feel better?”
Juliet licked her lips and nodded. When she pushed me away, my heart stopped for a second, wondering if she’d finally got enough clarity for the both of us to realize this whole friends-with-benefits was utter bullshit. It wouldn’t be the first time I got left with a massive case of blue balls because of her.
In a husky tone, she said, “My turn.”
All thoughts fled when she dropped to her knees.
Fuck. Me.
27
Juliet
If you’d asked me what day it was, I wouldn’t have been able to tell you or even been able to formulate a coherent thought. It was that good. My legs still trembled, and I felt my vagina pulsate.
“Feel better?” Jake’s voice was full of lust, sending small ripples of desire to my still-throbbing clit.
I licked my lips, looking at his hard-on. It was hard not to miss through his light jeans. Using my good hand, I jumped off, makin
g sure I didn’t fall. At this point the pain in my back took a back seat.
“My turn,” I said and dropped to my knees in front of him.
Jake didn’t know it, and he never would because we were just friends, but I had never been on my knees for any man before. Not for my husband, who said only whores went on their knees, and not for the boy I lost my virginity to. With Chad, it was always on the bed; there was no excitement in our relationship. But I didn’t think Jake looked down on me for it. If anything, it turned him on more.
His eyes were blazing with fire. I wanted to make him feel as good as he had just made me feel. I’d gotten used to handling my cast, and it wasn’t an issue to pull down his pants. Jake was hard—his gray boxer briefs looked like they were ready to rip apart. My mouth watered.
My nail traced his light happy trail before I pulled down his boxers. His dick sprang free, and his musky smell hit me full force. It was pure sex and Jake. Grabbing the droplet of precum with my fingertip, I brought it to my lips, licking my fingers while I looked up at him through my lashes.
“You’re killing me, Dunnett.”
It was the way he said it that gave me confidence. His voice was strained like he would die if he didn’t get in my mouth. And I felt powerful because I knew that if I got up and walked away, he would respect it and not call me any names. He wouldn’t degrade me.
“Don’t—” I licked the tip. “—you—” I sucked the mushroom head softly. “—think—” I licked up his septum. “—you’re—” I put his whole cock in my mouth but didn’t suck before pulling him out. “—overreacting?”
This time I sucked all of him, using my good hand to grip him while I worked him with my mouth.
“Fuck.” Jake groaned, thrilling me.
I’d never had anything like him. It was real. Not because he was my husband and it was expected, or I was just doing my wifely duties. This was real because we both needed it as much as our next breath.