Casting Stones (Stones Duet #1)

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Casting Stones (Stones Duet #1) Page 25

by L. M. Carr


  David calls my name and asks me to come down to the front. Magda, the girl from India, rolls her eyes at me and mumbles something about kissing the professor’s ass.

  “Hi.” I stop short of calling David by his first name; that’s not something I do in public. “Hello, Dr. Taylor.” I nod at her. “You wanted to see me?”

  “Yes, two reasons actually.” David leans back against the desk and crosses his long legs at the ankle. “What did you think of today’s class?” He gives a sideways glance to his guest speaker.

  “It was informative. It really makes you feel for these people. Too often people who suffer from PTSD are told to ‘get over it’; outsiders don’t understand it.”

  “That’s interesting,” Dr. Taylor steps forward just as my phone buzzes with a text message.

  I know David senses my annoyance at this chit-chat. I’m exhausted and really just want to run my errand so I can get home.

  “Is everything okay? You seem tired.” He peers at me from behind his glasses.

  “Work was busy. I’ll be all right after a good night’s rest.”

  “You know you can’t continue to work there once your internship begins.”

  My eyebrows shoot up and my face displays a look of skepticism as I chuckle cynically. “Unless school hours have changed in the past ten years, I’m pretty sure I can’t be in two places at the same time. Lenny already knows I’m leaving over Christmas break.”

  “Good. I’m glad to hear that.”

  “Is there anything else?”

  Dr. Taylor answers for him. “Yes, we’d like to invite you to dinner.

  My eyes bounce back and forth between the two professionals. “Uh…sure, I guess.”

  David pushes himself away from the desk and stands upright. “I’d like you to get to know Chanel and she’d like to get to know you.” He places his hand at the small of her back.

  Awkward does not begin to cover the situation I find myself in. “Sure. Cool. I’ll call you.” I sling my backpack over my shoulder and say a quick goodbye before responding to the several text messages on my phone.

  After a brief response to Simon and Jenna, I press the first name saved under favorites. I need to hear Shane’s voice. I need to talk to him even if it’s only for a few minutes.

  I unlock the bike lock and listen to the ringing on the other end of the line until I hear him pick up. A snapping sound startles me and I look up just in time to see a tree branch fall. Quickly I move out of its path, but a single branch manages to graze my neck, leaving a raised scrape. Could this day get any worse? I long to hear his voice. I need to say three little words and, if I’m being honest, I need to hear them back.

  The voice that responds is not his; it’s a woman’s.

  “Hello?” I ask before I look at the screen to confirm that I dialed the right number.

  “Can I help you?”

  I want to tell her that she can start by telling me who the hell she is and why she’s got Shane’s phone, but I don’t.

  “Is Shane there?”

  “Mr. Davis is unavailable at the moment.”

  The muffled giggle makes the hair on my neck rise.

  “Isn’t this his cell phone?”

  “It is.”

  “And you are?” I can’t resist asking.

  “His secretary.” Her implication is that she is more than just his secretary. Much more.

  “Oh…okay. Just tell him I called.”

  “And you are?” She tosses my words back at me.

  “His girlfriend.”

  I need this day to be over with now. My mood is sour, and I know that the pit stop I have to make is only going to put me in a worse mood.

  The thought of leaving my bike on campus crosses my mind briefly, but I know I’ll end up regretting it in the morning when I’m late for work. So I hop on and ride to my mother’s apartment to get what’s mine and possibly pay the extra rent. Maybe if she has a permanent place to stay, she’ll consider getting cleaned up.

  I rip off another eviction notice before I push the door wide open. I glance around the apartment and listen to the quiet sound of water running from the shower. I drag a kitchen chair to the closet in my room. Using the flashlight on my phone, I search in vain for the small box that has been my lifeline when I needed it most.

  “It’s not there,” my mother says with a hint of malice in her voice. She is wrapped in a towel, her red hair sopping wet as water pools at her bare feet.

  “Where’s my money?” I ask as I hop down from the chair and glare at her.

  “It’s our money. Without me, you never would have made all that money.”

  “You’re incredibly delusional.” I don’t even have the energy to raise my voice and yell at her. “Without you, I would never have to do it in the first place!” I push past her and head for the door. “Get your shit together. They’re your debts— you pay them.” I yank the door so hard the hinges creak.

  I pedal hard and fast to get away from her.

  After the long soak in the bathtub, I curl up on the couch and watch hours of mindless television while I wait for Shane to come home. Nonsensical dreams flood my mind and I startle when I hear the deadbolt open.

  “Hi,” I whisper when Shane enters the room and drops his messenger bag off by the door. “What time is it?”

  “It’s almost eleven,” he says as he drops to a squat beside me and kisses the symbol etched on my wrist.

  I eye him suspiciously when I notice his hair is matted and he’s sweaty.

  “Where’ve you been all this time?” I know how I sound, but after his secretary answered his phone, I’m feeling a little insecure. The memory of our conversation of what happened with his ex and the question about drugs mocks me.

  He lifts me from the couch and pulls my body close to his before cradling my head beneath his chin and whispering how much he missed me. As my hand slides across his chest, I feel the low rumblings of a muscle spasm. Against my back, I feel a shaky hand. “Practice ended at nine, but a couple of the guys wanted to shoot some hoops.”

  “Were you drinking?” My intention is not to be accusatory, but my tone is bitter.

  “We stopped for a beer.”

  “Oh.”

  “You have no idea how much I didn’t want to be there. I couldn’t wait to get home to you.” His soft words match the delicate way in which he lays me on the bed. Hovering over me, he pierces me with a blue gaze before he offers a soft brush of his hand to move my bangs away from my face.

  “I’m going to jump in the shower.” He kisses my forehead slowly.

  “Why? You’re just going to get all hot and sweaty again.” I reach for his head, pull his face to mine and kiss his lips. Those luscious, warm lips flatten in a grin against mine. “You’re not really going to make me wait for you, are you?” I smile as I squirm and lift up the hem of my T-shirt to reveal my naked body.

  Those beautiful blues shine with lust and desire. “Let me shower quickly. I’ll be two minutes, I promise. I smell like the gym and beer.”

  My eyes close and my head falls to the side, inhaling deeply. And a strip club. My heart sinks to the lowest pits of hell.

  “Two minutes.” He kisses my forehead and then just like that he’s gone. The only problem is two minutes turns into what feels like forever even though it’s really only about twenty. I get out of bed and slink my naked self over to the bathroom. The surprise is on me when I turn the doorknob and realize it’s locked. Dejected and feeling hurt, I walk back and climb into bed.My weary eyes struggle to stay open and soon give in, my eyelids close and don’t reopen until the alarm on my phone wakes me up.

  “Two minutes, huh?” I mumble to myself as I watch Shane lie there fast asleep.

  Another day, another dollar.

  I’m miserable again because I have to work the morning shift alone. I’m annoyed because I have to bust my ass serving food when I can make double the amount in tips in less than an hour elsewhere. I’m pissed off because Jen
na is with Collin enjoying her rendezvous and I’m covering for her. But mostly, I’m disgruntled because Shane never comes in for breakfast.

  Shane

  “SIR, YES, SIR. I understand. Stay close behind,” the young man stood eye to eye with me, raising his deep voice to be a man, to be what was expected of him, to be all that he could be, but he couldn’t hide the fear in his eyes.

  “Yes, sir,” he gurgled as I pulled him toward me, protecting his body from more damage. I unstrapped his helmet and cradled his bloody head. I bit the inside of my lip to prevent my lips from quivering. I had to be strong for both of us.

  “Now you listen to me, you are fine. I’m going to get your ass home to your wife. Okay! Do you fucking hear me?” I gritted my teeth and got in his face, praying that he would listen until help arrived.

  “Yes, sir...yes, sir…tell my wife—” Vacant hazel eyes stared into mine as he fell silent, drawing his final breath.

  Heavy footsteps came down the hall as men shouted angrily in another language. I didn’t know if it was Arabic or Farsi; it all sounded the same to me.

  I made a split second decision as I weighed my options. Realizing I had no other choice, I reached over and did the unthinkable. I wasn’t ready to die.

  The loud banging on my front door jolts me awake and sends me diving onto the floor on my stomach, my eyes widen, searching for the enemy. The pounding on the door resumes and matches the frantic pounding of my heart. I blink, slowly becoming aware of my surroundings until I hear a deep voice calling my name, telling me that we’re going to be late for work. I scramble to my feet and note the time. Fuck! I’ll never make the train and get to work on time.

  I open the door for Brandon.

  “Late night with the Missus?”

  “No. Late night with you assholes.”

  “You should’ve stayed out with us. The last girl was fucking bangin’.”

  “Whatever.”

  Brandon looks at his phone. “You going to work?”

  “Yeah. Come on in. Give me five.” I pull the door open wide and rush to get dressed.

  “Yo, we’re going to miss the train,” I hear Brandon call as I rummage through my closet to find an ironed shirt.

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ll drive.”

  Ten minutes later, we’re on the way and I realize I don’t have my phone. Now that I think about it, I didn’t have it last night either. I remember I was going to text Remy to tell her that I was going to be late but couldn’t find it. I ask to use Brandon’s phone to call her, but I’m forced to leave a quick message when after several rings, it goes to voicemail.

  “Morning, Mr. Davis,” Dana croons as soon as I walk into the office. Her shirt is too tight and needs to be buttoned properly. She licks her lips, letting her tongue linger in the corner of her mouth.

  I glance at Karen and nod my head in greeting.

  “Morning, ladies.”

  I won’t give Dana the satisfaction of a personal acknowledgment.

  Since the incident last week with the young student who threatened to take her own life, things have been relatively calm. Brandon and Eric have organized a huge pep rally to get the football team pumped up for Friday’s big game. I sit at my desk and begin the task of reading through discipline referrals. I move a pile of papers and spy my phone.

  The screen is littered with text messages from Leslie, Mia, Collin and Remy. I read through each one, choosing only to respond to some. I know if I start with my sister, she won’t be able to control the barrage of messages all morning. When I talked to her yesterday, she was happy to tell me the cancer has not spread so she’ll be starting a round of chemotherapy within the next two weeks.

  My finger hovers over Remy’s name. I think about calling her, but I know she’s working and is probably busy. I hate that I had to take matters into my own hands before I could be with her. My anger from seeing those half-naked women parade themselves around was at an all-time high. I hated seeing them denigrate themselves and hated that I was watching. I didn’t want to be too rough with her. I needed to get myself under control first.

  “Coffee?” Dana asks, stepping into my room with a mug.

  “No, thanks.” I answer sharply.

  “C’mon, Shane. It’s only coffee. Besides, I know you didn’t have breakfast yet.”

  I glare at her. “And how would you know that?”

  “Brandon told me.”

  She sets the coffee down and saunters away, offering a sly smile when she looks back.

  Call me paranoid, but I don’t trust her or anything she says or does.

  With a few minutes left to spare before the first bell rings, I stroll down to the cafeteria and grab a bite to eat. I greet the kids while they eat their breakfast; some of them seem still asleep, others are already high at half past seven. When Brandon catches up to me and we walk back toward the office, I ask him not to mention anything about what happened last night to anyone, especially Dana. All I need is for that psycho to know I went apeshit at the bar.

  “Chill, bro! I got your back.”

  “Who fucking does that? Who tries to grab a stripper and fuck her in front of everyone?”

  “Yo, I wouldn’t mind a round or two with Jade. Haven’t seen her in a while though.”

  “Jade. Red hair, green eyes?”

  Brandon releases a mocking chuckle. “I don’t know what color her fucking eyes are. All I see is tits, pussy and ass, bro. Tits, pussy and ass.”

  “Later,” I utter when we arrive at his door before I continue on to the office.

  “Don’t forget about dinner tomorrow night. Let me know if you’re in.”

  I raise my coffee cup in response.

  By the time the last bus rolls out, I feel on edge. I need to see Remy. I need to touch her. I need to kiss her. I send a text message asking where she is. She responds immediately with a few words that send me into a fit of jealousy.

  “With my advisor.” What the fuck is she doing with him again?

  Rather than respond with something stupid, I don’t reply when she texts and asks what time I’ll be home.

  When I walk into the apartment, I’m accosted by the dim light of burning candles placed all around the room, filling it with an unfamiliar fragrance. My beautiful girl is stretched across the length of the couch, wearing absolutely nothing but a smile for me.

  “Hello, handsome.” Her quiet voice is magnetic, drawing me in without a second thought. My eyes travel in a slow and deliberate line down the smooth planes of her body, as my dick stirs, offering a reminder of all the places my lips have claimed. A reminder of all the places my hands have been. A reminder of all the hidden places my tongue has traced.

  It’s more than just physical attraction, more than simple lust, it’s a need. She’s the air I need to breathe, to live, to truly live.

  The steps between us are too many, too long; desire forces me to drop the bags on the floor and kick my shoes off. Energy flows from my hands through my arms to my chest, the hard beating of my heart causes my breathing to hitch.

  “Hello, handsome.”

  I survey the surroundings carefully before I transform into an animal on the prowl.With careful, restrained strides I close the space between us. A single finger extends and runs the span of her smooth skin, gliding over every curve.

  “Hello, gorgeous.”

  My knees bend and I drop to a lowered position, meeting her face to face.Through her green gaze, I see a longing and a need that mirrors my own. Slowly, my lips close in on hers, only the air we breathe separates us before I cradle her jaw and crush my mouth against hers. I inhale her intoxicating scent.

  “I’ve missed you.”

  A tiny hum seeps through her lips. Her small hands reach back and fist my hair as she turns away to offer her neck as though she needs my lips on the rest of her body. My lips take full advantage, starting at her wrist and I lick and nibble my way down, feasting on her until I hover above her nakedness. Around her inner thigh, my tongu
e circles and skates while I use my hands to spread her wide.

  Using small sweeps, I outline her sex with my fingers until I feel the moisture of her arousal on my tongue. I do what any starving man As if she were manna falling from the skies of Heaven, I do what any starved man would do; I devour her. I feast on her until I’ve sated my hunger and am confident that I made each and every orgasm better than the last.

  She screams my name wildly and carelessly and begs me to take her. She begs me to fuck her. I lift my head and glance at her, unsure of what I’ve heard. I’m tempted to reach up and place my hand on her forehead to check her temperature. Perhaps the last orgasm was too much and she’s battling delirium.

  “You want me to fuck you? Is that what you really want?”

  “Shane.” She blinks lazily, whispering with a raspy and sultry voice, “I do.” There is no hint of humor in her voice; she’s completely serious and the look of determination on her face matches her words.She demands with a deep, sultry voice.

  Something transpires between us. Something erotic. Something epic.

  In what feels like two seconds flat, I’ve shed my clothes and have Remy flipped over onto her knees. A hard slap strikes her beautiful, bare, sexy ass. She lets out a desperate yelp as I pull her hips up into the air before I plunge deep into her, making her scream out expletives that I’ve never heard her say before. Over and over, relentlessly and unapologetically, I thrust forward, asking her if this is what she wants while giving her every modicum of jealousy, every moment of doubt, and every measure of love that I have. I give everything to this woman.

  She owns me.

  Mind.

  Body.

  Soul.

  I collapse, hot and sweaty, onto her slender back. The line between my body and hers is no more. Offering my love and gratitude, I trail kisses on her shoulder until my breathing regulates back to normal. “I love you.”

  “I hope so. I hope that’s true.” She turns her face away from the cushion to look at me. Her cheeks are reddened, her hair matted.

 

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