Her name was on my lips as I began to climax but I bit down hard on my lower lip to stifle me calling out. I shuddered as I came into Chrissie's mouth and she pulled away from me, laughing as she swallowed. Still moving her hand up and down my length, she licked up every drop of cum with a smile and rubbed my wet tip around her lips, desperate to not leave any behind.
"You've never been that loud before," she said as I collapsed onto the bed.
"You've never sucked that hard before."
"I've been practicing."
I rolled over to face her and she pulled out her favorite purple dildo from beneath her pillow. Pushing it into her mouth, she showed me her moves before running the rubber tip down the center of her breasts. Holding my gaze, she traced it down her stomach before hovering it above her pussy.
"You wanna watch?"
I nodded, meekly.
She eased it inside her, thrusting her head back as she worked it in and out. I leaned down to kiss her and tasted the sickly sweet stickiness of her strawberry flavored lip gloss.
"Hmmm... that feels too good," she murmured with her eyes still closed. "Touch me."
Rolling on top of her, I cupped her breasts and felt them spill out over my hands before I sucked hungrily on her hard nipples.
"Fuck me," she commanded and I thrust myself inside her.
She raised her hips to meet mind and ground herself against me.
"Harder!" she cried. "I want you to make it hurt."
I fucked her as hard as my body would allow until the sweat dripped from my brow and she screamed louder and louder until her voice was ringing in my ears and drowning out the world around me.
"Fuck!"
"Harder, baby!"
I came for a second time, toppling onto her as I cried out and felt my legs give out beneath me. For a long while, we lay stuck together, the wetness and smell of sex clinging us together as we struggled to regain our bearings.
"It always gets better between us," she gasped as she rolled away to reach for her pack of cigarettes.
I wished she wouldn't smoke. It meant I wouldn't be able to kiss her for a while and the stench of nicotine always added a depressing layer of finality to our lovemaking.
"Yeah," I breathed. "It does always get better. That was the best."
Because I was still thinking of Etta.
As I lay staring up at the ceiling, I wondered where she was right now. Was she also being fucked senseless? If she was I doubted she was thinking about me. I saw the way she looked me up and down earlier. She was disgusted by me. Only stayed because she felt sorry for me.
"You've gone quiet," said Chrissie as she blew out a smoke ring.
We both watched it drift up before dissolving on the edge of the lampshade.
"I was just thinking," I replied.
"Oh?"
"About what we're doing. I mean, what we're about to do."
"And?"
"And... I'm just not sure it's right."
She sighed and rolled over to face me, breathing smoke out all over my body like she was trying to cleanse my demons.
"Right?" she repeated as she raised her bushy eyebrows. "Honey, right and wrong's in here," she tapped the side of her head. "Right or wrong is just an opinion and my opinion is that if something's right for me then I don't care if it's wrong."
I couldn't argue with that no matter how much I wanted to.
She stubbed out her cigarette and nestled into the crook my neck. Her hair, hardened from multiple layers of hairspray felt like scorched crabgrass digging into my armpit.
"So, you saw her."
"Yeah... I saw her."
Outside, a car drove by and I watched as its headlights traveled across the ceiling.
"Is it true?" asked Chrissie.
Rumors of her relationship with Lincoln Bosworth had run rampant through the media but, like all rich guys, he liked to keep his personal life a secret. Of course, the paparazzi had taken some distant blurry photos of the two of them but that was all the public were allowed to see.
Still, people speculated about who the lucky girl was. There was something so fantastical about a nurse being taken as a lover by a billionaire and people were desperate to know who the real-life Florence Nightingale was.
All I knew was that this Bosworth guy was rich as shit and was rumored to be living on top of the mountain in some sort of fortified lair. I also knew that only one road went up that way so if I waited there long enough I'd find out if all the gossip was true.
And I needed to know the truth as much as Chrissie needed her money. When I saw Etta come down in that Buick with her pale face almost ethereal in the morning sunlight I felt as though my heart was about to give out. I'd waited so long to glimpse her face again and as I drove behind her all the way into the city, I fumbled over the right words to say to her.
When I followed her into the coffee shop, my hands were shaking. She'd probably curse me out and tell me she'd never want to see me again. She'd no doubt tell me how much she hated me and how much better her life was without me in it.
I expected her to brandish her purse at me like a battleaxe and smack me around the face. I would have taken it too. After what I put her through it was the least I deserved. As I tapped her on the shoulder, I waited for to get mad, but she didn't. Instead, she threw me a look of sheer revulsion as she noticed my meager frame and tatty clothes and that hurt so much more.
"It's true," I told Chrissie. "She's with that billionaire Bosworth."
"Really?"
Her eyes lit up as though her insides were illuminated with pure malicious greed.
"So you spoke to her?"
"I did."
"And?"
What was I supposed to say? That seeing her again lit up my life? That her eyes shone like diamonds and her hair was like the finest gossamer? Was I supposed to tell her all about how I regretted every second of betraying her and that seeing her again opened up a wound inside me that I was terrified would never close again?
"She was a real bitch," I lied.
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah, she called me all sorts of names. I mean the language that came out of that woman. Just wow."
Chrissie's eyes shone brighter.
"What else?" she asked, scratching at the insides of her arms.
I noticed her scars were starting to look like chicken scratch.
"And this."
Hanging off the edge of the bed to reach my pants, I pulled out the two twenty dollar bills and handed them over. Never in my life had I seen someone so excited over forty dollars and I glanced away, nauseated.
"She just gaveyou this?"
"Yep."
"Woah... We could get hundreds. No. Thousands from that billionaire bastard and he'd never even notice."
She scratched her arms again and a slight scattering of blood began to raise itself to the surface of her skin.
This is the lowest point of my life, I thought. Things could not get any worse.
I hated the way Chrissie concocted her plan to take advantage of Etta but I hated myself more for going along with it. It's not like I wanted to but with my house foreclosed and the two of us cooped up in this tiny apartment, I didn't have two dimes to rub together and things were desperate. We all know that desperate men commit unthinkable sins.
"Yeah, I suppose he wouldn't notice but it doesn’t mean that she has any access to his money, or that she’d just hand it over to us."
"We’ll give her a real sob story she can’t say no to. Nurses love sob stories. When you seeing her again?" asked Chrissie as she folded the money and placed it beneath the alarm clock.
I knew Etta never wanted to see me again but if I had to, I could always bump into her again.
"Soon," I said and felt the guilt weigh heavy in my stomach.
“How soon?”
“Just soon,” I replied and rolled over, feeling a single tear escape and run down into the pillow.
Chapter Five
Etta
<
br /> I didn't know why I was there. Had no idea what exactly it was I was looking for but as though I was being lured to the place by a divining rod, I found myself back at my old house.
After leaving Craig behind, I'd driven around for hours until the sun set. Right now, I couldn't face the prospect of climbing back up that mountain. It wasn't that I didn't want to see Lincoln. I was desperate for him to hold me and tell me everything was going to be okay. But I knew nothing was going to be okay, not with that cop still chained to the wall.
Crying silent tears, I looked up at the blacked out windows of the house and saw there was nothing and nobody. A large foreclosure sign was hammered into the front garden and inside, I could just about make out the outlines on the walls of where the cupboards had been ripped out.
Why hadn't Craig mentioned this earlier?
Although it explained why he looked so bad and why he seemed so hungry.
"Fuck..."
I wasn't even sure why I was crying anymore. The tears were definitely not just being shed over Craig, the son of a bitch.
It was all too much. Seeing where Jet had died, knowing all the secrets of the Waters' House, knowing all of Lincoln's secrets while being tangled up in them myself. It was spinning me around.
I had no idea of what normality was anymore but as I thought about Lincoln and all he had given me, of the way he touched me and how his kisses felt, I knew that I wouldn't trade any of that for even one second of normalcy. I needed to get home to him but I was too scared to find out what he'd done when I returned.
My phone rang from inside my purse and I scrambled to answer it.
"Linx! Speak of the Devil. I was just thinking about you."
"You were?"
"I'm always thinking about you."
I cringed at myself and my girlish confession.
"I was thinking about you," said Lincoln. "I've been worried about you."
"Linx, you have so much to be worried about right now. Don't think about me."
He grew quiet. In the background, I could hear footsteps and on instinct, I knew they weren't his. The cop was walking around which meant he was okay, he was alive! It also meant that Lincoln had removed his restraints.
"Where are you?"
"Erm... Where are you?"
"I'm in the house waiting for you to come back," replied Lincoln with a frustrated sigh.
"I'm just on my way home. Won't be long."
I moved to hang up but he wasn't letting go.
"So, where are you?"
"Just... downtown.Thought I'd do some shopping."
"Shopping? You didn’t think we had more important things to worry about."
It was my turn to sigh and I thumped my head back against the chair as I looked up at the stars through the windscreen.
"Okay, I lied. I'm sorry. I just needed to get away. It was all stressing me out."
The footsteps continued in the background. There was the sound of a door opening and closing, the jangling of keys. It was then that I realized they were now outside.
"Where are you going?" I asked.
"Nowhere," he said.
We were now both lying.
"Hmmm..." I replied.
"You know you still haven't told me where you've been? Please don't tell me you're back at the Waters' House. I know how you love that place."
He forced out a nervous laugh.
"Don't worry. I'm not there. I'm just at a girlfriend's house."
"Girlfriend? It better not beNorma you talked about last time. All your friends seem to have murderous pasts."
"It's not Norma! It's just... a friend from the hospital."
My palms grew sweaty as I clutched the steering wheel. I always was the worst liar and in the moment, I didn't even know why I was doing it. It's not like I'd done anything wrong. I didn't go out of my way to see Craig, so why the dry mouth and racing heartbeat?
"So... I'll see you when I get back?" I asked.
"Sure," he said but in the background I was sure I heard a male voice, the bang of a car door, the sound of shoes crunching on the gravel driveway.
Whatever he was doing, I'm sure he had a reason to do it. His life wasn't ordinary and that meant his intentions often weren't either.
"I love you," I said and truly meant it.
"I love you so much, honey."
Besides all the chaos, I knew he was telling the truth. Amidst all the madness and danger I could be certain of that.
"See you soon, honey. I'll keep the bed warm for you."
"You do that."
He hung up and I realized the phone was wet with tears.
"Pull yourself together," I told myself and gripped the steering wheel.
Looking up at the old house, I remembered the last time I'd been here I'd dragged my stuffed suitcase up the drive as Craig cried in the hallway.
"Jerk," I thought out loud. "Total son of a bitch. Jerk. Asshole."
I felt ashamed for not thinking of a more eloquent insult but I didn't think he deserved one. As I pulled away from the house and sped out onto the highway, I cursed myself for giving him money. Even then, as he sniveled into his mocha, I knew he was using me. It wasn't even the money that was bothering me. It was the principle that he still thought he could get what he wanted.
"Asshole," I said again through gritted teeth. "I bet he's having a few beers on me tonight."
And what were the chances of him just stumbling across me like that in a random coffee shop I'd never been in before? The more I thought about it, the more suspicious it seemed.
He couldn't have followed me, could he?
I shook my head as I tried to rid myself of the paranoid thought.
There's no way. It was just a coincidence. It just couldn’t be.
But as I left the city behind and drove through the endless darkness of the surrounding forest, I felt a shiver creep down my spine like an invisible icicle. Something didn't feel right. He had to be up to something.
Chapter Six
Lincoln
"This place is going to be the death of me, you know that?"
Berger shot me an unimpressed look as he held his hand to his head as though he was intent on keeping his brains in place.
"Are you sure you don't want to go to the hospital?" I asked, leaning forward to inspect his scalp in the dim light of the car.
"I'm sure. You don't have to keep checking on me every two minutes. It's just a bump on the head. Your girlfriend would have to do a damn sight better in future if she wants to actually kill me."
The vision of her slamming the vase down on his head will be forever stamped in her memory. Not because of the violence, or because the vase was worth a small fortune, but because it was the very second I knew she had my back. She'd kill for me. I could trust her.
As I looked over Berger's slumped, exhausted body, I wondered what would have happened if she had killed him. I wondered how it all came to this.
"I'm just saying. It kinda feels unethical as a doctor to not have you taken in for assessment. You could have a bleed on the brain, swelling, concussion, a hemorrhage, all kindsa complications."
Again, he looked at me out the corner of his eye.
"I'm fine," he insisted. "Anyway, is this really the time to talk about ethics?"
He waved his hand out across the front of the car toward the Waters House.
"I fucking hate this place," he said. "Seem to spend most of my life here. Swear to God it's like it’s cast a spell on me and I can't get away."
"You read my mind, buddy. I'm starting to think the same thing."
"So why are we here?"
"I have a plan."
"A plan."
"Well more of an idea."
I reached into my pocket for my hip flask and took a sip of scotch and let it burn down my throat. Offering it to Berger, he hesitated for a moment before taking it.
"Not saying no to free booze," he said. "My mother didn't raise an idiot."
He gulped it down a
nd grimaced as it recoiled back his lips.
"Urgh... Stuff's like rocket fuel. Anyway, tell me about your idea."
"You can help me. Or rather, I can help you help me."
"Look just shoot it straight. I'm not in any frame of mind for riddles."
The house was shrouded in darkness with a thick layer of fog simmering over the parking lot. Upstairs, Phaedra's bedroom light was on. I imagined she was up there keeping tabs on everything and writing out meticulous notes in her books. Downstairs, another light flicked on as I imagined one of the girls wandering into the lounge, sleepless. It was almost midnight but the house never slept.
"Okay. I know things you don't and you need me. And you know things about this house that you've come across legitimately. I mean, you've been investigating the house, right? You rescued one of the children. I say we team up."
"Team up?"
He looked aghast.
"I'm not teaming up with a murderer!"
But a look came across his eyes as he considered the possibilities.
"Are you saying you want me to arrest people for you?" he asked, not quite grasping at what I meant.
"No. I'm saying with the help of the police you can point me in the right direction and with my help, we can take a whole generation of scum off the streets. We'll do it ourselves."
"Madness," he replied and closed his eyes. "Crazy. No. This isn't... You can't be serious."
"I'm more serious than you could imagine. I mean what are the chances of all of this stopping if judges are in on it, if yourvery own chief can't be trusted? I say the two of us take them out. I have the money to make sure we don't get caught. You have the expertise to find out everything we need to know."
"No!" he yelled and clapped his hands to his ears.
Jumping out the car into the rain, he began hurrying down the street, his figure shrinking as the darkness closed in around him.
"Berger! Get back in the fucking car!"
He ignored me and wrapped his arms around himself, shielding himself from the downpour.
"Berger! Get back here!"
I slammed the car into gear and caught up with him. He kept his eyes fixed straight ahead as though he didn't want to believe I was beside him.
Jewels and Panties (Book, Five): A Doctor's Touch Page 3