Jewels and Panties (Book, Fifteen): No Rest For The Wicked

by Brooke Kinsley

  "I'll get more ice," she said. "But first let's deal with these wires. Where's the fuse box?"

  With a look of bewilderment, I pointed my thumb back behind me to where the box lay. With a rather manly nod of acknowledgement, she ventured over and a second later, after she'd flicked a series of switches, the room was plunged into darkness.

  "Cynthia, you tiny moron, what have you done?"

  "Oh, calm down you massive imbecile," she retorted. "Don't tell me you're afraid of the dark."

  "I'm afraid of what you're going to do."

  I could hear her scuttling around in the dark like a cockroach and it terrified me. Could it be possible that she was the most frightening person I'd ever met but somehow the smallest? She was no bigger than a child but had the horrifying and uncanny ability to control everything. I got the impression she was going to be my apprentice whether I liked it or not.

  "Now what are you doing?" I called out to her in the dark.

  "Be quiet, kid."

  "Who are you calling kid?"

  There was more scuttling. The sound of snipping, quick breathing, fast footsteps, a door opening and closing. There was the click of the switches in the fusebox and then there was light. It hurt my eyes and I blinked away the burningsensation. When I regained my vision, I noticed she'd secured the wires and had untangled the spaghetti like a mass of cables that lay beneath my desk.

  "There," she said, dusting off her hands. "The place won't kill you now. Happy?"

  I had to admit that I was.

  "Delighted," I said. "Thank you."

  "You're very welcome," she said. "No matter what Gustav said about me I was pretty skilled with my hands. My father was a bit of a jack of all trades but he taught me how to wire a house when I was eight and hotwire a car when I was nine. I was fixing cars when I was twelve."

  "Nice," was all I could say, impressed. "And there's me thinking you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth like Schiele."

  "Pah!" she spat. "I was raised in Kansas to a family of degenerates who I loved dearly, bless their souls. I didn’t' always have it so easy."

  "Neither did I."

  We shared a smile of understanding. Are we bonding for real? I thought. Are we having some sort of moment?

  "Thank you for..." I nodded toward Etta.

  "She's still beautiful."

  "She'll be beautiful like she used to be soon now that I have this," I tapped the case of Tricepthial.

  "I can't wait to meet her," said Cynthia, her hands clasped in front of her as she regarded Etta like a matron checking in on her ward.

  "Bodies don't bother you?" I asked her.

  "Of course not," she said. "I've seen a fair few in my time."

  Her voice was clipped and she glanced away. Clearly, this wasn't something she wanted to elaborate on.

  "You can stay," I found myself saying before I could think it through properly. "Just... let me do my thing, okay?"

  "Okay," she nodded. "But first, we get more ice."

  Chapter Seven

  Berger

  It was dark outside but I didn't know what time it was. The only clock lay on the wall in the kitchen but I gathered it had stopped years ago. There was no way to know how long I'd been hiding in my room. When Cooper came knocking in the middle of the afternoon to check on me I'd pretended to be asleep and when he came again, I hit beneath the covers like a kid despite it being sweltering under there.

  I was shy all over again just like that time I was in the hot tub. There was this tremendous sense of shame and awkwardness in my gut but at the same time, I was excited. Excited like I was on the cusp of experiencing a great and inevitable pleasure.

  As the temperature gradually began to drop, I figured out it was must have been around midnight. There wasn't a sound outside and the sky was like velvet. The white moonlight kissed the sand, its silver presence shining across the desert. I felt safe inside my room with only a mattress on the floor, a single chair and a jug of water. But I was terrified because I knew once I left these four walls I was going to have to come to terms with what I wanted to do. I wanted to feel a man again.

  Cooper was in his own room on the other side of the wall. I couldn't figure out what the noise was in there. It was like he was rearranging the furniture or something but maybe he was just sleepless and horny like me and was desperate to stop himself coming in here just like I was eager to stop myself going in there.

  The pitcher of water now lay almost empty and my bladder was on the brink of bursting. I'd managed to hold it in for a few hours then, when it started to hurt, I'd done all the usual moves; crossed my legs, lay on my stomach, hunched myself over into a ball but even that became excruciating and I knew I'd have to head outside to piss sooner or later. I even thought about pissing out the window but the ledge was too high and the chair didn't look strong enough to hold me.

  For a long while, taking deep breaths to numb the pain in my bladder, I lay on the dusty mattress just waiting for the sound of Cooper to die down so I could go outside. At last, when I thought he'd never go to sleep, there was the creak of the bedsprings and a few minutes later, I could hear the gentle rumble of him snoring.

  "Thank fuck."

  I leapt up and carefully opened the door making sure not to tread on any creaky floorboards as I tiptoed down the hall. When I reached the kitchen, I could hear the squeak of his bedsprings again but he was just rolling over, resuming his snoring as he continued to sleep.

  Once outside, I practically ripped my boxers to shreds in a bid to free my penis and at last, when I began to urinate, a flood of relief washed over me. I'd never felt a thing like it.

  "Aaah!"

  I couldn't even stop myself from breathing out with satisfaction. Then, when there was a puddle in the sand and the little piss filled pouch of my stomach had deflated, I zipped myself up and headed back inside.

  "So you're alive, then," came a voice from the darkness.

  I froze.

  I couldn't see him but I knew he was there because I could hear his heavy breathing. I could smell him too.

  "I'm alive," I said, not sure what else to say.

  "You were in that room a long time," said Cooper. "Thought you were never coming out."

  "Just so tired," I said.

  It was a feeble excuse.

  "I've been thinking," he said as he stepped out of the shadows and into the moonlight.

  He leaned against the counter and reached for an apple, biting into it hungrily as the juice erupted from the red skin.

  "About what you said earlier," he mumbled with a full mouth. "Actually, I can't stop thinking about it."

  He swallowed hard, wiped the juice from his mouth with the back of his hand and set the apple down.

  "Do you know how long it's been since I've been able to talk to a man about..."

  I couldn't hold it any longer. It was going to happen. It had to. No matter how much I wanted to control myself. The energy between us was growing, heating up, becoming overpowering. I took a step toward him and he took one too. Hesitating for a second, I halted halfway toward him and he held his breath. What are you doing? I asked myself. Do you really want to do this?

  But before I could question myself anymore, he was throwing himself at me and his apple scented lips were pressed up against mine and he was groaning, groaning so loudly as he wrapped his wiry arms around my waist. I so badly didn't want to enjoy it but I enjoyed it more than I could even describe and I was grabbing at him too, pulling his body to mine until we were both hard and grinding against each other.

  His body felt hard and almost wrong. I wasn't used to holding a man but I hadn't realized until now how much I'd wanted to. We wrestled each other until we were stumbling into his bedroom and tumbling down onto his broken bed with the springs crying out as they struggled with the weight of us. His fingers were fast as he pulled down my zipper and I watched in awe as his calloused hands took control of my cock.

  This shouldn't feel so good but it d
oes, I thought as I closed my eyes. Then the sensation of his hardened fingers gave way to something soft and moist and so completely perfect and exquisite that I felt my heart beat so fast I was sure I would faint. When I looked down, I saw his lips around my length, could feel his tongue pressed up against the tip and his hands around my balls. He sucked as though I was giving him life. He sucked as though he'd been waiting for my cock his entire life. He sucked like he loved me.

  I grabbed his head and pressed it down further. He coughed and gagged a little but his eyes were twinkling and when I let go, he raised his face and I saw he was laughing.

  "You taste sweet," he said, still coughing.

  I didn't want him to talk. I wanted him to suck. Grabbing his hair, I pressed his head back down until all my length was inside his mouth and down his throat and he was groaning louder than I was as I fucked his face.

  His hand was beneath him, working up down his own cock as he writhed against the bed. We were both loud, both desperate, both so close to coming we were almost blind. And when he tugged on my balls, raising one finger, that one finger that would bring it to an end, I thought I saw heaven. I ejaculated as he inserted it, screaming with my eyes rolling back in my head as I ripped at his hair. There was nothing but a divine white light in my eyes, nothing but this rush of feelings down below. I'd even stopped breathing. For a second, I was sure I'd even stopped living.

  When the white light faded and I was once again seeing the brown wood of the homemade furniture, the broken lamp overhead and the splintered floorboards, I touched my cheek and felt tears. Reaching out my tongue, I tasted the saltiness that was running down my face.

  Then I felt the stickiness on the sheets. Spit and cum covered us both. Cooper was unmoving, lying face down with his hand still on my balls.

  "Hey."

  I nudged him and he didn't move.

  "Hey, Coup?"

  He still didn't move. I couldn't even hear him breathing.

  "Jesus Christ, Cooper!"

  Slowly, he lifted his head and licked his lips before chuckling to himself.

  "Fuck, Coup. I thought I'd killed you."

  "Thought you'd choked me to death with your cock? What a way to die. I'd reach the pearly gates smiling if I went like that."

  Exhaling hard, I flung myself back against the bed and wiped the tears from my face. I didn't know it was possible to even feel something like that. When I looked back down, I saw he was in a deep sleep, his hands still between my legs but his fingers now thankfully loose. He began to snore as I burrowed down beside him and he grunted as I tried to fight for the covers. It was too damn hot anyway so I lay beside him wearing just my t-shirt.

  I was exhausted and beyond satisfied but I couldn't sleep because I was too happy, too excited now that I had been opened up to this new experience. It struck me that I had wasted so many years only experiencing women and what a true waste of time that was when there were men to touch, kiss, feel, and fuck too.

  The sun came up and I still couldn't sleep. There was a bird chirping at the window and it annoyed me. It wouldn't stop. Soon it stopped chirping and began pecking away at the side of the wall. Annoyed, I got up to see what it was doing. Maybe it had found a tasty mouse in the gutter or something. Opening the window, I reached my head out and looked up. It was up near the roof ripping off pieces of wood like a wily little bastard.

  "Shoo!"

  I waved my arm at it but it didn't care. Banging my hand against the wall, I tried to frighten it but it didn't work either. It continued to rip pieces of wood off until it was eventually inside the roof.

  "Little shit."

  Sitting back in bed, I could see the sweat begin to glisten on Cooper's back as the heat rose. I didn't think there would ever come a time when a person could cope with the heat down here. Only lizards could enjoy it.

  Lying beside him, I closed my eyes but finally, when I thought sleep was going to come to me, I heard that fucking bird again. This time it was right above the ceiling, pecking away at more wood. No matter how much I tried to ignore it and sleep, the louder it seemed to get until I was sure I was going to kill that little bastard and eat him for breakfast.

  "Right, I'm coming to get you, you little shit."

  I pulled on my boxers and went out into the hall, looking up at the ceiling until I noticed the entrance to the attic.

  "Fucker, you're dead."

  I pulled the rope for the latch and it came down with a clatter. Cooper stirred in his sleep but somehow didn't wake. That man could probably sleep through an apocalypse. Jumping up, I managed to latch my fingertips onto the edge of the opening and hoist myself up into the attic.

  “Right, where are you?”

  The bird was at the far corner of the room pecking away quite happily and I was getting hungry just watching him. I approached slowly but just one creak of a floorboard startled him and he flew away out the gap he’d just made. I peered out through it and saw him disappear far away into the distance.

  “Fucker.”

  It was time to get back to bed even though I doubted I could sleep in this heat now. I was just about to walk away, stooped down low with the slanted ceiling almost pressing up against my back when I tripped over a cardboard box.

  The first thing that struck me was that the logo on the side was from an ice cream company that went bust in the fifties. The next thing I noticed was the stacks of newspapers inside. I wasn’t a cop for no reason. I had the urge to investigate.

  Kneeling down, I picked out the first paper and saw a police sketch artist drawing of a peculiar looking man with familiar eyes. There was a headline just below him:

  WANTED

  D.B. COOPER

  $15 000 REWARD

  Huge Promotion for a Limited Times!

  Clicking this Boxset will lead you directly to the Offer

  About The Author

  Brooke Kinsley has been in love with words since the day she took her first breath. She loves writing steamy, sexy stories with very strong guys who fall deeply in love with the women they flirt. Coffee and wine inspired her stories and she thinks every person should partake in! Brooke lives in Quebec, Canada with her boyfriend. When she's not crafting stories, she's probably playing with her two cats.

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