by T. R. Cupak
“Do you like what you see, Precious?” Hunter’s question is huffed between each labored breath as the sound of his fist slapping against the water fills the space of quiet conversation.
Nodding my response like a lunatic mute person, my eyes flicker from his deep blue eyes back down to his hand stroking his cock like a bull rider strokes his bull rope before a ride, with vigorous purpose. I don’t know how much longer I can hold out without touching myself. The tight pull in my stomach has me writhing in place, silently reminiscing exactly how this man feels plunged deep inside my wet pussy.
“I’m going to come, Jordan,” he manages to grunt out.
Quickly taking actions into my own hands, I pull my legs free from the fleshy restraints of Hunter’s legs and maneuver my body to take his cock into my mouth.
“What are you doing?” he asks, ceasing his hand movement while his cautious eyes watch me.
“Finishing you off,” I respond with a sly smile before replacing his hand with mine, wrapping my fingers around his dick, and swallowing him as far down as the water permits. Hunter doesn’t argue or try to fight me off; he simply raises his hips, granting me full access to his steel rod. Without further hesitation, I work his cock with my mouth. Every grunt, and every “oh fuck” Hunter vocalizes, is music to my ears.
“Jordan,” he says warily.
My muffled command to come was all Hunter needed to hear before his growled release fills the air at the same time as his cum shoots to the back of my mouth and the thick, salty liquid descends down my throat. I swallow it all; every last drop, leaving nothing to clean up.
“Holy fuck,” he breathes out heavily before grabbing my face and kissing me, tongue in my mouth and all. Most men would never do that after a woman swallowed their cum, but Hunter doesn’t seem to care.
That simply erotic kiss heats up my insides even more than they already were, but my own desire for release gets waylaid when Monte’s voice bellows from the bedroom, telling his boss that he’s needed, and it’s urgent. Hunter asked if it can wait, but Monte reiterated that it was urgent, so no, it couldn’t wait.
“Go,” I tell him.
“Will you be okay, alone?”
Smiling, I nod my understanding. Hunter stands and the residual water cascades down his muscular legs; his semi-hard man-meat dangles in front of my face, taunting me. If he wasn’t in a hurry I would have insisted he fuck me raw, because lord knows I’d take whatever this insane but kindhearted man would dish out.
Now that Hunter’s left me alone, I take my time actually bathing instead of only soaking in the tub. After I’ve gone through all the basics, I carefully stand, making sure I have full control of my body. I grab the handheld shower head, thoroughly rinsing off. The water pressure is to die for, and as I rinsed between my legs the streams of water hit my clit just right, nearly making my knees buckle. I’m alone, so why the hell not?
Sitting on the side of the tub, I spread my legs and angle the showerhead so it hits my clit perfectly. I change the spray function to the pulsating setting, which nearly had me coming instantly. Gripping the side of the tub with one hand and holding the pleasuring water source with the other, I work it in a circular motion, never skipping a beat.
“Oh, lord. This-feels-so-good,” I whisper out into the empty room.
A few minutes goes by and my body coils tighter; my death grip on the tub and showerhead handle is stronger while the images of Hunter masturbating play through my mind, sending me spiraling into my own earth shattering orgasm. His name escapes my lips as I ride out my release, and even though I had to pleasure myself, it was definitely worth the wet and wild experience.
“That was sexy as fuck,” his husky voice says from behind me, scaring me to death. I slip from where I am sitting, falling backwards, but Hunter has quick reflexes and was there to catch me before I hit the floor. Sadly, it wasn’t before I ripped the showerhead from the faucet. “Are you okay?” Hunter asks, worried I’ve hurt myself.
“I’m fine,” I snap back, slightly embarrassed, since he must have heard his name. “Your showerhead on the other hand…” And I hold up the magic wand while water drips from the dangling hose.
“I’ll have to get that replaced quickly,” he says taking the handle from me while handing me a towel. “I’ll let you be.”
“You couldn’t have ‘let me be’ for a few more minutes?”
“If I knew you were going to murder my faucet, I would have,” he answers teasingly before smacking me on the bare ass and leaving the bathroom.
“Jerk.”
Hunter
Immediately following Jordan’s hot as fuck blow job, I reluctantly had to leave her in the tub. I was being summoned for a video conference call regarding the family winery in Texas. There is a nearby fire threatening the vineyard, and my mother, along with half of the staff are worried that the fire would shift its direction, and destroy Knight Family Vineyards. I explained that I couldn’t leave tonight, but to keep me updated on the fire and I would be back tomorrow night, unless things got worse in Texas.
It’s selfish of me to not leave and head home, but I’m not ready to take Jordan to Texas, and I’m sure as hell not ready to leave her here alone either. I’ve just unloaded years’ worth of omissions onto her; the big one being my true identity. And if that wasn’t enough, I had to confess the shady shit I recently have done to get her to my California home, and what I did once she was here. I’m not proud of how it all went down, but everything is out in the open now. There’s nothing else I’m hiding, so I will give her this time to adjust and come to terms with my crazy. I won’t press her on too much more; well, that is, except for trying to persuade her into executing our revenge scheme. Unfortunately, the first part of our plan arrives in two months, meaning time is not on our side, especially since we’ve lost a week while Jordan was detoxing. At least now she will have a clear mind which I hope brings out the strong woman that’s been hiding all these years.
But for now, after watching her get off with my showerhead, I don’t want to wait for the doctor to tell me she’s healthy enough to have sex, because all I want is my cock to be sheathed by the velvety walls of her sinful pussy. I want to feel her tighten around my dick as she nears her orgasm. I want her to scream my name because of me, not my fucking showerhead.
Jordan is mine, and I will claim her mind, body, and soul.
Chapter Thirteen
Jordan
It’s been quiet the last two days around the house. The day after waking from my medically induced coma, Hunter had to fly home to Texas and my new doctor felt that it would be best if I stayed here where he can check on me throughout the day. He wants to be sure my body is responding to my new medications without the harsh symptoms that could return a recovering addict back into user.
With everything that has happened in such a short period of time, I do have to admit that having a clear head has been pleasant. I’m not as neurotic as before even though my nightmares still haunt me. They have been getting worse, but that could be because I’ve been thinking heavily about Hunter’s revenge plans. I never wanted to be in the presence of those horrible men ever again, but what Hunter proposed makes me think I can do it. He makes me feel strong even when I’m weak. Hunter promised that if it became too much for me to handle, that he and Monte would finish the jobs. So, why not give these fuckers a taste of their own medicine? What’s that saying; eye for an eye?
Since Hunter has been gone I have become a couch potato. He asked that I watch a show called Dexter that is saved in his Netflix profile. I’ve been binge watching it with Monte for nearly two days straight. It’s been nice not having to really do anything accept focus on being healthy.
Monte and I are half way through one of the Dexter episodes when the doorbell rings out. He pauses the show before heading over to the door.
“It’s probably the doctor,” he states. I just nod before getting up to make us some popcorn and grabbing us some refreshments. I’ve been in
the kitchen for a couple of minutes before Monte appears with a look of concern on his face.
“What is it?” I ask. “Is Hunter okay?”
“I’m sure Hunter is fine. Miss Smith, I don’t know what to do here. Hunter entrusted me to keep you calm, happy, and most importantly safe. He’s not answering his phone and there’s someone here to see you.” The look on Monte’s face screams that he is truly conflicted, and now I’m worried. Who would be here to see me? I have no family or friends. Oh wait; the doctor took some blood from me to run panels to make sure I don’t have any pressing issues. Maybe the doctor is here to deliver bad news, told Monte first, and now he doesn’t know what to do. I’m worrying myself with no real reason to. Monte will spit it out eventually; he’s not one to beat around the bush.
“Well, who is it? Is it the doctor?”
“No, Miss Smith.”
“Monte, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?” My body begins to tremble with fear. I want to run to Hunter’s room and lock myself away.
“I’m right here. Nothing bad is going to happen, but I think you need to speak with this person,” Monte explains.
Grabbing his hand for moral support, together, we round the corner that separates the kitchen from the foyer. The gentleman that comes into sight is no one that I recognize, so now I’m even more confused. He’s wearing a cheap suit and holds the handle of an old, battered leather briefcase. When he’s sees me, his eyes brighten and a warm, non-threatening smile forms.
“Miss Fillmore, I presume?” the stranger says extending his hand to shake mine, but I don’t offer it.
The name Fillmore rings through my ears, halting my movement towards him. My heart is beating double time and it’s getting harder for me to breathe. There’s not enough oxygen in this large house. The voices are muffled. I can’t make out what either man is saying. I feel something wet in my free hand and assumed it was sweat until I glanced down to see blood dripping. My hand was balled so tightly into a fist that my nails dug into the palm, causing my hand to bleed. Glancing up at Monte, I see his lips moving but the words don’t make sense. I then look over at the stranger who said my last name, the one I had before changing it years ago. He looks frightened. Through blurred vision I see another person enter the house. There’s shouting; it goes on for a while, but I can’t comprehend what’s happening.
My head begins to fog and that’s when I’m suddenly swept up off of my feet, immediately recognizing the arms that hold me close. His scent is unmistakable, but it’s his body and how mine reacts to it whenever he’s near that lets me know I will be okay; that I’m safe; and then the world goes dark.
Hunter
After Jordan fainted, I put her to bed and asked Monte to have the investigator wait in the living room and meet me in my office.
“What the fuck were you thinking, Monte?” are the first words out of my mouth when I join Monte in the office. I’m furious at my right-hand man for even putting Jordan in the position she was in. I know he would never let anything happen to her, but it doesn’t excuse what was unfolding before I arrived home.
“Boss, she was safe. I wasn’t going to let anything happen to her, but I thought she had the right to know that her mother died two years ago, and, well that she has a fuck-ton of money sitting there waiting for her,” he defends. Deep down, I get that he thought he was doing the right thing, but if that private investigator found her, then that could mean her stepfather could too.
“Did you think to ask who sent him?”
“You’re mocking my abilities and you’re out of line, Hunter. I have been by your side since your father died. Hell, I was by your side long before that, and I don’t plan to go anywhere else. My job is to protect you and to protect Jordan. So yes, of course I asked.”
He’s pissed. He has every right to be. Monte is a good man and when he says he did something, I know damn well he did. I’m just a little freaked out about what I came home to. The situation could have gone completely sideways, which would have ended in me killing my confidante and some stranger. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep Jordan safe.
Monte and I leave my office and go back out to the living room and sit down with the private investigator. He had no problems dishing out all of the information about Jordan’s family. He’s being paid regardless, especially now that he’s found her. Monte and I got sloppy with our intel on Armen. We let a lot of details fall through cracks; very pertinent details that could jeopardize everything most importantly, hurt Jordan.
The private investigator explained he was hired by her biological father’s lawyers. They, being the attorneys, had always been in control of Merrick’s money, but then Jordan magically disappeared. No one knew what happened to her or where she went, and by changing her name, she made it extremely difficult to be found. The investigator then went on to tell us that Armen left Jordan’s mother when she got sick. There was speculation that he may have been poisoning her, but there was no motive for him to kill her since Vivian didn’t have control of her late husband’s money. He left her just enough to live off of, but once Jordan turned twenty-one, her father’s entire estate was to be granted to Jordan. Who knows what would have happened if things were different; if Armen, my father, and those other fucks never raped Jordan and she stuck around. Would Armen and Vivian have plotted to kill her for the money? Thankfully we will never have to find out.
Monte and I are a little thrown by the information given about Armen. We thought he would never leave Vivian, well because he thought she was beyond wealthy, so we haven’t checked on his whereabouts in a long time. We’ve assumed he’s been living in that house with her this entire time. We were wrong.
“Excuse me, but do you happen to know where Armen Montgomery now resides?” I ask as casually as I can. If he has the answer, then I don’t have to hire my own private investigator to find that vile waste of a human.
“He has a home here in California. I believe Atherton. The lawyers have kept tabs on him. They were worried he would have tried to find Miss Fillmore… I mean Miss Smith, and try to get his hands on her money. The young woman is quite wealthy now, and since he was married to her mother he might have some twisted fantasy that he’s owed money, being as the lawyers cut Vivian off when Miss Smith left home. I don’t think Lezleigh-,”
“Jordan,” I butt in, saying her name to remind him.
“Okay. I don’t think Jordan ever knew the details of the trust. It stated that Vivian would receive a monthly allowance as long as Jordan was in her care. All financial support ended and Armen had to pick up the slack. The man may have a lot of money, but it isn’t ‘fuck you’ money, like Miss Smith will soon have,” the investigator informs us.
“Well, Jordan doesn’t need the money. She has me to take care of her and everything she may ever need,” I clarify for my own bruised ego. Merrick Fillmore wasn’t just a rich man. He was obscenely wealthy, and that wealth now belongs to Jordan. Knowing Jordan could buy everything I own, times five or maybe more, has me feeling a bit insecure, which is completely unwarranted.
Jordan never once showed interest in money. In the beginning of our arrangement she didn’t even want the designer gifts I sent her. Money won’t change her, I know that, but it doesn’t stop the feelings of inadequacy that are currently filtering through my mind.
“That’s all well and good, but Mr. Knight, the money is hers, whether you like it or not.”
There’s no sense in arguing with this man. He came here to deliver paperwork and contact information for Merrick’s lawyers, and he’s done that. The man can leave our home now.
“I’ll be sure to pass the information on to Jordan,” I say while standing, hoping he gets the hint that he has now overstayed his welcome.
“Hunter,” her hushed voice says from behind me. “I have a couple of questions for this man.” Jordan walks into the living room like a scared kitten, but once she reaches my side, she stands taller, straightening her spine, and keeps her curious eyes on the
investigator.
Having a clear-headed Jordan is going to take some getting used to. She may have occasional meltdowns like earlier, but that’s to be expected. None of us expected a stranger to show up at the door and ask for her by her birth name. That would have unhinged anyone.
“Miss Smith, please, come join us. I’m more than happy to answer any of your questions,” the man gestures for her to take a seat across from him.
“How did you find me?” Her first question was direct and to the point.
“It wasn’t easy. Once you turned eighteen your father’s lawyers wanted to meet with you. They were given strict instructions that Vivian was never to know about the meeting. Your dad wanted to be sure you were safe and well taken care of for the rest of your life,” he explains to Jordan without really giving her the answer to her question.
“That’s all fine and dandy, but you didn’t answer my question. How did you find me?” That’s my girl. I won’t be the only one she challenges.
“Someone with my background and connections can find just about anyone. All you did was change your name, so in certain databases your new name is still connected to your birth name. Once I realized that’s what you did, it was easy.”
“But you said you were looking for me since I turned eighteen. Why are you approaching me now? I’m twenty-five, not eighteen.”
Jordan seems to have this handled. Monte and I are merely here for support, nothing more.
“I said the lawyers wanted to meet with you when you turned eighteen. I never said I had been looking for you. You weren’t going to get your trust until you were twenty-one, so they held off on finding you. And to answer your next question, they didn’t have the right PI’s looking the first two times. I was brought on about three months ago. They were getting desperate.”