Dark Surge

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Dark Surge Page 8

by Gina Ranalli


  Gillian placed both her hands on his shoulders and shoved him backwards into the desk. Her face was flushed, her eyes glassy, her teeth gritted in a feral snarl.

  Thinking she was angrier about him talking to Tess than he’d originally thought, Josh raised his hands in a defensive posture, preparing to ward off blows. “Gillian, what’s wrong?”

  Without replying, she stepped forward, pressing her body against his and raised herself up on her tiptoes, kissing him hard on the mouth. Her tongue forced its way past his teeth with such ferocity that Josh had a moment when he thought she was trying to choke him with it. Then he was kissing her back with equal force, his hands automatically moving up to squeeze her breasts and discovering that she was without a bra, her nipples rock-hard and eager to be pinched.

  He kissed her deeply, with sloppy hunger, until he needed to come up for air and twist his face away. Gasping, he said, “Jesus, baby. Let’s get out of here.

  She ignored him, biting at his neck and reaching down to grab his dick through his slacks. The discovery of his granite hard-on eased a groan from her throat and she gripped the penis in her fist, pumping it through the fabric.

  “Whoa, baby,” he panted. “Hold that thought for a few. We can’t do it here.” But his body was telling her the opposite of his words, hips thrusting forward into her hand. His breath hissed out from between his teeth as he squeezed his eyes shut. “Let me lock the door.”

  Still, Gillian refused to acknowledge that he had spoken, reaching for the clasp that held his pants closed and yanking it until it gave. Sinking to her knees before him, she jerked the zipper down and whined at the sight of his penis popping out from beneath the band of his boxers.

  A moment later and he was in her mouth, his hands in her lush blonde hair, looking down at her bobbing head through hooded eyes. He moaned loudly as she took him deeper, took him all in, sucking as though her life depended on it and he was already so fucking close, just one more pump, one more pull, and he was shoving himself down her throat, oblivious to the gagging sounds she was making, his hands on either side of her head, pushing and pulling, every other part of his body tightening with tension, his cock swelling to what felt like twice its normal size and then he erupted hard, jerking her forward until her nose was buried in his pubic hair and holding her there, holding her…holding…

  When his cock gave its final twitch, he opened his eyes to see the drop ceiling a few feet above him. He didn’t remember throwing back his head, hoping he hadn’t been too loud and it was only then that he became aware of Gillian still kneeling before him, his wilting dick still shoved rudely down her throat.

  “Oh, shit,” he mumbled, gently pushing her away. His dick slid out of her mouth like a dying snake. “I’m sorry, baby. Are you alright? I didn’t mean to…” He stroked her hair, studying her face with concern, certain that she was about to blow up at him, call him disrespectful and selfish, maybe even slap him.

  But Gillian wasn’t paying any attention to him. She remained crouched down, staring at his dick for only a moment before taking it in both her hands, touching it tentatively, the way one would touch a wounded animal.

  “Gillian?”

  She drew his dick close to her face and Josh thought she meant to kiss the head but instead, she spat on it. He jumped in surprise, opening his mouth to speak and shut it again as she began working the saliva around with her tongue. Working it into the tender skin and paying particular attention to his piss slit.

  Josh was not altogether disgusted; in fact, he suspected that she was merely trying to get him up again. “No, no, no,” he said, moving his hands to her shoulders. “Next one will have to wait, baby. We’re lucky no one walked in on us.”

  Gillian appeared not to have heard him, coating the head of his dick with more slimy spit and Josh, somewhat regretfully, actually had to pull himself out of her grasp. He felt like an asshole. First, for acting like a fucking Neanderthal when she was going down on him and now, for refusing her, even though it was clearly more his loss than hers.

  As he tucked himself back into his pants, he said, “C’mon. Get up, babe. Let’s get out of here.”

  Rising to her feet, Gillian wiped the back of her hand across her mouth. She didn’t speak and Josh realized that she hadn’t spoken even a single word since she’d barged through the door and pounced on him. He took a step forward, tried to embrace her, assuming her silence was due to his insensitivity. “I’m sorry,” he said for the second time when she moved away from him. “I don’t know what came over me. Did I hurt you?”

  He was more than a little surprised when she burst out laughing. Surprised, but visibly relieved. He laughed too. “Guess I do know what came over me, now that I think about it.”

  Gillian continued to laugh, as if there had never been a funnier joke, and Josh laughed with her, though a feeling of unease was beginning to worm its way into his belly. He wondered if she was laughing at him, her voice rising in pitch until it sounded almost insane, tears streaming down her cheeks from eyes that had taken on a bright, nearly feral sheen.

  Josh stopped laughing abruptly, worry creasing his brow. He tried to keep his tone light when he said, “It’s not that funny, is it?”

  Her laughter stopped as suddenly as his had and she waved a hand at the air, perhaps trying to swat at a gnat that only she could see. Tilting her head, gaze fixed on a spot over Josh’s head, she said, “I have to go now.”

  “What?” Josh reached for her, too late. Gillian spun around and was out of the office before he could do anything about it. He started to go after her, but hesitated in the doorway as he saw the expressions of a couple co-workers standing nearby in the hallway.

  They heard. I just got the best blowjob of my life and they heard it.

  Helplessly, Josh watched Gillian’s retreating back until she’d rounded a corner, heading for the elevator, and was gone.

  He gave his peers a sheepish smile and closed the door. Standing still for a moment, unsure of what to do next, he finally sighed and rubbed his forehead, wondering what in the hell had gotten into his girlfriend. Her behavior had been pretty extreme, even for her. And, to make matters worse, he didn’t feel like he could take off the rest of the day as he’d planned, now that he suspected his co-workers of eavesdropping on his blowjob. If he were to leave now, it would be blatantly obvious why.

  Reluctantly, he sat down behind his desk again, figuring he’d call Gillian in a little while, just to make sure everything was okay.

  In the meantime, he had plenty of work to keep his mind off his dick and whether or not he’d be able to get her to ever suck him like that again.

  CHAPTER 16

  Speck hadn’t slept a wink all night.

  Tossing and turning on the hard pew, her eyes inadvertently drawn to the huge, desecrated movie screen, she couldn’t stop thinking about the incident with the Ouija board. It had to have been a trick, right? Mick having a little joke on her. Haha. Very funny.

  As much as Speck tried to tell herself that that had been the case, she kept remembering the expression on Mick’s face, which was beyond awed, as it had been when she and Kathy had been chatting with the enigmatic Elizabeth. And Kathy’s reaction couldn’t have been anything but genuine. The girl had practically been in tears when she ran from the empty. And she’d apparently located Doc too, because neither of them had returned that night.

  Mick’s reaction hadn’t been as dramatic as Kathy’s, but Speck knew that was only proof of their different personalities. Had Kathy been around on the morning when they’d all woken up to a wrecking ball smashing through the walls of their “hotel,” Speck was certain that Kathy would have been screaming and crying then too, while Mick had done neither. Mick was calm and cool, regardless of circumstances.

  Speck aspired to be more like her.

  Drown in black.

  Was that what the Ouija had been trying to say? That Speck was destined to drown in black water?

  She curled into the fetal
position and thought about that for a while. In the pew next to hers, Gizmo snored loudly, completely at peace with his lot in life. Speck wondered what he would have done if the Ouija board had spelled out his real name and said he was going to drown.

  He would have laughed it off. And that’s what you should do too. I mean, come on. Drowning? I’m never even near water, for Christ’s sake!

  But maybe that was the point. Speck wasn’t ever near water because she didn’t know how to swim and intentionally stayed away from anything deeper than a puddle for that very reason. She was terrified of water. Terrified of drowning.

  She shifted position again; the hardwood of the pew was definitely not doing much in the way of making her hips and back happy. Sometimes she missed having a regular bed, with regular blankets and pillows. Fuck, she missed those things all time, maybe more than getting three square meals a day. A person could only function for so long without a good night’s rest. And Speck knew that this night’s rest was over before it had even begun. Dawn was seeping in through the cracks of the boarded up windows, weak gray light that did little to illuminate the empty, but still managed to be somehow comforting. Dim, gray light was better than no light at all.

  Speck lay there for another five minutes before giving up on sleep altogether. Five minutes after that, she was outside, walking through a misty rain with no particular destination in mind.

  The digital clock outside the bank said it was 5:44 AM and 52 degrees. Speck buttoned her denim jacket against the chill and kept walking. The city was mostly a ghost town this early in the morning and she liked the abandoned feeling of it. The quiet.

  Patting the breast pocket of her jacket, feeling for her smokes, she was distressed to remember she’d smoked the last of them last night when she’d been so freaked out but trying to act casual. She didn’t think anyone had really noticed, except for Mick who kept sneaking glances at her and giving her sympathetic looks.

  Time to make some money, I guess.

  She took the next right, feeling like she was in a dream. She was in that place between asleep and awake, where it feels like your head is no longer attached to your body. In addition to cigarettes, she needed coffee, and desperately. She didn’t want to go through the day feeling like a zombie.

  Arriving at the bus station twenty minutes later, hair damp and ratty as ever, she picked a spot by the entrance and put on her best puppy-dog face. Even at this early hour, travelers trickled into the station; yawning, bleary-eyed suits mostly, the women usually wearing sneakers with no-color skirts.

  “Spare some change?” she asked the passersby, always trying to make eye contact with them, even when they refused to do so in return.

  The bus station was one of the best places for stemming, since people would automatically assume she was just some teenage kid trying to get home after a rough night of partying. She’d learned that people were more likely to drop coins into her palm if they knew there wasn’t a package store anywhere within a three block radius, although at this early hour, Speck knew it wouldn’t matter if she were standing just outside the door of a packie. They wouldn’t be opening for several hours still, but the suits wouldn’t see it that way.

  Now, though, Speck had passed the point of caring what strangers thought of her quite a while ago. She just wanted smokes and a cup of coffee and all would be right with the world again. She’d forget about that fucking weird Ouija board and get on with her life. Hopefully, she’d never have to see that thing again and she certainly would never participate in playing with it again, no matter how much Mick begged. No fucking way, no fucking how.

  A young guy, not much older that Speck was, was the first to drop money into her hand that day. She’d been stemming for less than ten minutes. She smiled at him and said, “Thanks. Appreciate it.”

  He didn’t quite return the smile but at least he made an effort to do so before disappearing into the station.

  Speck pocketed the change, having a good feeling about what her take would be that morning. Maybe she’d even get enough to buy one of those breakfast sandwiches from Mickey D’s. That would be good, she thought. Real good.

  As it turned out though, once she had enough for coffee and smokes, she just didn’t feel like hanging around anymore. She’d gotten pretty lucky when a middle-aged man had actually stopped to talk to her, asking how she’d managed to get stranded in the city in the first place. Speck had thought fast, saying she’d been out with her boyfriend who had ended up getting shitfaced and leaving her behind, because she’d refused to get into a car with him and she didn’t have her driver’s license. So, there she was, stuck in the city all night long, without any money because her purse had been in her boyfriend’s car.

  Speck wasn’t sure if the middle-aged guy bought the story of not, but if he thought she was lying, he’d still been a pretty good sport about it. Refusing to just hand over money to her, he’d instead walked her into the station, asked her where she lived and bought her a ticket for that destination.

  Not exactly what she’d had in mind, but Speck was still amazed at the guy’s generosity and thanked him profusely, laying on the relief and gratitude pretty thick.

  The stranger patted her shoulder and said, “You can repay me by dumping that loser who left you here. You could have been raped or murdered! You don’t want to be with a guy like that, do you?”

  Shaking her head solemnly, Speck promised she would dump the asshole as soon as she got home.

  Smiling, the man had said, “Good girl. I have a daughter about your age and if anyone did this to her, I’d have his head on a platter. You deserve better than that and don’t you ever forget it.”

  Speck’s eyes filled up with tears, amazed that she had come across someone so kind and caring. She hadn’t believed anyone outside the Litter would ever be truly nice to her again and the guilt of the bullshit story she’d told the guy began to feel like an acidic ball in her belly. Going against her better judgment, she hugged the guy, whispered “Thank you,” into his ear.

  He hugged her back fiercely, then pulled away and wagged a chubby finger in her face. “Don’t forget what I told you. No one deserves to be treated like that.”

  She nodded, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. “I will.”

  After giving her one last smile, he turned and walked away, heading off to his job or wherever he might be going. Out of Speck’s life forever, she knew that much. She watched him go, disappearing deeper into the station, and pondered about what her life would have been if he had been her dad instead of the abusive dickhead that had merely donated his sperm to a woman he didn’t even love.

  Lost in thought, she stood rooted to the same spot for several minutes, a ticket she wouldn’t use in her hand while people moved all around without seeing her at all. She was invisible again.

  She had to will herself out of the self-imposed daze she was in and get back to business. Although she felt awful about doing so, she went back outside and sold the bus ticket to yet another stranger for half its original price. The commuter seemed tickled pink at her good fortune, handed over a few bills and strode away, bouncing a little more than she had been before Speck stopped her.

  Speck was almost tempted to shout after her, “Don’t thank me, thank the guy with the bald head in the gray suit.” But, of course, she didn’t. She now had enough money for smokes and a coffee and it was time to move on. The rain had slowed to a light drizzle but the air remained chilly and she was anxious to get inside and pour warm liquid inside herself.

  She left the bus station behind, thinking about the nature of kindness and for the first time wondering if it could be just as contagious as cruelty. The idea gave her a tiny spark of hope, which was something she hadn't felt for a very long time. She wished she’d given the generous man an even bigger hug than she had.

  I’ll give him something even better, she thought as she ambled down the sidewalk in the direction of McDonalds. I’ll be just as generous to some stranger today, if I come
across someone who needs help or a favor. He would probably like that.

  It never occurred to Speck that she wouldn’t come across a person in need that day. She lived on the streets after all. She was surrounded by people who could use help in one form or another. It would only be a matter of time.

  CHAPTER 17

  Gillian knew Josh had been on the phone with Tess even before she’d entered his office. She didn’t know how she knew, but she did. She thought maybe she could smell her.

  Not Tess—of course she couldn’t smell Tess—not through a phone line. The mere idea of it was preposterous. No, she thought she could smell her through Josh. In essence, she could smell Josh’s reaction to Tess.

  And she didn’t like the way it smelled. Not at all.

  It smelled like…love.

  Was her boyfriend—her boyfriend—still in love with his ex-wife? And if so, exactly what did she intend to do about it?

  The entire ride home, Gillian had been plagued by these thoughts, these questions. She’d driven fast, like she was late for a very important meeting, but it was anger that had kept her foot pressed down on the gas pedal. The taste of him still lingering on her tongue while she weaved in and out of traffic…

  Why had she gone to his office in the first place? She couldn’t remember now. To surprise him with a lunch date? Yes, she thought that was right. To surprise him, but definitely not to suck him off.

  Oh, she knew that had surprised him all right, but it hadn’t been her intention. That idea had only come once she knew he’d been talking to Tess. A little reminder, letting him know who was the better woman for him. Who would do the things he liked without complaint…

  And she thought she'd succeeded. Once she was finished with him, she could no longer smell that love scent on him. Afterwards, he reeked of a different odor. A satisfied lust odor, with undertones of wanting more.

  Yes, she could always leave him wanting more. It was one of her specialties. Men couldn’t get enough of her, even when they were long since dry, a part of them kept right on wanting her. They couldn’t wait for the next time and cursed themselves for not having better stamina.

 

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