by Emily Bishop
A niggling voice pipes up in the back of my mind again. I don’t know enough about her to feel the way I do. I’m being an idiot, and I should know better. Naomi slides her mouth from mine and pulls my shirt collar aside so that she can nibble on my shoulder.
“Mmm, that is as tasty as I imagined,” she says. Her hand picks up its pace on my dick, and once again, the rational thoughts are banished as the blood flow heads south, far away from my brain.
Naomi tugs on my shirt and tears it from my body. I barely have time to lift my arms before she tosses it on the floor. She sits back, and I lose my grip on her pussy as she takes in my bare body.
“It’s my turn for a taste,” she says. She holds my shoulder down with one hand as she dips her head and licks my shoulder. Her tongue traces a white-hot path downward, and to my surprise, she clamps her mouth over my nipple and sucks.
My whole body erupts at the sensation. Her fingertips dance along the head of my cock as she sucks, and my body is on fire. Right when I can’t take any more, her tongue leaves my nipple and continues its journey south. She runs it along the crease of every ripple in my abdomen, the slick feel of her tongue turning me on with each stroke on my skin.
She reaches the barrier of my jeans, and she looks up at me with those stunning dark eyes of hers as she removes her hand from my dick so that she can unbutton my jeans. I watch her, entranced. She moves at a snail’s pace, a glint in her eye as she removes the button from my jeans, then slowly lowers the zipper.
I’ve never seen anything so sexy in my entire life. She tugs at my jeans, and I’m forced to lift my ass so she can bring them all the way down. Her gaze lands on my crotch beneath a black pair of boxer briefs, and her hungry expression is mesmerizing.
I cannot wait to fuck this woman.
I lean forward, ready to take control so I can do what both our bodies want, but she stops me with a hand.
“Not yet. I said I wanted a taste.”
“You are driving me insane,” I say through gritted teeth. She beams up at me from the floor, her face mere inches from my dick.
“Good.”
She dips her head and runs her tongue along the length of my underwear, giving my cock a hint at what it will feel like with her mouth on my bare skin. Her eyes leave mine as she focuses down south. Her fingertips hook into the top of my underwear, and she tears them down as easily as she did my pants.
She blows gently on my hard dick, which is throbbing at this point. She looks up at me again with that sexy grin of hers, and then she focuses on my cock, running her tongue from my balls to the head then back down. I lean back into the couch as she fucks me with her wet mouth. She alternates between licking up and down and taking it inside her mouth and sucking, hard.
“I’m going to come if you aren’t careful,” I warn her. I’m too close, and I don’t want this to end so soon. I want her to get off at least twice before I do.
My statement only serves to speed her on, and she sucks harder. Her head bobs up and down with the rhythmic motion, and if I don’t act soon, it will be too late.
“Come here,” I growl.
I pull her up from the floor and settle her back on my lap. With one hand, I pull at her panties and slide them off her legs then toss them next to mine. She is bare before me, slick and wet and so ready to be fucked. I guide the tip of my dick to her opening, and she slides down, taking me inside her.
She tosses her head back as she bounces up and down on my cock. This time, I get a fantastic show, but it’s not enough. Her dress is still hiding valuable assets from my view.
As she rides, I reach down and grab her dress.
“Arms up. Now.”
She obeys, and I slide the garment up over her head and toss it aside. To my disappointment, there is a thin bra underneath. Naomi slides down and takes my dick deep inside her. Then she stops and locks eyes with me. There is so much trust in the level of eye contact we keep during these moments.
Isn’t that strange, given our circumstances?
Nevertheless, I hold her gaze as she reaches back and unclasps her bra. Her breasts tumble free as she throws it to the side and picks up her rhythm. Now I can watch her fuck me as her tits bounce up and down. I can’t resist them. I reach out and tweak her nipple, and she moans. I pull her forward, and I suck as deeply as she did on mine, pulling her nipple out with my teeth as she grinds along my hard shaft.
Her moaning picks up tempo—she’s not far off from her first orgasm. I pull back from her nipple and grasp her perfectly round ass. She wants a hard ride? I’ll make her sore for days.
I lift her and drop her back down, getting a little rough. She screams out in ecstasy, and I am driven on with the knowledge that this is what will get her to the finish line. I spread her ass cheeks as I raise and lower her over and over again, fucking her with all my might. She reaches forward and rubs her clit, but I notice that she’s not watching this time.
She is just feeling. Experiencing.
We’re in an awful lot of trouble. I wish I could care as my dick slides in and out of her, the friction winding up for a killer orgasm for us both. Her legs shake as I pump into her, the only sound in the room that of my balls slapping against her ass with every thrust.
“Ben! Fuck!”
Her body spasms around me, and it’s enough to milk me dry. I almost never come at the same time as my partner. In fact, I can’t remember ever doing it, but as my cum releases into her, that fact has now changed. Our bodies pulse as she collapses against my bare chest, and our bodies heave together as we fight to catch our breath.
I wrap my arms around her and hold her close. It’s a nice sensation. I find that I’m reluctant to let her go, which is a new one for me as well. My gaze darts to her broken-ass window, and reality crashes in.
Damn.
I have questioning I need to do at the station. Skippy has a lot to answer for, and I’m prepared to play as bad a cop as I need to so he’ll talk. I have failed to protect the people of this town long enough. I’m not going to fail again.
I can’t.
“What are you thinking about?”
I look up at Naomi and realize that she’s watching me. My limp dick is still resting inside her, but she doesn’t move, so neither do I.
“Your broken window. Someone ought to fix that.”
Her eyes lower—shoot, have I disappointed her with my answer? What did she want me to say? That I’m thinking about how much I’ve already failed her? That I’m not sure who she is, and I don’t know how to balance that with the fact that we’re clearly compatible in every way I thought I’d never know?
The window was the safest answer.
“Yes, well. Things have been a little hectic of late.”
The erotic spell is broken. Naomi slides off my lap and back into her dress. I notice she doesn’t bother with her underwear. I wanted to give her two orgasms, but it’s too late for that. With every passing second, she grows distant again, and I find myself wondering why.
This is not a pattern I enjoy.
I dress myself with haste, then I rise and stand before her. Even as strong as she’s pretending to be, I can tell she’s scared out of her mind, and that thought is enough to get me right back to being pissed off.
It’s time for me to go talk to Skippy and get some fucking answers.
“Do you have somewhere you can go? I don’t think it’s safe for you here.”
Her gaze combs over the room, and when she looks back up at me, her eyes are filled with loss and sadness. I would give anything to change that expression.
“You’re right, unfortunately. I think I’ll stay in a motel, for tonight.”
I nod, glad that she’s decided to be sensible, then I hesitate. I could invite her to stay with me, but the vibe isn’t right. She’s holding back still, and she sure as fuck doesn’t trust me. “If anything comes up, I’ll call you,” I say, silently cursing myself.
“Sounds good,” she says. She walks me to her front door an
d opens it, then steps aside for me to walk through.
I’m being dismissed again. This time, it feels much more personal. Do I mean anything at all to this woman besides a sex partner?
Did I seriously have that thought?
“Take care, Naomi. Make sure you lock your doors, no matter where you are. You’re clearly not safe.”
“Clearly,” she echoes, and her voice is melancholy.
Again, I’m left in the dark. There’s more here, but why the fuck won’t she open up to me enough to let me help her? A wave of annoyance washes over me, and I nod to her once.
“Goodbye then,” I say, and I turn on a heel and make my exit.
I can’t be distracted by any feelings I might have here. I have to refocus and get back in the game. When I reach the end of her walkway, she finally answers.
“Goodbye.”
Then she closes her door, and I’m a damned fucking idiot.
25
Naomi
“Mom, seriously, I’m fine.”
It’s the twelfth time she’s asked. At first, it was fine. I love my mother, and I’m grateful that she cares about me. That doesn’t mean that I can confide in her in any way. Not about this.
In this, I am completely and totally alone.
“I’ll call you in the morning, OK?” I say, holding the cell to my ear.
“But, darling, I’d hate to think you’re all alone. What about Katie? You can’t go stay with her?”
“No, Mom. I swear, I’m fine.”
Mom sighs, one of those pregnant pauses follows. She’s about to lay something on me, all right. True mom-style advice. “You sound exhausted, Omi. You sure that restaurant isn’t more trouble than it’s worth?”
I shake my head. More trouble than it’s worth? Not as much trouble as I was in living back home with my ex lurking nearby. “The restaurant is everything to me, Mom, and it’s the one thing in the world that makes me happiest. It’s been a trying week.”
“And why is that, exactly?” My mom’s not getting anything out of me, and she has to know it. That never stops her from trying though, does it?
“Because it has. I love you and Dad, too. Tell him, would ya? Goodnight.”
“Night, honey,” Mom replies.
I hang up, then collapse backward onto the motel bed. It’s a tiny room, with yellowing wallpaper and mottled green lampshades on either side of the queen-sized. I don’t want to consider the sheets. This is the cheapest motel in the area, and given it’s off-season in a tourist area, that’s saying a lot.
I stare up at the ceiling and think about Katie tied to a chair, my broken apartment window, and Jordan’s hands digging into my wrists. How did I get myself into so much trouble, when all I wanted was to cook and make people happy with my food?
I am not a bad person. I have done nothing but try and make the world a better place. Granted, I did get in with the wrong crowd when I got with Jordan, but he fooled my brother and me at the same time. When I think back on his antics, I know now that I should have known better, but hindsight is 20/20. Now I have to live with the consequences of that relationship, just as Alex does.
Why is he back in my life?
My mind is cluttered with questions and self-pity and anger and a cocktail of plenty of other turbulent emotions, but it is also exhausted. I should call Ben and tell him everything about Jordan. I was about to this afternoon, but I still can’t get past his suspicions.
I can’t help thinking that Jordan will find a way to hurt Katie or me if I do. And my feelings for Ben are… god, they’re all over the place. If I tell him about Jordan, he’ll either arrest him or tell me it’s bullshit. It’s all a lie, and I’m the perpetrator.
No, he wouldn’t.
The doubt drives me up the wall.
Soon I drift, and then I’m dreaming about sawing the ties from Katie’s hands, and then we’re running for our lives as Skippy chases us with a chainsaw. The chainsaw whirrs over and over, only it sounds more like the tinkling ring of my cell phone.
The room is dark as I come back to consciousness. My cell phone rings. When it stops, it only starts up again seconds later. I lean down and pull it from my purse on the floor. When I glance at the screen, I see Katie’s name, and the time.
My stomach drops.
I press the answer key and hold the phone to my ear. “Katie? What’s wrong?”
Sirens wail in the background of the phone, and Katie sounds like she’s crying.
“Naomi. Get to the restaurant as soon as you can. Hurry.”
“What’s happened? What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”
“I’m not hurt, I just… oh, God, Naomi. Please get here. I can’t even…”
The call ends, and the last thing I hear is Katie sobbing. My heart races, but I’m so cold. I’m out of bed with my purse in hand, and I thud into my room door, wrench it open and dart out into the parking lot.
Minutes later, my car’s engine roars to life. I’m ten minutes from home, but I’m still not anywhere Jordan or Skippy knows about. Maybe.
I turn onto the oceanfront road, and a plume of dark smoke towers ahead of me. My stomach drops into my seat and my foot pounds against the gas pedal as I speed as fast as I can to my cottage.
As I edge closer, the glass front doors of my restaurant explode into the street, and flames lick at the ceiling. There are road blocks set up behind a fire truck, and I slam on my brakes and jump out of my car. Firemen are lined up with their hose as they work to demolish the fire before it can take out every little cottage on the block.
Including my own.
“Naomi!”
Katie rushes toward me with her arms outstretched. In the flickering firelight, streaks track down her cheeks from her tears, but I feel nothing. I am completely devoid of emotion as I walk up as close as I can get to my restaurant, everything I put my heart and soul into, and watch it burn.
Katie throws her arms around me. On instinct, I hug her back, but my gaze does not leave the burning building.
“What happened?” I ask again. My voice is a dull monotone. I never imagined what it would feel like to watch my dreams go up in smoke, but here I am, living it out in real time. Katie sniffles and releases me. She stands beside me as we watch the firefighters frantically moving to douse the flames.
“I got a call in the middle of the night. Apparently, they tried to call you several times, and when you didn’t answer, they were able to reach me as a backup contact. I wasn’t asleep anyway, so I came right over. I called you until you answered.”
I process that bit of information before my next question floats into my frazzled mind.
“They?”
“The fire alarm company. They call the manager to confirm whether it’s a real emergency or not when the alarm goes off.”
She’s repeating what she’s been told. It’s nothing I don’t already know. I did my research when I worked to launch the place.
Now everything I did, all that hard work, is gone.
This was my dream. This was the culmination of years of study, hard work, heartbreak. I don’t have enough to get another loan for this place, and even if I did, who’s to say that it wouldn’t get burned down again? Insurance or not, this is a fuck up. Who’s to say they’ll pay out without a hefty investigation into how the fire started?
Skippy may be locked up, but clearly, Jordan isn’t playing any games here.
My eyes well with tears, and they burn like hot sandpaper as I watch the fire slowly lessen with the work of the firefighters. My phone jingles again, and this time, I pull it out from my purse right away.
After all, I missed the most important phone calls of my life tonight. I’m not about to make that mistake again.
Jordan’s name, and three little words, pop up on the screen.
I warned you.
I can’t tell what I feel in this moment. Somewhere in my body, rage dwells. It’s paired with despair, heartbreak, and absolute desolation. All of this is so overwhelming as to r
ender me completely numb, and I pocket my phone as I stare back up at my burning life.
“Who was that?” Katie asks.
I can’t tell her. I can’t tell anyone. I’m trapped in a hell that I’ve created for myself, and there is clearly no escape. He will come for me until the day I die, or the day I join his ranks again. Either way, I lose.
“Nobody important,” I lie.
It’s convincing because I sound completely deflated, which is exactly how I feel. Katie is my one friend. She’s already been through hell this week because of me and my connections. Maybe she deserves to know what Jordan did, how it connects to her.
What if I do tell her? What if I tell Ben, and Jordan kicks it up another notch? Is Jordan capable of murder, or worse? Look what they did to Katie, to scare me off. Even though I have a connection to Ben, there’s no denying the fact that there’s a lot we don’t know about each other. I’m not entirely convinced he still trusts me, so if I come clean to him, risking Jordan’s wrath, what happens next? It’s Jordan’s word versus mine, and Jordan is a smooth talker with many connections.
A cruiser speeds up the road and screeches to a halt. Ben shoots out of the driver’s seat, and I should be glad to see him, but I can’t conjure up any emotion at the moment. He rushes over to Katie and me and takes my arms in his hands, forcing me to look at him.
“Naomi, are you all right?”
I’m dazed as I stare up into his beautiful blue eyes. I could spend an eternity gazing up into those crystalline depths.
“What?” I ask.
His eyebrows narrow as his gaze combs over me. He’s trying to figure out if I’m hurt.
“She’s OK, just in shock,” Katie supplies.
Shock. That’s a good word for how I feel right now. I can think of so many better ones, though. I’ve never been more devastated in my entire life. Ben’s eyes stay on me as I look away from him, back to my restaurant.
“Naomi!”
Ben’s voice is stern and peppered with worry. I look back up at him, and I realize something. None of this would have happened if I had listened to Jordan and left Ben alone. His one request was that I back off of the sheriff, that I move on and leave the yacht case alone.