Holt
I groaned in pleasure as I sprawled on a chair with my pants pooled around my ankles. I stared through half-opened eyes at the woman from the bar kneeling between my legs. She'd introduced herself as Michelle, but it was a name that I wouldn't be calling again, so it didn't really matter. I'd made it clear I was only interested in the next couple of hours and she agreed, saying she was only in town visiting friends and looking for a distraction.
Once we got to her hotel room, she didn't waste time pushing me into a chair and sinking to her knees. She fisted me in her hand, running it up and down my length several times before licking the head. Her lascivious eyes rose to mine as she took me in her mouth. She definitely knew what she was doing. I twisted her hair around my fist and held her head while she sucked and licked me even harder.
Knowing it wouldn't take long to find completion, I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the chair and let myself enjoy her obvious skills. There was no need to draw our time together out; I was here for only one reason. I didn't need to look at her as she worked her mouth up and down my cock. I didn't care what emotions flickered across her face because I wasn't interested in her. I'd make sure she was equally pleasured and then be on my way. I understood that made me a huge ass. I owned that; no need to try to pretend otherwise.
After Claire, women were merely a pleasant diversion, a warm place in which to find relief when jerking off in the shower didn't cut it anymore. The first time I'd had sex after Claire died, I'd suffered so much guilt I rushed to the finish line. As soon as it was over, I went home and drank until I passed out. Having sex with other women had grown easier over time, but it remained what it was - only raw physical pleasure.
This evening wasn't supposed to be any different. Usually, I pulled images of Claire from my memory bank while I got off, but tonight I couldn't move past visions of soft, dark auburn curls and brown and green eyes. My balls tightened as I pictured Maddy's mouth sucking me.
"I'm going to come," I warned. I was a gentleman, after all; I didn't want to assume she was going to swallow anything.
She grunted and sucked even harder, and within seconds I groaned loudly and shot my load down her throat, the entire time envisioning Maddy's face.
Michelle released me from her mouth and stood gracefully. She straddled my legs and settled on my lap, grinding her warm center over my still semi-hard dick. She leaned forward, but I grabbed her hair and pulled her head back before her mouth made a connection with mine.
I never kissed anyone. To me, kissing was an intimate sign of affection between true lovers, not just two people randomly fucking.
I hadn't kissed any woman since Claire.
Her pout turned into a gasp as I palmed one of her breasts through her blouse and leaned forward, gently biting the other nipple through the material. Her head fell back as I began to unbutton her blouse, allowing my fingers to drag along her bare skin. Her moan was only overshadowed by the ringing of my cell phone.
"Don't answer it," she begged when she noticed my efforts froze.
I was tempted to comply with her wishes. Michelle had a beautiful body, and I could easily go one more round with her, maybe more if it helped me work Maddy's image from my brain. Plus, I owed her an orgasm. But as the Imperial March, my ringtone for John McCloskey, continued to play on my phone I knew I needed to answer it. He wouldn't call this late on a Friday night if something important hadn't come up. I fumbled for my phone, nearly knocking her off my lap as I reached for my pants. She clung tight and ground harder.
"Hello?"
"Holt. I'm glad I reached you."
"What can I do for you?" I barely contained my hiss as Michelle continued to grind against my dick, which was beginning to respond again at her touch.
"I need you to find Madelyn."
"Madelyn? What do you mean 'find' her?" My attention was immediately diverted from my dick to the fear I heard in John's voice. I grabbed Michelle's waist to halt her erotic motions.
"I received a security call that her apartment building is on fire, and I have no idea how bad it is or where she is." Abruptly, I pushed a very frustrated woman off my lap and quickly began to redress, ignoring the scowl on her face. I couldn't stop the rush of fear that chilled the fist-sized space in my chest.
Maybe not so empty after all, I thought as I recalled James’s words that I still had a heart.
"Obviously, she isn't answering her phone, but I'm still out of town and can't go check on her. Damn it! Why didn't we make sure she had a cell phone?" There was a crackling noise, and a female voice sounded in the background, followed by John's hushing and assurances he was doing what he could. "Emma and I will try to get back tomorrow, but in the meantime, I need to know she's safe and taken care of. Find her and put her up in a hotel until we learn how much damage there is."
There was another scuffling noise, and Mrs. McCloskey's panicked voice sounded on the phone. "Holt, dear, please find her! She's been through enough without this happening."
Whatever magic Madelyn wove, it was clear both of the McCloskeys were caught in her spell.
"I'll find her." I was already grabbing my jacket.
"Call me as soon as you do." John was back on the phone.
"I will." I abruptly disconnected the call not wanting to waste any more time. I tossed an apology over my shoulder to a bewildered and pissed off Michelle Whoever.
The door slammed shut, muting her shouted, "Asshole!"
I pounded the call button to the elevator. Why was Madelyn Stone constantly an issue for me? It wasn't enough her face was all I could see tonight, even blocking out Claire's? The irony that it was Maddy herself cockblocking my attempts to get her out of my head wasn't lost on me. But I couldn't deny my concern for her. She was a friend, after all.
I was grinding my teeth by the time I reached the lobby. I was ready to punch something by the time I got to my car. I was almost sick to my stomach as I neared Madelyn's apartment and saw the multitude of emergency vehicles blocking the street.
There was no place to park along the street, but the fire trucks were blocking any traffic anyway, so I shut off the engine and left my car in the middle of the street. I took off running for her building. Tongues of orange and yellow flames licked their way out broken windows on the fourth floor while billows of black smoke rose from the roof. I ignored the yellow police tape and darted onto the lawn, but a police officer was quick to stop me. "You need to stay behind the line, sir."
"I'm looking for someone who lives here,” I panted, winded by my sprint as well as by fear. “We can't get in touch with her."
His severe look eased. He gestured toward an area to my left. "We've staged an area over there for all tenants. You'll probably find her there."
I gave a jerky nod and hurried in that direction. All around me women sniffled, children with wide eyes clung to a blanket or stuffed animal, and men stood quietly with stunned looks on their faces. But nowhere did I find the petite redhead I was looking for, and no one I asked could tell me anything about her. Finally, one little boy pulled on a dark-haired woman's sleeve. She bent down so he could whisper in her ear, his eyes nervously flickering between her and me.
"He say he no could sleep and was looking out the window. He see your friend leave earlier, but he not know if she come home or not.” She spoke with an accent and her eyes were sympathetic. "I'm sure she okay. She a smart and good girl."
She was both of those things, but that didn't guarantee her safety. Claire could have been described the same way, but it hadn't saved her. I wanted to cling to the hope that she wasn’t home when the fire broke out, but where would she go so late on a Friday night? A date? That thought added to the already hollow feeling in my stomach.
I thanked the woman and her son and grabbed the arm of a passing Red Cross volunteer. "I can't find someone who lives here. She's not here with the rest of the residents. Where else can I look?"
"I'm sorry, sir, I don't know. We're working right now
to get all the names of the tenants and their locations to make sure they're all safe. What's your friend's name?"
"Madelyn Stone."
The volunteer scanned the papers on her clipboard. "I'm sorry. I haven't met up with her, yet. But don't worry..."
I was off before she finished her platitude. Don't worry? How is one not supposed to worry when you can't find the very person whose apartment is burning?
I was an action-taker; I hated standing by helpless to find her.
I had to keep reminding myself all these other people had made it out safely. There was no reason to believe that Madelyn wasn't somewhere among the crowd of onlookers that had gathered to watch the midnight drama. I moved through groups of people, not bothering to apologize as I bumped shoulders or accidentally knocked someone off balance. I made my way to the man pointed out as the fire chief. I was about to demand a list of all that was being done to ensure no one was trapped in the building when I spotted a small figure walking hesitantly down the sidewalk.
Despite the darkness, the slight build drew my eye. I hurried in that direction, hope hastening my steps until the figure stepped under a streetlight. I stumbled in relief at finding the object of my search. I had to pause and gather my wits together. I wasn't fazed by the extreme relief that surged through me at her appearance; that was human compassion. But the intense desire to protect and take care of her as I witnessed the shock and despair etched on her face? That was more than altruism. It was more than friendship. It was caring a little too much.
In a matter of minutes, I understood what it would be like to lose Madelyn Stone from my life.
It was unsettling.
17
Maddy
Red and white flashing lights and blaring sirens roared past me as I left the Laundromat. The smell of smoke carried on the slight breeze, so I knew they must not be going far.
My steps staggered to a halt as I rounded the same corner the trucks had taken moments earlier. I couldn't believe what I saw as I slowly approached the building I now considered home. But the pungent smoke that burned my nostrils confirmed what my eyes were telling me – my apartment was on fire.
Shock and disbelief swept through me only to be replaced by what was best described as grief. I dropped my basket and clasped one hand over my mouth and the other around my stomach as I thought of all the people who might be losing everything they owned as they watched as helplessly as I did. I didn't have much, but everything that had been purchased and donated to create a home for me, not to mention the few items I scrimped and saved for, was probably either now a pile of ash or a soggy mess, and the thought of that made me sick. I was momentarily frozen in place, unable to take my eyes from the scene.
I was suddenly engulfed by strong arms and pulled against a large body. Panic paralyzed me before my adrenaline surged. I flailed my arms and kicked my feet and squirmed as hard as I able before I realized that the owner of the body was calling my name and had released me, except to support me by one of my elbows as I nearly spun myself to the pavement.
"Madelyn. It's me."
"Holt!" I regained my balance and slapped one hand over on my chest as if I could hold my heart from beating out of my chest. "Do you have a thing for scaring the life out of me?"
"You?" he sputtered. "Where the hell were you? I was terrified something happened to you when I couldn't find you, and...and..." He dragged a hand through his hair, which looked like he'd done it several times before now.
"I needed to do laundry, so..." I shrugged and turned back toward the commotion.
"This late at night? And you were walking alone? Again? " Holt's mouth dropped open. "What kind of fool are you?"
"Apparently a homeless one," I mumbled. He was right. It had been reckless of me, but at the time, I hadn’t been thinking about anything but the envelopes in my basket. Looking at my apartment building, maybe that careless decision had saved my life.
"Oh, fuck, sweetheart, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that. I just..."
His endearment caught me off guard. Judging from the dazed look on his face, I don't even think he was aware he'd used it, but it didn't stop him from reaching out and pulling me close. "I'm glad you're okay," he rumbled in my ear. "It seems I'm always apologizing to you." He took a step back from me and his eyes burned into mine. "But please, don't go out walking alone at night again."
I nodded, uncertain what to make of his sudden affectionate nature, but his arms provided a safe shelter against all the crazy, and I couldn't deny myself, enjoying the knowledge that someone had cared enough to search for me and make sure I was safe. For so long I'd only been able to depend on myself, and for a few minutes, I wanted to let go of it all and have someone else carry me, no matter how temporary it might be.
"Come on." He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and guided me toward one of the crowds. "They're trying to account for all the residents. We need to make sure they know you've been found."
I whirled around to face him as a new thought overwhelmed me. "Oh, my God, Holt! Did everyone get out?"
His eyes were solemn. "I'm not sure. Let's start by making sure they know you're safe."
I nodded and he steered me through the crowd that had gathered. He appeared to know where to go as he led me to a group where I recognized a few of my neighbors. The reality of the danger set in as I witnessed people in various states of dress and their distressed faces. The fire was mostly concentrated on the floor and side where I lived, but I was sure all of us would be searching for a new home until the entire building could be fixed and made livable again. Hopefully, most people didn’t lose all of their belongings.
While I'd met a few of my neighbors, I wasn't close to any, except maybe Serafina. I wondered if any of them had even noticed I wasn't among them, wondered if any of them had raised the alert that I was missing. Once again the concept of being alone in the world gripped me. Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around myself and stepped closer to Holt, who looked down at me.
His arm tightened around my shoulders. "It will be okay."
I heard him, but I wasn't sure I believed him.
He flagged down a woman with a Red Cross logo on her jacket. I watched his lips move as he spoke to her, but it was like was watching everything from a distance, all my senses working, yet feeling numb at the same time. She wrote something down and glanced up at me. I stared at her, fascinated by how her face was constantly changing colors - blue, white, red, dark, blue, white, red, dark...
"Madelyn?" Holt's gentle shake finally snapped me back to awareness of the flash of red and blue lights, the rumble of engines, and the shouts of the firefighters as they called out to each other.
"I'm sorry. What did you say?"
She must have picked up on the shakiness of my voice because she waved to someone and a blanket appeared within seconds, which she shook out and handed to me. I didn't bother telling her that cold wasn't the reason I was shaking. Holt must have understood; he draped the rough blanket around my shoulders and then wrapped me in his arms. I rested my head against his chest and watched as the fire was slowly brought under control.
"I asked if you have anywhere to go tonight." The Red Cross worker tried again.
I shook my head.
She nodded. "That's fine. Not to worry. We're setting up a shelter for tonight where you can shower and sleep, and then we'll help you make other arrangements."
"No need. She'll stay with me, starting tonight." Holt's chest under my ear vibrated with his words.
I looked up quickly at him. "Um, I'll be fine. You don't have to do that." We'd come a long way, but being alone with Holt, in his home, made me nervous.
He looked back down at me. "It's not up for discussion. You need a place to stay, and what I can offer is better than a cot in a room full of strangers."
I opened my mouth one more time to voice a protest.
His voice was firm as he cut off any further arguments. "Unless you have somewhere else to go, end of the
discussion. And don't say the McCloskeys, because they aren't home."
At first, I bristled at his take-charge manner, but not having any other realistic choice, I nodded. Besides, isn’t that what I just thought I wanted? Someone to take care of me for a change? I relaxed in his arms and gave in to the need. I just wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to let go of it; it felt too good.
Holt gave the Red Cross worker all of his contact information which she jotted down and then left to see to another couple standing a few feet away. The fire was contained, but there was no way anyone was going to be allowed back into the building tonight.
Holt took my elbow and guided me through the maze of emergency vehicles still hogging the street. His truck finally came into view. He helped settle me in the seat, blanket and all, and strapped me in with the seatbelt as if I was a child. I didn't have the energy to protest, still numb from everything that had transpired over the past several hours.
The ride to his apartment was mostly quiet. I wanted to ask Holt how he learned about the fire and why he came to look for me, but he seemed a little preoccupied.
Probably already regretting his offer. I'm sure he had better plans than babysitting me once again.
I rested my head against the seat and closed my eyes. I sensed him periodically glancing at me, but I didn't acknowledge him. I was overwhelmed by everything that had transpired today. It was all I could do not to raise my fist to the sky and scream in frustration. Why did the fates seem to be against me? How many times was I going to have to pick myself up and start over?
Warm fingers rested on top of mine. I cracked open my eyes and watched as his strong fingers worked to unclench and entwine with mine.
I looked at our clasped hands and thought how small and pale my hand looked in his larger, more tanned one. We were opposites in so many ways: he was well-educated, successful, confident, and came from a loving family; I had a high school diploma which I earned from a prison cell, had no promising future, and no matter how much I tried to pretend otherwise, I was a broken piece of the girl I used to be, and that wasn't saying much. And now I was homeless.
Yesterday's Tomorrows Page 12