Rock Hard

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Rock Hard Page 4

by LJ Vickery


  A sea of agreement greeted the troubling words. Marduk and Anshar looked at each other with no small amount of distress.

  Chapter Four

  Tess entered her apartment on the street behind Dee Dee’s lounge in Wollaston. What was wrong with her? Why had she agreed to meet…what was his name? Marduk?

  She sighed and kicked off her canvas sneakers. This was the type of thing that could get her into big trouble, and she’d had more than her share of that in twenty-nine years. She wished fervently that she could talk to her twin sister Holly. Holly, who had been with her through thick and thin until one day six years ago, she had made vague apologies to Tess, then disappeared.

  No one knew where she had gone, but at least they knew she was alive. Every few months, she would put an after-hours message on the answering machine at their brother’s gym, letting her family know that she was okay, but never once had she slipped and divulged her location.

  Tess missed her like mad, especially during times like these when she needed advice. When things had spun out of control in the past, Holly had always helped her deal with shit, sometimes not in the best way, but her sister had always been there by her side. Her absence was probably one of the reasons that Tess had left their small hometown in Maine. The only difference between her exodus and that of her sister being that her dad and brother knew exactly where Tess was.

  The headache that had been threatening became a pounding reality, and Tess went to the medicine cabinet in the small, utilitarian bathroom with its molded stall shower and wall hung sink for some pain medication. As she popped two capsules and wandered back into her spartan living room, she settled onto her thrift shop sofa and thought back to the long trail of events that had led her here.

  Her sister Holly had been no angel, but at least to Tess, Holly had been her savior. As the sisters had reached adolescence in their happy rural home, their loving mother had died unexpectedly of a brain aneurysm. The family had been devastated. Their father had retreated into himself, and their little brother Huxley had lost himself in a fantasy world of warriors and heroes. The two girls had begun experiencing horrendous nightmares.

  The doctors had blamed it on shock and stress, but Tess and Holly had known differently. Night after night, they would both awaken screaming, reaching for each other across the small divide between their twin beds, sobbing uncontrollably in each other’s arms. Dad, and Huxley younger by two years, could do nothing to stop the terror. The girls had found comfort only in each other.

  Once they had started sharing the demon-filled content of their nightmares in the darkness of their room, they had been terrified even further and had made a pact never to reveal their dreams to anyone. What they had discovered was far more horrifying than anyone would ever believe. They were living the same nightmares.

  They had been no more than sixteen years old when Holly had smuggled in that first bottle of whiskey, convincing Tess that they could chase the dreams away with alcohol-induced sleep. Oddly enough, Holly had been right. A good stiff shot before bed had allowed the girls to remain in a dream-free stupor all night. Unfortunately, after a while, one shot had proved ineffective, and they’d had to increase their consumption to keep the nightmares at bay. They’d used babysitting money and a friend’s older brother to supply their habit and, in the ensuing years, the girls had become sullen and belligerent as their addiction had taken hold. The pair had barely squeaked by in high school and then the local college they’d both attended.

  Tess, at least, had found a job when she’d finished school. She’d worked at a local farm, picking organic produce and, despite her alcohol dependency; she had showed up at work every day, kept to herself, and performed her duties well. She hadn’t needed to use much brain power, and that had been fine by her. She’d only worked to drink.

  Finally, Huxley, or Hux as he was known, had seen enough. Now twenty-one to their twenty-three years, he towered over them by a good foot. He’d tired of their father making excuses for his sisters and had confronted them about the alcohol. Giving them no choice, he’d dragged them to a meeting for alcoholics he’d looked up online. His ultimatum—continue the meetings and stop drinking or find another place to live. The next day, Holly had been gone. The family had been devastated, their father in a tail spin again. Hux had blamed himself for Holly’s disappearance. After that, he’d left Tess alone.

  Without her sister by her side, Tess had continued to find solace in alcohol and had dropped even deeper into darkness. Working by day and partying by night, she’d kept her nightmares at bay, but life had been simply about existing until she’d hooked up with a crowd of drifters that Holly would never have approved of…and had met Gage.

  Gage had been eight years older than Tess and the undeclared leader of a loose group of partying fools. His brand of fun had included coercing whoever happened to show up at the bar into petty fighting and high stakes drinking games, pushing them all for his own amusement. When Tess had joined the group, he’d tagged her immediately as his. She had been just his type—small and helpless. A lost soul he could use for his own pleasure. He hadn’t waited long.

  One night, too drunk to understand what was happening, he’d dragged her back to his one-room apartment and, without apology, had taken her virginity. She couldn’t remember experiencing pleasure or pain, she’d been too far gone…but she remembered all the days and nights of torment that followed.

  Gage had quickly established control over her life. He’d pick her up at work, making sure she had no time to socialize with anyone at the farm. He’d kept her away from her family as much as possible, telling her they couldn’t possibly love her anymore because of who she had become. He’d convinced her that he was the only one who could ever find her appealing, she was such a plain, scrawny excuse for a woman.

  He’d used her body for sex, never once seeing to or attempting to give her any enjoyment. Tess had learned to dread the look in his eyes that told her it was time to perform her nightly duties, which might include intercourse she was never quite ready for or gagging as he thrust his dick mercilessly into her mouth, slapping her if she neglected to swallow.

  But even those degradations hadn’t been enough and, a few months before the end, he’d added an incentive. Every time Tess would emit one sound of protest or try to pull away, he would carve a small notch on the side of her right breast with the sharp blade he kept on the night table.

  Most times, Tess had been able to keep silent and escape punishment, but often Gage’s cruelty was beyond endurance. By the time they’d parted ways, she’d had nine marks, scars lined up on her soft flesh.

  On their final night, Gage had taken his depravity to a new low. He had become enraged seeing Tess lying unresponsive beneath him, immune to all the pain that had worked so well before. He’d suddenly flipped her over on filthy sheets and pinned her helplessly, his knee wedged between her legs. When she’d realized his intentions, she’d cried beneath him, begging, sobbing, and eventually retching as he’d torn away whatever had been left of her self-esteem.

  Later that night, Gage had pushed her limp body from his truck onto the front lawn of the family farm, where Tess had lain, uncaring what might happen next. Huxley had found her there early the next morning, covered in blood and staring with unseeing eyes. He’d tenderly lifted her from the ground and, from that moment on, had vowed to bring her life back to right.

  Hux had taken her to the hospital, then he and some of his most trusted gym members had searched and searched for the man who had administered such savage abuse. Gage must have realized he had gone too far because the group never found him.

  Huxley had returned home, determined that now Tess was free of one evil, he was damned sure going to help her become free of the other.

  That had been three years ago, and she had never looked back. With the help of her brother and father, Tess had recuperated physically from her wounds and she’d willingly attended alcoholics’ group meetings every night. People at work had e
ventually found her more responsive, more open to friendship, and she had worked her way up to an assistant farm manager’s position. Tess had even begun thinking that she might go back to school to get a degree in sustainable agriculture.

  Every morning as she’d showered, the scars on the side of her breast reminded her of how far she had fallen and had given her the strength to move forward, always forward with life. Then the dreams had started again. Not the violent nightmares of her youth, but something similar. Something disturbing, yet compelling that had beckoned to her, pointed her in a specific direction; a direction that had led her to Quincy, Massachusetts.

  She’d reasoned that she was a grown up now, not an irresponsible youth. After discussing her sudden desire to move with her father and brother, she had put into motion a plan that would allow her to work for a conservation trust on the south shore of Boston. With her friends support, she had also contacted the local chapter for alcoholics and hooked herself up with a new meeting place. Hux hadn’t been happy about the whole thing, having been such an enormous part of her recovery, but Tess couldn’t find it in herself to confide in him about the new round of dreams.

  There was something in Quincy that she had to do. Her nocturnal stirrings had been telling her that she would find answers there. This was a quest; her quest…and her sister’s. One thing was certain, Tess wasn’t going to let the dreams control her this time. She would find out what they meant and damn well control them!

  So here she was, on the cusp of who knows what, agreeing to meet a strange man on the beach tomorrow morning. The pull she felt for him was exhilarating and terrifying. She hadn’t felt an attraction for anyone in so long. She was fearful…but there was also something about him that made her think he might be part of why she had come to Quincy.

  Was he part of her dreams? Could he help her find answers? She had to move forward no matter how scared she was. She felt strongly about this, and afraid or not, she had to admit that Marduk looked really good in a pair of jeans. A delicious shiver ran down her spine…and even better out of them.

  Chapter Five

  The donut shop on Quincy Shore Drive was mobbed with a morning crowd. Marduk was counting on this to help him steal two cups of coffee…well…acquire two cups of coffee. He had already filled his pockets with small creamers and packets of sugar, stirrers, and napkins, and made sure to slip the proper amount of money for the purloined goods into the cash register the last time it had opened.

  Now all he had to do was wait until two large black coffee’s appeared on the counter. His chance came as a distracted youth placed his order, then began texting at the speed of light with his back to the counter. When the kid’s to-go order came up, Marduk gave it one touch, and voila! The texting kid was oblivious, and the now invisible beverages were whisked from the store. Wasn’t technology sweet?

  Marduk drifted to within a few hundred yards of his destination, still not knowing how close he could get to Tess without regaining his body. His mind should be on their meeting. He had thought of little else all night, but right now he couldn’t shake his fixation on the rich, dark liquid clutched in his hands.

  How would it smell as he lowered his nose to the cup? How would it taste as it rolled over his tongue and down his eager throat? Gods, he moaned, I’m such an asshole. He was thinking about coffee the way he used to think about sex. Ah, sex. That got his mind off coffee. There was no doubt about it, sex would be possible again…with his titillating little mouse.

  An image of Tess moaning beneath him made it hard to breath. He pictured her naked and arching up toward him with need. Her soft little breasts would fill his hands, then he’d replace those hands with his mouth. He’d suck each nipple to a hard peak, before slowly working his way lower, from her ripened breasts, down the soft skin of her stomach until he reached the fine, downy hair that covered her pussy. He’d tease the small bundle of nerves at her apex, dragging moans of pleasure from her throat. Once she was arching up into his touch, he’d part her soft folds and thrust his tongue up inside her clenching core, feel her creamy flesh quiver, and taste her for the first time. Ahh. Better than coffee.

  Marduk felt the rough material of his jeans rub harshly against his hardened arousal and realized he was corporeal once again. His hands were instantly warm around the cups he held, and he was overjoyed to find that, when he regained his body, the things he clutched became visible as well. He lowered his nose, swearing that his cock grew harder from his Tess fantasy as he took in the luscious aroma of beans. Now there was a slice of heaven…sex and coffee all wrapped up together. He was going to have to try that one out.

  Tess sat on the wall, just as she had that first morning, but today she wore a form fitting spandex outfit in black that hugged her slight curves and suggested exercise…and sex. Marduk grinned, apparently everything today was going to remind him of sex. Things were certainly looking up.

  He had commanded Anshar to stay home to keep the painful, jealous antics of his best bud out of his head, so he wouldn’t have to feel guilty for his reconnection with all things tactile.

  “Hey,” he called out as he neared. Tess looked up slowly, pinning him with a warm, gray gaze. She wasn’t wearing her glasses today, and he instantly missed them.

  Perhaps…yeah perhaps…he had pictured himself gently removing her glasses and pushing her fine hair back over one delicate little ear, before drawing her chin up to receive the brush of his lips across her brow, until finally descending to claim her mouth in a hot, searing caress.

  When a flush hit Tess’s face, Marduk stopped. Could she possibly have read his thoughts…and how long had he been staring? Smooth move, dumbass.

  Marduk held a cup out in her direction. She reached to take it and accidentally brushed his fingers. He felt a sudden rumble of thunder, just like the day before when she had touched him. Jeez. If her hand could cause that much damage to his nervous system, what would the rest of her do? He couldn’t suppress a predatory smile that left her no doubt about his reaction.

  “Cream and sugar,” he actually purred, in a big cat kind of way, moving close to inhale not only the smell of java, but that wonderful spring rain essence that surrounded Tess’s body.

  “No thanks. I take it black,” Tess managed. Marduk moved closer and watched her blow across the liquid. Gods! What those lips could do to him.

  Letting the beverage distract him, he seated himself on the seawall beside her, opened his coffee carefully, and began emptying packets. He added one, two, three, four creamers, and tore the tops off of an untold number of sugars, dumping them all in and stirring with relish. He glowed with anticipation of his first sip, and damned near came in his pants as the liquid gold hit his tongue. His eyes closed, his breathing stopped, and he held the coffee hostage in his mouth for an inordinately long time. Tess broke the spell.

  “You, umm, like your coffee…a lot.” It wasn’t a question, and there was laughter in her voice.

  His eyes flicked open and he swallowed. “I haven’t had any in forever.” One edge of his lip quirked up at his own joke. “Well, not forever, but for a really long time,” he amended. “I love coffee.” He indulged again in the steaming liquid.

  “You like milkshakes,” Tess stated teasingly. “I’ve never seen anybody add that much stuff to a cup of coffee.”

  “Milkshakes?” Marduk went seriously still. “I’ve never had one of those.”

  “You’re kidding.” She raised her eyebrows in wonder. “What planet do you come from? Don’t tell me you’ve never had ice cream, either, or I’ll think you really are an alien.”

  “Ah, ice cream.” Marduk nodded his head and remembered the cold confection that had come in and out of his life over the centuries, starting with a frozen rosewater and vermicelli concoction in his early days as a god and ending with the cow’s milk confection they had made in winter while living in Merrymount. “I like ice cream,” he stated with certainty.

  “Well, good,” Tess laughed. “Me too, and a mi
lkshake is just some ice cream with milk and added flavor, like coffee or chocolate, all whipped up together.” He must have still looked puzzled, so she added, “You drink it.”

  A smile split his face. “I would enjoy one of these milkshakes.” He had certainly enjoyed his coffee, which was now long gone. Tess had barely sipped hers.

  “You don’t like yours,” Marduk asked, his mouth turned down at the idea of her not being pleased.

  “No, I do! It’s just that I thought I’d go for a run after we’re through…” She looked at him, unsure of her next words. “…what are we doing here, anyway?” She pushed her hair back distractedly from her face.

  Marduk cut her some slack. No need to talk of kidnapping plans. “We’re getting to know each other,” he grinned in response. “And in that case, you should know that I like to run, too.” He gave her a minute to assimilate before asking. “Could I join you on your run this morning?”

  Tess laughed as she looked him over from head to toe, taking in the leather jacket and casual clothes he’d donned. “You’re wearing jeans and boots. I do about a six-mile loop and you’ll be a mess by the end.”

  “Give me a minute to get back to my bike. I have some running clothes in a pack and can drop into the donut shop to change.” He had ridden one of a dozen brand new, super charged motorcycles from the god’s stable of acquired two-wheeled transportation. The gods had realized, as the year 1900 had rolled around, that the new-fangled automobiles couldn’t easily traverse the fire roads of the Blue Hills, but motorcycles were a different story.

  Ishkur, the god of spring-fire, had purchased the group’s first bike in 1907 and had quickly spread the love to all his brothers. Now, they vied for the latest and fastest bikes, taking daredevil rides on route 128 at 3:00 a.m. when traffic was at its lightest—not that anyone would notice because both the bikes and riders were invisible.

 

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