THAT MAN 5 (The Wedding Story-Part 2)

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THAT MAN 5 (The Wedding Story-Part 2) Page 4

by Nelle L'Amour


  My poor baby. I wrapped my arms around him and drew him close to me. He held me against him, my head resting on his heart. The heart that belonged to me.

  “I think the bitch must have gotten me drunk, but I seriously don’t remember what drink I ordered. Or how many.”

  “Did you blackout?

  “I must have. But I’ve never done that before.”

  I digested Blake’s words and his condition. He had some form of amnesia. In my rape support group, there were a couple of girls who unknowingly had been drugged at a bar and had been date raped. When they woke up naked in a strange bed or in a dark alley, their rapist was long gone, and they had no memory of what had happened.

  I had a hunch. Fucking Kat had drugged him and virtually raped him. What a sick chick! I was going to prove it and have my revenge.

  “Come on, baby. Let me give you a bath. And then we’re going to your doctor.”

  “I don’t need to go to a doctor. I just need to rest and be with you.”

  “Baby, I want to make sure you’re all right. And I have a theory I want to prove. It’s going to take a test.”

  Reluctantly, Blake agreed. I helped him off with his clothes and then led him to the bathtub.

  Chapter 9

  Blake

  I felt fucking violated by the fucking bitch. Dirty, used, and abused even though I couldn’t remember a goddamn thing. The thought of Kat having her mouth any place on my body, let alone my dick, sickened me. I only belonged to one woman. My tiger who was kneeling by the tub and washing away the vague memories of last night. How could I let myself drink my way to submission and oblivion? Hadn’t I learned my lesson? I leaned my head against the tub and squeezed my eyes closed, soaking in the guilty pleasure of the tender touch of the woman I loved. And could have lost.

  “How do you feel?” asked Jennifer, helping me out of the tub. She draped a large fluffy towel around me.

  “Fucked up.”

  The bath had helped only a little. Waves of nausea still rolled in my chest; my head was spinning, and I was experiencing coordination problems. Even buttoning my jeans was a challenge. Jen helped me get re-dressed and insisted on driving me to our family doctor’s office in Beverly Hills. God bless her. I was seriously in no condition to drive.

  I tried to think straight. How was I going to handle this mess? Pointing the finger at Kat had all kinds of repercussions—from an unwanted scandal to a rift between my mother and hers. The wedding itself could be jeopardized.

  “Jen, I don’t want to go through with this,” I protested as she pulled her Kia into the parking structure of the medical building where Dr. Klein, an internist, had an office. He had been our family physician for years and had a very close relationship with my parents as well as my sister.

  “You have to. For yourself. And for me,” she retorted in search of a parking spot. “We need proof that Kat drugged you.”

  “Drugged me?” My voice rose an octave.

  “Yes.” She shot the word at me, without giving me a chance to contest it.

  “What do I have to do?” I could take a bullet for Jen, but the thought of a long needle being inserted into my flesh freaked me out. I could be such a wuss.

  “Not much. Just pee in a little cup.”

  I inwardly sighed with relief, but the outstanding issues weighed on my chest. “What if it comes back positive?”

  “Then we’ll know.” Her voice was matter-of-fact.

  “But what if Dr. Klein starts asking all kinds of questions?”

  “You’re just going to tell him that you don’t remember a thing.”

  “Are you going to tell Kat’s mother?” That would certainly create hell.

  “Not if I don’t have to. But I’m going to need your help.”

  My tiger shot me a mischievous smile as she pulled into a parking spot. Somehow, I knew her creative juices were flowing.

  *

  Dr. Klein’s office was packed, but he was able to squeeze me in with only a short wait. Jen accompanied me to the examining room and made me take a seat on the examining table. She sat down in a close by armchair.

  “Do you want to play nursie?” I asked, my sense of humor trickling back. Perhaps to mask my stress.

  “You wish.”

  Oh did I. The thought of her in a tight little nurse’s uniform giving me a physical—touching me everywhere that needed touching—sent a tiny jolt to my cock. At least, my manhood was intact. Or so I thought. Maybe next Halloween I’d buy her a costume and I could live out my fantasy.

  My fantasy came to an abrupt halt when Dr. Klein strode into the small sterile room. A kindly looking man in his mid fifties, he was holding a clipboard and wore a stethoscope around his neck.

  “Well, hello, Blake. What brings you here today?” He gave me the once-over. “You look a little under the weather. A touch of the flu?”

  Jen chimed in. “No, Doctor. He just needs to give you a urine sample, and we need the results back today if possible.”

  Dr. Klein lifted a brow. “And you may be?”

  “Jennifer McCoy. Blake’s fiancée. Nice to meet you.”

  “Nice to meet you too, Jennifer. My wife and I got your lovely wedding invitation. We’ll be there.”

  Jennifer smiled. “Wonderful.”

  Dr. Klein winked at her. “So did our boy have a little too much sex and get a urinary tract infection?”

  “Not exactly, Doctor,” I replied. “But I need to have my pee tested for anything unusual.”

  Doctor Klein’s eyes narrowed, creating a deep crease between them. “Blake, are you doing drugs? Cocaine? Ecstasy?”

  “No, sir. But I think I may have been drugged.”

  “That’s very serious, Blake. Can you tell me more?”

  I remembered Jen’s instructions and shook my head. “I don’t remember a thing.”

  With resignation, he took my blood pressure and then listened to my heart. His brows furrowed. “Your heartbeat is erratic and your blood pressure is abnormally low.”

  Fuck. Maybe I was going to die.

  He put the stethoscope to my back and asked me to take a few deep breaths.

  “And your breathing is somewhat labored. How do you feel?”

  “To be honest, I feel like crap. Sluggish, nauseous, and dizzy.”

  “Anything else?”

  Again, Jen chimed in. “He’s having difficulty with his motor skills.”

  The doctor listened intently. “Like what?”

  “Like unbuttoning his jeans.”

  The doctor shot her a wry look. “I would imagine Mr. Burns is usually very good at that.”

  Jennifer’s face flushed while I let out a small laugh.

  “Very well.” He ambled over to the sink counter and retrieved a lidded plastic cup sealed in a sanitary wrapper. He handed it to me. “The bathroom is down the hall. I’d like you to fill up the cup at least halfway.”

  I’d been through this routine for my annual physicals. I had to hold my big cock and aim. The rim of my dick was bigger than that of the cup. This time, I didn’t want to do it alone.

  “Um, uh, Doctor. Jennifer’s right. I’m having a lot of trouble buttoning and unbuttoning my jeans. Can she come with me?”

  “I don’t see why not. But both of you be sure to wash your hands first. When you’re done, just print your name on the label with the marker that’s on the shelf, and leave it there. We’ll try to get the results back to you in a few hours. There’s a urologist I know who owes me a favor.”

  I jumped off the examining table. “It’s pee time.”

  Jen looked at me sheepishly. “Do I really have to come?”

  “Yes. You have to come.” I gestured toward the door, my very naughty mind already back in business.

  A short minute later, we were huddled in the small, functional bathroom. After we washed our hands, I tore off the cellophane wrapping of the cup and removed the lid.

  “Jen, this is going to be a team effort. Unbutton my jeans.”r />
  Silently, she did as bid. I’d gone commando. The little rise I’d gotten from my nursie fantasy was long gone. My heavy cock hung low.

  “Now baby, grip my dick and aim it into the cup.” Her warm hand clamped the lower third. There was a lot more I wanted her to do with it than play fire hydrant, but truthfully, I wasn’t sure I could get it up. A terrifying thought sent a shudder through me. Fuck. Did I have permanent damage?

  “Am I doing it okay?” Jen asked hesitantly, breaking into my disconcerting thoughts.

  “You’re doing just great, baby. Here goes.”

  On the next breath, I shot a stream of pee into the cup. It wasn’t quite the same as shooting my load with Jennifer’s hand wrapped around my cock, but it felt good. I’d never peed with a girl before. It was strangely sexy. I wanted to reward Jen for believing me. After labeling the cup and sealing it with the lid, I placed it on a shelf with a row of other used cups. Jen commended me.

  “Good job, Blake. We should wash up.”

  I squirted some of the liquid soap onto my palms. Jen followed suit, but while she did, I folded my arms around her tiny waist.

  In a rapid heartbeat, I unbuttoned her jeans and slid them down her legs. My small motor skills were improving. I slipped a soaped-up hand under the band of her lacy panties and then lubricated her folds. I watched her lips part and her head arch back in the mirror above the sink.

  “Blake! What are you doing?” she breathed out.

  “Thanking you properly for believing me. And for coming here with me.”

  “Oh!”

  I began to caress her slick pussy and soon felt her heat. I had to make this quick. Before Dr. Klein sent someone to check on me. Hastily, I moved my fingers to her clit and circled it vigorously. She bit down on her bottom lip to suppress her sounds though sexy little whimpers lodged in her throat. Her breathing was uneven. Enjoying every minute, I nuzzled the back of her neck.

  “Oh, God. You’re making me come!”

  “That’s the plan,” I breathed into her ear, rubbing my cock against her backside with the hope I’d get an erection. Fuck. Nothing. Not even a little twitch. I refocused my energy on Jen, rubbing her nub harder.

  “Oh, Blake,” she moaned as she bucked against me, her pussy trembling and spilling with her juices.

  I planted a chaste kiss on her head and just held her. “Thanks again for coming, tiger. I needed you here with me.”

  “Blake, I’m always going to be there for you.”

  “The same, baby. The same.”

  Her dreamy smile met mine in the mirror, and then we headed back to the examination room where we took our former positions. Dr. Klein returned shortly.

  “Did you have difficulty urinating, Blake?” he asked. “You were in the bathroom for quite a while.”

  “No, Doc. Not at all. A little rough at the beginning. I’m not used to peeing in a cup. But once I got it going, no problem.” But the truth, there was a problem. A big one. Or should I say a not so big one, depending on how you looked at it and put it into perspective. I couldn’t get an erection. I desperately wanted to tell him about it, but I held my tongue.

  With a smile, he nodded. “Good. And I must say you’re looking a little better than when you first came in. I suggest you go home and rest and keep your jeans buttoned until we have the results of your test. I’ll call you as soon as I get them.”

  I stood up from the examining table and joined Jennifer. Dr. Klein turned to face us.

  “And Jennifer, a pleasure to meet you. Congratulations on your engagement. I look forward to the wedding.”

  Jennifer beamed. “We look forward to seeing you there.”

  “Ditto.” I shook the good doctor’s hand and thanked him for seeing me.

  Silently, I thanked Jennifer for believing me and not calling the whole thing off. I still didn’t know how I was going to handle Kat who was out to sabotage us. Or the new, potentially life-changing problem I faced, thanks to her.

  I fucking loved my tiger.

  And fucking hated that bitch.

  Chapter 10

  Jennifer

  I wanted Blake to rest. Doctor’s orders. It was Saturday, hence no need for either of us to go into the office. So I made him put on his pajamas and tucked him into bed. Then, I heated up the leftover matzo ball soup I’d made and frozen a few weeks ago. He said he wasn’t hungry, but I forced him to eat it. In fact, I fed it to him, lovingly blowing on each tablespoon before putting it to his lips. Blake, it seemed, was always taking care of me. The role reversal felt so good. I loved taking care of my man. That man who loved me so. He told me he felt a little better after finishing the bowl of the nourishing broth. I smiled. Blake’s grandma was right: matzo ball soup was Jewish penicillin as much as it was an aphrodisiac. Blake, however, was in no condition for a romp.

  I joined him in bed, snuggling close to him. I flipped on the TV to get our minds off the results of the urine test. In the middle of a SpongeBob episode, Blake’s cell phone rang. It was Dr. Klein. I asked Blake to put the phone on speaker mode. My heartbeat sped up with anticipation.

  “Blake, we got back the results of the urine sample,” began Dr. Klein.

  “And…” Blake sounded anxious. I clasped his hand.

  “Everything is normal except…” The doctor paused. “The lab found a high level of Rohypnol.”

  “What’s that?”

  “It’s the brand name for flunitrazepam, a drug that is commonly used in drug-facilitated sexual assaults. Otherwise known as the date-rape drug.”

  There was silence on Blake’s end. His lips tightened into a grim, angry line. I knew what he was feeling. I was feeling it too. A maelstrom of rage and abuse.

  The doctor continued. “Blake, this is very serious. It’s considered a crime. Do you have any recollection of who did this to you?”

  Blake drew in a sharp breath. “Doctor, like I told you before, I don’t. I went to a club, the one I belong to, and had a cocktail at the bar. Someone must have slipped it into my drink.”

  I gave his hand a little squeeze, letting him know he’d handled the inquiry perfectly. The doctor responded.

  “Well, Blake, I still think you should report it. And let me tell you, you’re very lucky. The high dose of Rohypnol mixed with alcohol could have killed you.”

  A shiver ran through me from my head to my toes. The thought of Kat taking Blake away from me forever was unfathomable. I squeezed his hand tighter, never wanting to let go of him.

  Maintaining his composure, Blake told Dr. Klein he would think about it and then took another deep breath. “One thing, Doctor. I hope you’ll share none of this with my parents or sister.”

  “Of course not, Blake. Doctor-patient privilege.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Of course. One last question, how do you feel?”

  “Better but still queasy.”

  “That’s normal. I want you to rest and drink plenty of fluids. By tonight, the drug should be out of your system.”

  “I will.” Blake paused, placing his free hand on the duvet close to his cock. It had been very still today. A look of uncertainty washed over his face. “Doc, will this flu-nit-shit-whatever drug have any long term effects on my uh…um…equipment?”

  I heard the good doctor chuckle. “No, Blake. You should be absolutely fine.”

  Blake blew out a breath of relief. Inwardly, I did the same.

  With that, the two exchanged good-byes and Blake ended the call. He hastily tossed his phone onto the bed and then turned to look at me. His look of relief had turned to rage.

  “The fucking bitch!”

  I gently cradled his embittered face in my hands, turning it toward me. “Baby, the good news is you’re going to be okay.”

  Taking me in his arms, Blake thanked me again for trusting him and for making him take the test. But he was still mad as hell. What was most infuriating him was that he didn’t know what do next. He explained all the ramifications of taking Kat down. Expo
sing her. Moreover, Kat most likely still had all the photos on her phone and could use them to spin more evil.

  He slammed his fist against the bed. “Fucking, fucking bitch.”

  Thank God, for the cushy memory foam mattress (we’d never bought a springy one) because on any other surface, Blake would have likely broken some bones with the force of his fist. I lifted the hand to my lips and tenderly kissed the back of it.

  “Fucking, fucking bitch,” he muttered again.

  “No, baby, fuck the bitch.” My father had always preached, “Don’t get mad. Get even.”

  I told Blake my idea without giving away too many details. And that I needed his help. “I trusted you, baby. Now, you must trust me.”

  “I do, tiger.”

  After a sweet kiss, he did as I asked and made two calls. Yes! Things were working out.

  Sucking in air through his nose, he set the phone down on the bed and asked me to face him. His large hands took hold of my shoulders. He looked anxious.

  “Jen, there’s something I’ve got to tell you about Kat. About our past that I should have told you before.”

  My pulse sped up and my eyes fluttered. He hadn’t been honest with me?

  He took in a shaky breath and on the exhale he simply said, “I got Kat pregnant.”

  My heart skipped a beat. “You have a child?”

  “No, tiger.” And then a long tense pause. “She had a miscarriage.”

  “When did this happen?” Though shocked, I kept my tone even keeled.

  “The summer after high school. We were at some graduation party, and I got drunk. As always, she was all over me. Stupid me succumbed. The fucking condom must have torn from her nails, and I guess she was off birth control.”

  “Jeez.”

  “Jen, she wanted to keep the baby so I would marry her. My parents were up in arms. Rightfully, neither of them thought we should do that. We were too young. I wanted nothing to do with her, and believe me, the last fucking thing I wanted was to be a father at the age of eighteen. Her parents, however, wanted us to marry. The recession had hurt them, and they were going through lean times. If Kat married me, they would no longer have to support her extravagant lifestyle, and they could smooch off my parents, who had protected their investments. So, they supported Kat’s decision. I was fucked. Afraid of a scandal that would embarrass my family, I lied and told her I’d marry her if she kept my identity under wraps until the baby was born. She went along with it, taunting me each day she would break her promise if she caught me with another girl.”

 

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