Breakaway: A New Adult Anthology

by Jay McLean

  "Is that where she was going on the night she disappeared? What if she died during this edge play and the woman got rid of her body?"

  "No. They had already done the scene earlier in the week. I'd seen cuts and bruises on her body. She insisted that the domme had been careful and that everything had been negotiated in advance. Safe, sane and consensual BDSM seal of approval."

  "Maybe she went back. Maybe something went wrong."

  "She claimed she wasn't going to. She said the climax hadn't lived up to expectations, and besides, she preferred men."

  Rory considered this for a while. "If she wasn't going to try it again, why were you arguing?"

  I shrugged. "That domme was a safe enough player, but that doesn't mean everyone she might meet in those circles would be. You get some weirdoes hanging on the outskirts of any non-traditional lifestyle. Hadley thought nothing could hurt her, and that she would live forever. She didn't see the world as a dangerous place."

  "I see from the reports that the cops interviewed some sadomasochist types. I was wondering about that."

  "They took every opportunity to throw their knowledge of her preferences in my face. I kept explaining that we weren't exclusive. They didn't like that. And of course they accused me of being kinky too."

  "Are you?"

  I shrugged. "Sure, but not as crazy-kinky as Hadley. Vanilla can get boring, but I like being able to breathe during sex."

  "Me too," she said with a shudder. "I totally get bondage. That could be hot. But cutting and strangling, no way."

  There was an odd little silence after this. She didn't act as if she was holding my earlier heavy-handedness against me, but as usual, I was having trouble reading her signals. "What do you want from me, Rory?"

  She twisted in the doorway, one arm pulling at the sweatshirt so it stretched down one leg and rode up the other. I don't think she knew she was doing it. She was so awkward. But I thought it was adorable.

  She moved several more steps into the bedroom. The girl might have a genius IQ, but there were some things she's not so smart about. Damned if she didn't come right up to the bed and put her arms around me. I turned stiff as a slab of sheetrock and tried to shove her away. She bounced right back, doing her puppy dog routine. I half expected her to give me her paw. "It's just a hug, Griff. No need to get weird."

  "I don't hug," I told her, grabbing her by the upper arms and jerking her down beside me. She sprawled on the mattress and started to laugh. "I've told you before—I'm not a nice guy."

  "Agreed. You're an asshole."

  Goddamn it, I wanted to wipe that smirk off her face. "Don't touch me unless you wanna fuck me."

  Her smirk died, but a spark of mischief gleamed in her eyes. She laid a hand on my chest and pressed down hard, moving her fingers to explore my pecs. My breath caught in my throat and my dick hardened instantly.

  "Who says I don't?"

  Well, damn, that was all it took. "Prove it."

  I thought she looked uncertain for a moment. But her hand continued its exploration of my chest. She was so close now that I could practically hear her heartbeat. She was warm and sultry with that pliant expression that girls get when they're slipping into hormone overload.

  I put my hands on her, gripping her head between my two palms. Her hair was so soft and fragrant. She must have showered recently because it was still damp. I think she flinched when my hands first closed on her, but when I didn't slide them down to her throat, she relaxed.

  "Are you sure, Rory? 'Cause I'm never winning any awards for being gentle in bed."

  She tilted her head back so she could look up at me. "I don't crave gentle," she said, making me wonder what she did crave. "Just...you have condoms, right? Because I'm not on the pill and I sure as hell don't wanna have your dumbass kid."

  This made me laugh. Have a kid with Rory? I wondered if it would be super-smart and funny like she was.

  I ripped open the drawer in my bedside table and scattered a few condom packages on the bed. Then I picked her up and laid her down in the middle of the mattress. I let her watch me as I stripped. T-shirt up and over my head. I had put my pants back on after I'd left her in the living room. I pulled my leather belt out of its loops and laid it over the headboard. Let her think about that a bit. She looked apprehensive. Good. I loved getting a reaction out of her. She tried to be so cool, so unflappable. But her blushes revealed her true state of mind.

  She didn't hesitate, though. She helped me slide the pants off, pulling impatiently as I struggled to free myself. Once I was naked, she dove between my legs, found my straining cock and took it gently between her hands. She explored, first with her fingers, and then with her lips. Her mouth opened and she took me in, slowly, tentatively. Her tongue flicked along my shaft. It felt fantastic. She sucked as I withdrew, and I think she flinched as I slammed back into her, hard. I'd probably made her gag, but she covered it well. I got the sense that she wasn't very experienced with this. I'm not sure why, but I liked that idea.

  As we continued, she seemed to get the hang of it. She lowered one hand to my balls and started to stroke. My cock throbbed, jerked forward and twitching. I caught my breath, thinking, shit, I'm gonna come, but the situation wasn't quite that desperate. The pleasure felt extreme, much more than usual, like a hit of cocaine. Shit. I could get addicted to this.

  “Does that feel okay?" she asked, the next time I withdrew.

  "It feels great. Don't stop."

  “'Cause, I'm not, like an expert or anything.”

  "Whoa...there's something you're not good at? I'm shocked. Shocked."

  She giggled. "I know. I'm insufferable. You should get a humanitarian award for putting up with me."

  I pulled out of her mouth and drew her up beside me. I'd had a scary thought. "This isn't gonna be your first time, is it?"

  "I auctioned off my virginity, remember?"

  "You don't seriously think I believed that?"

  She laughed. "I thought it was a pretty good story."

  I snorted. "It's about time I spanked you for your lies." I heaved her over my thighs, pushed the sweatshirt up over her ass, and gave her the swat I'd been wanting to give her all evening. She wriggled a little and moaned. I gave her a couple more.

  "Tell me the truth. You're not a virgin, right?"

  She rolled over so she could see my face and squinted up at me. "The truth is, no. Not a virgin. But I've only had sex a few times, most of which kinda sucked."

  Great. Did that mean I had to be considerate and sensitive? Really not my style.

  "First time was in high school, just to get rid of the virginity thing. The boy wasn't experienced, either. We both fumbled around. It was embarrassing. I didn't even want to see him again afterwards."

  "The first time for guys isn't too great, either. We don't know what we're doing, but we try to pretend we do."

  "Yeah. It's fucked up. People shouldn't have sex until they're older or they've watched a lot of porn."

  Again she had made me laugh. But it was sad if most of her knowledge of sex had come from watching porn. "And the other times?"

  "Better, but still not very good. College boy sex. A step up from high school boy sex, but nowhere near as good as vibrator sex."

  "So I have to compete with vibrators and porn flicks?" Inexplicably I found myself laughing, too. Damn, I hadn't laughed so much in months.

  But I was also stroking her, and I could feel her desire rising. She was already sopping wet between her legs.

  "I want to have Griff sex," she said, kissing my lips. "However you like it. Well. Except for the strangling thing."

  "No strangling thing, I promise." I gently lifted the sweatshirt over her head and helped her slide her arms out of the sleeves. She had nothing on underneath. It was the first time I'd seen her breasts, which were more generous than I had expected.

  She caressed me with more confidence, then she slid down to take me in her mouth again. Fuck, it felt good. I could feel my loins tighten,
and I wanted to thrust in deep, right down her throat, if she could handle me. But I doubted her prostitute friends had taught her the fine points of deep throating.

  The sensations kept building, punching me in the vitals and sending waves of pleasure radiating along my nerves. Her mouth was warm and soft and her tongue hard and clever. She found the rim and the crazy sensitive spot just under it. I groaned. I'd be howling soon at this rate. I grabbed her hair and lifted her away from my cock, not as gently as I ought to have done. She let out a yelp of pain from having her hair pulled, and I murmured a gruff apology. I didn't let her go, though. "Slide up," I ordered, pulled her up and over onto her back. "Get those legs apart, babe. I want you open for me."

  She gave a little moan at my words. I kissed her, then found her breasts with my fingers and played. Her arousal made her flesh richer, softer, damper. She felt warm to me, hot. I stroked her face with one hand while pinching one of her nipples with the other. My cock was rubbing against her belly, hungry, twitchy, but I was determined to drag it out for as long as I could.

  She kept trying to grab my penis and guide me to her, but no fucking missionary position for me. I flipped her over and forced her up on her knees, pressing her head down into the pillows with the heel of one hand. Her ass was sticking up, and a luscious ass it was. "Legs apart," I said, giving her a slap on her butt cheeks for forgetting. "Wide apart and keep 'em that way."

  She obeyed. It was a tricky position to maintain, but she did her best. She was breathing frantically and churning her hips, so I knew she was into it. I reached between her legs and felt her wetness all over my fingers, hot and slippery. I explored her outer and inner lips, touching her lightly, moving ever so slowly forward toward her clit. I brushed it softly the first time. She gasped. Her hips thrust back toward my fingers as I skated them away. Oh yes. I intended to tease her thoroughly. She kept trying to angle her clit under my fingers, and I kept approaching and backing off. Without warning, I thrust two fingers inside her, and she cried out and writhed against me. Fuck. I knew she was ready, but I loved making her wait. I love seeing my lovers open and vulnerable. I love it when they want it so badly that they can't bear it if I stop.

  So I did stop. It was only to grab a condom package and rip it open, rolling it onto my throbbing dick, feeling it stretch to take me, but Rory moaned and whispered, "Please, Griff. I'm almost there."

  I slapped her ass again, harder than before. "You'll go there when I say so, and not before."

  "Oh my God," she moaned.

  "Come too soon and I'll punish you."

  The soft excited cry she gave when I said that pushed me over the edge. I couldn't wait any longer. I went up on my knees and covered her, spreading her even wider, guiding myself to her slick opening from behind. She pressed back against me, her hips weaving and churning, just as desperate to be filled as I was to pierce her. I slid in, slow and sure, and she mewed softly. Once I got a ragged rhythm going, I sought one of her breasts with my hand while leaning over her, my body enveloping hers. I grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her head back, then I nipped on the back of her shoulder. I tugged on her nipple, harder and harder as we both rode the thrusts. I tried to remember not to let it get too rough. With Hadley, who loved to be hurt during sex, the rougher I was, the better she liked it. But this wasn't Hadley. This was a much sweeter, gentler girl.

  I found her clit again and brushed my thumb against it. It was hard now, erect and flaring. I kept the stimulation rhythmic and steady as I drove in more deeply. She screamed and started to come around me, sobbing with the force of it. I loved the spasms that made her clamp down even harder on me. Squeezing my eyes shut, I focused on this moment, the heat, the need, the friction, the wanting, the pooling swelling pleasure. Then I felt myself shatter.

  She snuggled up to me afterwards. Hadley never used to do that. Usually, she would just get up and leave. But Rory fell asleep with her head on my shoulder, and I let her stay like that, even after my arm started to go numb.

  Chapter Nine

  The next morning was Saturday, so I didn't have to go to work. I awakened to the delicious smell of coffee. I must have been having some sort of erotic dream because my cock was so hard it actually hurt. I could smell Rory's scent on the sheets and the pillows.

  I staggered naked into the bathroom to piss, then into the kitchen for coffee. Rory was at the computer, of course. She lived there.

  "Good morning," she said, sounding all chirpy.

  "Is there something you don't understand about the words 'get the fuck out of my place'?"

  Her face fell about ten stories. I gave her a good hard glare, then allowed my mouth to relax into a grin. "Gotcha."

  She leapt up from the comfy chair and rushed over to pummel me with her fists, laughing. She grabbed me, flung her arms around me and nestled close. "I thought you didn't want me," she whispered into the hollow of my throat. I put her hand on my cock so she could see how inaccurate that supposition was.

  I detached her with warnings of hot coffee spills, and ordered her back to bed. She raised no objections.

  We stayed there most of the day. At one point she slowly traced my entire body with her hands and eyes, seeming so concentrated on what she was doing that I finally asked her about it.

  "I'm memorizing you."

  "Why? I'm right here."

  "I know, but I want to keep you in my mind. You know, for later."

  For later when she was no longer with me. "I wish we could really do that," I said, thinking of Hadley. And Sean. "Memorize someone and keep them with us that way."

  She smiled. "I sorta can. I don't know if it'll last forever, though." She looked sad.

  I wasn't sure what she meant, so I asked, "Do you really have a photographic memory?"

  She nodded. "It's a freakish thing. People think it would be cool to remember everything, but believe me, it's not."

  I wasn't sure if she meant she could literally remember everything.

  "They still don't understand it, you know. Neurologists, psychologists. Some of them say it doesn't exist. But I did real well in most subjects because all I had to do was read a book and I could see the whole thing in my mind. The words, the pictures, everything. I can even flip the pages. It's like my brain indexes everything and I can pull up any page whenever I want. Sometimes it's creepy, actually. I mean, there's stuff you read that you might not want to remember."

  I tried to get my head around this. "You mean that anything you see, any experience you have is held permanently in your memory?"

  "Not exactly. I have to concentrate. Totally focus. But once it's in there, I can almost always recall it. If I don't concentrate, it's more like regular memory, I guess. Although I do remember a lot of shit. It's called eidetic memory. I'm not really all that brilliant, you see. I just have a remarkable memory."

  "You said you had an IQ of 204."

  "That was true, but who knows how accurate those tests really are. I test well. My brain works really fast and I can analyze stuff. See patterns. But it might be because I'm young. I don't know how long it'll last. In fact, I think I'm not as good at remembering things now as I was a few years ago." In one of her abrupt mood changes, she smiled at me, the teasing light coming into her eyes. "When I'm as ancient as you, I probably won't remember shit."

  "Hey! I'm only twenty-three."

  "Yeah, but aren't guys supposed to hit their sexual peak at nineteen?"

  "Let's see how long you remember this," I drawled, as I started tonguing her again.

  * * *

  I offered to take her out to dinner that night, since we'd eaten everything she'd cooked the night before. I was glad she accepted, since I hadn't forgotten the way she'd dismantled her cell phone. I still wasn't sure what she was running from, but it probably wasn't the cops if she was willing to go out in public.

  We went to a not-too-expensive steak house in Rolling Meadows, the neighboring town. It was Saturday night, so the place was crowded, but we got there late
enough that we didn't have to wait for a table. After we'd ordered, she started in again on me about Hadley: "Do you think one of those edge play people killed her?"

  She asked the question as if the conversation we'd had last night had only happened five minutes ago. I wondered if that had something to do with her weird memory. I really didn't want to talk about it, but since she hadn't plagued me about Hadley for almost 24 hours, I decided to cut her some slack.

  "I don't know. The detectives interviewed the woman Hadley scened with. Probably other members of that crowd. They kept it quiet, though. Her family didn't want that particular line of investigation to catch the attention of the press. It was bad enough that she'd been dating a townie like me without word getting around that she was also into the rough stuff."

  "They didn't make an arrest."

  "No. As you've discovered yourself, Hadley vanished without leaving behind any evidence."

  Rory mused about this, and then followed up with what seemed like a non sequitur: "Is there a place around here called Reef Hill? Or a group—maybe a company—called the Reef Hill Consortium?"

  "Not that I know of."

  "There are hills here, but reefs, I don't think so. We're pretty far from the sea."

  "I've never heard of it. Why?"

  She made a vague gesture. "I ran across the phrase in an email I was reading." She seemed to be looking inward, and I wondered if she was visualizing the email in her memory. "It just struck me as odd, that's all."

  "You're hacking people's emails?"

  "Just the people she corresponded with at the college, and at the places where she volunteered."

  "It was over a year ago. That stuff is still available?"

  "Some is. You'd be amazed at the length of time some files stay on servers."

  There was a stir at our end of the restaurant as a large party came in. They were seated at a spot where several tables had been pushed together. I didn't pay much attention, but Rory straightened up like a hunting dog on point. "I know that guy," she said softly. "I was just looking at his picture earlier today."