Insidious

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Insidious Page 32

by Aleatha Romig


  My sister hugged me tighter. “I’m so sorry, sis. They will try to figure out what happened. The hospital is keeping it quiet, but I wanted you to know.”

  Holding tight to the jacket in my arms, I nodded, unable to speak.

  As Travis quietly led me back to the SUV, I lost sense of time and space. Instead of opening the back door as he used to do, he opened the passenger door. The drive from the hospital to the penthouse was a blur.

  When we entered my apartment, I blindly walked to my suite. “I want to be alone,” was all I could say. I couldn’t form other words. There were none that made sense. Nothing made sense. How could Brody get ill? I didn’t get ill. I saw him yesterday at the hospital. He was fine… or was he? I remembered his intense warmth.

  The jacket in my arms was all that I had left of my dream of a normal life: all that was left of the only man to love me for me. I unfolded the jacket, laying it upon my bed, and inhaled. Brody’s aftershave emanated from the fabric. My chest heaved at the sense of loss. I should’ve felt this way for my husband, but I hadn’t.

  The reality struck: I was death, slow and insidious. I killed everything around me. That was what I’d been told since before I could remember. My mother had been right. I shouldn’t have been born. Now, karma was paying me back. Just when I had the promise of love and a normal life, it was snatched away. All Brody had ever done was love me, love me like no one else.

  I hugged the suit jacket. I didn’t have the chance to say goodbye. At least with Stewart I had said goodbye. Was that what I said? Oh, why the fuck had this happened to Brody? I was the one who deserved to die, not Brody. My knees gave way as I fell to the floor. Lowering my head, I hugged his jacket using it for my pillow as my tears permeated the fabric.

  Instead of being soft, the garment was bumpy. Wiping my eyes, I opened the coat. As I did, the scent of clean, fresh aftershave mixed with a new scent. Candy canes and little round mints filled my thoughts. I reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a half-dozen individually wrapped peppermints.

  No! Fuck no! He couldn’t be! It couldn’t be him.

  My body trembled as I jumped to my feet and ran for my door. “Travis! Travis!” I screamed, as I raced down the stairs to the main level. “Travis!” My legs barely held my weight as my eyes overflowed with tears. The salty remains flowed freely down my cheeks. “Fucking Travis, where the fuck are you?”

  He and Lisa met me as I rounded the corner to the kitchen. Seizing my shoulders he held me still. Both of their eyes opened wide.

  “Mrs. Harrington, what is it?” Lisa asked.

  Staring only at Travis, I held out my hand and opened my fingers to reveal the peppermint candies. My voice cracked with disbelief. “Tell me. Please tell me that he wasn’t one of the…” I couldn’t say the rest: that Brody was one of the friends.

  Travis didn’t speak; instead, he closed his eyes and nodded.

  “Noooo!” I couldn’t—didn’t want—to—process; my knees gave out.

  When I awoke, I was in my bed. Though the room was dark, I knew I wasn’t alone. “Travis?” I questioned.

  “Victoria?” the deep voice came from the darkness.

  “What happened?”

  The bed shifted, and I knew he was near. As my eyes adjusted I saw his profile: his tall, muscular body against the moonlit sky.

  “I had to catch your ass again.”

  I rubbed my cheek against my pillow as the memories came back. My chest ached with loss.

  “Lisa and I brought you up here,” he continued. “Dr. Conway came over and gave you something: a shot. You’ve been asleep for about six hours.”

  The emptiness was unbearable. “Travis, how?” Sobs came from deep within me. “How did Brody…?” I couldn’t even finish my sentence. I couldn’t say the word die.

  “I’m sorry,” he offered.

  “No, you’re not!” I screamed. “You didn’t like him. I saw the way you looked at him.”

  “I didn’t like him because he lied to you.”

  My tears resumed, stinging my swollen eyes. “I don’t want to hear this. Why are you even in my room? Get out of my room!”

  Large warm hands seized my shoulders.

  “Don’t touch me. I fucking told you not to touch me ever!”

  He didn’t let go; instead, Travis moved nearer as his warm breath skirted across my face. “He lied to you. I never lied to you.”

  I knew that what he was saying was true. I didn’t want to believe it, but deep down I knew it. My body shuddered with the truth that was on the tip of my tongue. With Travis still holding my shoulders, I whispered, “He was Peppermint Man.”

  “Peppermint Man? What do you mean?” Travis asked, puzzled, as he released me.

  I sat up. Realizing that I was still wearing my blouse and panties, I pulled the sheet around my waist and tried to explain, “There were some of the friends—I fucking hate that goddamned term—some who I identified by scents. One of them was kind…” My shoulders shuddered as I wiped my eyes with the sheet. “…or seemed comparatively kind. I named him Peppermint Man. He was the one I was with the day Stewart died.”

  “Yes.”

  “That was him… Brody.”

  Travis nodded.

  I shook my head in disbelief. “But he never told me he was there. He led me to believe…” I couldn’t stop the pain in my chest or the tears. I hated tears. Tears were weak. I wasn’t weak. I didn’t want to be weak, but the pain was unbearable.

  “Victoria?” Travis said, gently wiping my tears with his thumb. “He was one of them. He worked with the Durantes, just like others at Craven and Knowles. He’s so fucking entrenched in their shit. I’m not saying he didn’t help you. Hell, he may have even had feelings, but you’re a fucking wealthy woman. There are assholes out there who’ll say and do anything. You weren’t the one to tell him about what happened at the warehouse: he knew what you were doing. He was fucking doing it to you.”

  “How Travis, how? How did he get ill?”

  The bed moved as he shifted. “I don’t know. The only thing I can figure is that he went to the warehouse after we left. I can go check it in the morning and see if anyone has been there. I’ll be able to tell if anyone’s used their code. If he did… if he went to the warehouse, maybe he found the gloves and shit.”

  “And shit? Like the crop and Parker’s fucking come when he jacked off?” If he did, he knew I lied.

  “Victoria,” Travis said. “I didn’t clean up anything. If he went down there and started handling things, hell, even the crop, I don’t know. He could have exposed himself to it.”

  “You said I can’t trust assholes, they’ll do or say anything. You’re an asshole. Can I trust you?”

  A large hand found my face and smoothed back my hair. “Have I ever claimed not to be an asshole?”

  “No,” I replied, relishing the warmth of his hand as well as his honesty.

  “I don’t know if you can trust me, but I can tell you, I’ve always been straight with you.”

  “No, you haven’t.”

  “What?” Travis asked, “When wasn’t I?”

  “In the car, when I accused you of being nice.”

  He leaned closer. “Oh.” His tone dropped an octave. “I wasn’t lying. I’m not nice, and I do want to fuck you.”

  Oh fuck!

  “BUT YOU’RE NOT allowed to touch me,” I whispered. “Ever,” I added, unsure of my own voice.

  “I told you…” Travis’ large hands caressed my arms sending trails of fire and desire straight to my core. “…I’m not honorable.” He lowered his voice: it was the tone I used to find intimidating. “I want to touch you, and I fucking want you to touch me. However, if I’m going to be straight with you, I did lie about one thing.”

  “What?” I asked breathily.

  “I’m not into biting and getting kicked in the balls.”

  A small grin came to my lips.

  “So…” His hands continued roaming the length of my arms.
Finding my hands, his fingers intertwined with mine. “…I want you to see me…” He brought my hand to his lips and sucked the tip of each finger. “…and I want you to want me, as much as I fucking want you.”

  I bit my lower lip. “Travis, I-I don’t know.”

  “I understand.” He moved toward me slowly, pushing me against my pillows. Inhaling deeply, he nuzzled my neck. “You talk about scent,” he whispered, his warm breath on my collarbone. “You said it was the way you could identify people.”

  I nodded.

  “Do you know how you fucking smell?”

  I shook my head.

  “You fucking smell like freedom, like sunshine and wind on the goddamned beach.”

  I looked up at his dark eyes. “I don’t understand.”

  “For years you’ve smelled like a prisoner in a fucking dungeon.” He inhaled again. “Not that you haven’t had all your fancy-assed perfumes and lotions, but that place hung around you like a cloud. It’s gone, all of it. You’re fucking free and I can smell it.”

  I felt my cheeks rise.

  “When you’re ready, if you’re ready—because, Victoria, it’s your choice—I want to taste it.”

  “It?”

  “Your freedom. I know everything. I know things you thought you’d kept hidden from Phillips. This is freedom. When someone knows everything and wants you for you, for your fucking strength, for the way you faced Albini, for the way you screwed Craven, for everything you are and despite everything you’ve been through. I want to taste that freedom, to drink it from your sexy as hell lips, from your perfectly round tits, and your fucking inviting pussy.”

  My insides twisted as I listened to his deep voice.

  “That’s what I want. What do you want?” he asked.

  I couldn’t talk. I didn’t know what to say; instead, I lifted my lips toward his.

  “No, Victoria, I want words. I want hands. I want you to be with me one hundred percent. No fucking nodding, or doing as you’re told. Show me the bitch with a brain who’s gotten under my fucking skin like no one else.”

  I held my head still, looked into his dark eyes, and said, “I want you to kiss me. After that, I don’t know.”

  With the light from the rising sun, I saw his lopsided grin. “I’ll take that. I’ll fucking take that. I want more, but I’ll take that.”

  With one large hand on my cheek, our lips met and the fire I questioned roared to life. The twisting I’d felt earlier turned painful as moans came from somewhere deep inside of me. Inch by inch he pushed closer, his massive chest covering mine, smashing my suddenly sensitive breasts. Slowly my hands moved up his shoulders, touching what I’d never imagined feeling. He was so big, so much bigger than anyone I’d ever known: tall, muscular, and strong. My body dwarfed beneath his. With each passing second I longed to touch the skin below his shirt.

  “Travis?”

  “Yes?”

  “Will you take off your shirt?”

  “Fuck yeah,” he said, and his shirt flew over his head.

  The chest I’d admired from afar was directly in front of me, solid and perfect. I traced the defined muscles with the tips of my fingers as a masculine-scented cologne, one that was neither heavy nor ghostly familiar, filled the suite. When I realized I was ogling, I bit my lip and bashfully raised my gray eyes to his. “I’ve never seen you. You’ve seen me, but I’ve never seen you.”

  His lopsided grin morphed into a full smile. “Do you like what you see as much as I do?”

  “I do.”

  “So do I.” He leaned back and scanned my body from my waist to my eyes. “I’ve never seen you like this.”

  I raised a brow.

  His tone was velvet. “Oh, you’ve always been fucking hot, but this is different. This is you, all you.” He teased the neckline of my blouse. “I want to see more, more of you. Will you let me see more? Just me, no one else?”

  I nodded, knowing that once I removed my blouse, he’d see my hard nipples. He’d know what his words were doing to me.

  “No, Victoria. Remember, no more nodding.”

  “I remember,” I said, as I lifted my blouse from over my head.

  “I tasted those luscious lips. Now I want to taste your perfect tits.”

  I reached up and cupped his cheeks. “You’re fucking killing me. I’m using my words. I want you to taste me, and I want to taste you. Now shut the fuck up and do it.”

  His smile grew before my eyes, radiating from his whole expression: from his firm lips to his dark, gleaming eyes. “There’s my bossy bitch,” he quipped before his lips seized one nipple and then the other.

  I threw my head backward as my spine arched and goose bumps appeared. Whimpers came from my lips as my insides clenched. After nibbling each pebbled nipple, Travis’s large hands caressed each breast while his thumb massaged, the combination created an excruciating need deep inside. Each time he sucked or tweaked my hardened nubs, electricity surged through me, straight to my core. Without getting near my sex, his words and actions made my panties wet as I unconsciously rolled my hips, silently begging for more.

  When I thought I couldn’t take it anymore, he found the waistband of the only remaining obstacle. Reverently, he pulled my panties down over my hips and down my legs, moving down my body as he did. “You smell so fucking good.” He looked up, his gaze settling on mine. “This is your last chance, Mrs. Harrington. If you don’t tell me to stop now, I’m not stopping until I’m satisfied.” His warm breath teased my inner thigh. “And I’ve fucking wanted this for ten years. I’m not rushing.”

  He wasn’t rushing, nor was he the man from long ago in the warehouse. This monster of a man between my thighs was worshipping every inch and taking an agonizing amount of time to lavish me with reverent attention. I wove my fingers through his fine, dark hair. “My fucking name is Victoria! And I don’t want you to fucking rush. What I want is for you to take me slow and hard. Make me come and do it again.”

  His lips quirked. “Bossy!”

  “Oh God!” I moaned as one and then two fingers plunged deep inside of me.

  “You’re so wet, so ready.” In and out his fingers plunged. He lifted my hips, creating a rhythm that sent my body into spasms. “Oh fuck!” My mountain was right there, both literally and figuratively. I had never realized that Travis was my mountain, my high.

  Kissing the inside of my thighs, his fingers disappeared. I watched as he sat up, his eyes never leaving mine as he removed his gym shorts and revealed his giant cock. “Fucking hard?” he asked, as he stroked himself. “You want it hard? I’ve got it hard.”

  Holy shit! He did! I reached out to touch it.

  “Not yet, Victoria, not yet. I still have pussy to eat. Remember, I’m taking this slow.”

  Oh my God!

  I laid my head back and spread my legs wider. “I remember,” I uttered through labored breaths as his tongue found my now swollen lips and lapped my wetness. When I reached for the soft sheets, he sucked my clit. The room around us dimmed as nothing mattered but his actions. Each tug on my hypersensitive bundle of nerves pulled me higher and higher. I was in a dark tunnel, a vacuum, and only Travis could pull me out, toward the light and toward my figurative mountain’s peak.

  When he added his fingers to my delectable torture, he brought me suddenly to the top. The edge was right there. “Fuck, Travis… Oh my God!” I was incapable of complete sentences as my hips bucked against his strong grip. He continued to suck as my legs became rigid, a vise around his head. I no longer controlled my body or my words. They were coming from my lips, but I couldn’t process them as I heard myself beg. I begged for him to stop, and begged for him to never stop. It wasn’t until all my strength dissolved and I floated back to earth that the room finally reappeared.

  When it did, Travis was above me, looking down into my eyes. “You’re fucking gorgeous when that’s real. Fucking gorgeous. I want to see that again.”

  Again? I don’t fucking think I can do that again.


  Before I could articulate words, he was on top of me, spreading my legs and coaxing my entrance with his cock. A whimper left my lips as he teased my clit and moved only the head of his massive penis inside of me. “Please…” I begged again.

  “Please what? I love hearing your voice, your words.”

  “Please fuck me. I want your cock inside of me.”

  I gasped as he did exactly what I asked. My hands reached for his shoulders as he thrust deep inside. With all my strength I clung to him, the man who’d been with me through it all. Harder and harder he plunged, hitting that spot, the one that pushed me back up my mountain. Fuck! He hit every spot. I couldn’t remember feeling so full. As the wonderful scent of masculine musk filled my suite, he pounded me against the mattress, deeper and deeper until I didn’t think I could take anymore.

  “So fucking good!” he growled as our bodies fell into a rhythm: in and out, in and out, each thrust brushing my clit and filling my core. The mountain grew and grew. I wrapped my legs around him. He grabbed my ass and pulled me closer. The ledge appeared out of nowhere. When his fingers dug into my skin, I let go, and screamed. Lights flashed and my body convulsed. I was there but not there. I was lost as wave after wave of heated contractions rippled through me.

  “Oh my fucking God!” Travis yelled with one final thrust that tore me to the core. We landed in a bundle of sheets, his cock throbbing inside me.

  When our breathing quieted, I asked with a grin, “Travis?”

  “Yes?” His nose nuzzled mine.

  “I’ve changed my mind.”

  “You have? About what.”

  I reached up and ran my hand over his cheek. “You can touch me.”

  “Fucking A.” He ran his hand down my side, finding my hand, and intertwined our fingers. Bringing them to his lips, he showered each one with kisses. “I’m glad I have your permission, because after this, I don’t think I could stop.”

  “Don’t. Don’t fucking stop.”

  EVERY NOW AND then, when I reached into my jewelry box, my fingers would brush the old paper napkin that still surrounded the small vials. I knew there was no reason to keep them; most of the Cytoxan was gone. Nonetheless, the tightly wrapped vials that I’d taken from the Harrington Clinic Distribution Center a lifetime ago remained. Travis and I both knew they were there, and we knew that there was no immediate threat or reason to keep them. Yet, for some reason they remained.

 

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