Author: Cheryl McIntyre

I don’t move as he stands. His dick is hard, pressing against the seam of his jeans. Part of me wants to fall to the floor and take his cock into my mouth. Do for him what he tried to do for me. The other part of me is shaking, confused as to what’s happened here tonight.

“What do you want Rocky?”

I shake my head, puzzled by the question. “I don’t know. I want to forget. I want to feel safe. I want to be normal.”

“I can help you forget when you need to. I can help you feel safe. But I can’t change what happened to you.”

“I didn’t ask you to,” I state defensively.

“I know.” He bends, plucking my panties from the floor. He holds them out to me and when I don’t take them, he captures my gaze before he kneels in front of me once again. All I have to do is step into them, but I still don’t move.

His gaze rakes down my body. His tongue sweeps across his bottom lip and he inhales. His eyes close and breathes in again.

“I need to forget. Make me forget,” I murmur.

I feel his eyelashes brush my leg. Goosebumps burst along my skin. He nuzzles his nose against the apex of my thigh. I spread my legs, inviting him closer. I don’t stop him when he touches me, grazing his finger over my clit.

I moan, arching into his hand.

I want more.

My fingers splay across his shoulders, guiding him forward until his mouth is finally on me again. Link uses languid strokes, working me up soft and slow. He pushes his middle finger inside of me and I cry out. It’s been so long since I’ve felt this. Since I wanted this. I push back, grinding against him. He makes an appreciative noise, adding more pressure. He begins to suck on my clit, his tongue flicking out and pulsing in time with his finger. I slide my palms under his collar, caressing his back. My fingertips graze the puckered skin there. Line after line of raised, scarred skin.

I wonder what happened to him to cause these marks. Does he hurt himself? Did somebody hurt him? He increases the pressure of his tongue, causing my thoughts to slip away. I glide my hands up his neck and lock my fingers around the back of his head. And then I thrust into him.

The real thing is so much hotter than the fantasy.

I come hard, my orgasm ripping through me.

Link doesn’t stop. He doesn’t stop because I don’t ask him to. He doubles his efforts, lapping and sucking. He grabs my ankle, lifting it over his shoulder, and spreading me wide. Another finger joins the one plunging inside of me.

I claw at his head. I drive my pussy into his mouth. I scream his name through gritted teeth as I climax a second time. It’s more intense than the first and I don’t know if I can take much more, but I don’t ever want to stop.

I drop to the floor, surprising Link. His mouth is wet with my arousal. I want to know what I taste like on his lips. I lean in, pressing my open mouth to his. I haven’t shared a kiss with anyone in years. For one sweet moment, his tongue meets mine, mimicking the way he just ravaged me.

And then he jerks away, his eyes wide. He wipes at his mouth as if trying to wipe away my kiss. He pushes to his feet and takes several steps away from me, his chest rising and falling quickly.

I’m still kneeling on the floor, coming down off my orgasmic high.

“Get dressed,” he rasps. “I’ll take you home.”

I glance around, stunned by his abrupt change. He kicks my jeans toward me.

“Hurry up.”

Nine

Link

I don’t know what the fuck just happened.

I want to blame it on Rocky’s reaction to me. But the truth is, I have no idea why I let her kiss me. Or why I kissed her back.

I feel like I betrayed Liv.

And over some girl I barely fucking know.

Other than directing me to her apartment, Rocky doesn’t talk. When I stop in the parking area, she hops out, shutting the door quietly behind her. No goodbye.

I wait until she’s safely inside before I leave. Then I head straight for Lea’s.

I’m furious with myself. I’m furious with Rocky.

I know if I go home right now, Aaron won’t live long enough to give me the names I’ve been desperately seeking. I’ll take out all this rage on him.

The porch light is on, but Lea’s house is dark. I don’t let that stop me. I pound on the screen door hard. I wait, watching as first her bedroom light flips on, followed by the living room light. She pulls the door open and I step inside.

“It’s late, Link.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

She nods, turning toward her bedroom. I kick the door shut and follow.

Lea sweeps her t-shirt over her head. Her breasts bounce with the freeing movement. I step up and pull a nipple into my mouth, sucking hard. She moans, hugging my head to her tit. I lavish each perfect peak and then I grasp her waist, turning her around.

I strip her of her shorts, grazing them down her long legs leisurely. Then I do the same with her panties. I stand up, scraping my body along hers. She’s completely naked now. I like the way her body feels against mine, warming my clothing.

My hands skim her bare ass, my fingers gliding between the cheeks. She pushes back against me, enjoying my touch. I push her forward so she’s lying face first and ass up on the bed.

I kneel behind her and lean in to taste her pussy. I can still taste Rocky on my tongue and I want to erase her flavor. Replace it.

Lea whimpers as I fuck her with my tongue. I get her close and then I stand up, removing my clothes. She watches me over her shoulder. I keep my shirt on, not wanting to see Olivia’s name over my heart. But I drop my pants and boxers and position myself behind her.

I thrust into her fast and hard. She releases a hissed moan, her fingers curling into the sheets.

“Oh, God. Link, you feel so good.”

“So do you,” I say as I begin to move, pumping into her with wild abandon.

I think of how much I wanted Rocky tonight. I close my eyes.

I kissed her.

I can’t believe I fucking kissed her.

And I liked it. How could I like it?

I jerk my hips harder. I’m close. So close. The memory of how she responded to me flares behind my eyelids. Her reaction to me was so much different—so much stronger—than how she reacted to that kid the other night. She wanted me. And I wanted to fuck her. I wanted to take her right there in that bathroom. I wish I were inside of her right now. I wish it was her pussy wrapped around my dick, helping me escape.

I throw my head back as I come inside Lea.

I don’t even know if I got her off. I keep going until she cries out my name and slumps to the bed. I fall beside her, winded.

Lea rolls her head to look at me. “I don’t know what kind of demons are chasing you tonight, but if that didn’t help you outrun them, I don’t know what will.”

“I’m trying to escape myself this time.”

***

“Hey man, you look like shit,” Augie says as soon as I step into the gym. I didn’t go home last night and ended up sleeping for only a couple of hours. I’m still in the same clothes from the night before. I feel like shit, so I’m sure he’s right.

I flip him off, too tired to make a smartass retort. I’m a few feet from my office when I remember Rocky will be in there working.

I pause, not sure I’m ready to see her yet. Whatever the hell is happening between us, it can’t go anywhere. It can’t last.

While I laid next to Lea wide-awake last night, I thought about talking to her. To Rocky. Seeing if she’d be interested in an understanding like I have with Lea. I could help her forget and she could stop picking up strangers in bars. She’d be safe and still get what she’s been looking for with those guys.

The only thing stopping me is that kiss. It’s got me fucked up and pissed off with myself.

But I could tell her. Explain. Take kissing off the table.

I sigh. What the fuck am I doing?

I’ve been contemplating murdering four men. I have one of those men locked in my basement.

The last thing I need is to drag another person into this shit storm.

Ten

Rocky

Link walks into the office, his gaze avoiding mine with determination. I don’t understand this man. He can go down on me, but he can’t look at me? Talk to me?

I watch him rifle through papers on the edge of the desk. I have everything in organized piles. I’m sure I could easily help him, but if he isn’t talking then neither am I.

He sighs. “Do you have the list of who owes?”

I find the manila folder that has each new bill I drew up, along with the full list of names and totals. I hold it out. He takes the opposite corner, refusing to look at me. I don’t release the folder when he pulls on it.

“How did you get the scars on your back?”

His eyes finally meet mine. We’re both still holding the file. The seconds tick by.

“I was stabbed eighteen times with a flaying knife.” He pauses and I release the folder, surprised with his abrupt honesty.

“How? Why?”

Link backs up until his back is leaning into the wall. He stares at me, his fingers gliding up and down smoothly along the seam of the folder. “Do you fish? Hunt?”

I feel my brows draw together in confusion. I shake my head. My dad eats, breathes, and sleeps boxing. Always has. He was never into hunting. We may have fished a few times when I was younger, but it wasn’t a hobby.

“Hunters and fishermen use flaying knives to remove the skin from their kills. It was also a form of torture, popular in medieval times. I’ve always wondered if the man that stabbed me was a hunter, a fisherman, or just got off on torture.”

“Why does he have to be only one of the above?” I ask.

Garrett was a teenaged student, a football player, and a rapist. People are not one sided. We’re more complex than that. I’ve never known someone that was simply one thing. I’m an alcoholic, a victim, a survivor.

Link nods slowly, as if he agrees, but then he says, “I think he was a coward.”

“Anybody who can’t look the person they’re hurting in the face is definitely a coward.”

He nods again. “You say that like someone who knows firsthand.”

“That’s because I do. But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

Those little muscles in his jaw twitch as he peers at me. He taps the file against his leg. “I only know you were assaulted and the guy walked away.”

“Assaulted,” I repeat, rolling the word around on my tongue. It tastes bitter. It’s not a big enough word, but it stings less than the R word. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

“I don’t need to hear your story,” he replies, his voice emotionless.

“Maybe I need to hear yours,” I counter. “Maybe I just need to talk about mine.”

“You want to swap war stories?” He chuckles without humor. “Then what? We bond? Become friends because we both survived a violent attack?” He steps forward, resting his palm on top of the desk. His face is just inches from mine. “Or we could fuck. Is that what you want? For me to take you here on the desk because we both have shitty pasts the other can relate to?”

I want to back away from his close proximity. But I don’t. I hold his gaze steadily. “I don’t fuck. I haven’t fucked anyone since the day I was raped.”

Link’s eyes flick over my face, searching. “You take men into bar bathrooms—”

“I take men into bar bathrooms and use them for oral sex. That’s it. I don’t fuck them. I don’t know their names. I don’t call them.” I take a shaky breath. “I don’t kiss them.”

I watch as Link’s pupils dilate. His eyes flare with heat. “You kissed me.”

It’s a simple statement, but I hear the critical question hidden within. “You’re the first.”