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Suit
  • Текст добавлен: 14 сентября 2016, 23:16

Текст книги "Suit"


Автор книги: Jettie Woodruff



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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

Chapter Six

 

 

I had my leg propped on the chair in front of me, the magnificent ocean as my view. I hadn’t even realized I had dozed off until I heard the girls inside.

“No, Rowan. I had it first. Tell her I had it first, Tricia,” Ophelia wailed in a loud, shrill voice. I yawned and sat up while catching my bearings.

“Noooo! Mom! Mom!” Rowan screamed in an even louder, high-pitched screech.

Wait. That’s me. I’m the mom. I stood to go help out with the argument when I heard another voice.

“Hey, guys. Come on. It’s a ruler. Can’t you find something better to fight over? One of you go see if your mom’s in her room.”

“I’m right here,” I announced from the glass door. I stared at the female stranger with absolutely no recollection at all. She was pretty. High maintenance for sure. She wore red stilettos with black shorts and a white cami. Her nails, hair, and makeup looked like she’d just stepped off the cover of Vogue.

“Oh, my God. Gabriella! You look like hell. Are you okay? I would have come and seen you, but Paxton said you didn’t want to see anyone. Do you really not remember? You don’t remember me?”

My eyebrows arched, waiting for her to finish.

“Mom, tell Ophelia I had it first.”

“I did have it first,” Ophelia whined with big tears swelling in her charcoal-gray eyes. My eyes. I smiled at my neighbor as I lifted a finger, requesting a hold please. Ophelia sat on the floor, hiding the plastic ruler behind her back, trying like hell to keep her sister from snatching it from her hands.

I sort of fell into the couch. I’d done okay until that last inch or so. The pain that shot down my leg did me in. “Can I please see the ruler?” I asked with an open hand. Ophelia sniffed and wiped tears down her face with her fingers, debating on whether or not this was a trick before handing it over.

“What do you want to use this for?” I questioned, sure that it was simply an argument over the object and not the purpose at all.

“It’s for to draw a line not crooked and measure stuff,” she explained in the cutest little voice ever. I sucked in on my bottom lip to keep from smiling as I felt my heart melt. Ophelia sat on her hands and rocked back and forth on her butt with big eyes and a pouty bottom lip.

“But what are you going to do with it?”

“I just. I just. I just gonna hold it in my hand,” she replied while struggling for the right answer. Weary across her face, she had the same two little lines on her forehead when she worried, just like Paxton.

“I want to draw a straight line,” Rowan said. Her counteroffer trumped Ophelia’s silly one, replacing it with her more logical answer.

“I’m drawing a straight line!” Ophelia screamed again, this time in a full-blown tantrum. Her body flopped to the floor like she was possessed. Demons taking over her little body.

I guess I sort of froze. I didn’t know what to do with her. What to say to calm the scream. My neighbor Tricia came to the rescue when all I did was watch, too terrified to move. She lifted Ophelia from the floor, plopping her to her bare feet with a thump. We exchanged a glance and she continued. I think she wanted to see if I was about to protest her correcting my child, or not. I didn’t.

“How about you go wash your hands for lunch. You have to tell your mom about your mask you made. Remember?”

“I-I-I-I made a mask. It gots a lot sprinkles and jewels.”

“Mine has a feather,” Rowan smartly said, daggers shooting through her little sister while they fought for the attention. Geesh.

Tricia kept them talking about their new creations, ushering them toward their bathroom to wash up for lunch.

“I ordered Chinese. It should be here any minute,” she said once she had the girls calmed down.

“Oh, okay.” Did I like Chinese? For some reason, I didn’t think I did.

“This is so weird. You really don’t know who I am, do you?”

I snorted with a heavy sigh, and then a smile. “Not a clue.”

Tricia sat on the sofa and shook her head with wide eyes when the girls started again from the bathroom. This time over the soap. “They both need naps. I can’t imagine what that is like. You don’t remember anything?”

“Nothing. I’ve had a couple of permissions, but they don’t make sense. Do you know if I had a sister?”

“I don’t think so. You’ve never mentioned any family at all. I asked you about your parents once, but you were very vague. You said you hadn’t seen your mother in over ten years. I didn’t know what that meant. You didn’t want to talk about it.”

Rowan and Ophelia interrupted. At least they weren’t fighting. They were doing some sort of dance move, turning in a circle twice, and then kicking with their right legs. A-freaking-dorable!

Tricia took care of the food, setting it up outside. I was right. I hated Chinese. All but the vegetable lo mein, and I didn’t love that. It was just okay.

“Tricia, am I a vegetarian?” I questioned. I felt like I was. It had nothing to do with chicken or Chinese. It was the meat. I didn’t like meat.

Tricia shrugged her shoulders. “You weren’t before you wrecked. You always ate burgers and hot dogs.”

“I did? Where?”

“Here, my house, Shayla’s house, Candace’s, when we go out. You ate it before.”

“So we’re friends? We do stuff together?”

Tricia smiled a crooked smile and angled her head. “Yeah, we do. Of course we’re friends.”

I smiled and bit into a green pepper. I was glad I had friends, even if they were fake friends. Anything was better than knowing all I had was Paxton.

“Don’t listen to a word she says. She’s a liar,” a voice assured me from behind. I turned enough to see a very attractive girl walking toward me from the side of the house. Blond hair, legs that went on for miles, and boobs. Wow. Those were unquestionably fake. “Oh, my God, Gabriella. You look awful. You poor girl. Your beautiful face,” she dramatically said as her hand brushed down my hair. I didn’t know her either. Not a clue.

“You really don’t remember me?”

I smiled and hunkered my shoulders. “Sorry.”

“Oh, my God. What’s that like?”

“Jesus, Shay, give her some space,” Tricia said. Shay made herself at home and her kid jumped in my pool. A boy around ten. It was the strangest thing ever. I had no idea how to be me around these girls. How to be normal.

“I’m getting in the pool, too,” Ophelia decided as she slid from her chair. I just watched her go. I didn’t know what to say.

“You should probably make her take a nap first,” Tricia said with a nod toward Ophelia.

I looked to Ophelia and back to Tricia. “How do I do that?”

“Wow,” Shayla said while the word dragged on and on. I was a freak show.

“I’ll take care of it today. Shay get your kid out of her pool so the girls will lay down.”

“I want to visit. I have a million questions for Gabriella.”

“Gabriella will answer your questions later,” the deep voice said. Paxton stepped out the door and scooped up Ophelia.

“I’m going to go swimming with Collin, Daddy,” she whined through a yawn. Paxton kissed her little cheek and rubbed her belly. He moved behind me and kissed the top of my head. “You can go swimming later with me and mommy. You need a nap first.”

“I’m not tired.”

“You can just rest for a little bit. You okay, Gabriella? It’s time for more pain medicine if you’d like.”

“I think I will,” I replied. I wasn’t really in pain. Maybe my right hip a little from sitting. It was more of a needing my mind to rest. Step back for a minute and take this all in. It was a lot.

“I’ve got to go pick up Phoenix. I’ll call you later. Oh, wait. Did your phone survive the wreck?” Tricia asked while coming to her feet. My eyes shifted back to Paxton for the answer. I didn’t know.

“She has it. It’s in your purse,” Paxton explained with a hand on my shoulder

Shayla yelled at her kid, telling him to go get in his own pool. Collin dove in one more time. Cannonball right off the edge. Rowan instantly yelled at him, gasping from the cool water splashed all over her.

“Collin! This is my new dress,” she complained in a loud shrill voice.

“Oh, you’re fine. Come on. Let’s go rest for a little bit.”

“I’m not tired,” Ophelia too, whined. She knew from experience she was next on the nap list.

Paxton took her hand anyway, still carrying her little sister.

“I want, mommy to come, too,” Rowan cried with open hands reaching toward me. My heart swelled with love and I lifted myself from my chair, using the table ledge to help pull myself up.

Paxton slid Ophelia down his body and to her feet to take my hand. We stood hand in hand, talking to the neighbors I didn’t know. I heard about the therapy I would be doing for the first time when Paxton explained it to my neighbors. He and Tricia talked about the schedule for the girls for the next few days, and I stood. Holding his hand, and feigning love while he did the talking for me. I had a feeling that happened a lot with him. It didn’t even matter. I couldn’t have explained any of that. My girls were busy. Gymnastics, Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Art camp every afternoon at two. Piano lessons Wednesday morning. Play school every Friday. Tee-ball Saturday mornings, and youth golf Saturday afternoon. Jesus. I would never keep up with all that. Youth golf? What the hell was that? Art camp?

My neighbors wished me well, and Tricia assured me she had everything under control. Not to worry about anything except getting better. I thanked her for lunch, and all her help.

As soon as our friends were out of sight, Paxton let go of my hand. Aahh, so it was that way, huh? The only display of affection between us was in public. Fake.

“Go to your room. I’ll bring your pain pills,” he quietly ordered while he led the girls inside and left me to fend for myself. Asshole.

I could hear the girls, whining, requesting their mommy lay them down. Paxton reminded them that I was hurt and they moved along. I didn’t do anything. I didn’t even go to them. Paxton took care of them. I was so lost. So far out of touch. There are no words to describe it. It was like I knew I didn’t belong with Paxton Pierce, but I belonged with those girls.

My eyes met Paxton’s as I passed the bathroom. He was leaned against the sink, swiping his finger over his phone. Rowan and Ophelia were too busy arguing over the soap again to notice. His gaze rose without lifting his head. Our eyes locked for a second and I continued on without a spoken word.

Once I had gone to the bathroom myself, I pulled the curtain closed and laid down. A heavy sigh filled the room with anxiety. I had already figured out that Paxton was far from nocturnal. I was pretty sure Paxton got what he wanted day or night.

Prolonged exposure to the sun and the madness going on around me enervated me. I was emotionally drained. That changed when Paxton joined me, water and pill in hand.

“Who is this, Gabriella?” he questioned with a phone held toward me.

I looked up confused. It was a door handle inside a car, and something brown with a thick texture. A wallet or a purse maybe. A barely visible arm was just above the door and that was it. How the hell was I supposed to know?

“You want me to guess what that is?”

Paxton took the glass of water from my hand and sat it on the stand. “I want you to tell me who was with you. This is your car. Who is this? This was taken fifteen minutes after you left here.”

“Maybe it was one of our neighbors. Shayla or Trisha.”

“No. It’s not. I’ve asked them all. None of them know. You don’t know anyone else. You don’t talk to anyone outside this development. Who the fuck is this, Gabriella? Something’s not right here. I know you. This isn’t like you, but I’m going to figure it out. I’m going to figure out where you were going, who was with you, and why.”

“That’s great, Pax. Maybe you can share that info with me after you’re done playing detective.”

Paxton didn’t say a word. His eyes bore deep into mine with more than a hint of anger. I didn’t even correct myself. That was stupid. Why couldn’t I call him Pax? What was the big deal?

“See? That’s what I mean, Gabriella,” he quietly said as a finger slid down my leg and cold eyes held my stare. “You never called me Pax. You wouldn’t dare call me anything but Paxton. You keep doing it. Either you’ve got brass balls, or you like what I do to you. I bet your pussy is already wet. Is it, Gabriella? Hmmm? Is your pussy throbbing?”

I didn’t answer. There were too many crazy things going on in my body. My heart beat so loud I could hear it in my ears, adrenaline flooded my veins, and my vagina betrayed me. A urgency formed between my legs. At first it was just a faint pulsating here or there. It was when he started sliding my shorts over my hips that it sped up. Quicker, harder thumps.

“You have no idea how much I want to bend you over my knee right now. I promise you one thing. Once I get the go ahead from your doctor, you’re going to get the spanking of your life. I’ll make sure you don’t forget it,” Paxton threatened.

I didn’t speak. I anticipated a spanking with an overzealous tremble between my legs. That’s it. I was a glorified whore and I liked it. Jesus. My hips rolled from one side to the other, helping Paxton with my panties.

He peeled the front back first. The cool draft brushed past my lips while I waited for him to remove the thong. Paxton carefully lifted my leg and pulled the string from my ass. He did it a couple more times before, sliding them from my ankles. Next was my shirt. He slid it up and latched on to my left nipple with a twist. A sharp pain went from there to my throbbing sex. Instantly. There was no doubt in my mind I was wet. Jesus. Something was seriously wrong with me.

Once Paxton helped me out of all my clothes, he strode over to the locked armoire, pulling his shirt over his head. I arched my eyebrows while taking in his physique. Jeans hung low on his hips. A gray band peered from his slender waist, exposing a tan line.

To be honest, it seemed a bit anticlimactic. I expected something grand. I don’t know what, but something more than a bottle of lube. I didn’t even need that. I was plenty wet.

“Aahh,” I moaned when Paxton massaged a squirt from his fingers into my throbbing nub. The scent of mint caught my nose before that spot between my legs tingled. Holy shit! It wasn’t a simple bottle of KY after all. It tingled immediately with a thrilling prickling of heat, over and over in the same area.

Paxton stopped after the moan. Evidently, I wasn’t allowed to moan either. His stern glare and halting of his fingers assured me that I wasn’t. I wasn’t allowed to writhe my hips into his fingers, either. He did the same thing when I did that. I was to lay there and endure it without movement. Without sound. Seriously?

Between the firm pressure of Paxton’s three fingers circling my clit, and the tingling sensation from the bottle, I was ready to explode. With two fingers, he held me open and watched as I melted beneath his touch. The next moan came with my eyes rolling back in my head, my back arching, and the feeling of being on top. Right there. Ready to topple over.

I felt one tremor. One. That’s it. Paxton stopped. He did this thing with the palm of his hand where he laid it flat on my aching nub. Another finger went inside me and he didn’t move. He kept as still as me. One eye opened when I realized that was it. This was my punishment. Paxton made it a game. A game of torment.

“You’re so wet,” he rasped with his gaze between my legs. His finger moved in and out a couple of times, but it wasn’t enough. I could still feel the pulsing sensation below his flat palm, but that wasn’t enough, either. His thumb brushed over the pucker in my ass, but still, it wasn’t even enough. Nothing was enough. Paxton wasn’t about to let it be enough.

My eyes watched him free the hardness behind his jeans with one hand while the other slid up and down my slit. Arousal massaged from front to back.

My breath caught in my lungs as I watched him stroke himself, moving between my legs. He was careful not to disturb my sore body, and his weight stayed upright. He got on his knees. The head of his cock slid up and down, taking the place of his fingers. Paxton moaned and hissed, and I waited with anticipation. Like a hungry animal, I waited for him to slide inside me.

But he didn’t.

He moved to my mouth.

“Stick—”

I cut off his words and his pending request when I licked his pre-come mixed with my arousal without being told. And then I took him to the back of my throat, sucking as hard as I could. I didn’t even know where it came from. I was just that turned on.

Paxton let me suck him off for less than a minute. He didn’t like me being in control. He needed that. After a manly grunt, he pulled out of my mouth.

His tight penis slapped my opened lips. “Stop,” he ordered through a whisper. My neck and shoulder muscles relaxed back into my pillow and waited for him. Paxton moved back to my overactive sex and slid his cock up and down my slit. The head of his rod dragged through my slit and pushed in, teasing my entrance. My hips thrust toward him, inviting him in. No. Begging him to come in. He didn’t. He moved back to my mouth, making it worse. This wasn’t funny anymore. The taste of sex was euphoric, and I came close to losing it. Orgasm suddenly became the only thing on my mind. The only thing I wanted. The only thing I cared about.

“That’s it, baby. Hmmm, yeah,” Paxton moaned while his dick slid to the back of my throat. He did the whole sliding it between my slit and back to my mouth a couple more times before I could tell he was ready. Even with my second remembered blowjob, I could tell when he was ready. His hips moved at a rapid pace, his defined chest glistened with sweat, and he held my head to keep me from moving away. That’s when Paxton was ready.

“Oh, fuck, baby. Hmmm, open your mouth for me,” he moaned with his hand pumping his cock above me. I didn’t even protest this time. I wanted him. All of him. It had to be the brain injury. This wasn’t right. This should have repulsed me. It didn’t. Not at all. I loved it. The first bout of come spread around my lips in one quick swipe. The rest slid down my tongue and to the back of my throat. Paxton’s breathing slowed while his cock moved in and out of my mouth, losing its stamina with every stroke.

And just like that, Paxton was finished with me. He put himself away and walked over to the cabinet, armed with the peppermint lotion, ready to put it away. Damn.

Paxton didn’t put it away until he squirted a good amount on the tips of his fingers. He carried the same chastity belt and a handful of torture back to me.

Oh, hell no!

“You think this is bothering me? You think you can break me down by not letting me come? That’s absurd. You’re not hurting me one bit.”

Paxton didn’t speak. He wore a grin, ignoring my banter. The banter I needed to hear more than him. My legs moved out when he massaged the tingling oil into my clit once more. It hadn’t even stopped completely from the last time. I was to the brink of begging. It’s all I thought about. Maybe I could get enough friction from the chastity belt for relief.

I don’t know what got into me. I opened myself to him like a crazed animal. I didn’t want him to stop touching me. I wanted him to play with me. The room became sort of an illusion. Everything was an illusion. Everything but my tortured sex and my emotions.

Paxton positioned the diaper-like contraption and pulled the thin chain, securing it in the crack of my ass. I moaned when I felt the cold touch my anus, and thrust toward him again.

“This isn’t bothering you, is it?” he questioned with a snort. He touched me a couple more times, sliding his fingers in and out of me, paying special attention to my aching nub, and running a thumb to the back, touching every sensitive part of my body. Our eyes locked while he worked magic, pulling an instant orgasm from my body.

Almost.

Goddammit!

The front was put into place and locked. It wasn’t that tight. I was sure my fingers could slide through the top. There was no way in hell I would make it. I would die first. I needed to come. Now!

Paxton kissed my lips hard, forcing his tongue around my mouth. “Sleep tight, love.”

I waited until the door closed before trying it. My fingers fit fine. That wasn’t the problem. The stupid thing was designed with a cup to keep intruders from touching anything important. Anything throbbing like mad. Including me.

I hated him. I hated Paxton Pierce, and for the life of me, I didn’t know what would possess me to marry someone like him. He was evil. I didn’t sleep. I didn’t even rest. I endured the tingling sensations, all around my clitoris, and danced my hips, trying like hell to get a little friction. I couldn’t, no matter which way I moved. Nothing could touch me there. Not even me. Fucker.

The phone left on my stand occupied my mind some. I read all my text messages, trying to remember something. Most of them were from Paxton. Ninety-five percent of them. A couple were from Candace, talking about a show on television, and a link for something. I clicked on it, but it wouldn’t work.

By the time everything had relaxed enough for my mind and body to settle, I could hear the girls. I thought it was the girls, anyway. Were they up from their naps already? What time was it? I shifted between sleep and consciousness a couple times before handing it over to a comatose slumber.

~~

“Watch your step. Stay right behind Izabella.”

“I’m scared. I don’t want to go higher,” Izzy said from above me. We were high. Really high.

“I’m right behind you. You’re not going to fall. We’re almost there,” my mom coaxed. I didn’t want to go higher, either. Even at six, I knew this wasn’t safe. What kind of mother lets her little girls climb billboards along the highway? My mother. That’s who. Billboards located just over airport runways. I didn’t know what state it was in, but it was big. Huge planes, flying in an out.

It wasn’t until we made it to the top that we felt the magnitude of that. The ledge spread at least four feet wide, and the fear of falling depleted with the view. My mother dropped the backpack from her shoulders and sat against the giant ad behind us. Gas and lodging, next right. She pulled the thin blanket from the bag and snuggled us to her. One twin on each side. Izzy wore the same red tank top as me, and matching white shorts plastered with red strawberries. We all slid out of our shoes and waited for the next takeoff.

“So many people. All going to different places. Where do you think they’re going, Clydes?” my mom questioned in a faraway tone as she removed the bread and then the peanut butter. Again. It would be our breakfast, as well. Maybe with honey if we had any left.

“Maybe to Maine. I want to go to Maine,” I announced.

“I want to go to Maine with Gabby, and then on a train. Some people sleep on trains.”

My mom handed me my sandwich with a peculiar look. “What’s in Maine?”

I bit into the sandwich and replied around the food in my mouth. “I’ll show you,” I mumbled with a full mouth, retrieving the folded paper from my back pocket. I’d torn it out of a magazine when we had to wait for a man to fix our car at the garage. That’s why we had to eat peanut butter again. My mom said we had to use all the money for a new starter.

Mom took the crookedly folded paper and opened it. “Acadia National Park?”

“Uh-huh. Look. It has boulders, and me and Izzy can climb on them.”

“One of the highest tides in the United States,” she read.

“Yeah, turn it over. See the tide is all the way to the rocks now,” I explained with a little finger to the same rocks.

“Okay, let’s go to Maine. Here, you write it down, Izzy.”

“No. I get to write it because Izzy wants to see a train. She can write that,” I complained.

“Oh, right. Smart thinking,” she agreed with a smile. Her finger tapped her temple playfully. She leaned back and bit into her own sandwich, handing Izzy the shared bottle of water. I wrote my idea in our blue notebook and handed it off to Izzy.

“Whoa!” Izzy suddenly exclaimed as the noise got louder and louder. The plane was close enough to read the lettering. It shot up over us as fast as lightning. I always thought airplanes flew in slow motion. They always looked like they were barely moving in the sky. Until that night, anyway. Airplanes were fast. Lightning fast.

“Wish them well,” my mom called while waving her arm. “Goodbye, have fun, safe travels.”

Izzy and I did the same thing, yelling goodbye while sandwiches waved in the air. We were so close. The gigantic plane rose just above our heads until it was off, leaving us with a gust of wind and awe. A moment in time I would never forget.

I never felt safer in my life. Fifty feet from the ground. I was safe. My mom talked and talked about where we were going next in between takeoffs and landings. Izzy and I took turns telling jokes that made no sense, we sang songs, counted stars, and listened to my mother talk about things I didn’t understand. The universe, and our frequencies. How we had to always be happy. Be kind to everyone we meet, and listen to our first instincts.

Normal little girls were being taught to do chores and responsibilities by six. Izzy and I were taught that the answers came from within. Not a textbook. Not a teacher. Not a doctor. The answers always came from within. Izzy and I always agreed. Both lying that we understood. We didn’t. Neither one of us. It was almost like she was prepping us. Like she knew. She wanted us to be happy, not spoiled. She hated stuff, and because she hated it, we never had it.

Not even a house.

“Listen to that tiny voice. The first instinct. It’s always right, girls. You hear me?” my mom rambled in a serious tone while she squeezed both our hands. She preached the stars to us a lot while staring out into space. We spent the entire evening on top of the world, listening to crazy talk from our happy mother, and watching planes.

Once darkness took over our surroundings, a whole other magical phenomenon fell upon us. The clear night with twinkling stars and brightly lit airplanes took on a complete new dimension of mystic.

When Izzy and I got tired, we laid our heads on our mother’s lap. One on each leg. We did this a lot. Fell asleep like this, all over the United States. Izzy and I fell asleep with our mother’s hand stroking our hair. She stared up at the sky for hours, eventually laying down with us. The noise didn’t even bother us. With our mother between us and our hands touching each other’s, Izzy and I dozed off to a happy, peaceful sleep. Roaring planes, soaring above our heads.

 


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