Page 50 of Faking Ties

It’s too cramped for her to bend over, so I sink to my knees and place my phone on the ground. She holds on to my hair as I lift a foot onto my knee. Once I unbuckle the strap, Stella sucks in a hurt breath. Her toes are bleeding and full of blisters, all at different stages of healing. What the fuck have her feet been through lately? But it’s the blood, the blood caused from running, that sends rage pulsing through me. I want to hunt down those fuckers and make every single last one of them pay.

When she whimpers, I kiss her ankle. “I’ll make sure those bastards serve jail time for what they’ve done to you.”

“I never want to see them again.” She squeezes her eyes shut, her breaths coming in short pants. “But I fear they’ll be in my nightmares.”

Her body shakes, and she gasps for breath. Standing, I pull her into a hug. “Shh, you’re safe. I’ve got you.”

“But we’re not safe.” Her breaths come faster andfaster. “We’re trapped in a closet that’s too small and we’re going to run out of air and die here.”

“I’ll give you every last drop of air in my lungs before that happens.”

“Don’t be cute,” she snaps. “Not when I’m about to have a panic attack.”

“How can I help?” My hands hover over her. I have no idea what to do. I’ve never experienced a panic attack before and honestly have never cared enough to help someone else if they were having one. That is, until now. Until Stella.

“Distract me.” She grabs my hands and places them on her tits. “Please? Make me feel like we’re in the club and not here.” She squeezes her eyes shut and whispers, “Anywhere but here.”

Desperate to help her, to make her feel better, I spin her around so that her back is facing my front. She’s got to get out of her head and stop thinking about the assholes chasing us. I hum the last song from the club, and grind into her. She remains stiff and frozen for a good minute before she slowly, oh so slowly, responds to me.

“I think I’ve found the first thing you can’t do,” she says, spinning to face me, her arms looping around my neck and playing with the hair at my nape.

“What’s that?”

“Sing.”

“Don’t be a brat.” I slap her ass. “You’re more than welcome to take over for me.”

She grins and something loosens in my heart at the sight. That I can help her through her shit by just being me. That I’m enough for her just as I am. I’ve never had anyone call me out like she does while also accepting me as I am. It’s addictive.

She hums softly a different song, one of her own, and I nuzzle her neck. Licking and nipping at her silky skin, before forging a path down across her collarbones. Between her breasts. She pushes her chest into my mouth, and I grin.

“You want me to play with you here?” I ask, running my palm over the top that’s been tempting me all night.

“Yes,” she whimpers. “Make me forget.”

“Keep humming.” I slide my finger around the edges of the stretchy fabric of her top and inch by inch work it down until her perfectly puffy, pink nipples appear. “Fucking hell, of course you have the most perfect tits I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“There’s no need to lie,” she huffs.

I bite her nipple, hard enough to get her attention. She startles and I say, “If you ever call me a liar again, you’ll be punished.”

“What kind of punishment are we talking?” she asks. “One I’ll like? Because if so, that’s definitely not a deterrent and you’re now just encouraging me to misbehave. I think I might like being spanked and… Why haven’t you interrupted me yet?” She covers her eyes with her hand. “I need to be interrupted before I say more embarrassing things.”

“I quite like what you’re saying.” I grin, and lap at her nipple. “Tell me what else you haven’t done.”

She shakes her head.

“Tell me,” I demand.

She sighs and looks to the ceiling. “Not a lot. My other partners weren’t adventurous.”

“Can I touch you here.” I point to her skirt, and she nods.

I sink to my knees and lift her skirt. Her black, lacey thong barely covers her. I trail my fingers around the outside of it, from the waistband down to her clit, and back up before dipping my finger between her ass cheeks. She jumps and I can’t help but smile. “Let me guess,” I say, “those other men also didn’t touch you here.”

“Correct, but when was the last time you washed your hands? I’m thinking a long time and that means they’re dirty and you can’t touch me now either.”

“Is that a challenge?” I laugh, pulling off her thong and pocketing it. “To make you come without using my fingers?”

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