Page 43 of Tortured Whispers
“Hey, Brookie. Friends? Let me get your number so I can text you. We can hang out.” She grinned at me and held out her hand again. I looked at it still mesmerized.
Did she say she wanted to be friends?
All I ever fucking wanted were friends. I nodded my head and shook her hand. I was immediately self-conscious of my long sleeves and thumb holes. What if she felt that the bottom of my sleeve was damp? She’d think I was gross. I should have given her my other hand.
So fucking stupid, Brooklyn.
I reached in my pocket and grabbed my phone. It nearly slipped between my fingers because my hands were slick with worry. With shaky fingers, I put Ashley’s number in my phone.
Hers was only the fourth phone number in my contacts. I put my phone to sleep quickly and shoved it back in my pocket, avoiding Ashley’s gaze. “Cool, I’ll text you later, okay?” She smiled again and it was so bright and cheery.
“O-Okay,” I stammered. “Bye.” My feet steered me toward my car and once I was inside, I let out a rush of air. The silence all around me started to push the water into my head and down my throat.
I sputtered with a cough and gripped the steering wheel for something tangible to hold on to. If I were holding on to something, I wouldn’t drown or float away.
Why couldn’t I breathe?
I’d wanted friends ever since I could remember and being Ashley’s friend was the ultimate. Yet I still felt plagued. My shoulders slumped with invisible weight and my neck ached, making it difficult to turn my head.
I drove home with the windows down even though a storm was rolling in and rain started to fall from the dense clouds. I needed the air. I needed the air to force itself into my lungs because they were filling up with water instead.
A cry of relief wobbled from my tight throat when I pulled up at home and saw Caesar’s car in the driveway and lights on in the house.
He was home.
He would save me.
I stumbled up to the house and tried to unlock the door but my keys clattered to the front porch. My breathing was so shallow I was starting to work up a sweat trying to inhale. I was practically kneeling on the porch.
When the front doors swung open, I scrambled up Caesar’s long legs and fused myself with him in a tight hug. “Hey, what’s wrong, Brook?” His strong arms held me tight, just like I needed. They forced the water out of my lungs. When he guided me inside the house, my knees loosened far too much to hold my weight and I crumpled against him.
“Brook, talk to me. Are you drowning?” He knew. He fucking knew. My heart thumped to life.
“Yes,” I cried. Cease took me into the bedroom and we sat on the floor. His hands were smooth and cool against my cheeks as he cupped them. His lips were gentle and feathery on my hot forehead.
I missed him when he moved across the room, but when I saw him pull out the boombox and tapes, a pained laugh fell from my lips. I loved that man more than words would ever be able to express. He played Hall and Oates and sat on the floor, holding me, kissing my temple and drawing invisible hearts on my scarred arms.
“I love you,” I whispered.
“I love you too. You ready to talk about it?” He met my lips with his and I slid my tongue into his mouth, hungry for the sensation he injected into my bloodstream. I was clearheaded, the water was gone and pleasure started to creep in on me.
It curled around me like dense cords, coiling and tightening until I was wrapped completely in its grasp. My body tingled as I climbed on top of him. I wanted him inside of me immediately.
He wanted it too.
His dick stiffened beneath me and I turned ravenous. I pulled my shirt off and Cease unsnapped my bra tossing it to the side. His tongue and teeth found my nipples and drew moans from the pit of me. I loved when he bit me.
I loved every flash of pain…every jolt that pushed through my body. The pain Caesar gave me didn’t burn like my cuts. It burned deeper. It sank into my marrow and smoldered.
When I felt his dick slide between my pussy lips, I shuddered against him. I’d never been on top before but nerves didn’t rule me for once. For once, I was pushed by the desperate need to connect to him.
“I can be on top, Brook,” he said.
“No, I want to ride you,” I said, panting through dry lips that were parched from my rapid breathing. Cease’s slick hands slid over my skin and I tipped my head back as he pushed against me again.
I lifted up and eased him inside of me with a slow groan. Once he was deep inside, fire rained down around us. I had no fucking idea what I was doing. It felt so good though. I rocked my hips until the need to go faster took over making me bounce on top of him.
“Like that?” I asked, looking down at his beautiful eyes.
