Chapter 15
Hog
Good God.
My heart is skipping erratically and my chest feels tight with every fucking breath I take, but even if it’s the last one I draw, I will die a happy man. With my eyes wide open though, I’m determined not to miss a second of Anika riding me.
I’m propped up against the pillows, my arms up and my hands grabbing on to the edge of the headboard. Anika has her arms stretched behind her and her hands braced on my knees, as she slides up and down my cock. Her neck and back are arched, her tits bouncing, and I’m the lucky bastard with a front-row seat.
“Ahh, yeah…” she moans, trembling with the effort to keep her rhythm.
With my nails digging into the wood, I fight the urge to take over. I don’t want to disrupt the torture she is putting me through, it’s absolute fucking bliss.
I feel the walls of her pussy pulsing, and my balls pull tight in response.
“You’re killing me,” I gasp, clenching my jaw so hard, I’m afraid I’ll break my damn teeth.
The words have barely left my mouth when she suddenly surges up and forward, plants her hands on my chest, and starts riding me hard and taking me deep.
I can narrowly hold on, and the moment I feel her pussy clamp down on me, I let go. It’s not until she collapses on my chest, I release the headboard, wrapping her up in my arms.
Sheer fucking perfection.
Anika is the first to move, and I reluctantly release her so she can go to the bathroom. She returns a few minutes later, wearing a robe. She walks over, puts a knee on the mattress, and leans in for a brief kiss.
“I’m going to put some coffee on, why don’t you have a shower first?” she suggests. “Franco will probably be here soon, and I don’t have to go in until noon.”
That’s right too, Franco is picking me up. I’d better get my ass in gear. I’d almost forgotten after waking up with Anika’s lips wrapped around my dick. When I tried to take over, she said she wanted to run the show, so I sat back and let her. Damn, the woman knows what she’s doing. I’m gonna have no issue letting her take the reins whenever the mood hits her.
I get rid of the condom, relieve myself, and hop in the shower.
What a great way to start the day.
I’m glad, because last night was a bit stressful, and by the time we got back here, both of us were pretty beat.
It was a lot of talking, something that never really happened in our family. A bit of a free-for-all, with everyone ready with their opinion. I mostly stayed quiet, only jumping in when I felt Anika was ganged up on, or when asked a direct question.
Everyone seemed butt hurt, even Trin and Chuck, which surprised me a little. In the end, it was a combination of concern and hurt feelings which made for the somewhat explosive reaction, but I think Anika did a good job explaining her motivations for keeping the information to herself.
It had been close to eleven when we left. Everyone hugged it out. Even Bodhi and Nira gave Anika a hug, but those were a bit reserved. Especially Anika’s mother had taken it quite personally, and I’m guessing there’s some work to do in that relationship.
Anika made it clear she was done talking when we drove home, so I didn’t ask how she was feeling. I’m thinking I’m not going to broach the subject this morning and ruin a good start to the day either.
A good day, getting even better when I get a whiff of coffee. I turn off the shower, wrap a towel around my hips, and brush my teeth. Then I get dressed and follow my nose downstairs.
“I probably won’t make it back before you leave,” I inform Anika twenty minutes later as she trails me to the front door.
“I wasn’t really expecting you to. You don’t have to rush; I’ll see you tonight. Are you okay with salmon for dinner? I have a nice filet in the freezer I can take out, and we have plenty of vegetables to go with it.”
I turn, take her face in my hands, and claim an all-too-brief taste of her lips.
“Sounds great.”
I’ll be doing the cooking, but I’ll let her find that out when she comes home. I have a feeling she’ll have a thing or two to say about that, and Franco just messaged he’s waiting for me out front.
I drop another kiss on her mouth.
“Let me know when you get to the salon,” I tell her as I step out the door.
I catch her rolling her eyes and grin.
“Indulge me. Please,” I add.
“Fine.”
The faint smile on her lips negates her snippy tone.
“Morning, Boss,” Franco greets me when I get into his truck. “How are you feeling?”
“Pretty much as usual.”
Not quite, my body still feels kind of banged up, and this low-grade headache is persistent, but I’m getting there.
“I may actually come back to the farm after, pack a few boxes,” I announce.
Yesterday, when I was grabbing a few of my things, I noticed the half-full box I’d started packing beside the dresser in my bedroom. A reminder I’m supposed to get the key to my new place the end of next week. Obviously, I hadn’t planned on getting hurt on the job, but maybe—rather than sitting on Anika’s couch twiddling my thumbs—I can use my recuperation time a bit more productively by getting my shit packed up.
“Still moving into that rental place?” Franco wants to know.
“What do you mean, still? Yeah, of course.”
He grins and raises his hand defensively.
“Just wondering if maybe you’d had a better offer.”
“Our arrangement is temporary,” I enlighten him.
It’s none of his business. I wouldn’t mind eventually making our arrangement permanent.
It doesn’t take long to figure out someone is the one for you when you’ve already been half in love with them for years.
Anika
“I know, Mom.”
Of course, she calls me as I’m getting ready to head out. So much for getting to the salon early to get some paperwork out of the way I haven’t had a chance to look at in a while.
It’s funny, last night she was in no way done making me feel guilty for keeping stuff from her. This morning, however, she’s ready to do her helicopter thing.
“It’s only because I love you.”
There’s the guilt again.
“I know, but have you ever heard the saying; if you love it let it go?”
I hear a soft snort, but no further reaction to that.
“Mom, this, right here, was the main reason I didn’t want to tell you guys. I’m glad Mrs. Winters had good success with her magnetic bracelet, but I don’t want one.”
“Well, but what about the acupuncturist? I could call and see if they could fit you in?”
I shove my fist in my mouth to keep from screaming.
“Mom,” I start, hanging on to the very last strand of my patience. “Hear me, and hear me well. Acupuncture is not currently part of the plan my doctor and I have worked on to manage these conditions. More importantly—and I can’t stress this enough—I do not need my mother calling for me, or making my appointments. For Chrissake, Mom, I’m not six, I’ll turn forty this year. I run my own business, I have my own house, I think I can handle looking after my own appointments.”
It’s dead silent on the other side, and before she gathers up enough steam to formulate a response, I quickly round off this conversation.
“I have to go and get to work. I love you, and I’ll give you a call later this week.”
With that I hang up, take a deep breath, and grab my keys and bag before heading out the door.
On my way to the salon, I stop to pick up a few things we’re running short on. We go through coffee and cream like you wouldn’t believe, and I don’t want to risk not finding any when I get there. This morning is definitely turning out to be a three-cup morning.
After parking the truck behind the salon and getting out, I’m about to grab my groceries from behind my seat, when I find myself glancing up at the apartment, and notice something odd. It almost looks like the door might be open.
Is it possible Kim came back?
Keeping my eyes on the apartment, I ease the truck door shut and make my way to the bottom of the stairs. Putting my foot on the first step, I’m already pulling my phone from my pocket, when I’m suddenly grabbed from behind and it slips from my hand. Before I can yell out, a hand clamps over my mouth and I’m lifted clear off my feet.
For a moment, I’m so shocked I can’t move, but then the stench of stale sweat—and something else pungent I can’t put my finger on—assaults me and triggers my instinct to fight. And fight I do, as I’m hauled backward and pulled into the enclosure under the stairs we use to store our recyclables. He abruptly removes his arm from around me—leaving only the hand covering the bottom half of my face—and I fight even harder.
Until I feel the tip of something sharp pressed into the soft skin just below my jaw.
“Stop fucking struggling,”he hisses right by my ear, breathing heavily. “Or I will cut you.”
The alcohol fumes coming from him nearly have me pass out.
There’s nothing like feeling your heartbeat pulsing against the edge of what I’m sure is a blade of some sort. I freeze, but my eyes don’t stop scanning the road I’m just able to see between the slats of the fencing.
“Much better,” he mumbles. “Now, where is she?”
The idiot’s hand is still covering my mouth, so I growl behind it. He clues in and lifts it, but only a fraction, while at the same time pressing the knife a bit deeper.
“Where the fuck is she?” he repeats.
He doesn’t know?
“I…” I have to swallow to clear my throat. “I don’t know. I thought she was with you.”
“Bullshit, you know where she’s hiding. That whiny bitch has something of mine I need back.”
“I swear she’s gone. She’s been gone since Friday,” I try again, struggling to make sense of what is happening.
This time I feel the bite of the blade in my skin and warm liquid running down my neck.
“Lying cunt,”he hisses, his spit hitting the side of my face.
Terrified he’s going to push that blade deeper if I can’t convince him I can’t help him, I start to ramble.
“I’m not lying, the police found her car yesterday afternoon at Lake Nighthorse but no sign of her. They wanted to know if she was into water sports because she’d been parked near the boat rental, but I didn’t know. She never?—”
I’m cut off when the knife disappears and I’m abruptly swung around. Losing my balance I stumble into the recycling bins, and my hand comes up to my throat feeling the warm blood with my fingers.
“What do you mean, they found her car?” Cooper yells, looming over me and waving the knife in my face. He looks absolutely frantic.
“Hey! What are you doing back there?” a voice calls out from the street.
It startles Cooper, who straightens up, momentarily distracted by whoever is out there. It gives me a chance to scramble back farther and try to pull one of the bins between us. The scraping noise draws his attention back, and I instinctively hold up my hands in a feeble attempt to ward him off.
To my surprise, instead of reaching for me, he mumbles, “Shit,” and drops the knife, which clatters on the pavement. Then he spins around and darts out of the tight space.
“Hey!” I hear again, along with the sounds of someone running.
I just manage to pull myself to my feet when the owner of the art gallery two doors down pokes his head under the stairs.
“Jesus,” he mutters when he catches sight of me.
I feel a bit of a mess, the shakes taking over my body.
“Stay put, I’m going to call 911,” he announces.
“Wait,” I stop him. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”
If he calls 911, my brother will hear, he started his shift at seven this morning. I don’t want him freaking out.
“I need to grab my phone,” I tell the man. “I dropped it on the stairs, I have the number for Detective Evans.”
He offers me a hand, which I gratefully take as I step over the knife Cooper dropped. He doesn’t let go until I sit down on the stairs and pick up my phone.
My first call is to Evans, but I call Hog next, my hands still shaking.