Chapter 23
Charlotte
Giddiness thrums through me as I stare up at the massive structure that seems to stretch endlessly into the sky, creating an epic sight that leaves me breathless. I’ve wanted to witness the SeaFort up close and personal for a long time now. If the outside is this impressive, I cannot wait to see the inside.
“Come on, come on. Move your ass, Morris.” I needle while swatting at his ass as we make our way into the hotel.
“Damn, Little Bit, seems like your patience just gets better and better every day.” He teases but still doesn’t speed the hell up.
The sheer opulence of the entry alone has me gasping for breath and grabbing onto Zach’s arm for stability. A gentle breeze could blow me over at the moment.
A grand archway lined with twinkling lights creates a luxurious welcome. We follow the path into a reception area, where gleaming marble floors and intricate mosaic tiles reflect the grandeur of the regal building.
Zach leads me to a plush black chair and motions for me to sit while he walks over to the check-in desk.
I don’t fight him on it. My eyes dart around the space, taking in the gilded ambiance with wonder and awe. Grandiosity fills every inch of this place.
I don’t think I’ve ever felt so out of place in my life. I suddenly feel vastly underdressed in Savvy’s cheer sweats and a band tee. I look around to see if anyone is staring at me, wondering who let the bum into their fancy schmancy hotel. I prepare myself to be shooed out at any moment.
“Alright, sweetheart, follow me.” I startle when he speaks from behind me and squeak a bit before slapping my hand over my mouth. He chuckles at me and motions his head towards a bank of elevators.
Elevators in fancy hotels are fast as fuck. Seriously, we hit the thirty-eighth floor in maybe five and a half seconds. Well, Mississippi’s anyway. But still, hella fast.
Zach holds a black card up to the door, with no room number but a black plaque on the wall with a golden “P” on it. I flick my head left and right, seeing no other rooms on this floor. He sees my uncertainty and pulls my hand behind him into the Penthouse space.
Ho-ly fuck.
The wall-to-wall two-story windows boast sweeping views of snow-capped mountains on the left side and the choppy waves of the inlet on the right.
I plop down on the immaculate white sofa in the living room–yes, this place has its own living room! – the roar of an artificial fire blazes in the square in front of me.
Zach leans down behind me, moving my hair off to the side, and kisses my neck. His tongue traces a line from my pulse point to just under my ear. Shivers erupt over my whole body with the action. “You see that fireplace, Little Bit?”
“Mhm,” I nod.
“Later, I’m gonna eat your delicious pussy in front of it while you’re splayed out naked as a jaybird on that there Persian rug.”
My heart skips multiple beats as I start to envision that very thing.
“But first,” he starts, and then a knock sounds at the door. He opens it, and two very large, very blonde and tan men walk in carrying large black cases.
Zach throws a robe at me and jerks his head towards what looks like the bathroom. “Come back wearin’ only that,” he hardens his eyes and lowers his voice, “Make sure that robe stays tight. I’d hate to pluck Sergei’s eyes outta his head for takin’ a peek at my girl.” He shoo’s me off to the bathroom with a swat on the ass and a wink.
I come back into the room, gripping the robe sash tightly. Not because of Zach’s idle threat but because I’ve grown uncomfortable in my skin. He hasn’t seen me naked in months. Pictures with flattering angles don’t count. I know one of the things he’s always loved about my body was the curves.
Between the drugs and the terrible food at the facility, my bones poke out in unappealing ways. My boobs seem to sag more without the proper fat, keeping them full and plump. My ass may as well be served with a slice of butter and syrup.
My hands twist into the soft terry cloth, and my eyes dart back and forth between the massage table and the door. I’m seconds away from bolting when a very sweet-looking older lady approaches me.
“Lena,” she introduces herself with a pat on her chest. “Come dear. Lay. I fix.” Oh, how I wish she could. Her broken English and kind demeanor endear me. Lena leads me over to a sheet-covered massage table. Zach is lying on one beside it, and Sergei is already going to town on his muscular back.
I climb on the table and lay flat on my stomach. Lena pulls the robe off my shoulders, and I flinch. She stops immediately and squeezes my shoulder, “It okay,” she soothes and pulls it the rest of the way while simultaneously pulling a warm sheet over my backside, keeping it from ever being exposed.
Her warm hands land on my skin, and a cold sweat breaks over my body. My hands grasp the table’s edge in a death grip, holding on to the here and now physically like it can tether me mentally as well.
Please, stop.
It’s okay, Charlie.
You’re safe.
Take a breath.
It’s not their hands.
You’re okay.
My nails cut into the soft cotton of the sheet. A scream lodges itself inside my throat. I must make a distressing sound because suddenly, Zach’s head snaps over to me, his eyes wide with concern. He clearly does not like what he sees because he jumps off his massage table the next moment. Dick swinging in between his legs for all to see, but he couldn’t care less.
I clench my eyes shut as a torrent of horrific memories flood in. “She fucking likes it rough, boys; give her what she wants.” I feel the clothes being torn from my body. “I’m going to enjoy this far more than you will, you pathetic bitch.” I feel the scream trapped in my throat as a red-hot pain flows through my breasts with the crushing force twisting them. I feel my body being flipped with ease, like I’m nothing more than a rag doll. I feel the rugged hands that grip my ass cheeks and force them apart. I feel my soul leave my body as some nameless, faceless monster takes what was not freely given.
“Hey. Hey. What’s happenin’, darlin’?” He doesn’t touch me, but he hovers down so we are at eye level and keeps his voice low.
With my eyes still closed, I shake my head back and forth. I hear the words, but they don’t make sense. I just want the memories to stop. Make them stop.
“Out!” Zach barks to the two staff members. They must think I’m crazy. Sometimes, I feel crazy. Murmured voices and movements seem worlds away. A soft snick of the door and a shuffling of a single pair of feet let me know that Zach is the only one present for my meltdown.
My eyes slowly open, staring at the expansive city view out of the impressive Penthouse window, but I don’t see anything. Nothing but hands coming at me in all directions. Lines being laid out on tables before me.
I finally allow a blink when the burn becomes too much to bear. A tear drips down from the corner.
“I’m here, baby. I’m here.” Zach whispers, anguish heavy in his voice as his hand slides onto the sheet beside my own. His arm outstretched from the position he’s taken up on the floor beside the table. I reach out my pinky towards his. It’s the only form of physical touch I can bring myself to give at the moment.
We lay in silence for what seems like forever, listening to the hum of the HVAC unit kicking on and off, doing its very best to keep up with the demands of the large hotel.
“I don’t know how to do this, Zach,” I say softly, surprised the words come out at all.
His pinky tightens against mine, silently urging me to continue. “I don’t even recognize myself most days. When I think about my life two years ago– hell, even just one year ago, I was a completely different person. How did things get so fucked up so fast?”
He heaves a sigh, not out of exasperation but of contemplation. “When my dad first got back from his deployment, I knew immediately somethin’ was off. I couldn’t put my finger on what exactly, but I knew he wasn’t the same guy who left the two years before that,” he loosens his grip on my finger, and his hand pulls down to the floor slowly.
I peek down and see him rub an invisible ache in his chest. The one caused by the man he always looked up to. The man meant to teach him right from wrong. The man who destroyed his trust and broke his family.
Zach and I are much the same in that regard. Maybe that’s why our souls call to each other. Why there’s a magnetic pull that keeps drawing us back together.
“I spent a hell of a lot of those first few months wonderin’ what I’d done wrong. Why was he so distant? Why was he so fuckin’ angry all the time? Why did he look at Mama and me like we were the cause of all his problems?”
The cracking of his knuckles breaks some of the silence radiating throughout the room. “It took a whole lotta time and a whole buncha therapy sessions, but I finally figured out it wasn’t about me. The weight that lifted from my shoulders when I came to that realization was immediate and immense.”
He crawls to his knees and rests his chin on the table beside my hand. My pinky instinctively finds his jaw and rubs gently against the light stubble. Zach is such a larger-than-life character. His public persona is an extroverted charmer who doesn’t take life too seriously. Doesn’t take anything too seriously. But I know better. Know him better. He feels deeply, and he has a pain locked away that still is too painful to think about opening. Maybe the bleach isn’t enough for Zach’s dirty brain box, either.
“Everybody’s gotta face their demons in their own time…on their own terms, baby. I ain’t here to rush you or make you do somethin’ you ain’t ready to do,” he says, holding his hand close to my face, eyes searching mine for the consent we both need. My eyes immediately soften at this beautiful man who has seen through me since the moment we met. I nod once, and he places his warm palm against my cheek.
“When you are ready, if you’re ever ready, I’m here.”
We stay embraced and find comfort in each other’s gaze for a while before Zach stands, kisses my forehead, and disappears.
A few minutes later, he comes back. I bring myself to a sitting position on the table, gripping the sheet tightly around my body. He stands before me and holds a hand out. I look at it, concerned as to how I’m going to stand and not lose the sheet. He heads towards the other side of the living room and comes back with the robe that Lena had laid against the arm of the chair.
I feel the warmth of his body against my back as he drapes the material across my shoulders and brings the front around my body while keeping his hands in respectful positions.
Vanilla and mint fill the air with their essence, my muscles relaxing a bit as I inhale the mouthwatering scents.
“May I?” Zach breathes the question against the side of my neck. I turn slightly to look at him, taking in just how close our faces are to one another. He gestures his arms out in a carrying position. I chuckle, “What a gentleman.” I tease.
“Oh darlin’, I made some promises about how this evenin’ was gonna go, and I intend to keep every single one. Startin’ with–” His words are cut off by the very undignified squeal I let out when he lifts my body into his arms and carries me bridal-style into the bathroom.
The vanilla and mint are concentrated in this area. I peer over his shoulder at the biggest bathtub I’ve ever seen in my life.
Ho-ly shit. The porcelain stretches at least eight feet in length. Gold filigree lines the outer edges, making its way down the sides in soft swoopes and down to the bronze claw feet. The intricate design wraps around the metal and marks a path along the bottom of the tub to the other foot.
Bubbles fill the tub to the brim, and suddenly, I can’t wait to immerse myself in them. Zach sets me on the white marble counter with a softness you wouldn’t think his muscular body would possess. He’s always like that with me, though. I get the side of Zach that no one else does—the tender, attentive, submissive man that I know him to be, and it’s all for me .
The cadence of my heart picks up to a breakneck pace when he stands between my legs, with his hands poised on the sash. Waiting for my permission to remove it and bare my body to the elements– to him.
A cold chill spreads from my stomach in every direction, sending misfires of nerves along my limbs. I tamp down the desire to run… and fuck, that desire is fierce. I swallow down my fight-or-flight instinct and put my hand over his, interlocking our fingers as we pull the tie apart together.
His kind, caring gaze reverently follows the movement of our hands. When the ends of the sash drape along my thighs, he brings his eyes to mine, waiting for me to make the next move. It’s on my timeline with Zach. Always .
Embarrassment heats my skin, and a crimson flush creeps along my neck and chest. Our joined hands come to the lapels of my robe, and begin to pull it away from my skin slowly. Our gazes lock on one another as the brush of his fingertip against my heated flesh causes a familiar ache to throb between my thighs.