Chapter Nine #2
He undoes the belt around my hands next, rubbing at the marks there sorrowfully as I swallow and lick my lips. He stares at me carefully, his cock bobbing as he moves to free my ankles and a blob of white jizz oozes out of my red pussy. I’m in a pleasure-induced fugue state.
“Go on,” he says. “Call the cops. Tell them what I did.”
“Beau,” I try his name on my lips, my voice raspy.
A strangled sound issues from his throat. His hands rest on my belly and hip, as if even thinking I’m about to have him arrested, he still can’t stop from touching me.
“Beau,” I say again, pushing myself to sit up. “How did you know it was me?”
“My body knew from the start,” he answers, kneeling nude before me as I scoot to the edge of the bed.
His cock and balls are an eyeful; on any other man I’d think it a disgusting blob of moist flesh, but on him my mouth waters and my pussy seeps.
I blink hard as I try to look away. He presses his hand to his chest, staring up at me through strands of wild hair.
“Then my heart recognized you the moment I slid deep. It was a homecoming. Familiar. Right. Lastly, my eyes saw you and my mind knew.”
“But— I’m not the person I was. You shouldn’t have known. I’ve had surgery. I was made up. A contact lens— ”
“You couldn’t hide from me, Cyn. I searched for seven years.
There was no way I wasn’t going to know it was you.
” He stays on his knees, watching me soulfully as I look around and gnaw on my lower lip.
“You— you need to call the police. Tell them what I did to you. I’ve—I’ve been watching you.
Stalking you. I’m no better than Peter. I— fuck— the things I just did to you without your consent.
Even now, all I want to do is load you up with more cum and make sure you’re pregnant. It’s all I can think about.”
“Don’t say that,” I snap, shoving at his shoulder, though he doesn’t budge. “You’re nothing like him. Nothing.”
“I abducted you! Tied you up! I didn’t give you a choice. You don’t know what else— there are cameras. In the hall. Your home. Your bedroom.”
I pause at his confession, his voice straining under the weight of it. I expect anger and fear to bubble up. I wait for it. Maybe I am truly broken because I don’t care. I should care, and I simply don’t. I shrug, and his eyes narrow as if angry at himself on my behalf. Tough cookies, bro.
“Gracyn—”
“Cyndi.”
“Sorry. Cyndi.” He grabs my clutch off the floor, and I pause to admire the round firmness of his big butt.
Yup, definitely not mad at him. He pulls out my phone, staring at several missed calls from an unknown number before shoving it toward me.
“Go on. Call the cops. That was probably your date tonight wondering why you didn’t show up. ”
“I didn’t have a date tonight,” I say, looking at my phone with a frown. I tap it open and see a half dozen texts. They’re from my mom.
“Then why did you get all dressed up? Cyndi, what the fuck? I assaulted you. Why aren’t you mad?”
Call me, Gracyn Lara
Don’t ignore me. This is important.
It’s about Peter. We need to talk. He’s getting out.
You immature little bitch
I raised you, provided for you. You owe me
Selfish. Selfish. Selfish.
I look up at his familiar, handsome face. The face I’ve dreamed of. The face I never forgot. Tears spill over my eyelids, and I hold my phone out to him. I’m in his arms faster than I can think his name.
Beau Bradley.
“What is it? Baby, baby, what's wrong?” He spins us, pulling me onto his lap sideways and cupping my head against his chest. “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I fucking did that to you. I’m sorry, baby, fuck, I love you so much. I always have, never stopped.”
It’s stupid and fucked up, but I whisper against his chest, “I love you. I love you.”
“Stop it. Don’t say that. Don’t say that if you don’t mean it. I’m not going anywhere,” he mumbles into my hair, his arms wrapping me up tightly. I melt into him.
“I do mean it. I do. But— you don’t know everything about me. You wouldn’t love me if you knew all the things I’ve done. I’m a sex worker, Beau. I’ve been with dozens of men. It’s not new. I’ve been doing it for years, only making good money for the last two years.”
“None of that matters. None of that changes the fact that I love you. That I only want you. Nothing you say or do could push me away.”
“What if I wanted to keep doing it? Keep working?” My insides draw tight as I say the words, even knowing I’m not sure I could ever be with another man after being with Beau.
He doesn’t even hesitate. “If that’s what you need to do to feel safe, to feel secure, then that’s okay. We’d talk about it. Set boundaries.”
“But you’ve only been with me. And I’ve been with so many others. It’s not fair, Beau, it’s not fair to you.” Tears spill again. I’ve never cried this much in my life, but I can’t seem to stop. How did I go from a cool, collected bad bitch to a soggy dishrag in a matter of weeks?
“Life’s not fair, baby. The things you’ve been through aren’t fair. I chose not to be with anyone else. You did what you had to do in the situation you were served. We can’t compare the two. That would be unfair.”
I sit with that. Letting him hold me. Relishing intimate skin-to-skin contact. The aftercare I’ve never allowed myself, never in my life. He gently strokes my back, my thighs, and I feel protected for the first time.
“I don’t speak to my mom,” I eventually say in my wet and wrung voice. “Whenever she calls, it’s about him.”
Beau stiffens under me, and not in a good way.
“I’m going to kill him, baby. I’m going to kill him for what he did to you.”
“No, you’re not. You would get caught in a heartbeat. Did you even try to hide the fact you’ve been stalking me? Did you use a fake email address or make purchases using cash?”
He grumbles and shakes his head, and I can’t help but press my face into his chest and grin. He found me and followed me, learned what he could, moved in next door, with no thought for the consequences of his actions. The big, sweet dummy.
“I’m going to be the one who kills him.”