Chapter Ten
Cyn
My phone buzzes in my pocket as I jog through Upper Queen Anne. I know without looking it’s my mom. Or maybe she gave my number to Peter. I love taking walks through this neighborhood with views of the Space Needle and daydreaming about which house I want to buy someday.
I stop to catch my breath on the corner, feeling sweat slide down my spine under my black hoodie.
My hair is tucked away in a long braid, and I have a baseball cap pulled low over my face.
Big, cheap sunglasses from the corner market disguise my face.
Ignoring any bodily discomfort in the heat, I swipe away the unknown number on my phone and pull up the delivery tracking.
The van passes me, coinciding with the dot moving on my screen’s map. Perfect timing.
This is my second time doing this exact maneuver.
I start my slow jog again, watching as the delivery driver hops out of his van with a manila package in his hand.
He tosses it lightly down onto the welcome mat of an adorable mint green house with a large open porch only a few feet from the sidewalk.
He snaps a quick picture and walks swiftly away.
He’s pulling into the road right as I approach the house, zagging inward at a trot to scoop up the package and stick it under my arm.
The picture reaches my phone a few seconds later, letting me know the purchase I made through a library computer with a false email, Visa gift card, and this unknowing homeowner’s address, arrived safely. As I turn the corner, I pick up speed, basking in the success of my second heist.
I finally open the package once I’m safely in my building’s elevator. A ten-pack of very specific black tea, the forest green packaging distinctive and only available online.
“There you are,” Beau growls the second I step into my condo door, and I scream, dropping the package and slamming my fists against his chest. He’s freshly showered and in a plain white t-shirt that hugs every bit of his chest. He just came from an afternoon team workout, and the veins on his forearms are still bulging.
“You scared me!” I squeal as he lifts me by my ass and slams me against the wall. “Stop, I’m all sweaty.”
“I don’t fucking care,” he says, already shoving his face into my damp neck and breathing deep.
My legs are forced to spread around his hips, and I squeak when he hoists me up onto one arm.
God, he’s so fucking hot. My panties are already soaked, and it’s not just from sweat.
“I’ve been thinking about your pretty face all day.
I almost jacked off in the shower, but I knew I needed to put all my cum in your tight cunt, baby. ”
“Beau,” I whine, gripping the wet strands of his hair and arching my back.
Two weeks of being fucked day and night by my childhood dream boyfriend and I’m not even close to tiring of him.
He reaches between my thighs, and I don’t know how he does it, but I hear the rending of fabric, and he’s pushing aside my panties and thrusting two fingers deep into my pussy. “Oh! Oh, fuck!”
“Ride my hand, baby, fuck, you’re already dripping for me.
My horny little slut,” he mutters, then sucks hard at my neck and flutters his thick fingers in my stretched channel.
“I should be sorry for all the things I’ve done to this tiny hole, but I can’t fucking stop.
This is my pussy to play with, isn’t it?
And I’ve got a lot of time to make up for. ”
I see stars as he pulls out his pumping fingers and rubs tight circles around my clit. How he went from virgin to pussy pro needs to be studied. He needs to teach a course. Write a book.
“Ahhh!” I scream as he drags a climax from my tired and sweat-soaked body, wringing me dry, pinned in place.
Before I have time to think, still rolling on orgasmic waves, he jams his hips, and his big cock is tunneling its way through me, thudding me against the wall.
I can barely moan as he does it again. He reaches up to yank off my sunglasses and hat, and he’s fisting my hair, tugging it to the side so my neck opens up to him and he’s sucking at me as he fucks me.
“So fucking good, baby,” he grunts. He’s big and thick and deep, and the pinch of pain from overuse sends tingles through me, but I don’t want him to stop. I never want him to stop.
“Harder,” I whimper, “harder!”
Good boy that he is, he listens, fucking me so hard my head bounces off the wall, and I’m gasping and wailing for his fat cock.
“Need you deeper. Need to fill this pussy up and put a baby in you,” he groans, and he spins, carrying me easily to the sofa where he yanks me off his dick with a pop and bends me over the arm.
My feet lift off the ground as he shoves back in, painfully hard in one go.
I hear more ripping and see my pants flung to the ground out of the corner of my blurred eye.
I don’t know how long he uses me, but I cum a half dozen times, and he fills me up at least twice before I pass out. My sore pussy wakes me, and I find myself in his arms, naked, being lowered into a hot bath.
“Food,” I moan, slipping my head under water, then reemerging to find his lips right there, kissing mine wetly.
“Gimme a minute, I’ll bring it in here,” he kisses me again and again, soft, sweet pecks, and I whimper with pleasure as the hot water sets my skin afire and loosens my muscles.
Beau brings me a girl-dinner plate filled with dried mango, club crackers, hummus, olives, cucumber rounds, and bites of sharp cheddar. I eat it all, slowly, basking under his close attention from the side of the tub.
“Cyn,” he finally says, setting my empty plate aside and grabbing my shampoo.
I half-turn, sitting up to give him my back as he begins to lather my hair.
His blunt fingertips dig into my scalp, and I whimper at the intense pleasure.
“My mom called earlier. She said he’s back in his house.
A local watchdog group has put up flyers all around the neighborhood calling him out.
Apparently, the only time he leaves is for his parole meetings on Wednesdays. ”
“Okay. Okay. I’m okay, I promise.” And I am. I’ve barely thought about Peter with Beau beside me all night long. He’s needy, wraps me up in his arms, and doesn’t sleep unless his face is buried in my neck. I love it so much.
“What can I do?” he asks, his fist squeezing out my long hair, the suds floating around my elbows. His hand skims down my neck and cups my shoulder, his fingers reaching down to the top of my breast, making my skin rise.
“Do you trust me?” I whisper.
“You know I do. I want to take it out of your hands. I want to protect you.” He’s so sad, and I know he thinks he didn’t do enough back then.
I’m going to disabuse him of that idea, though.
I know we’re trauma-bonded. I know nothing about the two of us being together is normal or healthy. And I don’t give a damn.
“You protected me once, Beau. You saved me and sent the bad guy to jail. But jail isn’t enough.
And I need to save myself this time.” He’s silent as he grabs the shower head and tips my head back gently, cupping his hand along my brow to keep the soapy water from my eyes.
So tender with me, but so hard and rough when I need it as well.
“Just tell me what I can do to help you. Anything, baby.”
“The team fundraiser gala is next Thursday, right?” I ask, and I feel him nod behind me, his hand curls down to cup my breast, his thumb strumming the tip. “I’d like to go. Red carpet. Pictures. The whole nine yards.”
“Done. You’re not worried anymore about being recognized?”
“No. Are you worried I’ll be recognized?”
“I don’t care either way. I’m showing off my girl, and I’m proud to have you by my side.
No matter what.” Big words for the man I’ve been fucking for less than one month.
But I believe him. After all, he saved himself for seven years, waiting for us to find each other.
His next words are husky and feral, “Stand up.”
Water snakes down my body as he kneels before me on the hard tile and sinks his tongue into my swollen red vulva.
His steadying hands are on my hips, and he rumbles with pleasure to be eating my pussy stuffed with his seed.
I hold the top of his head and drop my head backward, riding his delicious face to a swift peak.
?
“Four to eight seeds,” I whisper through my mask as I carefully pick out eight castor seeds from the bag. A local nursery had delivered them the day before my black tea purchase, and I’d nabbed it just as easily that first time, and from the same unsuspecting house.
I place the seeds into my marble mortar and pestle and begin crushing them. It’s mushier than I expected, brown chunks sticking to the pestle. I just have to trust that this is going to turn into ricin.
Next, I use tweezers to carefully untie the teabag string and unfold the open end of the fibrous filter paper. Once the tea leaves are on a plastic plate, I get to work mixing and mashing together as much of the mulchy seeds into the leaves as I can. It doesn’t have to be pretty.
Leaving it out to dry, I toss my gloves in the plastic container I’m going to put all this toxic waste in. I check the time and my messages.
How are you, baby? Wish you were here. I told mom and dad about you. And Marcus and his girl Shante. They all can’t wait to see you tomorrow.
I ignore the flash of anxiety I get at the thought of seeing Beau’s people again after this long. He told them everything. I didn’t want there to be any lies or secrets, and he’d agreed. But I still didn’t want to be there for the announcement.
And Peter goes to meet his parole officer on Wednesdays.
I’m good. Have fun tonight, don’t worry about me. I can’t wait to catch up with them tomorrow, too. Love you.
The only other message makes me pause. Damn my mom for giving that monster my number.
Hey, pretty girl. I’ve missed you. Have you missed me?