15. Lee
Lee
Julian makes breakfast. It’s sweet, but I can’t eat right now. My stomach is too knotted.
He tilts his head at my plate, and I take a bite to appease him then get back to it.
There are hundreds of files. Nothing is organized. Folders inside folders, logs labeled with strings of numbers, photographs buried between medical reports and encrypted surveillance notes. I set up a system to try to find some way to go through everything based on common words.
Lauren. Harper. Eva. Emily.
My cursor hovers over Emily’s file until my hand starts to shake.
I start with Lauren instead. It’s a chicken-shit move, and I know it.
Lauren had a handler. His photograph loads the second I open the folder labeled with her subject number. Mid-thirties, dark hair, a plain face engineered to vanish in any crowd. I don’t recognize him. I don’t recognize Lauren either.
The logs of their meetings look harmless at first: dates, times, locations, durations. Then my skin prickles.
The last entry reads 1:06 a.m. and the location is withheld. The log states the meeting duration was fifty-eight minutes. Nobody meets a college girl after one in the morning for nearly an hour and leaves nothing but a time stamp.
I sort the file and keep scrolling.
Near the bottom of Lauren’s folder is a medication log. Vinculum appears three times. Next to the final dose, someone typed: Subject displays heightened attachment response. Recommend handler separation before next escalation.
I stare at the line until the words blur.
They weren’t just drugging these girls.
“Julian, is this real?” I send the files and medical transcripts that cross-reference attachment response to my tablet and hand it to him.
“Lauren had a handler,” I say. “There are dose logs. They were tracking how attached she became to him after Vinculum. Can you explain it?”
“It says heightened attachment response. They recommended separating her from the handler before the next escalation.”
I chew on my fingernail and keep sorting. I could code a workflow to do it for me, or a bot, but I don’t. I want to absorb everything there is and hand-sort through this.
My finger drifts toward Emily’s folder then stops. Not yet. I need more before I open hers. Opening it will feel like reliving the night she died, and my stomach already twists at the thought.
Julian pulls on his reading glasses, and I stare. He’s so handsome, it’s distracting. He must sense me being a creep because he looks up and gives me a smirk, then he keeps reading.
I close my eyes, trying to make this make sense.
When he finishes reading, he takes off his hot-as-hell glasses and looks at me.
“It’s real, baby. The Vinculum makes inhibitions lower, obsessive thoughts increase, and they took advantage of those side effects. It would have helped get the girls to be compliant. They also mixed it with separating the girls from loved ones so they needed to focus more on the handlers.”
He goes on to explain how exactly the brain responds to the drug and the psychological side effects.
A tear rolls down my cheek.
He shares a look with me. Sadness, outrage, and then heartbreak. I nod in understanding and keep sorting.
At lunchtime, Julian tries to get me to take a break. I tell him I’m fine without looking away from the screen, which fools neither of us. I decline his offer of food and fresh air.
By midafternoon, my back starts to ache from hunching over the computer. I’ve gone through half of Lauren’s files when Julian walks in again. This time, he just brings the food to me.
“Eat, Ettie.”
I try to refuse, but I am actually hungry.
“Dr. Bossy is sexy,” I tell him. No one cares for me like Julian. Maybe Elliot did once, but it was different. Julian worships me. Elliot owned me. Not anymore though. Now is not the time to think about it.
My arms stretch over my head.
Julian’s eyes drag across the sliver of skin peeking out from under my shirt.
I swear my nipples are constantly hard and poking out at him. I really do need to calm my tits. Julian’s making it tough.
He drags a chair from the corner of the room, closer to me.
“How is it going?”
I stand and plop down on his lap and close my eyes.
“It’s a mess. Most of what I’ve found is useless. Why the hell would Elliot give me such a clusterfuck of a file?”
Julian reaches around me to the plate on the desk and holds it up. I take it in one hand.
My teeth sink into my sandwich, and I think.
Julian opens a soda, and I thank him. I feel bad for the world for holding Julian here and keeping him to myself. God, I hope he doesn’t hate me once he realizes I’m never going to get out of this shit show.
“Have you talked to Marge? What about your contracts? What will the wealthy do without their personal doctor?” I tease.
“I sent her and Calum a message when we left. They think we are on a vacation to get back together. I’m not sure if they bought it or not.”
I smile at him and finish my sandwich. He drinks a protein shake, and we talk about where we would actually like to go on vacation.
He says mountains.
I say beach.
Immediately, he changes his answer, claiming any vacation involving me in a bikini is the better choice.
“Take a break. We can walk outside for a while. I get that you want to work, and you’re going to figure this out. Getting some air won’t change that.”
I glance toward the windows. “There are probably wolves.”
“Ettie, I told you, there are no wolves.”
“Yeah, well, I want to believe you, but I know what I heard.”
Julian shakes his head at me. His lips go in a long line while he tries to keep from laughing at me. I heard a howl last night. And I know he knows it was not the wind. He’s just trying to make me feel better.
When I stand up to clean my dishes, he grabs my hand and leads me back into the main room that is both the small kitchen and the little living room.
“Come on, babydoll. I’ll keep you safe from the wolves while you take a minute to relax. Let me find you a warm blanket.”
I watch the muscles in his back while we walk. How can a back be such a turn-on?
“Hmm, I think there might be some other ways to relax.”
Julian spins, dropping my hand, and he towers over me.
“Kneel.”
One word and I almost combust in place. My pulse slams into my throat, and my pussy floods my panties.
I drop in front of him. The floor is hard and cold beneath my knees, but I barely feel it. I’m only wearing his white T-shirt that barely covers my ass. No bra and a tiny thong that’s dark enough he can probably see the straps through the cotton.
“You are so fucking gorgeous,” Julian breathes. “I want to paint you with my cum, babydoll. Rub it into every inch of your skin like a tattoo so you carry me with you all day.”
My cunt clenches at the words alone. I lick my lips, meeting his gaze without flinching.
“Do it.”
Sucking in his breath, he reaches down and unzips his jeans with deliberate slowness. He only pushes them down his thighs just enough to give me access. His cock is thick and already leaking at the slit. I can smell his warm and masculine scent, and my mouth waters.
I lean forward and drop my jaw.
“Does my babydoll need a taste?” His voice is thick with sex and so much love it makes my chest ache. “Because I know that horny little look in your eye. You need something to suck and play with. And you’re going to take me so well, aren’t you?”
I nod, and he shoves his hand in my hair and cradles my head.
“Tongue out and I’ll give you what you want.”
On a whimper, I obey.
He spits right onto my tongue. Twice. “Open wider for me, babydoll. I want to see it slide down that pretty throat.”
I part my lips wide, tongue flat, and swallow.
He feeds his cock past my lips in one long, slow push until the head nudges the back of my mouth.
I gag around him, tears springing to my eyes, but he doesn’t pull away. He stays right there, stroking my cheek with his thumb like he’s memorizing how beautiful I look stretched around him.
“Fuck, Ettie. You feel like heaven. You’re taking me so perfectly, like you were made for this. Made for me.”
He rocks into my mouth in deep, steady strokes.
My mouth works around him, spasming. Drool spills from the corners of my lips and drips down my chin, but he groans like it’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen.
“You need my cum, don’t you, baby? You can have it. Suck me good, and it’s all yours. You can do it. You always take daddy so well,” he purrs.
The praise makes me dizzy with want. I hollow my cheeks and suck harder. My eyes water and my lips swell, but I keep going because I need to be good for him.
“Kiss it and suck my balls, babydoll. Show me how much you love me.”
I give him sweet kisses trailing under his shaft before I take his heavy sack into my mouth, sucking gently while I stare up at him. His blue eyes are soft and burning at the same time.
“Good girl.” His finger traces my bottom lip with deliberate pressure, lingering just long enough that I feel the slickness he leaves behind. His gaze never leaves mine, daring me to react.
“Now suck like you mean it. Daddy is going to have to be rough now. But you’ll take it for me, won’t you? I have little control when you are so good on your knees.”
He slides back in, deeper this time, until my nose is pressed to the coarse hair at his base. I can’t breathe, but his hands cradle my head, and I trust him enough to let him use me this way. He holds me there, hips rocking in and out so I feel every thick inch stretching my throat.
When he finally lets me up for air, I’m gasping, coughing, and strings of spit trail from my mouth to his cock. He doesn’t give me long to catch my breath, but his voice is pure worship.
“Play with yourself. You must be aching between your thighs. Come with your mouth around me.”
I nod and swallow him down again.
My fingers find my soaked slit, and I whine when I touch my sensitive clit. I’m so gone for him it only takes me half a second before I shove three fingers inside and I come, moaning around his length.
The cries from my orgasm are making him feral. He fists my hair with both hands now and starts fucking my face rough. I’m soaked through my panties, throbbing in time with every thrust that forces my jaw to open wider.
“Gonna come all over this pretty face,” he groans, voice breaking.
I moan around him again, and he curses softly, pulling out with a wet pop. His hand flies to his shaft, stroking himself fast and rough right in front of my face.
“Open wider. Tongue out. Eyes on me. You look so beautiful when I give you what you need.”
His abs tighten. His thighs shake. A rough groan rips out of him.
The first hot stripe lands across my cheek, thick and heavy.
The second hits my lips, dripping down my chin.
The third lashes over my nose and forehead.
He keeps coming. Pulse after pulse he paints me like he promised, until my face is a mess of white ropes and spit, dripping onto my tits, soaking through the T-shirt.
He milks the last drops onto my waiting tongue then smears the head of his cock through the mess on my cheek, rubbing it in like lotion.
“Fucking mine,” he says, and it’s almost like he’s making a declaration.
A faint scrape sounds near the hallway.
For one stupid second, I assume Jasper has knocked into something again.
Movement makes me turn my head.
Elliot is standing there.
Leaning against the wall, arms crossed, his hazel eyes are dark and unreadable. He’s been watching the whole time. Watching Julian fuck my face. Watching him come all over me.
Julian doesn’t flinch or cover up. He just smirks, pleased with himself. He drags his thumb through a thick streak of cum on my cheek then pushes it between my lips.
“Clean it up, babydoll.”
I suck his thumb clean, never breaking eye contact with Elliot.
Julian finally tucks himself away, zips up, then hauls me to my feet by my hair hard enough to make me gasp.
He leans in, voice low so only I can hear.
“Tell your partner he’s welcome to watch next time, or join. Assuming you leave him alive long enough.”
He releases me, gives Elliot a lazy nod, and walks off toward the bedroom without another word.
I stay frozen in the middle of the living room, Julian’s T-shirt clinging to my damp skin, my face sticky, my thighs trembling, my heart trying to pound its way out of my chest.
I should be kicking, punching, at least screaming at him. I have rehearsed a hundred vicious things to say to Elliot Ryker since the moment I realized what he was.
But all I can do is stay locked in a stare with Elliot.
He pushes off the wall and grabs a towel from the kitchen counter. With deliberate steps, he walks right in front of me.
His eyes drop to the mess on my face, then lower, to where my nipples are hard and another man’s cum is seeping through my shirt.
He doesn’t say anything at first.
I’m in some kind of shock. He’s here. He watched me with Julian. Carefully, he wipes my face. Before it’s all gone, he reaches out, drags two fingers through the cum on my chin, and brings them to my lips.
“Open.”
He pushes his fingers inside my mouth, and I suck hard. Then he leans in, voice barely above a whisper.
“It’s nice to see you use your mouth for something other than starting shit.”
His cocky attitude pulls me out of my dick hypnosis. Dick-nosis you could say. Then, I remember he planted himself in my life to try and destroy it.
I swipe at my face and give him a death glare.
“Jealous? This was your grand idea. Drug Lee and take her to the fucking woods.” I wave my hands around.
Elliot’s jaw flexes. His hands curl into fists at his sides, then unclench.
“Drug? He drugged you? I’m going to fucking drain the life out of him.”
He didn’t know about Julian’s plan? Maybe. But he’s a master liar, so how would I know what to believe?
I square my shoulders and look up at him.
“Not unless I kill you first, you rat,” I say, and then I launch myself at him.