Still Into You: A Novel (Better Than Series Book 3) (7 page)

BOOK: Still Into You: A Novel (Better Than Series Book 3)
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“No, we only exchanged a few words,” Jules’ forehead is pinched and furrowed, “Why?”

“It was Randall.” I state without emotion.  I can’t have any emotion.  I’m not letting myself, because I don’t know which one will overtake me right now.  Or maybe I’m just in shock.

“What? No. No, that wasnnnt… Oh my god! That
was
Randall!”  Jules is shrieking.  I am silent. “He looked different.  I mean, I’ve never met him, but he didn’t look like the pictures I’ve seen.  Biz, Jesus!  What are you gonna do?”

What am I going to do?  What
am
I going to do?  I let the emotions come.  First, I start shaking, then I think I’m about to cry, but I don’t.  I count and exhale.  It all turns and I grit my teeth together, swallow hard and let the anger come.  No more crying.  I AM NOT going to panic.  This is the moment when I could easily spiral down, fall apart.  Suddenly, with laser-like focus, I know what I have to do.  I say, mostly to myself, “ENOUGH!”  I turn to Jules, Clay, Jack and Quarter and tell them purposefully, “Come on.  We’re leaving.  Now!  I have to make a phone call.”  I know precisely to whom I need to talk.

***

I go in a completely new and liberating direction with my plan of action. When pushed, human nature dictates – people will first act the way you expect – then if pushed further they will zigzag off course and do something completely out of character.

My first response, so far in my life, to an emotionally challenging event, is to cry and run away. But not this time.  This time I’m zigzagging. This time I’m not waiting for anyone to tell me what to do. I’m not going to try to hatch a plan in isolation.  No. This time I’m calling in back-up.  I’m rallying my troops to make sure Randall Ireland never hurts any girl again.

I explained the Randall situation to Clay on the way back to the condo.  I have Jules, Jack and Quarter on speakerphone on my cell, so they can hear, too.  The boys are livid.  They can’t believe, as they say, “that fucker has gotten away with this.”  Jules and I decide we will go straight up to the condo, just to be safe.  Clay volunteers to walk us up, but then insists that he and the other guys hang out downstairs by the pool and in the lobby to make sure nobody has followed us.  And they want to call the police.  I encourage them all to hold off until I can make a phone call.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 9-Present:  Vacation’s Over

 

 

 

I don’t call Davis.

I don’t call Dr. Matt.

“Hell … (yawn)o,” a sleepy female voice answers the phone, surprising me.  Crap! It’s three o’clock in the morning.  I’m so wrapped up in what I want and need to do, I didn’t even think before I dialed his number.

I reply, “Hello, Um, Hi, This is Biz Connelly-Brandon.  I was, umm, looking for Donovan Garrett, Detective Garrett…”

The woman on the end suddenly becomes very serious, “Yes, sure…Biz, hi, this is Posey.  Posey Garrett.  I’m Donnie’s wife.  We met at a charity event one time.”  Then I hear her whisper, “Donnie, babe, wake up.”  Then a little louder, “DON-O-VAN, Wake up! It’s Biz Connelly.”  She returns to talking to me, “Biz, he’s coming to the phone.  He was out late on a case.”  I can hear unintelligible words and grumbling in the background.

The voice on the other end of the phone changes to a deeper, gravely one, “Biz, what’s up?  It’s three-o-five in the fucking morning. This better be good.”

“Donnie, he’s here.”  It’s all I need to say.

“Randall Ireland?” Donnie asks for confirmation, vocal roughness gone.

I note how calm and even my response is.

“Yes. Randall Ireland is here.”

***

“Okay, bye.  Two days.  My condo,” I finish my lengthy call with Donnie, throw my phone across the bed, burying it in the pillows and lean forward, covering my face with both hands.  I don’t know if I’m praying or begging.  I just hope this plan works.

There is a soft ‘click.’  I pull my hands away from my face, look at the carpet and slide my eyes across the floor to where the ‘click’ came from – the door.

At the end of my visual trek, I’m met with a pair of bare feet.  A pair of bare feet I know and love well.  I can’t believe those feet are here.  I follow the feet up to the face I also know and love well.  Davis.  He’s early.  I didn’t expect him until tomorrow, which, technically, it is. 

Davis tilts his head, pushes his lips into a tight line and surveys me with his breathtaking green eyes.  Even with concern in them, they are devastating.  Without words, he’s asking me how I am.  It’s amazing, but those zaps and buzzes I felt early in our relationship whenever I saw him, overtake me now, filling my chest with anticipation.  I feel my heart pumping wildly.  Relief and excitement twirl around into a tornado of emotion.  I push my hands down on either side of me and launch myself off the edge of the bed, flying into Davis’ arms.

I slam into Davis, pushing him up against the door behind him.  I can’t get close enough as I crush him, throwing my arms around his neck and grasping his hair with my fingers.

“Hey, Hey, baby.  Lizard, baby… Jules told me.  You saw Randall” Davis says, comfortingly.  I’m not crying, but my relief can’t be held back.  I let out a long cleansing sigh and melt into Davis.  He rubs my back with his thumbs until my breathing becomes more controlled.  Finally, he pulls me back slightly, pressing our foreheads together and asks, “How are you?”

How am I?

I’m scared. I’m (slightly) anxious and panicky. I’m angry… really angry, but after talking to Donnie and now, being in Davis’ arms, I’m EMPOWERED. 

I don’t answer with words.  I lightly kiss Davis.  It’s all I want right now.  I’ve missed him so much.  More than I realized.  Our kisses escalate, longer, slower until I beg with my tongue for him to open his mouth.  Davis willingly accepts the offer and soon our lips and tongues are sliding and sucking deeply at each other.  Our kisses become crushing and full of painful passion.  I just want to feel him and from his response he does, too.  I reach around behind Davis and turn the lock on the bedroom door.

Davis reacts to my unspoken direction in a snap and wraps his arms tightly around my waist, lifting me so my feet are just off the floor.  I’m fused against the entire length of his body.  I can feel his erection against my lower abdomen.  Davis must be able to feel my sharpened nipples through my shirt, as well as the heat that must be meeting his erection below.

As he walks us back across the room to the bed Davis asks hotly, “Are you sure?  You don’t want to talk?  You’re okay?”

“No talking.  Not now.  I just need to be with you.  I need to feel strong,” I reply as he lies me down across the width of the king-sized bed.  Davis and I waste no time.  I rip open his button snap short sleeve denim shirt and rake it over his shoulders and off of him.  I want to feel him, naked, against me. Now. Davis’ hands reach down for the hem of my sundress and in one adept move, remove it up and over my head.  As my hands fumble to get rid of his khaki cargo shorts, Davis’ lips are all over my face, his strong, capable hands cradling my head.  They don’t stay there long before he moves them down to cup my breasts, dragging his roughened thumbs over my achy nipples.  I arch into him, while my hand slips into his boxer briefs to stroke his throbbing, ready to engage cock.  I hum with happiness.  Fuck everything negative.  I’m taking control of my life.  I push the plans made with Donovan out of my thoughts and focus fully on taking control of Davis.

Once I’ve rid Davis of all his clothes, I become even more assertive.  I roll, so Davis is now beneath me.  Crawling downward, beginning at his collarbone, I kiss across and down his firm, muscled chest.  I breathe in his warm, spicy, slightly sweaty scent and blow my hot breath down, down over the hills of abs until I reach my destination.

Feeling Davis’ hardness in my mouth, I’m quickly over the edge. My hands slide slowly across his hips, my thumbs at the place where the muscular “V” ends.  My core is flaming, slick, needy.  Davis intuitively knows and as I lick, swirl and plunge my mouth onto him, he reaches down and after deftly making my panties disappear, slides a long finger into me.  His thumb presses and strokes my now blossoming clit.  I plunge once more down to take Davis as far as I can into my mouth without gagging.  I pull up to attend to the warm crest of his cock, swirling my tongue around it several times, before powering into the notch with extreme suction.  Davis moans loudly.  His fingers and thumbs stop moving.  I can feel he is getting close and I want him in me when he comes.  I want to be drowning in his green eyes and screaming his name.

I release Davis’ cock from my lips after a few more deep kisses.  Davis is sprawled across the bed panting.  He reaches up to hold my hips, his large hands cupping my ass, to guide me onto him.  He pushes up and in as I grind my vibrating core down to make the exquisite connection.  Straddling Davis, I take him into me.  I contract around him and after I feel him fully seated within me, my body spontaneously clenches and releases.  I groan with pleasure and relief.  Davis continues to guide my hips, rocking and thrusting.  He slips one hand forward and again finds my clit.  Again, he presses, releases, circles, presses, releases. 

My build up is becoming evident.  I lick at the fine sheen of sweat accumulating on my upper lip, then I bite my lower to hold the sensation back until it’s time to let it go.  Davis’ other hand goes to one of my breasts, his fingers extending and stretching my nipple.  I could come with just that slightly painful move.  I arch into his hands, both upper and lower, supporting myself with my hands behind me on Davis’ thighs.  Davis’ hands, thumbs, cock are hitting all the right places.  Suddenly, Davis sits up and sucks my breast into his mouth licking and sucking violently, both his hands go back to my ass, bringing us impossibly close together.  He thrusts deeply and powerfully.  I stop breathing for a moment and let go, coming for him.  I scream Davis’ name… “DAY-A-VUS!!”

Everything goes fuzzy, then black.

***

My vision returns after a few moments and as Davis pulls out I collapse next to and partially on top of him on the bed.

“Mav… I think I passed out for a few seconds.  Did I pass out?” I ask.

Davis chuckles and pulls me even more on top of him, “You’re eyes were sort of far away and then they rolled back.  I’m guessing that felt pretty good, huh?”

“Amazing, powerful, just what I’ve been missing and needing,” I answer.

“Yeah, you ‘Googled’ me pretty damn good, Lizard.  I may need to go away more often,” Davis says with mock seriousness.

I freeze. 
              Davis senses my tension, “What?”

“No, thank you,” I tell him sincerely, meeting his eyes dead on. 

The truth is, after my discussion with Donnie, Davis may need to “go away.”  I drop my gaze and then my head to the space between his jaw and shoulder.  I sigh and breathe him in. 

So missed. 

It’s time.  I need to tell him the plan Donnie and I have come up with.  And I need his blessing to make it happen.

I lift my head a tiny bit and kiss Davis jaw right below the ear, enjoying the roughness of his scruffiness.  I formulate the words to start this most difficult of conversations, when there is a percussive assault on my ears.  It sounds like a million fists are pounding at the door to the bedroom.

“Biz, Davis, get up, open up… something’s happened” Jules is yelling through the door frantically.

The rapid knocking doesn’t let up.  Now, Charlie’s voice joins Jules’, “Davis, man, let us in.  NOW!”  I’ve never heard him sound so very concerned.  There’s a darkness in Charlie’s voice that’s scaring me.

Davis looks up at me, his eyes wide, brow furrowed and slides me gently to the side of him.  He’s up and pulling his jeans over his nakedness in seconds.  He snatches his t-shirt from the bedroom floor and as I sit up, he throws it to me, indicating I should put it on.  Davis marches toward the door.  I fumble around in the sheets, retrieve my panties and slide them up my legs and into position just as he opens the door. 

Charlie and Jules are standing in the threshold, both of them with their hands covered in blood.

I hear screaming and painful moans from behind them.

I rush up to join Davis and can see where the noise is coming from behind my bloody friends.

Jules shrieks out, “It’s Quarter!  Randall attacked him!”

Davis and I must both be is shock, because we just stare at one another for a moment open mouthed.

Davis asks to no one and everyone, “Who’s Quarter?”  He gets no reply.

Again, I feel the storm of emotions I did at The Lucky Snapper, but with more rapidity. Panic. Here, then gone.  Fear.  Again, only for a moment.  Anger.  HERE.  Present.  Now unabated. 

Darkly, I voice what everyone already knows, “He’s here.” Meaning Randall.

All present silently acknowledge with nods of their head.  I know they are all waiting for me to freak out, but I’m not.  While I
am
scared, I know that Randall trying to get to me means he is desperate.  He’s right in the headspace where Donnie and I need him to be.  I smile.

Jules says something so uncharacteristic of her, “Why the fuck are you smiling, Biz?  That lunatic is here.  On the resort grounds.  Only moments ago he was just a few floors away.”

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