The Debt (17 page)

“Damn, sweetheart,” I groaned, mumbling against Hadley’s lips as she grabbed a handful of my cock through my jeans.

She shoved me up against the front door after it slammed behind us.

“Don’t you want to lock up first?” I asked.

The drive home from the Nest had been long and difficult as I processed the evening after our gig, and Hadley did her best to distract me from getting us home in one piece.

She squeezed my sac, just on the narrow line between unbearable pain and fantastic pleasure. “If you don’t get in the game, I’m going to start without you.”

Shit.

She tasted of pineapple and coconut rum, her skin warm and salty. Punky dragged her teeth over my bottom lip and tugged; that was about all I could endure. I hoisted her off the ground and moved to pin her against the opposite wall. She wrapped her legs around my hips, using her thighs as leverage as she ground herself on my cock. My cast-wrapped hand held her ass while my left grabbed a handful of her tit.

Pulling Hadley from the wall, I carried her to the living room and sat on the couch with her straddling my lap. First, she was relieved of her shirt and bra. Right away, her hands roamed up my chest to my nipple piercings, where she rolled and flicked them between her fingers. Fucking hell, this woman knew how to touch me.

My shirt followed hers to the floor. Though I was enjoying her attention, I had to grab her wrists to restrain her hands behind her back so I could remove the obstacle between my lips and her tits.

“Shit,” she hissed as I flicked my tongue over one tight peak. “Your tongue piercing. It’s cold.”

I did it again, flicking the ball on the end of the barbell back and forth.

“I want you,” she demanded. “Now.”

“I want your mouth.”

I spoke without reserve or forethought. Hadley stared at me longer than was comfortable in this context.

“Or not,” I offered instead. Really, it wasn’t a deal breaker.

She blinked. A slow smile crossed her lips. Fuck, those lips and the many lewd ways I wanted to use them.

“No, I like the idea,” she answered after what was perhaps the longest silence to follow a request for head in the history of fellatio. “I’m not morally opposed to it or anything.”

“Morally opposed,” I repeated as I wrapped my mind around the concept. “Interesting.”

“That’s a thing,” she insisted.

“I’ll take your word for it.” Not like I was going to argue with her now. I needed her cooperation, and I wanted to get back to the part where she liked this idea.

“It’s just that…” Her eyes dropped from mine.

I released her arms, her fingers wandering over my shoulders. I gave her that, not pushing too hard if she felt the need to retreat.

“I haven’t before,” she said.

“Good.” What other answer was there?

She looked up and rolled her eyes. “You’re such a guy.”

“That can’t be helped.”

Yeah, it was a shitty double standard to want to claim the territory first or beat the living shit out of anyone who had gotten there before me. So what?

Hadley smirked. Her fingers traveled up and down my spine just at the base of my neck. I was damn near shivering.

“Is there a trick to it?” she asked.

“Just like a Popsicle.”

Hadley’s smirk grew menacing.

“Forget that. You chew your Popsicles. Do not bite it off,” I scolded her.

Punky’s answering pout was both adorable and frightening. “Just a nibble?”

“You have no levels between gentle and vicious—your elevator only stops at one and one hundred. No, sweetheart. You can’t be trusted with teeth.”

“You’re no fun.”

“And you’re convincing me that I don’t want my dick sucked.”

She glared, perhaps taking my words as a challenge. “Well, what do you like?”

“There’s no such thing as a bad blow job. Suck and use lots of tongue.”

Okay, I had heard plenty of tales of poor performances. Short of throwing up while going down on a guy, how bad could those experiences have been? Something about a woman swallowing my cock just struck me as a fucking miracle every time it happened. Divine goddamn intervention.

“So...” Hadley’s eyes roamed. “What, like now?”

“Do I need to make an appointment?”

“That would be handy. Gives me time to prepare.”

“Prepare? Fuck, Punky. You know what? Forget I mentioned it.” I moved to lift her off me.

“No, no.” She pushed my shoulders back to the couch, insisting I stay put. “Now’s good. I don’t have plans. Well, I do, but I figure the one naturally leads to the other, so this is good.”

“This is more than stupid. And you’re drunk. I think you might be killing my wood.”

“Is that like reverse psychology? ‘Don’t suck my dick.’ And then I’m all like, ‘No, I’m going to blow you and you’re going to sit there and love it.’”

“Okay, seriously. This is the dumbest conversation I’ve ever had.”

“No way,” the crazy girl in my lap argued. “I can get way dumber.”

“Damn, woman. I swear I’m not baiting you. Stop turning everything into a fight.”

“So does that mean you want me to argue?” Hadley huffed, tossing her hair over her bare shoulder. “Honestly, Josh. I can’t keep up with deciphering all of your mixed signals.”

That was quite enough. Overpowering her, I laid Hadley over my lap and ripped her jeans and underwear down her ass in one swift movement. Her beautiful, soft flesh looked so inviting.

“Punky, shut the fuck up.”

“Hey. That’s not—”

I bit her ass cheek. Hard.

She yelped but didn’t try to escape. “You’re an animal, you know that?”

Holding her in place with one arm over her lower back, I reached down to free my cock from my jeans. I exhaled, the pressure finally relieved and yet not nearly gone. My dick lay against my abdomen.

Since my broken right hand was useless when it came to touching her in a pleasurable way, I used my left to slide two fingers through her slit. She was wet, her muscles pulsing as she clenched with need. One finger brushed over her clit and her entire body seized with anticipation. I worked my fingers back and forth, massaging her. Hadley whimpered.

I rubbed her pussy, increasing the pressure against her clit. She muffled a moan and pushed back against my hand. I leaned forward and dragged my teeth over her delicate flesh. I didn’t bite hard, just a little tug. My dick twitched and I reached down to rub myself against her thigh. Hadley’s back rose and fell on her deep, heavy breaths. I liked her this way: riled, needy, longing for my touch to get her off. No sense torturing her.

Palming her ass, I moved my fingers back to her cunt. I was gentle at first, priming her. But my intention wasn’t tenderness. No, I wanted to see her leave claw marks in the leather.

With my right arm holding her still over her lower back, I plunged two fingers to the last knuckle with increasing severity. The harder I pumped, the more she tried to push back, fucking herself against my hand. I watched, enthralled by the sight of her ass bouncing across my lap, her thigh nudging at my cock.

“Faster,” she whimpered. “So close.”

Determined to get her there, I worked my fingers inside her, finding the spots that made her jump and her entire body seize and quiver. Her back bowed. I held her as she writhed through her orgasm.

“Lie down,” she told me. Her hair was stuck to her face, a trickle of sweat down her spine, and her cheeks flushed red. “Lie down.”

The goddess of blow jobs did exist and I saw her in that moment. I was her faithful fucking disciple.

I shifted around to rest lengthwise with my head toward one end of the couch. I didn’t say a word or move a muscle as she pulled my jeans and boxers down to fully expose my cock. She took it in one hand, stroking me, then licked across the tip, dipping the end of her tongue along the slit. My hips bucked of their own accord. My cock knew where it wanted to be, but I told myself to hold back and let her get comfortable.

Hadley ran her tongue over the crown, along my piercing, and up the length of my dick from root to tip, tracing the thick vein. Without hesitation, she softly sucked the head, pumping me in her fist. Little by little, she took me deeper.

I had my first mild heart attack when Hadley lightly dragged her teeth over the head of my cock. I was so done for. She owned me. I was her eager man-slave. I was also about to come all over her if she didn’t cut that out.

“You’re too good at this.” I held the side of her face, urging her to stop. “I might have a damn stroke, so let me fuck you one last time before I die.”

Hadley crawled down the couch and pulled my pants from my legs. Undressed, she sat atop me, facing away. I gripped my cock in my left hand as I dragged the head through her swollen sex. I held myself in place and guided her with my other hand. She slid down, engulfing me in liquid heat and silky softness.

She was so damn tight, already squeezing my dick as she adjusted. I held her hips while she rose up and descended again—slow at first, rocking back and forth, and finding all the places I could touch buried inside her. I watched, enraptured, as her ass bounced on my cock. Content to let Hadley do as she pleased, I relaxed and enjoyed, gripping her round bottom to see my handprints emerge and fade.

“Josh,” she whimpered. Hadley’s pace increased. She dropped down on my dick with greater force, impaling herself in earnest.

“What do you need?”

“You,” she panted.

I sat up just enough to wrap my arm around her waist and pull her backward to rest against my chest.

“Bend your knees,” I instructed. “Spread your legs.”

I draped my right arm over her abdomen, my other across her chest to grip her shoulder.

“Anything,” I whispered against her ear, licking at her neck. “Everything I am, Hadley.”

I thrust up, filling her in one strong motion. She moaned, writhing. Her hands fumbled to find somewhere to go, eventually coming up above our heads to grab the edge of the armrest. My hand over her stomach moved lower, rubbing her clit as her deep moans turned to desperate cries.

Feeling her muscles pulse around me, I pinched her clit as I thrust deep and held there, embedded. She tensed, her body seized by spasms, and my name pouring from her lips. Hadley jerked in my arms. I clutched her tighter while her cunt milked me.

“I’m coming,” I mumbled, bracing myself for the pleasure and the terrible side effects.

My face buried in her hair, I clenched my eyes shut and held my breath against the visions that assaulted me. Still pumping in short strokes, my body disconnected from my mind, I spilled inside her while trying to force the sickness away.

I still flinched when her hands came up to cradle my face. Too warm and freezing at once, I wanted to crawl out of my own skin and into hers. I wanted to throw up. Really needed to. I swallowed over and over again in an attempt to stay the reflex. No matter what else happened, I wouldn’t destroy Hadley and the gift she gave me by letting her see me empty my stomach every time we made love. That was too much to ask her to endure.

I woke in Hadley’s bed, the room dark, with that strange uncertainty if it had been a dream or reality that jolted me from sleep. Reaching over, my hand fell to an empty pillow. Her side of the bed was cold. I rubbed my eyes, looking toward the bathroom. Not there.

Sliding out of bed, I grabbed my boxers from the floor and slipped them on before walking out. Just as my foot hit the first step on the staircase, I heard the shattering sound of glass breaking on the hardwood floor.

On instinct, I darted into my room, pulled out the lockbox from my nightstand, and pushed the loaded clip into my Beretta. Hugging the wall, I descended the stairs. Streams of white poured into the foyer from the security lights at the front of the house, the backside likewise illuminated by floodlights.

In front of the sliding glass doors that led to the back porch, I found Hadley dressed in my sweatshirt, sitting in a constellation of broken glass and rocking back and forth. I clicked the safety on and lowered my gun, hiding it behind my back.

“Hadley?” I approached her from the landing at the base of the stairs, taking several tentative strides to reach her. “What’s wrong?” I stopped, backing up to slide on a pair of shoes and grab her sandals from the foyer. “Punky? It’s me.”

She didn’t acknowledge me, staring out the window into the yard. Close enough now, I recognized the blue shards of a vase that had once sat on the end table by the couch. Not a single knickknack of my mother’s had ever been moved or rearranged in the house since her death. I forced myself not to react to the broken memento.

“Sweetheart.”

When my shoe crunched on the glass, Hadley’s head jerked up. I placed my hand on her shoulder and she tensed, flinching away.

“What’s wrong?”

“I did it wrong,” she replied in a tired voice. “I can’t fix it. I can’t finish and I can’t go back.” In a sudden fit, her fist launched at the wall. She didn’t react to the pain, sitting otherwise motionless.

That explained the vase.

“I’m stuck.”

“How long have you been sitting here?” I crouched down, rubbing one hand up and down her arm.

“I don’t know.” Her voice broke. “I can’t fix it.”

“Let me help.”

I set the gun down to wrap my arms around her. The second it hit the floor, Hadley’s attention snapped to the object. She jerked away.

“It’s okay. It’s okay,” I insisted as she tried to get away. I slid the gun across the floor until it disappeared into the kitchen. “You’re safe, Hadley.” I shifted to meet her eyes, holding her face between my hands. “Do you understand? You’re safe. I watched you, like I always watch. You know I wouldn’t let you miss anything, right? All the doors are locked, the windows tight, and the alarm is set. It’s just us, sweetheart. I promise.”

“I have to check the rest of the locks,” she insisted in a panicked voice, “but I can’t move. Something’s wrong with this one. I can’t—something’s different.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t know!” she shouted. The sudden outburst cut through the room and echoed off the walls of the empty house. “I don’t know why this lock feels different. I don’t know why it woke me up. I don’t know why I have to sit here and stare at it but can’t just check it and move on. I don’t fucking know!”

“It’s okay, Hadley. I’ll help. We’ll start again. I’ll stay with you the whole time, okay?”

“No,” she snapped. “This one is different. I can’t— You don’t understand. I know what every lock in this house sounds like, feels like when it clicks. This one,” she enunciated, pointing with one rigid finger at the sliding glass door, “is not the same.”

“I believe you,” I answered. “Tell me what to do to fix it.”

“I. Don’t. Know!”

She aimed for the wall again, but this time I caught her wrist to stop her. One broken hand in this house was enough.

At a loss for better options, I took a deep breath and prepared myself for war. Giving her no chance to fight me off, I hoisted Hadley into my arms. She struggled, kicking and yelling at me to put her down. She fought me, but I suffered through it until I got up the stairs and dumped her on her bed. She ran for the door. I forced her out of the way to lock it, throwing all my weight up against it to keep her there.

“What are you doing?” she yelled.

“I needed my phone and I wasn’t going to leave you alone.”

We stood inches apart. Her chest heaved with frantic breaths. I knew I was torturing her, but it couldn’t be helped.

“Hand me the phone,” I said.

“Get it yourself.”

“Damn it, Hadley. Fucking give me the damn phone. I’m not letting you out this door.”

She growled, huffed, stomped, and then chucked my phone at my head. I caught it in my right hand and winced at the pain. She had quite an arm on her. Scrolling down my contact list, I made the call. It rang five times.

“Dude, what the hell?”

It was 4:00 a.m. after a gig. Corey was not pleased to hear from me.

“I need your help. Are you sober?”

He’d left the bar earlier than the rest of us, so I had hope.

“Yeah,” he answered. He coughed over the sound of sheets rustling. “What’s up?”

“I need a new lock for the sliding glass door. Can you go to Walmart and bring it over? I’ll pay you back.”

“What happened? Where are you?”

“Home. I’d go myself but I can’t leave Hadley here and I can’t take her out. We’re fine, but this needs to be done now.”

“Yeah, okay. Whatever you need. I’ll see you in like an hour and a half.”

“Thank you,” I answered with relief. “I owe you big.”

“No, you don’t.” He hung up.

Hadley sat silent on her bed, legs curled up to her chest.

“Will this make it better? You can watch us install it and test it out and everything. Is this is okay?”

Out of an abundance of caution, I texted Corey:

Get every kind of lock they have.

I looked back to Hadley, hoping I hadn’t dragged him out of bed for no reason. She just stared at me.

“Sweetheart.” I approached with caution. It was a real possibility that she’d slug me or kick me in the nuts. “I’ll stay right here and wait with you. I’ll do anything you want. But I’m not letting you go back down there to drive yourself crazy.”

I waited, searching for any indication that I was doing something right or making a huge mistake.

“Hadley?”

“Play for me,” she whispered. “Anything. Just sit here and play for me.”

“As you wish,” I answered with a wink. “Can I trust you if I grab my guitar from my room?”

She nodded. Because I wasn’t convinced, I ran between rooms and back, closing the door behind me. Hadley sat against the headboard and pulled the covers over her legs. I sat facing her, one foot on the floor as I pulled the pick from the first fret and began to strum a guitar version of the first song I’d written for her. Hadley closed her eyes, her fists clenched in her lap so hard her knuckles turned white.

I had just slipped back into bed when Hadley stirred. Like a cat, she coiled up in a ball around me, then stretched the length of the bed. She looked up through red, tired eyes.

“What time is it?”

“A little after seven,” I answered. “You fell asleep and I didn’t want to wake you.” I brushed her hair back from her face, letting my fingers slide down her neck. “The new lock is on. The old one was rusted out. Some pin in the latching mechanism broke and lodged in there.”

“It’s fine,” she mumbled. She lay her head down again, closing her eyes as her hand skimmed across my chest. “Thank you.”

“Of course, sweetheart.” I brushed my fingers through her hair, content that the stress had passed.

“I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“Don’t make vague statements that scare the shit out of me this early in the morning.”

“Sorry.” She draped her leg over my hip. Her fingers stroked down my abdomen and back again. “I don’t want to do my thing anymore. I don’t want you to let me do it.”

That wasn’t a fuckload of responsibility or anything.

“Okay.” I didn’t know what else to say.

“I mean it,” Hadley insisted.

“I believe you.”

“You’re not going to say anything?”

“What should I say?”

“I think this is a pretty big deal. Don’t you want to ask why or…something?”

“Why?”

“Forget it,” she huffed. Hadley rolled over, turning away from me.

Oh, fuck that.

“Hey.” I grabbed her shoulder and forced her to look at me. “I’m right here. I’m listening. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

Her expression softened, but not as much as I would have liked. She’d woken up in a bad mood.

“I had to move out of Tom’s house to feed this thing,” she said. “I invaded your house and forced myself on Simon.”

I was about to tell her she was an idiot for thinking any such thing, but her glare told me to hold my tongue.

“You spent a fortune rigging this house like Guantanamo, and on top of that you spent years rearranging your whole life to fit my habits. I hated that. I hate it now. Depending on how much of a dick you were being that day,” she said with a smirk, “I hated it a little less.”

That was fair.

“But dragging Corey out of bed at four in the morning is seriously the last straw. I’m sick of myself, you know? I don’t want to be this way anymore.”

“That all makes perfect sense to me,” I said. “But don’t spend a second worrying about Corey, my dad, and especially not me. Screw that noise. We love you. Four in the morning or two in the afternoon, it doesn’t fucking matter. If you’re serious about this, I’ll do whatever you need. I just want you to make this decision for you and not anyone else.”

Hadley nodded, biting her lip while she seemed to contemplate that for a moment. “I’ve thought about it for a while. There was a chance I was going to move out.”

I didn’t need the reminder.

“I figured I’d just go cold turkey. Maybe it’d feel different in a new city.” She sighed, looking away. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Point is I want to quit.”

“What do you need from me?” I wrapped my arm around her waist to pull her closer. “I can talk to my dad. He’ll help us find a therapist.”

She shook her head. “No. I can’t do therapy. I don’t want pills and stupid breathing exercises or whatever else. That would just be substituting one crutch for another. I have to do this my way.”

“Okay.”

“Don’t let me,” she said. “No matter how bad it gets—I’m going to have shitty days—don’t let me cheat. Don’t let me beg or bargain and guilt you into backing off.”

“Straight detox is it, then?”

“Yep.”

“Will you still love me if I have to tie you up and sit on you?”

Hadley smiled, weaving one hand into my hair and scratching her nails over my scalp. “Will you still love me if I turn into a raging bitch?”

“If?”

She tugged my hair hard. Hadley rolled over me, straddling my hips. “You’ll pay for that one.”

“Do your worst, sweetheart.” I grabbed her hips, pressing her down on my groin. “I’ll lie here and take it like a man.”

“Damn right.”

“Punky?” I took her face in my good hand, running my thumb over her cheek. “I love you. I’m proud of you. And no matter what happens, I’m always here.”

“Fuck, MacKay. Go fish your balls out of my backpack, will ya?”

“That’s my girl.”