rhythmic and steady.
He turns his head to watch her. He wonders if he can make an exit. Technically, he is being paid to spend the night with her, but he knows he has got to be getting back to Abby.
If Abby is still there, he thinks soberly.
He groans.
I have been so stupid. Stupid.
Abby literally gave you your life back, you stupid hustler, and this is how you repay her – by storming out just because she wasn’t forthcoming to you about some painful things in her life, and because she loved you enough to be jealous of the woman who has bound and left her marks on you.
If the situation had been reversed, he would have probably done the same. If Abby was peddling her body and she had some sugar daddy john who was beating her black and blue, he would probably be incensed enough to hunt the guy down and shell out a dose of what the guy had been giving her.
He should call her cellphone. He should apologize before it’s too late. Funny how a bout of unsatisfactory professional sex can make him see the light.
He gingerly gets off the bed, determined not to wake Claire. His balls wobble as he swings his long legs. He puts his feet onto the ground, careful not to depress the mattress too much. Then he pads in his bare feet to his clothes, thrown in an untidy pile on the floor. His cellphone is in his back pocket, rubbing surfaces with the five hundred tainted dollars.
He retrieves his cellphone and goes to the adjoined bathroom. He softly closes the door.
Inside, he dials Abby’s number.
Come on, pick up, pick up, he wills it.
But the phone keeps ringing, and after a w hile, it goes to voicemail.
Devon frowns. He shoots off a quick text message: So sorry I ran out on you. Please forgive me. Coming back soon. Miss you lots. XXX
He presses ‘SEND’, and then waits.
And waits.
OK, she’s really mad at you. It’s all your fault. What did you expect?
Or maybe she’s asleep. Or maybe she went out and left her phone behind. After all, you don’t expect her to sit around and wait for you to show up, do you now?
Sighing, he goes out of the bathroom. He dresses as silently as possible, still watching Claire as she sleeps. He knows he has exhausted her with his merciless hammering – the way she likes it. She wanted him to go all Neanderthal on her. ‘To take her the way a woman should be taken,’ as she puts it.
Her sexual appetite was extra voracious, and he can remember her teeth sinking into his shoulder as he grinded himself into her pussy. He chalked it down to what she said – nothing like the death of someone close to remind you that you had to live your life vigorously.
He glances at the wastebasket once again to make sure his jizz hasn’t spilled out. Something shiny at the bottom of the bin catches his eye.
He bends down for a closer look.
It is a gold embossed card that says: JJ FLOYD. His used condom with its pale semen lies on top of it like a sad reminder of what he does for a living.
Devon dis misses the card.
He dresses swiftly and quietly, and lets himself out of the apartment, shutting the door as he does so. He knows the door will auto-lock itself. He certainly doesn’t want any intruders slipping into Claire’s apartment and taking her apart.
CABIN
It was three months later after she had first brought Ari back for that disastrous family dinner. Meanwhile, Ari and Abby had drifted apart. It was one of those things that might or might not have been triggered by her father.
She made the mistake of telling Ari that her father wanted her to stay away from him.
He shook his head. “They’re all the same.”
“What do you mean?”
His dark eyes held hers steadily. “I don’t think you are that naïve, Abby cakes.”
She felt her cheeks burn. “My father is not like that.”
“Our parents are a lot of things we don’t want them to be. I don’t think you have ever noticed it because you’ve lived in Cat’s Creek all your life, and there aren’t many Jewish people
He turns his head to watch her. He wonders if he can make an exit. Technically, he is being paid to spend the night with her, but he knows he has got to be getting back to Abby.
If Abby is still there, he thinks soberly.
He groans.
I have been so stupid. Stupid.
Abby literally gave you your life back, you stupid hustler, and this is how you repay her – by storming out just because she wasn’t forthcoming to you about some painful things in her life, and because she loved you enough to be jealous of the woman who has bound and left her marks on you.
If the situation had been reversed, he would have probably done the same. If Abby was peddling her body and she had some sugar daddy john who was beating her black and blue, he would probably be incensed enough to hunt the guy down and shell out a dose of what the guy had been giving her.
He should call her cellphone. He should apologize before it’s too late. Funny how a bout of unsatisfactory professional sex can make him see the light.
He gingerly gets off the bed, determined not to wake Claire. His balls wobble as he swings his long legs. He puts his feet onto the ground, careful not to depress the mattress too much. Then he pads in his bare feet to his clothes, thrown in an untidy pile on the floor. His cellphone is in his back pocket, rubbing surfaces with the five hundred tainted dollars.
He retrieves his cellphone and goes to the adjoined bathroom. He softly closes the door.
Inside, he dials Abby’s number.
Come on, pick up, pick up, he wills it.
But the phone keeps ringing, and after a w hile, it goes to voicemail.
Devon frowns. He shoots off a quick text message: So sorry I ran out on you. Please forgive me. Coming back soon. Miss you lots. XXX
He presses ‘SEND’, and then waits.
And waits.
OK, she’s really mad at you. It’s all your fault. What did you expect?
Or maybe she’s asleep. Or maybe she went out and left her phone behind. After all, you don’t expect her to sit around and wait for you to show up, do you now?
Sighing, he goes out of the bathroom. He dresses as silently as possible, still watching Claire as she sleeps. He knows he has exhausted her with his merciless hammering – the way she likes it. She wanted him to go all Neanderthal on her. ‘To take her the way a woman should be taken,’ as she puts it.
Her sexual appetite was extra voracious, and he can remember her teeth sinking into his shoulder as he grinded himself into her pussy. He chalked it down to what she said – nothing like the death of someone close to remind you that you had to live your life vigorously.
He glances at the wastebasket once again to make sure his jizz hasn’t spilled out. Something shiny at the bottom of the bin catches his eye.
He bends down for a closer look.
It is a gold embossed card that says: JJ FLOYD. His used condom with its pale semen lies on top of it like a sad reminder of what he does for a living.
Devon dis misses the card.
He dresses swiftly and quietly, and lets himself out of the apartment, shutting the door as he does so. He knows the door will auto-lock itself. He certainly doesn’t want any intruders slipping into Claire’s apartment and taking her apart.
CABIN
It was three months later after she had first brought Ari back for that disastrous family dinner. Meanwhile, Ari and Abby had drifted apart. It was one of those things that might or might not have been triggered by her father.
She made the mistake of telling Ari that her father wanted her to stay away from him.
He shook his head. “They’re all the same.”
“What do you mean?”
His dark eyes held hers steadily. “I don’t think you are that naïve, Abby cakes.”
She felt her cheeks burn. “My father is not like that.”
“Our parents are a lot of things we don’t want them to be. I don’t think you have ever noticed it because you’ve lived in Cat’s Creek all your life, and there aren’t many Jewish people
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