Rook

It's almost two PM and Ines is still sleeping. I woke up at dawn and roused her too, because I needed some more of what only she can give me. I've been with more women than I remember the faces of since she disappeared on me—no, since that scrawny piece of shit took her from me—but none of them ever made me come the way she does. It's more than just physical, it's mental too. And when I tell her so, it's not an exaggeration, not just a line I'm feeding her like I might with other women to keep them happy. I learned a long time ago that the ladies are a lot easier to get along with if you flatter them, but I don't even have to try when flattering Ines, it just comes naturally. As does waking up with a raging hard on for her. This one, I've had for hours.

But I don't want to wake her up again. She had a full blown panic attack when I did it at dawn, took almost ten minutes to remember where we were and why, and then she spent the next fifteen minutes getting all worked up over acting like a crazy woman. She's always been a fireball in all ways, and it was nice to see some of that coming back this morning. But it was also hurtful as fuck when she didn’t recognize me.

I'm gonna kill that motherfucker for taking my confident and wild Ines and turning her into this trembling woman who's afraid of fucking breathing too loud. I still see who she really is, but it's very hidden by this toy he made out of her. I never had any respect for men who need to make women their playthings. It's too much like playing with dolls and what the hell kinda man plays with dolls?

I want a woman, a queen, and that's what Ines always was even at eighteen. But he seems to have beaten that out of her, and he'll pay for it. Just as soon as I clear it with Cross and get her to Sanctuary where she'll be safe. I'll kill him so no one will ever know it was us, and then we'll all be safe.

But I'm not gonna do it just yet. First I'm gonna live in this sleepy seaside town with her for awhile. Like we should've done all those years ago. See if I can bring back the woman she used to be. But even if that's all gone forever, I'll still keep her. I'll take her any way she is, because there's no living without her for me.

I move out of her line of sight as she starts moving on the bed, so she won't get freaked out by seeing me again. It pissed me off so bad when it happened earlier that I couldn't get back to sleep even after she dozed off again, and I don't want a repeat of that.

But this time, her droopy eyes zero in on me immediately and she smiles, sits up, her hair a wild mess around her heart shaped face. I can't help smiling too and I don't smile much, only for children, and apart from Cross' daughter Lily, I haven't been around many of those.

"What time is it?" she asks, letting her feet dangle off the side of the bed, but covering her nakedness with the sheet.

I check my wristwatch, even though I just did that. But I feel like a school kid caught looking at a teacher's boobs as I try to see hers. Ines is the only woman who ever made me self-conscious like that since I was actually a school kid.

"A little past two," I say. "You slept like a log."

"Two?" she shrieks. "And you just let me sleep? Why?"

I shrug. It's my go-to response when she lays into me over something or other that has no real consequence. She used to do that a lot. It's a Hispanic thing and they're all pretty much the same when it comes to it. But I only ever gave a damn when it came from Ines.

"You seemed like you needed it," I tell her, have to swallow a little as she gets up and walks over with the sheet draped around her. She's a spectacularly attractive woman, with her hourglass figure and everything on her shapely and round. I wanted her the moment I saw her standing in the surf wearing a pair of cut off jean shorts and a bikini top. She was sexy as hell then and she still is. It took a little longer to convince her she wanted me too, but once she did, once her eyes looked at me with that same desire and need I have for her, I was a goner for good. She's looking at me like that now, as she glides her hand up my chest, stands on her tiptoes and kisses my cheek. She only breaks eye-contact while her soft lips and hot breath touch my lips, but then she's looking into my eyes again, the gold in them swirling, keeping me locked in space, rooted to the spot.

"I'm sorry about this morning, Rook," she says. "I was having a bad dream and you startled me-"

I slip my hand off her shoulder and lay my thumb against her lips. She already told me this at least fifty times this morning. "I get it, Ines. I know you're not scared of me, and that bastard will pay for giving you bad dreams."

I told her this at least fifty times already too.

She blinks fast as I say it, but then her eyes harden like melted chocolate turning solid, right before she gives me the most seductive, dirty look I've ever seen. Or felt for that matter, because it makes my already painfully hard cock twitch and grow bigger still.

"But I think my bad dream interrupted something this morning," she says coyly. "Something you wanted from me, and it’s gonna happen now."

She gives me that same dirty look and smiles, slipping out of my embrace and letting the sheet fall. She looks good covered up, but she looks best naked. Her plump, dark red nipples are perfect for sucking on, and I love watching my fingers make dents in the soft flesh of her stomach, her hips, her ass and her thighs. I don't want to see her scars, but I do. Yet they're easy to ignore. I don't just see Ines with my eyes, I feel her somewhere in my chest, in my stomach, and most definitely in my cock.

"What did you have in mind?" I ask, playing along with her little game.

Her smile faded a little while I was thinking about her scars, because I think she heard me doing that. She always had this weird ability to read my mind off my face.

She smiles again, bravely, but I can see the strain underneath, the doubt in her eyes. Then she kneels before me, her fingers like a brush of warm air as she undoes the button of my jeans.

"I want to taste you some more," she says and winks at me as she frees my cock.

And as soon as her lips wrap around it, I can't hold onto a thought save for the one telling me to let her go at her own pace, because I don't want a repeat of last night. But it's hard and before long, as she takes more and more of me down her hot, warm throat, I'm balling my hands into fists to keep from grabbing her hair and making her take more of it, ramming it down her throat so she can swallow it whole. She used to like it rough too, rode me like a champion rodeo rider, let me ride her like that too. But that was fucking terror in her eyes when I tried to fuck her throat last night, and seeing that again is one of the few things in this world that terrify me.

Before long, even that fades before the pleasure starting in my balls, rushing up as she bobs up and down on my cock, moaning softly, the vibrations and her soft, soft tongue threatening avalanches I'll be powerless to hold back in a moment.

"Keep it up and I'll come," I tell her hoarsely, barely able to string those few words into a coherent sentence. I meant I'll be spent for awhile, if that happens. But she winks at me, smiles with her eyes because her mouth is full of my cock, and redoubles her efforts.

She still knows how to get me off, and she's holding nothing back as the room around me turns liquid and all I feel is the rushing river of my orgasm gushing over her soft lips. I do grab the back of her head, do push my dick in as far as she'll let me, as I feed her my seed. She tries to swallow, but there's too much, and it dribbles down her chin, her eyes happy and glassy as she looks up at me. And that's definitely one of the top three sights I've ever had the pleasure of seeing.

"I'm gonna need a moment," I tell her as I help her up to her feet.

She wipes her mouth and chin with the back of her hand, a slow, measured gesture that’s just as sexy as everything else she does.

"Go ahead, rest, big man," she says and winks at me again. "But we're not done yet."

And for a moment, we're back in that dingy apartment ten years ago. She's going to get my breakfast, but she'll be right back, and nothing's gonna stop her. And I know that's just wishful thinking, but fuck it, it feels good even if it's all made up.

* * *

Ines

After I showered he took me to lunch and now we're shopping along the waterfront at the little stalls, because this is a very small beach town. There's a fancy resort hotel, a marina and all the expensive shops that go with it just one bay over from this one, but I didn't want to go there.

I haven't shopped at an inexpensive store in over ten years. Haven't bought or worn anything that didn't carry a price tag, which would make most regular people lightheaded, in that long too. It’s liberating to buy clothes that will come apart and fade in a couple washes in ways I never expected.

All through my childhood, I wore second hand clothes. I think the only new dress I ever owned was the one my father got me for my high school graduation. It was made of dark red linen and embroidered with yellow, white and pink flowers. It reminded me of a field at sunset, but I almost took it back to the store, because I knew he went hungry saving up for it. I didn't though, because I understood how much it meant to papa to give it to me. I brought that dress with me when I escaped the city, wore it on most dates me and Rook went on. It got left behind in that small one-room apartment we lived in, I'm sure, and I'll never get it back. But I don't need it back, it's safe right where it is. In my memory, along with my father's happy face when he handed it to me, before, much before Silvio took everything away from us.

No, not everything.

I smile at Rook, who's leaning against one of the metal clothes racks and looking very bored.

"You almost done?" he asks, trying to sound gruff, but he's not fooling me.

"I'm trying to pick out a dress," I say and extend my hand to him. "Come help me."

He grins and takes my hand. "Didn't you already get some of those at the other store?"

He knows I did, since he's carrying my bags. "I need more."

"Do you?" he asks sarcastically. "As far as I'm concerned, the less you wear, the better."

I grin at him. "You would say that, wouldn't you?"

All he has with him—inside a very old and ratty backpack I might add—is an extra t-shirt and a pair of jeans, boxers and a button down shirt. I bought some new things for him too, despite his protests.

"How about you get a pair of those?" he suggests, pointing at a mannequin wearing very short cut-off jean hot pants with frayed edges. "And you might as well get that frilly bra thing to go with it. Then we can toss all these long dresses away."

He shakes the bags with the things I already bought at me. It was meant as a joke, meant to tell me how much he wants me as naked as he can get me, and how sick he is of shopping too, most likely, but I'm not feeling very light and carefree all of a sudden. I feel like I've swallowed some very cold water and it's turning to ice inside me.

"I can't wear revealing clothes like that anymore," I say and look away from him, look away from the outfit he'd like me to wear, look out through the open doors of this place, at the sea shimmering in the afternoon sun, because only that's safe to look at right now. Part of the reason why I kept shopping even though I already have all I need is because I didn't want to go to the beach before at least most of the people left. "I have too many scars. No one wants to look at them."

My voice cracks although I've long since learned to accept them. My back is covered with scars, my butt and the back of my thighs too. Those on my breasts are just the worst ones, but they're not the only ones. Not by far.

He grows very silent, feels like a rock beside me. I can't even hear him breathing.

But then he pulls me closer, turns me so I'm forced to look at him. "I don't care about your scars and you shouldn't either. I'll take it up with anyone that does. You're a beautiful woman and I want to look at you. Scars and all."

"Oh, Rook," I say and wrap my arms around his waist. "It means so much for you to say that. But people will stare, and maybe they'll even think you did it to me, and I just…I just can't handle that."

He narrows his eyes the way he always does when he thinks I'm being silly.

"You and me'll know the truth," he says. "Who cares what anyone else thinks? You never cared fuck all about that."

It's not an accusation, not meant to point out just how different I am from the woman he hoped to find all these years after we fell in love. But it feels like that, and I feel all those years of sadness and pain very acutely right now. Years we'll never get back.

His eyes narrow some more, but there's a playful light in them too. He squeezes my ass then gives it a little slap.

"Stop being silly, Ines," he says. "Get the shorts, get the frilly bikini, and then we're going swimming. It's fucking hot today."

He smiles at me like I'm the only person apart from him in this world. He's completely right. Who cares what anyone else thinks? Who cares what we had to go through before we found each other again? Who cares about anything else, but the fact that we're finally together again? Not me!