Famished, Meghan O'Flynn [free ebooks romance novels .txt] 📗
- Author: Meghan O'Flynn
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Everything will be okay.
He put his hands on my knees and moved upward under my skirt, each stroke leaving tender, tingling flesh in its wake. A low moan escaped me, primal and hungry, a sound I didn’t even know I was capable of making. The past months—all my worries, all my mistakes—vanished. There had been nothing before this moment. Here, with him, it was safe to be born again.
Everything will be okay.
Then he was inside me, filling me, and I raised my hips to meet him. His tongue flicked against my nipple, and I could feel every gentle suckle in my loins. I wrapped my legs around him as if I could erase everything else by pulling him deeper into me. He thrust, again and again, his fingers stroking me at the apex of my thighs.
Everything will be okay.
An unfamiliar sensation took over my body, and there was no more control, no time to be shocked, only pulsing, shuddering waves crashing over me as I clung to the desk and screamed Dominic’s name. He covered my mouth with his, joining the two of us in blissful silence that spoke volumes. He cared about me. He wanted me. And I wanted him back, desperately, furiously, in that moment, and for as long as he would have me.
He will protect me.
Yeah, as long as he never knows how fucked up you really are.
Swallowing the thought, I wrapped my legs around his hips and fastened myself to him as if he were an anchor, one steady thing in a sea of hurt.
Robert seethed. This is not possible.
He sat with Thomas at the deli down the road from their office. A ham and Swiss sandwich, too big to fit in his mouth, sat untouched on his plate. The completely oblivious bastard across from him was making short work of his own turkey and cheddar.
She betrayed me.
It was a simple thought, one that shouldn’t have surprised him, and yet it did.
Women are whores. Liars. Vile.
But not this one. This one was supposed to save him. With every part of his being, he rejected the idea that she had left him before granting him absolution.
“When did this happen?”
Thomas shrugged. “This week, I think? Apparently, Hannah just packed up and moved out of the blue. Noelle was totally shocked when she found out.”
Robert cursed himself for biding his time instead of actively pursuing her. But a sudden move did not seem like typical behavior for the demure woman he thought he knew. The girl he needed would not have given herself so easily to anyone. And it was not possible that one could change so suddenly.
He sat up straighter. What if she had been tricked? Perhaps she was merely the unwitting victim of a cunning adversary. He could save her from him, give her a gift, and in return, she would cleanse him, grateful for his selflessness.
A pastoral voice sounded in his head. Therefore, confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed.
Without her, there was no one who could absolve him. He felt himself sliding into the grips of desperation, each breath more difficult than the last.
Thomas bit into his sandwich and chewed, the sound wet and thick and infuriating.
“Who the fuck is he?” Robert asked as soon as he could speak.
Thomas’s eyes were boring a hole into him, and Robert wanted to rip them out of Thomas’s skull.
“That’s the craziest part. The boss man.”
Robert squinted. “The boss? Like, the head of Chrysler?”
Thomas laughed. “Nah, I don’t think she aimed quite that old. The owner of the contract house we work for. Harwick.”
Robert leaned back in his chair and gaped. He had worked there for years and had never even met Harwick. “I didn’t know they knew each other.”
“Yeah, I think they work in the office with him,” Thomas said, nonchalantly, clearly missing the blinding rage and despair emanating from the man across from him.
Dominic Harwick. Robert clenched his teeth together, jaw aching with the pressure of it.
She is my only hope of salvation.
I cannot fail.
He crouched underneath the table, not because he was scared, but because she had screamed at him to do it. The john didn’t want him in the closet while they were in the bedroom. There was apparently no worse buzz-kill than the sneeze of a small child.
He waited while the moans from the bedroom accelerated and finally stopped. A shirtless man walked out to the table, kicked under it until his foot connected, and left the apartment.
He watched the door close behind the john and rubbed his throbbing shin.
Then her face appeared, nearly purple with rage. She reached under the table to grab him, as he had expected, and jerked him into the open. The splintered linoleum tiles slashed at his legs as she dragged him across the floor. She slapped him in the face, and his cheek lit up with pain. Her foot connected with his stomach. He tried to breathe, but the blows came too quickly.
Still, he remained impassive, yielding. It was better this way, faster too. Maybe he’d even pass out. When he came to, it would be over.
“You prolly just cost me fifty bucks, you little piece of shit.”
Her words were slurred. She kicked him hard in the thigh. The air returned to his lungs. Much better. Much more—
He was weightless for half a second. Stars shot into his vision as he struck the cabinet with his head and crashed to the floor on his stomach. There was a loud snap as a bone in his ribs gave way. Pain flared in his chest. He gritted his teeth and lay still.
The front door slammed.
He struggled to his feet, panting through his nose as the ache in his side intensified. In the bathroom, he climbed gingerly onto the sink and peered into the mirror. Blue and green marks stained his skin. He touched his side, swallowed the pain, and watched his face. His eyes stayed as empty as the kitchen cupboards.
He brought the edges of his mouth up like the hero did in the comic magazine he had found. He frowned.
That wasn’t it.
He tried again, willing the corners of his eyes to move as well.
The door slammed. A man’s voice muttered something. Then a clink of glass—they’d stopped in the kitchen. He scrambled from the bathroom sink, gasping against the stabbing pain in his side, and ran to the bedroom, into the closet.
Maybe if she came for him again, that smiley face he’d been practicing would help him. It certainly seemed to help the man with the cape.
He shook his head at the long-ago memories. Superheroes never lasted, nor had that vulnerable boy who had once dreamed of becoming one.
She wouldn’t last either.
The woman paced the alley on legs run through with purple veins. Her stomach was too thin to have seen anything but blow in the last week. He wondered if the boy housed in the apartment upstairs was as malnourished as she was. He could almost smell the child, dirty and sweating, hiding in a closet, cowering in a corner. But no matter. Soon the boy would be free of his bitch mother.
Her artificially yellowed hair shone under the single streetlight like a beacon as she tossed it over one shoulder. Business was good tonight; he could tell it by the bounce in her step. So much the better. Her good mood would make her that much more trusting.
Fucking idiots. Like oysters led to their slaughter.
He emerged from the shadows, and let her see him. She grinned, revealing yellowed teeth with wide gaps.
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