The Everlasting Chapel (15 page)

The next morning, I get the phone call I
have anxiously been waiting for. Spencer tells me Anne just woke
up, and that she’s been asking for me. Immediately, I get Staci to
cover for me and then I head to the hospital. On my way, I call my
father and Michael and give them the good news. Michael offers to
come, but I tell him I’d prefer some alone time with Anne. He
doesn’t object, only says he understands completely.

When I enter the room, Anne’s mother is
knitting in the corner, and her father is reading a book. Anne’s
eyes are open, but she’s still lying down. Her face is slightly
less bloated, although the bruises look even worse than before.
Tears immediately spring to my eyes, however, not wanting her to
see me crying, I whisk them away.

She smiles softly when she sees me, and then
she nods to her mother and both her parents stand up. They vanish
out the door. She must have talked to them in advance.

“
Anne,” I say, approaching
the bed. “I’m so—”

“
If you even think about
taking any blame for this or feeling guilty about it, I will
strangle you with the tubes that are attached to me,” she
says.

Surprised by her comment, I laugh a
little.

“
You look like shit,
Scarlett,” she says.

“
And you look wonderful,” I
say, feeling gratitude fill my heart as I realize there’s no brain
damage, and that whoever the attacker was, he didn’t destroy her
completely.

She laughs, but then her face contorts.
“Sorry. It hurts to move.”

“
I’m so glad you’re…going
to be okay.” Sitting down by her side, I take her hand in mine.
“Did you see who it was?”

“
It was some guy from The
Black Chapel who had been asking for my information,” she
says.

So it was who Laila suspected. “Do you know
if they found him yet?”

“
They did, and they’re
holding him in custody right now.”

“
Good,” I say. “I hope they
eject the fucking scumbag into space.”

“
Me, too,” she says,
getting a sad look on her face. “He tried to rape me, but I kicked
him so hard in the balls he couldn’t manage.”

“
Oh, God,” I say, feeling
nausea churn in my belly.

“
Instead, he cut me up
pretty bad.”

I want to kill the guy.

“
I needed to talk to you
alone because I have agreed to let my parents take me back home
next week when they release me from the hospital,” she
says.

I nod. It’s a wise decision, but thinking
about how she’ll live on the other side of the country kills me.
“I’ll miss you.”

Her expression turns dejected, and for the
first time since I got here, tears appear in her beautiful blue
eyes. “I’ll miss you so much, too, Scarlett.”

I squeeze her hand gently. “So you’ll start
college right away?”

“
Yes,” she says. “I have
decided to major in ballet.”

“
You’ll be a beautiful
ballerina. I’ll come see you perform. I promise.”

“
I’d like that. Oh, how are
you and Michael?” she asks.

I take a deep breath. “We’re definitely back
on again, and…things are different this time.”

“
How so?” she
asks.

“
Well…everything. When we
spend time together, I feel calmer. Well, maybe not always, but…I
mean, it’s like when we fuck, holy shit, it’s even more amazing
than before. And there’s an openness and an honesty there, that…” I
realize I can’t find the words. “It’s just amazing. There’s a
security in it. I just can’t explain, but the passion is like ten
times better.”

“
Well. If he messes with
you again, you can always come crash at my place,” she says. “I’m
sure there will be plenty of hot guys willing to help you
forget.”

I laugh. “Of course.”

“
So do you think he’ll
propose for real?” she asks.

“
We’re just dating, and I
want to see how things go first.”

“
What would you say if he
asked you right now?” she asks.

“
Hell, I’d say yes,” I
admit, a shrill of delight spreading through me. “But there’s no
rush. We need to get to know each other better.” I don’t want all
the focus to be on me, so I ask, “Do you think you’ll be
okay?”

She leans her head back onto the pillow,
looks up to the ceiling, and exhales slowly. “I swear on my life
I’m never going to be a victim of an attack again. I just want to
go to school and forget everything that happened since I was
seventeen. I’m going to make good choices, and no man will be
allowed to screw that up again. In fact, I’m not going to date
until I’ve graduated.”

“
What if Mr. Right shows
up?” I ask.

Her right eyebrow rises and she frowns. “The
he’ll have to wait.”

“
Okay. If you say so.” I
don’t want to push her further on the subject since she’s had such
horrendous experiences with men. She has a lot of healing to go
through, and I hardly think she’ll be emotionally ready to date
anyone until she has healed.

Dr. Kent walks into the room, and stares
impassively at me. “I need to run some tests, so you’ll have to
leave,” he says coolly.

I rise to my feet. “That’s fine. Can I come
visit you tomorrow, too?” I ask Anne.

“
Of course. I’ll just be
right here.”

I don’t dare give her a hug, afraid I’ll
hurt her. “See you tomorrow, then.” I squeeze her hand one last
time, and then I head back to work.

* * *

Over the course of the next few days,
Michael and I spend every night together, having sex as much as we
both can possibly take, our passion keeping us up long past a
decent bedtime hour.

I get the feeling that for him, our
love-making is a way to get around talking about Spencer, as I
suspect the thought of my friend-with-former-benefits still bothers
Michael. Maybe it’s his way of claiming me, or my way of proving I
truly only want him. Or it could be that we share the same fear and
are terrified our relationship will end again.

On Friday night after my
shift at Ophelia’s, I’m spent, but when Michael picks me up in his
Range Rover and tells me he has a surprise planned, I’m all game.
He drives me to
The Fountain,
and I become curious as to what he has in store
for us.

We head inside, and Michael orders us a
couple of Negronis, and then carries them back to the office. When
he closes the door and locks it, I know exactly what he’s
thinking.

“
Here to finish the job?” I
ask, sitting up on the desk with my legs crossed. I take a sip of
my Negroni, and then, starting at the top, I start to unbutton my
shirt as I spread my legs. My inner muscles spasm in
anticipation.

“
What job?” he asks, his
eyes lowering to my cleavage, and then between my legs.

“
Oh, you don’t remember?” I
stop undressing. Getting an idea, I hop off the desk, stride across
the room, and unlock the door.

“
Okay, okay, I admit it,”
he says, his hands up in surrender.

I approach him until I’m standing just an
inch away, and then I lean my back against the door.

“
Lock it,” he
says.

“
No.” I say, pressing a
hand to his firm chest.

He steps in front of me and reaches for the
lock, but I swat his hand away. I realize he has his plans for
tonight, but I also want to have a say in how we spend the evening.
I don’t know if it’s the music or the nightclub atmosphere or my
former stripper self who’s taking over, but right now, I want to be
in charge.

Leaning my head back against the door, I
lift my leg up and drag my inner thigh against his outer thigh. His
mouth opens and he licks his lower lip as he draws in a staggered
breath. Grabbing underneath my leg, he hoists it up as he presses
his cock firmly against me.

I moan. He must have been thinking about
this for a while because he already has a hard-on. It’s so fucking
hot.

“
Not yet,” I say, although
my body curses me for coming up with a different plan in which to
delay what it’s craving—what it needs.

Wanting him to have a new memory of me here
at the club, I take his hand in mine and lead him out into the main
area and onto the crowded dance floor. The loud base causes my
entire body to vibrate, and it’s as if the music takes possession
of my body, causing me to move to the heavy beat. Squeezing through
the throng of dancers, I notice how sweltering hot it is in here,
and since I’m still wearing my black slacks and white button-down
shirt from work, I start to sweat immediately.

Finally arriving in the center, I lift my
hands over my head and start to move my hips while staring at
Michael. His eyes smolder as he watches, and when I rake my hands
up and down my body, his stare turns ablaze. I know that look well
and it makes me feel like the sexiest woman alive.

Watching him lusting after me like that, the
same way he did all those times he watched me dance for him at The
Black Chapel, I soon find my panties soaked. Not once did I dance
for him where it led to sex. Now, with nothing holding us back, no
mask, no lies, no secrets, my entire body is buzzing with
anticipation. I want to give him a show. One he’ll remember for
years to come.

He moves closer and rests his cheek to mine,
and as we grind against each other, a deep, delicious ache surges
in the most intimate part of me.

I notice he’s holding back quite a bit—no
touching, no fondling—but I gather it is because he’s one of the
owners here. However, his modesty does nothing to cool the
firestorm that’s raging between us. In fact, the restraint he’s
displaying makes me even hotter. Makes me want him more.

I think back to the office, and suddenly I
wish I were back there so I could give him a private show. I turn
around and lift my arms to the ceiling. Ever so subtly, he skims
his fingers across my sides and abdomen, and then he lets his hands
rest on my hips. I lean my head back onto his chest.

“
Feel how hard I am for
you?” He presses himself against my ass, as he pulls my hips back.
“Once I get you naked, I’m going to lay you on the desk, spread
your legs wide open, and fuck you with my mouth so whenever I come
in here, I’ll think of us.”

Holy hell. He wants me in every part of his
life. Work. Home. Play.

“
And after I’ve made you
come, I’ll bury my hard cock inside of you, and make you moan over
and over. And after I’ve been inside of you, my tongue will explore
you again. Until finally, I’ll thrust into you so deep and so hard,
you can’t help but scream my name.”

Unable to wait a second longer, I turn
around. I need him, and, shit, I need him now. I grab his arm and
haul him with me back to the office.

I slam the door behind us and lock it as I
crash my lips to his. Forget the damn performance. Without even
unbuttoning my shirt, he tears my blouse off so the buttons go
flying through the room. With one clean sweep, he clears the desk,
the papers and binders falling to the floor. He unbuckles his belt
while I strip out of my pants and boots.

He kisses me again, with so much passion, I
feel like I’m going to come undone. His wicked tongue trails down
my neck, and he lifts my breast out of my bra and puts it in his
mouth, biting and sucking hard. Wrapping an arm around my waist, he
hoists me up onto the desk, and with his mouth still on my breast,
he moves my panties aside, and slips two fingers inside of the wet
cleft between my legs.

Oh… My head falls back when I succumb to a
sudden and intense orgasm, a yelp rising up my throat as the
explosion pulses through me.

Letting go of my nipple, he unhitches my
bra, and then he tears my panties off. Gently, he pushes me so I
end up lying down on the large, cold surface. Not a second later,
he has pulled me to the edge so my legs dangle off the side. He
lifts my legs, holding them with his arms, and thrusts into me deep
and hard, immediately setting a pace that has me rushing toward the
peak again.

Shit…

He plunges into me again and again—a
relentless, commanding pace, his fullness entering and exiting me
with long, penetrating, slippery strokes.

The desk presses unyieldingly to my back,
but the pleasure he’s giving me is so much more intense than the
uncomfortable surface. I arch my back to receive him more fully,
and close my eyes as he claims me.

“
Look into my eyes, Scar,”
he says, his voice gruff and strained. He lets go of my legs and
grabs my hips. Placing one hand on my clit, he massages there,
making me pant and moan.

I flick my eyes to his, but close them as I
approach another orgasm.

“
Open them,” he says again,
fucking me harder.

I force them open as he continues to slam
into me.

“
Hey baby. I love seeing
that face,” he says. “Who is giving you this pleasure?”

“
You are,” I gasp, feeling
myself dripping wet.

“
Say my name,” he growls
into my ear.

His commanding, passionate voice drives me
even higher. “Michael…Michael is.”

Even though he’s ruthlessly thrusting into
me, I notice how aware he is of me, how meticulous he’s planning
each movement. His eyes are searching mine, looking for something,
but also, eager and excited.

“
Oh…I love you,” I
say.

He offers me his hand and I take it. Pulling
me up so I’m sitting on the edge of the desk, he coves my mouth
with his as he bangs into me deeper and deeper, each magnificent
shove another step toward my release.