At Peace

She stared up at him, her once pretty blue eyes clear in her moment of lucidity then she nodded and awkwardly pulled her arm from his hold. She moved to stand a foot away from him, staring at the street, biting her lips, her body gently swaying like a fucking willow branch caught in a light wind.

Five of the longest fucking minutes in his fucking life slid by before the taxi came. He shoved Bonnie in the backseat, slammed the door, pulled out his wallet, leaned in through the passenger side window and yanked a fifty out, handing it to the driver.

“Take her home, she doesn’t know where home is, take her somewhere safe, a shelter if you know where one is,” Cal ordered.

“Gotcha,” the driver nodded, Cal stepped back and the taxi pulled away.

Cal watched the street long after the car had gone from sight. That acid was still in his veins, he could feel it. It had started pumping the minute he woke up and knew she was back and the only time he didn’t feel it eating at him was when Violet was pressed to his back.

He stood outside a long time, apparently too long because Violet slid into him again, this time pressing up to his front and wrapping her arms all the way around him.

He dipped his chin to see she was gazing up at him.

“Come inside, baby,” she whispered.

It was her calling him “baby” like she did her daughters, sweet, gentle, tender, that one word getting under his skin, making Cal give it to her straight and he didn’t delay but he also didn’t share it all with her, not even half of it.

“That was my ex-wife.”

Violet pressed closer. “I figured something like that.”

Cal noted the sudden absence of the toxin searing through his system just as he noted that Violet’s face was soft, her eyes searching his through the dark. She wasn’t casting judgment, nothing was working behind her eyes, wondering about him, about Bonnie, about how he could have been with Bonnie, about the scene she’d just witnessed. She was focused solely on him and, he suspected, even though she didn’t know it was there, she had to know something was, so she was focused on taking away the burning sting of the poison a visit from Bonnie always injected him with.

He’d never had that either but having it then from Vi made him lift his hand and cup her jaw, tilting her head back further so he could bend his neck and touch his mouth to hers. He’d done that twice tonight, kissed her lightly, and he couldn’t remember if he’d ever done that to a woman in his life.

When he did, she unwrapped one of her arms from his waist and her hand came up, her finger slid down his hairline then all of her fingers glided into his hair.

She lifted up on her toes and, against his mouth, she urged, “Come inside, Joe.”

Then she moved away but grabbed his hand and he allowed her to lead him into his house.

*

“Fuck,” Cal whispered, his hands in Vi’s hair, his palms at the sides of her head, his fingers curled around the back.

She was on her knees in front of him, he was standing, her hands were at his hips, over his jeans, she’d only pulled his dick free before she started working him.

Now, if he didn’t stop it, he was going to come in her mouth.

He pulled out, leaned down and yanked her up with his hands in her pits. He twisted her, throwing her on the bed and he covered her.

“Joe, I wanted to –”

His hands found her hips, she was wearing underwear so he wrenched it, her hips jerked and she gasped to silence as the material tore free and he tossed it aside.

He wrapped his hand around his cock, guided the tip inside then surged in.

So slick, so tight, he hadn’t even touched her, didn’t kiss her, she just led him to the side of the bed, dropped to her knees, unbuttoned his jeans, wrapped her hand around his dick and pulled him free then she went down on him and he loved it that she so obviously got off on giving him head.

“Joe,” she breathed when she was full of him.

She liked his dick, Christ, she fucking loved it and didn’t mind him knowing it.

His hand fisted in her hair and he brought her mouth to his, fucking her hard as he kissed her. She kissed him back, lifted her cocked legs and pressed them to his sides so he could ride her harder and drive even deeper.

“Yes, baby,” she moaned into his mouth, rocking her hips to meet his thrusts.

She’d worked miracles with her mouth. If she didn’t hurry, he was going to come before her.

“Buddy, hurry, I want you to come with me.”

“Harder, Joe.”

“Split you in two, I fuck you harder.”

Her arm tightened around his back and her fingers slid into his hair.

“I can take it.”

He drove into her harder, deeper, so much her breath hitched with each stroke.

“Baby?” he called.

“Love that, Joe,” she whispered, he couldn’t believe it but she proved it by kissing him.

He felt it start for her, her cunt spasmed, sucking him deeper and that felt so fucking good, he had no choice but to let go so he did and he experienced, for the first time, sharing an orgasm simultaneously with a partner.

It was outstanding.

When he was done, he gave her his full weight and only shifted to a forearm when he heard her breath go heavy.

Kristen Ashley's books