Sleeves (13 page)

It was the oddest sensation—the combination of a slow, seductive assault on the outside of her skin and a savage pummeling inside.

“Oh God! More!” Her eyes slid up into her head.

He eased her down to her feet as he kept going, kept moving at a frantic speed.

Casey’s hands were gripping his butt, anchoring her body to his. She didn’t do it because he asked or because he wanted her to, but because the only other place was his shoulders. There’d be no way she could hold onto those with the way they were moving; rising and falling with each thrust. The movement too quick, she would probably lose her grasp. Especially with the added slickness of the water.

“Christ—I love how you’re wetter inside than you are outside. It’s perfect for me—makes me harder, thicker, longer, and I have more stamina because it doesn’t hurt as much.” He nipped at her ear and licked it then whispered, “All for me. You know what I need, don’t you? This greedy cunt wants to make sure I get it, because you want all of my come, know-it-all-bitch.”

She tipped her head back and gasped for air as her orgasm swelled, building inside her like an explosion was about to take place.

It was too much.

Her head lolled from side to side. When she stopped to glance down and saw his thick cock plunging inside her, she had to look away. The rawness—the primal way he took her was more than she could stand to even think about.

“What’s the matter? Like what you see too much?” He licked his lips then ran them across her cheek. “That’s me you’re watching—that’s my dick climbing inside you and finding a safe place to play. No one gets this wet—no one but you, and you’ve found ways to make it okay for me to fuck you—that means you want this as much as I do.”

She arched her back when he hit a particularly delicious spot inside her.

Then his crazy fingers were back on her clit, rubbing, exposing and flicking it. A few times he even simply pushed the pad of his finger into it as hard as he could, causing this insane pressure until it throbbed uncontrollably.

“How long can you hold out? Don’t come—Case. I can go much longer than this since I jack off all the time and get touched there but am never allowed to come. Wanna bet I can make you do it several times before I ever let a drop of me seep into you?”

“Shut. Up!” she said through clenched teeth. She leaned forward, shoved her tongue into his mouth, and he stiffened.

His legs quaked, threatening to buckle, but he wasn’t coming alone. He pinched her clit as he howled into her mouth.

He was lying to her—the man was climaxing, and it was the hottest thing she’d ever witnessed.

She fell apart in his arms as he flung them around her. “Oh, God, oh, Jesus—yes, sweetheart, clamp down on me. Just like that. I can feel you touching my cock all over.”

She exhaled in a rush, whimpered something about how fucked she was and would possibly never be able to walk again, but couldn’t be happier about it.

He chuckled good-naturedly and nuzzled his nose into her hair, peppering her neck with light, affectionate kisses.

“Shower sex. Why hadn’t I thought of that before to get rid of the pain on my skin?” he mused.

“Uh, because you’re not a know-it-all-bitch apparently.”

He broke into a roaring laugh and pulled out of her with a wet, slushing sound. “I love the way your mind works, even if you are a know-it-all-bitch.” He sighed with a groan, and then his entire body sagged like he’d finished running a three-day marathon.

She sighed, and her body did the same.

“When I fuck you, did I tell you I’m ravenous afterward? And you never feed me. What’s up with that? Don’t bitches need to eat, too?” He smirked and his cheeks dimpled, the cute bastard. That look made her pussy ripple. God, he was insufferable.

She smacked his chest.

“Well, thanks to you getting me all dirty like you said you would do, I have to rewash, so food will have to wait.”

“I’ll lick you clean; it’ll save time.” He picked her up, held her in the spray like a Neanderthal and licked her shoulder then nibbled his way up her neck.

It was ten more minutes of his play like that before they were both washing in cold water and scrambling to get out, no matter how much fun they were having.

* * *

Taking Kel to see Dr. Jeffries was a harrowing experience. Kel was so uptight and fearful it was breaking her heart each moment they were there.

The doctor asked probing question after question, and Kel sidestepped most of them.

It wasn’t until he turned to Casey and asked her to sit with him that things shifted.

She held his hand, and he was cautious with his answers, but it seemed he was more forthcoming for the most part.

Jeffries asked about his occupation.

He gave brief answers.

His relationships.

Even less shared in response.

Asked about his formative years, growing up.

Some of that was vague at best. Kel would go stiff, and his voice would drop to near a whisper each time he mentioned his mom.

Casey would stroke his hand a little, but then she’d remember that it was probably putting him in pain so she backed off.

Kel said military people had experimented on him at one point, or so he thought. He wasn’t sure who they were, but they did something to him to make ejaculating painful enough he passed out at the end, and they caused touch from anyone to be excruciating.

It sounded psychotic when he told them about how he would be strapped down and not touched for days at a time as a form of torture to see how much he could bear.

Casey’s eyes welled up several times, but she was torn over whether to believe him or not.

It was the few bits of his dreams about Hannah that were really disturbing, and that’s when she had to look away from him so she wouldn’t start sobbing in his presence.

It was a good two hours when the doctor finally inhaled and made a grunting noise like she was done and knew what his problem was.

“Thanks, Kelly, you can rest. I’m going to leave the room for a moment,” Dr. Jeffries said, motioning for Casey to follow her.

“It’s Kel. I hate the name Kelly.” He moved over to the couch and stretched out, his face worn and his body limp.

She padded out the door after Jeffries; they moved a few feet away.

“Well? How bad off do you think he is? Can you help him?” Casey’s heart hammered in her chest, and her hands fisted at her sides so she shoved them in her pockets. The doctor didn’t need to see how uptight and wrapped up in him Casey was.

“It’s . . . With proper medication and some intense therapy, yes, he might be okay. But I have to say, I’ve never seen such a complicated case before. His touch issues are all psychosomatic—that’s clear.” Jeffries sighed. “At first I thought it was split personality, but then things shifted. Definite paranoid schizophrenic and possible PTSD as well. I’d also like to get a polygraph in here, because honestly, a lot of what he said sounded completely fabricated. Where did you meet him?” Jeffries shoved her glasses up higher on the bridge of her nose.

“He owns a club. I met him there when I attended with two friends.” Casey swallowed hard to keep the bile from coming up that was threatening at the back of her throat to claw its way out. What if he could get the proper medication? If he was well, she could be with him. They could really do this.

She couldn’t deny she cared about him, and almost felt desperate at the thought of him leaving her life, even to be institutionalized for a short period of time.

The doctor gave her an impatient look, so Casey asked, “Okay, so what needs to be done to get him checked in?”

“I don’t think he’s going to be too keen on this. It might take some coaxing to get him to sign himself in voluntarily. Maybe you could help with that?” Jeffries shifted her weight to her left foot and gazed at him through the glass with a look of concern etched in her eyes. “How well do you know him?”

“It’s kind of complicated. I spent the night with him, and he talks in his sleep. He told me all sorts of stuff when he was drunk, too, so I don’t know—I get the feeling he doesn’t have a lot of friends, and he told me he’s without a family.” Casey shrugged.

“You may know him better than anyone right now, so unfortunately, this responsibility kind of falls to you. It was your caring hand that guided him here to me; now it’s going to be your hand that helps him sign in for hospitalization. He needs help.” Jeffries exhaled and glanced at the floor for a moment. “Any questions?”

“No. I can go get some of his stuff for him, and I’ll be in everyday so if he needs anything else he—”

“Sorry, but no visitors. I don’t think I can allow that at this time. He has violent tendencies, and we have no idea how he might react to being medicated. For your safety . . .”

Casey’s stomach free-fell through her body and her breath followed after. Her entire innards clenched hard. “What do you mean I can’t visit? He needs me!”

“Oh, no—this is what I was afraid of. People like him wrap their victims up in their stories, and it’s hard to keep from enabling them. He’s dependent on you, and you’ve already become co-dependent. You know the signs, Ms. Long. You’re a social worker, and this isn’t permitted in your line of work.” Jeffries set a hand on her shoulder.

Casey shrugged right out of it. “It’s not like that. This man,” she stepped closer and got in her face, “was deprived of touch as a child. He craves it like you and I need to have oxygen to survive. If he’s cut off, he’ll go ballistic and then shut down. And you’ll probably blame it on the medication, but it’s not that. He has to be touched, and preferably by a woman.”

“Yes, he told me his issues with touch. He said it hurts, but he has to have it.” She huffed for a moment and then steadied her breath.

Casey crossed her arms and leaned against the window. “And what are you going to do when he comes undone? Put him in a straitjacket? He’s not crazy.”

“No one ever said he was. He’s ill and needs help, and the best way to do that is—”

“We’re done here. I can’t help you with this plan. I’m taking him, and we’re leaving,” Casey said, her throat constricting and her breaths shallowing as the flight response kicked in.

She rammed her way back through the door into the office and extended her hand. “Come on, baby, we’re leaving this place. I thought this was a good idea, but obviously I was wrong.”

He stood up and beamed at her. “I knew you’d see . . .”

“Yes, I see, sweet man.” Casey kissed his cheek, and he winced.

Shit! Would she ever remember that stung him and caused him inner turmoil?

“We’re leaving now,” Casey confirmed once more to the doctor.

“Then you’re leaving against medical advice. You’ll need to sign this form,” the doctor said, grabbing something off her desk and shoving a paper toward Casey.

“I’m not signing anything. You did this as a favor, and I paid, but that’s it. Just pretend like we were never here.” Casey marched toward the door, Kel nipping at her heels.

“You know I can’t do that. I’ll have to report this,” Jeffries warned.

“You do that, and see if we’re concerned.” Casey glared at her.

“And see if you can catch us. We’ll be long gone before you even figure out what to do about us leaving.” He smiled.

Fuck—he was gorgeous when he wore that playful smirk.

“C’mon.” Casey tugged, and he picked her up, running through the medical facility like he was a kid, playing games.

God, she might be the one that would be crazy and lost without this man if she was denied his touch—not the other way around.

Chapter 7

How many times was Casey going to look at him like that? All the elation he felt when they’d left that place was gone. Those damned looks of hers! Fuck! It wasn’t that “you’re broken” look anymore. No, it was worse. It was the “what the hell can I do to help you?” look, now. So much worse.

If she thought she had to fix him, she’d exhaust herself on a lost cause.

He gripped the back of his head and stared out the window.

“You were considering it, weren’t you?”

“Considering what?” She grabbed the steering wheel tighter. He couldn’t see it since he was looking away, but he knew that sound and could feel the tension in the air.

“Getting me hospitalized.”

“Sorry, I . . . With my job—”

“Yeah, save that speech for some bastard that cares about what you do.” He clicked his teeth together and exhaled in a gust so hard it fogged up part of the window.

“Do you hate me? I was only trying to help.”

“Help yourself by taking me home and keeping away from me.” He envisioned the fog enveloping him and somehow transforming him into something she could understand and love.

“Why would you say that? I thought we liked each other,” she said, her voice breaking.

He turned to her and leaned against the door. There was this clawing feeling inside his chest like he needed to run—right this moment, and as fast as he could. Save her from the monster he was.

“You want to fix something that isn’t really broken. Because to be broken, I would’ve needed to be whole at some point. I’ve never been anything other than this. I can’t get sick—I’ve tried. When I get hurt, I heal quickly, and I grew at an alarming rate. These aren’t signs of someone being broken—they’re signs of a freak of nature. Can’t you see that what I’ve told you is true?”