Page 52 of Stables

I want to give her the peace to have that expression all of the time.

Even when she looks at me.

It might take a while. There’s a selfish part of me that hopes Matt comes back tonight so I can either teach him to stay away, or put him in the ground.

As long as the threat of him lingers, I don’t know if Char will ever be fully relaxed.

Maybe I should just whisk her away? Mom and Dad seem to like it back in Virginia.

Any place would work that the judge can’t reach.

Belize is nice this time of year.

The thought of Char in a bikini on a beach makes the zipper of my jeans nearly open on its own as my stiff cock pushes out, bulging behind the thin fabric of my boxer-briefs.

Damn things didn’t seem to want to hold me back this morning when Char got more than an eyeful.

Figures.

Her timing was impeccable.

What would she have done if I had just started stroking myself while she watched?

The chilly water helps to temper the fire coursing through me.

I’m half tempted to beat myself off, release some of this pressure that’s building.

But I’m not some teenager, whacking over a cheerleader.

Cranking the handle further over the “C”, the icy rivulets pour needles over my skin.

It’s what I deserve, thinking about her that way.

Her face still showshismarks. She can’t even lift her daughter because of the injuriesheinflicted on her.

Yet I’m lusting over her like an animal.

Get it together.

The water doesn’t take away this insane drive to put my own claim on her.Icould make her lips swollen and puffy from kissing her too hard.Icould leavemyteeth marks on her throat.Myhandprints on her round ass.

That piece of shit man doesn’t know how to mark his woman.

But I do.

I’ll do one better. I’ll help her gain the confidence to walk with her head held high. She’ll have the ability to go to town without fear, or pay her bills without worry.

One day, she can even choose to wear my ring, so every mother fucker out there knows I’ll be there to protect her.

Well, perhaps I should focus on getting her to not flinch when I move too close before I go marrying her.

I pull on a crisp pair of jeans and clean shirt, then stack folded sets into a fresh duffel.

Last, but not least, I stuff my Ruger into the side pocket.

Extra magazine for comfort.

Oddly, knowing I’m going to do everything I can to keep Char makes my step a little lighter.

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