Page 21 of Felonies are Forever

“The next time you walk out of here like you did last night, you won’t be coming back.” He snaps his tongue over his teeth and holds his eyebrows in a look of disappointment. “You know I take a chance even having you here. Paying you like I do. I’ve been good to you, haven’t I? Looking the other way when it comes to your status. Not asking too many questions. Hmmm? Gratitude is not out of order here, Cecelia.” He stuffs his hands down into the pockets of his lab coat and flashes a condescending smile.

“Yes. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. And thank you.” And it won’t, because last night was a crazy, stupid, endorphin-filled binge and I’m all about the morning after right now. The ‘I’llnever do THAT again’ tag line is playing over and over in my mind. “I need this job. And also my apartment, my room, was near that explosion last night. I don’t have a place to stay. So, yes, I’m sorry, please, it won’t happen again.”

The pathetic tone in my voice only darkens my mood more. I’ve struggled for so long. There is always more week than paycheck and I’m tired. In my soul I’m tired.

The next hour rolls on as my head starts to pound. I’m in a consulting room, listening to a sweet, eighty-seven-year-old woman from Cuba trying to tell me all about the pain in her tooth.

One of the associate dentists, Dr. Robertson, comes in and I explain and translate between them. I like Dr. Robertson. She’s told me why she left private practice for this clinic, accepting rock bottom wages. She’s a good woman, in this for the right reasons, doing what she can for people less fortunate than herself. Dr. Stinson, on the other hand, doesn’t actually see patients, oh no.

I slide my stool back as Dr. Robertson starts to work, the quiver in my belly still there as I think about Thorne. His mouth on me, the way he filled me up and spoke to me in such elegant vulgarity. There is a buildup of tension immediately as I picture his face, hear the lust in his voice.

A soft knock on the exam room door and my co-worker, Sasha, peeks in.

“Hey,” I whisper, rising from my rolling stool.

“Hey, CeeCee, um, there’s a delivery here. I think it’s for you… It’s addressed to Cecelia Peabody. Is that you?” My name as far as everyone here knows is Cecelia Thompson.

My heart stops.

TEN

THORNE

This meeting isabout to send me back to fucking prison.

It’s been hours of back and forth between the attorneys and I’m ready to tear the walls down.

It’s a mediation that should have taken an hour at the most, but leave it to the damn lawyers to fuck up something simple. The terms were set when we walked in, so we were supposed to agree and sign. Now, we’ve gone back to fucking square one. We sued Sweet Tastes on two counts. First, they copied a good portion of our branding and logo. They argued it was their design first, which should have been laughed out of court, but they’re backed by a fuck-ton of money. And then there was the second count. Sweet Tastes used the recipes (sold to them by a former employee) and the exclusive donut names for ten of our trademark flavors.

To tell you the truth, that second one pissed me off more because our customers shouldn’t be subjected to the substandard, greasy shit they churn out at that place. Anyway, the case should have been simple. It should have been shut-them-the-fuck-down. It shouldn’t have turned into this shit storm. But like I said, they’re backed by a fuck-ton of money from ConAgra Foods.

“Look.” I raise my hands and everyone looks my way. “We’ve been in here jacking off for too fucking long.” Adding to my frustration is the fact CeeCee hasn’t texted me.

I asked her to let me know when she left and by 9:30 AM I started calling and texting her and got no reply. Called my driver and he said she never called him for a ride anywhere, so I started to calm down, even smirked a little thinking she must have decided not to go in to work after all.

If I’m being truthful, I’m also fucking tired. That girl had me on the edge of something I’ve never experienced before and the intensity of it left me sleepless.

Content, but sleepless.

I laid with her, cradling her next to me all night, with images of my baby growing inside her swimming through my head. Thoughts of the simple things I’ve always dreamed of. A family. A wife. And my possessive nature protecting them until I take my last breath.

I think of the way her pussy spread apart when she took my cock last night. The way her eyes lit up and widened as I slipped inside her.

A perfect fucking fit. We both came so hard, our bodies shook against each other. I’ve never had an orgasm like that before. Inside a woman, flesh to flesh, and with CeeCee, it was soul shattering. I felt like I gave her part of me, something I can never give again.

Even sitting here now, thinking about it, I’ve got a hard-on. I don’t bother excusing myself, and I stomp out of the room. I’m not sure if I need to go stroke off, thinking of the way her tight walls clasp around me, her noises. Jesus, her noises. That’s enough to make my balls draw up right there.

But I decide otherwise. I take the elevator down and hop on my bike. I need to find her. My head will not let me think of anything else until I know she’s safe.

“Where did she go?”The poor receptionist at the front desk looks at me like I’m holding a gun to her head. Yeah, I’m ashamed to say I know what that looks like.

“I…” Her voice shakes as the fucking asshole from last night comes into view.

I aim my eyes his way. “Where’s CeeCee?”

He rolls his eyes. “Gone. Again.” His snarky tone and self-absorbed manner make me want to shove a foot in his ass.

“Where?” I’m a man of few words right now, but someone else better start spilling their guts because otherwise I’m going to start breaking bones.

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