PULSE POINT • 15 • NOTHING CHANGED

Summary: Back in the hospital, everything looks the same—and nothing is. They fall into perfect rhythm under pressure, holding the line exactly where they’re supposed to. But restraint has a limit, and by the end of the shift, something has to give.

Warnings / Content Notes:

workplace power dynamic (attending / resident)

medical trauma/emergency scene (non-graphic but intense)

emotional tension and restraint

sexism/authority dismissal (handled, non-graphic)

physical intimacy (intense kissing)

high emotional stakes

Previous Chapter(s): | Chpt. 1 | Chpt. 2 | Chpt. 3 | Chpt.4 | Chpt. 5 | Chpt. 6 | Chpt. 7 | Chpt. 8 | Chpt. 9 | Chpt. 10 | Chpt. 11 | Chpt. 12 | | Chpt. 13 | Chpt. 14 |

Recommended Listening:

Reader's Song: Gold – Kiiara

Jack's Song: Human– Rag'n'Bone Man

Bonus Track: Dangerous Woman - Ariana Grande

Chapter 15: Nothing Changed

One evening in the beginning of August, Augustin took a walk in the Jardin du Luxembourg. The weather was very hot and he went over to a basin to drizzle cupped handfuls of water on his head. To further escape the heat, Augustin went to a nearby movie theater because it was air conditioned. Standing in the lobby, he noticed three girls, Marianne, Manon, and Anna, come in and buy tickets for 42nd…

Spence “Johnny!”  A scream from the top of the staircase came out loud and clear from another who had just emerged from a room below, having heard the exchange of the women to draw them from the room.  “Johnny!  Get the fuck out here!”  The man’s words were called down the stairs before he would cross the space towards Spencer and the blonde in an attempt to pull the blonde from John’s wife’s throat.  

Once.  “Johnny!”  Twice.  Two times Spencer laid the blade of the knife into the woman.  She had let go of her throat, yet Spencer stabbed her again, showing no hope of stopping.  What had easily been slotted as self defense on the first wound was no longer such.  With each stab into the woman’s side, the blood rained outward, covering Spencer’s hand and arm until the woman fell to the ground.  Spencer went down with her, repeating the same action against the woman’s chest until the sound of boots running towards her would cause her to stop.  It was then that it all became too clear to Spencer that which she had done.  

Beside a pool of coffee, Spencer sat straddled over the woman, knife still in her hand.  Trembling, she dropped the knife against the floor.  Attempting to get a word out, Spencer was left with no words as she sat, staring down at the corpse she had taken the life from.  The man stopped in his tracks towards her the second she dropped the knife as two others emerged from the hallway before John could make his way up.  Three people stood in shock as the detective sat in the pool of the woman’s blood, trembling overtop of her with a knife against the floor at her side.  Blood spatter covered Spencer’s hands, top, face, and neck.  She could feel the eyes on her in that moment, yet she’d make no attempt to move from that place, reality having set in on the woman that she had taken another’s life for the first time.

John As he hit the door frame from a full run, he entered the room and took a step back. The room utterly filled now with not only witnesses but in disbelief witnesses. He didn't know what was worse. His hands instantly went to his head. This was it. This was the end for him. He had to feeling of anticipation coursing through him for months now that something, somewhere was going to catch up on him. That he'd see bars because of it. This would be it. It had to be. He exhaled deep before something other than himself willed his body forward. The inner protector. The Papa Bear. Stepping in front of her where he leaned down. Pulling the knife from her hands as he pulled the still warm body from her. Guiding the petite form of his wife back before he glanced over the blonde. A reach to the jugular just to assure him of what he already knew. No pulse. "Wha-why...what did...what happened?" He finally managed.

Spence With the knife relinquished to John, there was a blank look across her face.  She was in shock as she looked down at the woman on the floor once John had brought her to her feet and backed her away.  She was unable to speak or move on her own accord at the moment, just entranced by the body that laid against the floor.  The blood spattered all over her own arms and legs, face and neck, was not her own, yet she made no attempt to wipe it away.  As John asked the question, she heard him, yet she couldn’t quite manage words to come forth from her.  Still trembling, she took a half step back, a slow shake to her head.  It couldn’t be happening.  She might’ve been a dirty cop before, but this was an entirely different thing.  The only true witness to the event had been the man who had screamed for John.  He had seen the blonde pinning Spencer to the bar.  He had seen the knife as it penetrated the woman’s side.  He was the one and only one who could attest to the self defense, and yet Spencer had taken it further than necessary.  “I’m sorry,” she finally mouthed against her lips, the words not making any audible sound.  Nothing more than a formation as she repeated the mouthed words again and again, now without ceasing.

John Watching her, he knew she was too far gone to get anything from and he was just about stunned on what all to do as he attempted to pull her to her feet. "Come here..." he instructed, his first impulse being to get her to the shower as he glanced over towards one of his brothers. "She came after her, Johnny...but we'll worry about this after, I-" "grab a tarp out from the backroom. Get her wrapped up. I'm going to have to call Judas..." he stated simply, focusing on getting his wife out of that room and cleaned up as he walked her back to the bedroom bathroom. "I need to get you cleaned up, alright?"

Spence As directions were given, it was as if she were watching it through someone else's eyes. She was not capable of such an act, and yet she had done it. Repeatedly. When John came to her, guiding her back down the stairs to the room they shared, she was still steadily mouthing the apology. A series of words that would undo nothing.  His question to her was met with another "I'm sorry" at her lips as she remained oblivious to the fact she was covered in blood. All at once, she was freezing cold, turning into him with no regard to the blood that would transfer from her clothing and body to his. Her arms tightly folded at her chest, her face against his chest, those words falling from her in a hushed tone.

John Feeling her pull into him, his goal was to get her clean. He had known originally he'd need to shower her but with that transfer, his clothing would need to be burned as well. They had no time for practicalities as he reached for her shirt. Abandoning it briefly before he unbuttoned her bottoms. Guiding those down as well as her panties just in the case there had been a seeping bit of blood before he was at her shirt. "Alright, Spence." He instructed, just needing to get through this before the breakdown.

Spence As her clothes came off, she made no attempt to move, derail him, stop him in any form at all.  There was no moment that the removal of her clothes would ignite something within her.  The light that normally reflected in her hues was all dim, hazed over.  Going through the motions as he rid her of her clothing completely, the same words falling from her lips over and over again.  A step forward and then another, she walked to the bathroom with him, until all of a sudden she stopped.  The red streaks against her skin revealed back to her in the mirror of the bathroom.  Staring at her own reflection, her own skin tone hard to find through the marks of blood that had splattered against her flesh.  The words fell from her no longer as she simply stared at the image in the mirror.  The image of a murderer.  The image of a woman who had taken a life.  A person she couldn’t even recognize.  The trembling that had subsided minutes before began again.  Slowly so before it was unmistakably there, consuming her, blurring her image in the mirror before her.  

John Watching her stop upon those marks on her own flesh, he was felt with the realization that he would have killed the bitch twice if possible for laying hands on his wife. Much less a pregnant one. Say what you will about bikers,  outlaws. They rebelled against structure and their rules weren't many but the ones they did have were held sacred. Possible harm to a child or unborn baby was up there and for what? A potential notch on the bedpost and the totem pole. John was no prize. Anyone who knew his family knew the rumors. The child of Delia James and her cousin. No one else wanted Johnny the way Spence did. He'd pay that loyalty in loyalty as he withdrew his phone. Shooting a quick text to Judas asking him to pick Spence up from the clubhouse and keep her safe as he did some cleaning up at the shop, needing the key to that as well. Putting his phone down, he ran the shower water before stripping himself.

Spence As John managed the text and then stripped, Spencer stood staring at her reflection in that mirror.  It was not her.  The mirror was betraying her.  The trembling in her body had finally erupted as her fist came forward to the mirror, shattering the glass to rain down against the sink and floor, needing to make it just disappear.  Improperly so, as it just left that same splattered red flesh to reflect to her now in shards of glass remaining in the frame of the mirror, the same image over and over again.  Backing away from it, she leaned back against the wall, her hands coming up over her face, frantically wiping away at the blood she wore.  She had felt the shock and still was living through it, but now she would feel the intense remorse at her actions.  “I killed her.”  She whispered, then again and again.  The phrase replacing the one she had relied upon before, now on repeat as she felt her chest tightening.  “I killed her.”  Another confession.  One after another.  Her hands clenched together, busted knuckles from when she had pounded the girl’s face were now cut with shards of glass.  Grasping her hands firmly together, tighter and tighter with each passing moment.

John "What the fuck, Spence!" He roared as she hit that mirror. Not able to take much more from her this morning as she rapidly made this day more difficult and giving him one job after another as he heard her confession as his hands gripped her wrists. Standing in front of her as he inspected her knuckles. The need for stitches most likely now. "You need to fucking stop spiraling. Yeah, you killed her. You set my days plans for me trying to keep you and I out of jail. I don't know how the fuck I'm going to pull this off but I don't have time for anymore breakdowns. You need to keep your shit together for this crisis because I can't fucking leave a body in the backroom because you need to get glass yanked out of your fucking hands!" He was overwhelmed. Not knowing where to start with the woman as he grabbed a towel. Applying pressure to the cut as he now stepped back. His brief attempt at coming up with a plan now demolished. "Don't do anything. Don't move. Don't even consider it." he instructed, taking a seat on the closed toilet lid as he pressed his face into his hands. Trying to figure out what the fuck to do here as his phone text alert came in from his brother. A steady inhale as he could barely read the text within. "I'll be right there." He shook his head, drawing up another quick text. Informing him that she had now hit the mirror and would require medical attention. A prompt text back cooled his head. "Wrap it and get her showered and changed." Slipping the phone to the side, he stood up and finished removing his own clothing. Drawing open the shower curtain for her.

Spence The moment John came in front of her, her eyes were blankly staring at his chest but she heard every word.  He was angry with her.  He should be angry with her.  She deserved that and then some.  She had ruined what was supposed to be a great day; the day they would find out the sex of their child at their long awaited appointment.  As John stepped back from her, she remained where he demanded her to stay, not moving.  The words no longer passed her lips as they only played on repeat now in her mind.  The same three words over and over again.  As the curtain was drawn back, she took the step towards the shower, stepping within those walls.  Standing in the center of the shower, her eyes fell to the shower floor.  John’s words mixing in with her own confessions, tears threatening her eyes to which she would fight back against.  John couldn’t have her break down.  She had ruined his day.  He didn’t have time for her to lose it.  Reminders to herself over and over would keep her from breaking into the meltdown they both knew was looming on the horizon.  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, this time only once.  “My throat.  The bar.  Fucked you.  I killed her.  No air.  The mark.”  Her words were incomplete, leaving large gaps between them, yet the story had been laid out to him of just what had happened.

John Hearing her ramble, he didn't attempt to make sense of it. He had no idea what she was going on about. He knew he'd be better off asking one of the Pagan members who had witnessed this though he still had no clue how he'd pull this off. This could effectively land him in jail. This could end all of his work with the Pagans. This could render him with nothing and he knew it. Blade would without a doubt be hearing about this slip-up. Spence shouldn't have even been in the clubhouse in the first place. This was all his fault. Stepping into the shower, he guided her in front of the shower head to begin to clean off.

Spence With no response from the man but to put her under the water, paired with the ‘talk’ he had given her moments before, left her feeling worse than she had in the first place.  She could get through just about anything if John was at her side, on her side, but she was quickly beginning to feel like a royal fuck up.  The previous image of perfection that donned the Texas girl, or at least what was left of it, was gone.  She’d complicated John’s life.  She’d ended a woman’s life.  Instead of bothering to speak any further, she let the water wash over her, standing as still as she could as John began to cleanse her flesh of her sins.  Meanwhile, her words projected through her mind again.  The recap of the scene, proving she could not plead self defense or insanity as she recalled the events perfectly.  Little did the man behind her realize what had driven her to it.  He had been told by the man previously that the blonde had come after her, but he didn’t know the extent.  He didn’t know how she had been pressed against the bar, her back bent, the back of her head to the shiny surface.  He didn’t know how she had gasped for air under the blonde who wanted so badly to scare her away, who wanted John and John’s status enough to lay hands on the man’s wife.  He didn’t know that first stab to the woman’s side was simply to gain airflow to her lungs again.  Everything between them spoke to premeditation.  She had joked the previous night about killing the woman.  She had teased at how they would clean it up.  He didn’t know the woman claimed to have fucked him, that she knew the markings on his flesh left by Spencer.  He didn’t know that at that moment, Spencer stood before him not only in shock at her own crimes, but thinking the man she loved had turned to another, just as her former had.  It wasn’t the same as it was with Chris, but in that moment, it was no different as she stood there.  Knowing she was not enough.  Knowing he wasn’t completed by her the way she was by him.  Knowing that she was choked within an inch of her life by a woman who claimed to have partaken in the man.  The man who assured her he wasn’t like the hype around the clubs.  He was different.  He loved her.  She had fought against his mother when she warned Spencer that this would happen.  She had stood by John, claiming to know him better, that he wouldn’t do this to them, and yet according to the corpse now being wrapped in a tarp, he had.  The lines were blurring in her mind as to where her actions were based.  The first stab of that knife was most certainly for her need to breathe.  The second, third, forth, fifth, and so on were out of sheer rage at the woman’s claims.  They were just claims, she tried to tell herself, but if they had been, if she had not been with her husband in that regard, how would she know of that mark?  Spencer stood under the water, her thoughts swirling in her head until she leaned forward suddenly, vomit passing her lips down the drain of the shower as it all came to a head for her in that moment.

John Watching the woman suddenly draw forward, he supposed it wasn't a horrible place for it considering yet it all just kept getting better. Every step to stay out of jail was a literal roadblock and this would be no exception. He needed to do something. He'd either lose his shit all together or find an alternative. To cool her down. Summoning up every last ounce of patience in him to reach up. Drawing back her hair to help her with this task. "Breathe, Spence..." he instructed, already stepping out of the shower to flip open the toilet lid. Waiting for a brief reprieve to get her there as one hand remained within her hair.

Spence A woman who had yet to let John witness her suffering morning sickness along the way, who had never so much as allowed the man to see her use the bathroom, leaving it a mystery if she even did, was now on her knees, soaking wet, naked, with no way to fight him on holding back her hair for her.  Both of her arms pressed to the bowl, her hands at her forehead as she attempted to keep herself balanced there, all the while knowing John had her.  Twice more her body would revolt against her before she would lean her head to the side, resting her face against her upper arm as she drew in the breaths John had instructed of her.  With everything coming to a peak there in the shower, she had faced each and every part of what had played out.  It had been relived in her head.  She recalled it all.  Now was the point she would either give into it and ball up on the floor like she wanted to or grab a gun to end it all at the temple, or she would rise up and be the woman John spent his first night with.  The woman who looked in the face of crisis and handled her shit and his.  The woman who married him to keep the both of them out of prison.  The woman who could look at a crime scene, analyze it, fix it to look like something else.  The woman who was quick on her toes, sharp minded, and able to handle anything that came her way.  A kick to her stomach would have her glancing up to John over her own shoulder.  There before him was his wife.  “Thank you,” she managed, her words in a hushed whisper as her voice had barely recovered from the night before, only further damaging her vocal chords with the events over the last five minutes.  Pressing her palms to the seat of the toilet, she rose to her feet, drawing from within her every ounce of strength she had.  Suppressing the words the blonde had spoken, though they would continue to eat away at her from the inside.  She had fallen apart.  But now it was time to rise up and let John take care of her for once instead of her trying to take care of him.  Her role in this would be to do as he said and stay out of his way to let the man do so.  A deep breath later and she was stepping back into the shower, her hands quick to the bottle of liquid soap, lathering it against her hands as she worked to scrub away the remaining blood that still painted her body.

John Helping the woman back into the shower, he watched her hellbent on scrubbing it all away on her own. However, she was missing spots. He could only begin to wonder what was going on in that head of hers as he slipped in once again behind her. Getting her back and the back of her arms in a firm scrub before he was getting himself. Unable to think that she was mad at him for something. Yet, what it was remained to be seen. Cleaning both of them up proved to be quite a task and before he knew it, his phone was going off. Judas had arrived. Stepping out, he went to the bedroom to grab them both a packed towel before he was laying out some of her clothes.

Spence As John worked at her back and arms, she stared down at her hands, gashed from both the assault she had given the woman’s face before stabbing her, as well as the mirror she had shattered minutes before.  Drawing out every shard of glass she could, she flinched under the pain as she caught a glimpse of her protruding belly.  One last apology would leave her lips, as another joke had started to look like a real possibility.  Giving birth to this child in a prison medical ward. The only thing she knew for sure was that John was in the clear as far as the murder went.  He wasn’t even present when it had occurred.  He was alibied out by three onlookers and that would have to suffice.  An accomplice after the fact, but not the murderer.  But even all of that would only come to pass if John was unsuccessful at disposing of the body.  If he was successful, she was nothing more than a tramp that would not be missed by anyone.  Once she was rather sure she had drawn most of the glass from her hand, she cut off the water, reaching out to find the towel.  Drying off with it, her moves were now quick.  There was no pause or delay in her movements or actions.  Coming forth from the bathroom, her eyes went first to John, then to the clothing he had laid out from the bag she had brought from their apartment the night before.  There were still police files scattered against the bed and floor, just as they had been left, a reminder to her of just who she was, just what she was supposed to be.  None of that could be touched on at this moment as she reached out for her clothes, dressing as quickly and silently as possible.  When her eyes met his, she would be reminded of the claims of the woman who was now dead, but quickly she would divert her eyes away from him as to not succumb to the questions she needed answered.  For now, she’d keep on keeping on, because that was what she had to do.  She couldn’t be any further of an inconvenience to the man, even if his supposed whore tried to kill her to get a shot at her ‘position’.  Once her clothes were on, she towel dried her hair, adding the towel to the pile of soiled clothes that would need to be burned.  Silence was not something Spencer often opted for.  If so, it was because her voice was broken, such as the night before.  But now, she was silent.  A fact that was terrifying in and of itself, for if she was silent, she was thinking, and if she were thinking, she could easily turn and react in any way, shape, or form that she thought would benefit John.  It had been proven before and should it come to pass again, an opportunity to present itself, even if she was in limbo at the moment on his loyalties to her, she’d still do what she had to do for the man because when she said she loved someone, it meant she loved them come hell or high water.  In that moment, she had faced hell and was now facing high water.

John Meeting her eyes briefly before she was looking away, he couldn't quite make sense of it. Maybe realization was setting in. What this life of his had brought her to. What this all meant. The woman had the look to her as one about to run for the hills and he couldn't blame her. This had all gotten real very quickly. Between the bump of her stomach and the blood down the shower drain. As she dressed, he grabbed a fresh pair of jeans and a white t-shirt. His cut not far behind as it may just be his last day with it on. Reaching down to collect her files as well as her clothes to collect her bag. Stuffing them all within before he zipped it up. Launching it over his shoulder.

Spence “John, wait.”  The words came forth from her lips before she even realized what she had said.  It had been a thought, never meant to be said out loud, and yet there it was on her lips.  The first words she had said aside from thanking him for holding her hair back.  Her things were packed.  It looked as though she had never been there if it weren’t for the messed up sheets on the bed and the clothing of hers in the burn pile.  He was doing everything right, just as she would have done if she had been thinking clearly in those initial moments afterwards.  Erasing her from the premises.  Finding an alibi that would stick.  Getting her out of there as soon as possible so a true alibi could be formed with just the time frame expanded.  He was on point in every action, just as she had been in their cover up nearly a year before.  As the words slipped through her lips, out there, unable to be tucked back into their box neatly, she stepped towards him, both battered hands taking to the sides of his face as she looked into his eyes.  Deep within those hues before her where she knew truth resided.  She needed to face it down before he shipped her off.  She needed to know that even though the rest of the world was crumbling around them, uncertainty at every corner, she needed to know if that woman had lied to her.  She needed to know, perhaps now more than ever, if John loved her.  If he was true to her.  It wasn’t the time, nor was it the place, but it didn’t matter as their lives hung in the balance.  A silent moment there at his eyes was revered as it should be, before she drew in a full breath.  “I love you.”  She stated plainly.  They had been over those words a million times before they had been exchanged.  She knew he only said them if he meant them and meaning them would mean there was no possibility of the woman’s claims being valid.  “I love you.”  She repeated again, knowing he had heard her the first time, but needing just that moment with him before the whirlwind morning became a roller coaster of a day that would more than likely result in hours of separation.  She needed him more than she had ever said out loud, and in that moment, it was resonating from her in volumes.  

John Hearing her speak as he collected another item of clothing of hers he had missed, he laid it on the bed. Unzipping the bag to shove it in. Detecting almost uncertainty, he glanced back towards her. “I love you too…” he stated simply, not sure what had prompted it but the days events didn’t change anything between them. He was just in a mad scramble to clean it all up though a moment of uncertainty about how he could do this was inevitable. He still wasn’t quite sure. There were witnesses. He couldn’t kill them and he couldn’t bribe them. Or could he? To blackmail other brothers would be plain out dangerous. “Is there something you need to tell me? Or ask me because…I can’t help but to think that you are lookin’ at me like I did something and I’d like to know what I did..."

Spence With the words returned, they were more than enough to give her the confidence to move forward in what needed to be done.  She wasn’t prepared for that which would come from him beyond that.  He was in tune to her in ways that she wouldn’t always be aware of, but in that moment, he had proven this fact.  “You didn’t do anything,” she assured.  Moments before, she might have been back and forth on the issue at hand, but now, she knew.  She knew John couldn’t look her in the eyes and utter words that sacred without them being the end all.  There was no room for smiles or sentiments in this situation, and yet there would be a hint of it there at her lips.  The woman had provoked her, manipulated her, and gotten exactly what she deserved in the end of things.  Remorse was now gone from her as she had just shown just what John’s wife was capable of.  It was not her intent to begin with, but it would be the aftermath.  A woman could only take so much shit before she would snap and unfortunately for that blonde, it was then that she had snapped.  It was almost a year of the same shit that would ultimately result in the woman’s death.  “I just love you.”  She offered, taking that step back from him so they could go.  She might not have been privy to John’s plan, but she was playing her part in it.  She was not bucking against him in the slightest.  Allowing him to blindly lead her through this, she asked no questions.  He had given her this same respect on the first night they spent together nearly a year before and she’d repay it to him now.

John "Tell me..." he demanded, taking a seat on the bed as another text went off from Judas. He needed to know what it was before they took a step further in this. What had prompted this? Did she just snap? This wasn't the woman he married. There had to be something that prompted something so visceral in response. He needed to figure this out as he grabbed a nearby trashbag to dispose of the old clothes after she had made him understand.

Spence When John wouldn’t let it rest, the flood gates would come open.  As he sat on the edge of the bed, the rush to get out of the room seemed to go with it.  She wasn’t losing it any longer.  She was in a place that she could actually tell him what had happened without the fear of breakdown.  Stepping over towards him, she sat down next to him, drawing one leg up against the bed as she sat facing him.  “I went to get coffee.  When I got back, she was there but I didn’t see her.  She said something, but I didn’t realize at first that she was speaking to me.  She said something about you.  I stopped, turned around, but then turned back around.  I wasn’t going to entertain her until she said something I couldn’t ignore.  She said it was amazing how you could fuck and fuck and still have anything left over for me.”  She drew in a full breath as she recalled the woman’s voice still in her mind.  “I told her I didn’t know what game she was playing, but I wouldn’t be a part of it.  I tried to walk away, but then she went on and on, telling me about how you would fuck her.  I hit her.  Repeatedly.  Until she pinned me to the bar.  When she had me there, it was then that she gave details.  Details that she shouldn’t have known.  Telling me how hard it was for her to keep her mouth to the marks you bear on your skin.  She knew them.  She knew the marks I had left below your boxers.  She went on, and on, and she wouldn’t shut up about how you fuck her.  The first time I stabbed her, it was to get her to let go.  I was already blacking out from the hold she had on my throat.  But once she let go… I couldn’t stop.”  With the full version of the story out there before him, it might have seemed random for her to speak it now, so unprompted, but it would explain the answer to what he had asked her in the first place.

John Hearing her speak about his apparent sex habits, he rolled his eyes. Pressing his elbows to his knees. He knew the woman had been feeling herself and her own line of bullshit. But this? He brushed his fingers through his hair, shooting Judas a barely literate text. As a barely literate man, this can hardly be surprising. There were times he was tempted to ask her how to spell things. The words in those files of hers were unlike anything he'd ever seen. "She knew about the shit on my stomach because she came in when you were gone...I was napping a nap and my boxers were probably riding down. She gripped me up and I kicked her the fuck out." He explained simply, scratching his nails over the back of her neck. "You really think I can fuck three times a day and look for more? Pretty sure it ain't even physically possible."

Spence Feeling his nails to the back of her neck, she appreciated that contact as he put things into perspective for her.  She had enough about her to have been able to know this herself, but when someone is standing there, telling you intimate details, marks on flesh, it makes it hard to think logically.  He hadn’t told her the blonde had been in the room, or the fact that she had touched what was rightfully hers or the woman might’ve been dead twenty-four hours before.  Spencer kept this thought to herself, knowing John knew what he was doing in not telling her in the first place.  “I know,” she whispered, for she did.  She knew she had nothing to worry about in this regard as it was one of the first things John had ever assured her of, but it hadn’t stopped her from losing it when the air was leaving her lungs.  “I know how they look at me.  All of them.  I know they look at us and think there is no way that we work.  Your family, your club, my parents.  And maybe that was her game.  Maybe she just wanted me to run so she’d have a shot with you.  I don’t know.  But when her hand was around my throat, I wasn’t able to put such things together.  At first, I needed air.  And then I needed her to shut up.”  The truth was, after the realization that John hadn’t done the things the woman accused, she was glad she shut her up.  She wouldn’t say such a thing, yet.  But it was true.  And if word spread throughout the club that John’s wife wouldn’t tolerate such shit, it might not be the worst thing to happen in the end, if John could manage to keep them out of prison.  An apology burned at her tongue, yet she had said enough of them previously and her sorrow for her actions was dying a little more with each passing moment.  Perhaps she was losing a piece of herself there or perhaps she was becoming exactly who she was meant to be.  John’s wife who wouldn’t take any shit any more.

John He couldn't say he blamed her. He just wished it had been a better place. No witnesses. Easy discard. He exhaled slow. The wave of responsibility flush against his own windpipe. "Just.. I'm going to have Judas take you to your appointment. I don't know if I'll be able to make it but just go with him and let him do what he wants for you. He will anyway. He just wants to help...sometimes has a weird way showing it but he means well." Realizing he didn't need to prep her about his brothers character, she was after all a fan of him and knew his intricate character that was unashamed and loud where Johnny was not. He lived in his brothers shadow but it had never been intentional. The two were bound my blood, loyalty and the fact that they always protected one another. This would be no different. "I bet if you knew the price of murder was spending the day with the dimpled Brat prince himself you might have done it sooner, huh?" He added, attempting to tease.

Spence “J—“ The first sound of his name was already on her tongue before he went on, insisting she allow Judas to take her to the appointment.  There was but a shake of her head as she lowered her gaze downward, hating the very thought of it.  She’d find her way out of that one without bothering him with the details of it.  John had enough on his plate at the moment, thanks to her, not to have to worry about the rest.  She didn’t know how much of River’s pregnancy he had been involved in, but there was no way in hell she’d be finding out the sex of their child without him right there, holding her hand.  Spencer and Judas’ relationship had always been a teasing one.  They seemed to try to get the best of the other, poking and prodding figuratively.  She couldn’t picture him being the one in that room.  She couldn’t picture him at her side at all, in truth.  She knew she needed the alibi and that she needed things to look as ordinary as possible, but John missing that appointment was going to look anything but customary.  “It’s almost seven hours from now,” she reminded him, thinking that would be plenty of time for him to perhaps make it.  Her hand found his thigh as she sat on the bed beside him, leaning her head against his shoulder as they took that slow moment before all hell would break loose again.  Drawing in a deep breath, she cut her eyes at his little joke there, not finding it humorous at all as something to the same tune had been thrown around in accusation previously.  “Not a chance.  But if not for him, I wouldn’t have you,” she commented honestly as it had been that night of Judas’ show, followed by an after party, that she would first lay eyes on John James at the side of Gia.  She almost managed a smile as she recalled that first night, being drawn to him physically before she even knew his name.  Gia’s hand being the one that would urge her in that direction, a place Spence had yet to look back from.  “If I realized she’d touched you, I would’ve done it sooner,” she confessed honestly.

John "I said I 'might' not. I'd rather tell you now just incase somethin' goes wrong. This ain't an easy process, Spence. It's time consuming." He stated honestly, not sure whether she knew the extent of detail this would take just to get rid of the body. Much less to work with witnesses. He inhaled sharply. Washing off that tightening effect. He heard her shrug off Judas but he knew better. He knew who her eyes had fallen upon that night but it was nothing new. It had always been Judas. It always would be. Johnny was just his brother. Standing to his feet, he collected her bag. "Alright, let's get shit rollin.'"

Spence As he rose from the bed, she lifted her head from where she had rested that moment at his shoulder.  It had been fleeting, but a moment nonetheless.  Standing a moment behind him, she offered a silent nod of her head as she faced the near future without him.  She should be leaving for work, turning in her notice for desk duty, and yet she was slipping off as though she’d never been there.  Gnawing at her lower lip, she had half a mind to stop him, to tell him just to let her take the fall for this, yet she knew it was of no use and would only serve to slow progress even further.  The last thing she wanted from him was another tongue lashing.  Instead, she would quietly slip her small hand within his, walking towards the door of the room, putting every ounce of trust she had in that man and his abilities to handle those details the way he had trusted her the first morning they woke up together to find themselves in a somewhat similar situation.  

John Guiding the bag over his shoulder, he gave her hand a gentle squeeze. Guiding her out of the club and to the side door where a 68' Camaro sat idle. A black paint job with a deep purple racing stripe.the engine impatiently. As if the car wasn't distinct enough, the Beastie Boys pounding from within was further reminder. If one was at all necessary. Approaching the car, he thumped a particularly heavy hand to the trunk. The music was automatically haulted. A grunt within. "What you do with your wife ain't none of my business but don't you go smacking my woman's ass. She don't like it." Revving the engine as proof, he popped the trunk. Johnny rolled his eyes as he placed her bag within.

Spence The car was heard before it was seen, instantly causing Spencer to glance upwards towards John, pleading eyes asking for another way.  If there was any optimism in the woman before this moment, it was now officially gone.  She’d sooner spend the day with her own parents at this point.  There had been a time that Spencer was drawn to Judas, along with most anyone else at any one of his given concerts, but now?  Spencer was so far away from that time period it was almost as if it didn’t exist.  Hearing John’s warning to Judas, she shook her head.  “Won’t be a problem,” she assured.  Not only for the band on her hand, the last name she bore, along with her waistline as it was, John still wouldn’t have had something to be concerned over, but all things considered, the woman was as much his as was humanly possible and fairly certain she couldn’t be any more unattractive at that point in time.  If Chris Wilson’s monthly calls couldn’t draw her attention away from John, a morning of alibi solidification with Judas wouldn’t stand a chance.  After her bag was in the car, she leaned against the car, eyes up to John’s.  “Yeah.”  She offered, adhering to the rules outside of the bedroom as they were, yet communicating three words to him without saying anything more.

John "He's just teasing." He reminded her, as he wasn't taking the comment too seriously as his brother slipped out of the car. Remarkably more natural than his usual hair bleached self. Stubbled beard standing in place of what once laid there. A few inches taller than him as he approached. Johnny closed the trunk as Judas was fishing his keys out of his jean pockets and handing it over. "Front door, supply closet and the hotbox. Just clean up when you are done." Johnny nodded at the instruction, knowing this routine well. "I got the guest bedroom set up for you and the lady. Come over when you are done and crash with me for a bit. Shit, I've been trying to get him to live with me permanently for years now but the motherfucker don't like  me that much anymore." Judas teased, addressing Spence as Johnny knew he could have whatever he wanted from his brother but refused to ask. "I'll come by when I'm done. Thank you for all this, J..." Johnny managed, Judas smirking. "You don't gotta' thank me, you saved my ass from drownin' in my own soup time and time again. Don't worry about anything." The musician bided, causing Johnny to turn. Pressing a kiss to Spence's forehead before he was guiding her to the passenger side door.

Spence It had been some time since Spencer had seen any one of the James’ aside from John, much less to see two of them in the same place.  As the two exchanged instruction and gratitude, Spencer simply remained quiet as there was not much place for her in any of this.  She already knew she had cut the job out for John that day and ruined far more than a girl’s life.  Feeling that kiss to her forehead, she closed her eyes as she felt his hand there guiding her into the vehicle and into Judas’ custody.  Slipping down into the seat, her hand lifted, lingering at his for just a moment before she’d rest her hand against her own thigh without her ‘yeah’ returned verbally, the kiss would speak the sentiment for him.  “I’ll see you later,” she whispered, as though it were the most casual of goodbyes instead of that which it truly was.  That nervous bite to her lower lip was present as she bid her farewell to him, trying her best to treat it as any other morning she would leave for work, yet within her mind she knew it was anything but.

John Johnny didn’t mean to leave out his ‘yeah.’ He was just overwhelmed. Yet, if this all didn’t speak to his love for her then what would? Everyone saw it. Try as he might to hide it. People were catching on. Before long, it would be time to change things up. At least publicly, to give everyone the impression that it was all falling apart. He’d worry about that when he was sure they were pierced together. One breakdown at a time. “Yeah…” seizing the opportunity to make good on that, he met her eyes once she had slipped within the car. Closing the passenger side door for her. 

“No stunts, J. Nothin’ crazy. Need this one alive.” he bid to his brother, already approaching the drivers side and ready to climb within. He exchanged a narrow of his eyes at the statement. “Crazy? When have you ever known me to be crazy?” Giving up a none too calming chuckle at the suggestion, Johnny knew he’d be on best behavior. There was something keeping the eldest James at ease now days. Even past probation. He wasn’t sure what was, but the break down everyone had expected had not happened. Yet. 

Stepping back, he watched as the Camaro pulled from the back alley. Disappearing from his eyes. He took a moment to breath in this situation. Accidentally, the exhaust from the vintage muscle car. Not wasting a moment later as he slipped back into the clubhouse. Stopping at the supply closet where he gathered the essentials. A tarp, gloves and a box cutter for where he’d inevitably have to pull up the carpet. Knowing that this disposal of a body would come with the need to reinstall a new carpet. Else where, Judas was controlling the muscle car with all the expertise of a kid who had been stealing grandma’s car since he was 13. Turning down the music, side eyeing the woman beside him that was essentially a stranger. Judas didn’t like strangers. He liked being close to people, making them feel at home. Yet, this situation would be a tough one to break.

“You need to stop anywhere before we head back? I know Johnny kinda’ wants me to lock you under key and there will probably be a time for all that but…in the meantime, you need anything? Sh*t from your place, his place, food?” the musician suggested, brows furrowing in thought before side eyeing her once again as he stopped at a red-light headed onto Broad Street. The heart of the city. Just where he lived in a multi-million dollar penthouse atop the city skyline. 

“I mean…even if you wanted to stop and grab a hooker real quick, I wouldn’t judge. I don’t judge nobody.” the man assured, attempting to make light with the constant exchange of eyes to assure he wasn’t upsetting her.

Spence There was a time Spencer sat in awe at the man beside her.  Just merely sitting in his car, hearing him offer to stop off somewhere should she need or want to would have been something of a dream for her just a year or so prior.  She could easily recall sitting on her bed in McKinney, Texas, listening to the man’s words in her ears as she brought the blade to her skin for the first time.  She felt none of that now as she sat there, being whisked off by the man to a solid alibi while her husband handled the mess she had made.  It was all weighing down on her, causing her mood to shift sporadically.  Before she could answer his first question, barely letting it fully register within her mind, there was another.  This one would draw a small grin from the tiny cop who would shake her head no.  

“Nah, I’m good.”  She stated, though it was far from the truth.  She wasn’t good.  She wasn’t comfortable.  Yet she could sense he was trying, and thus she should too.  But how could she do so when she knew what John was facing alone at the moment?  At least the last time they went through something like this, they did so together.  Perks of not knowing one another at that point.  No one had to protect anyone but themselves.  This time, she knew John was protecting her as much as he was protecting himself or the club.  Maybe more.

As Judas drove, Spencer withdrew her phone from her pocket, composing a text message to Detective Ryan.  Not feeling so well today.  Let Serg know, please.’ The text was explanatory enough to those who knew her condition, one of which was her partner who would ensure the secret stayed under wraps, not knowing she was going to be slipping off to desk duty requests that day.  Another day.  Everything had to wait for another day.  Next,  her finger hovered over her doctor’s office’s number, prepared to call for a reschedule.  There was no way she could let Judas take her, should John not be back in time.  She just couldn’t.  He might’ve been family, yet he still felt like a distant relative perhaps, but definitely a celebrity which she had nothing in common with.

“I’m sorry you got dragged into this, but we probably need to get my story straight, should either of us be asked for it.”  She stated, official as ever.  Just as she had been in the previous murder case she was tied to with John, everything was in the details and making sure the details could not be changed by any member of the involvement along the way.  “So, clearly I was never at the club.  How’d I get to your place and why?”  She asked, turning to look at the man fully for the first time since he got into the car beside her.  “This is a fucking mess,” she confessed, shaking her head.  The thought lingering there within her mind that it would be all too easy to just confess to this, fight on the stand of self defense, her badge and upstanding record speaking for itself.  It would all be easier than this shit, and mostly true to boot.

Judas Hearing her apologize, Judas was instantly prone to a shake of his head. “Believe it or not, I’ve gotten worse calls…” he explained to her, knowing that might have been hard to believe. Hell, what was worse than having to get rid of a body? But he had. Life had not been easy for the James’ clan. Least of all the two oldest ones who had interchanged positions of leadership since the beginning. One picking up when the other one dropped off and vice versa. Just needing to keep it all together even if peace was just a semblance of it. Even if it was all tied together with paperclips and chewing gum. It was what they were used to. Hearing her officially get under police business, he nodded. He didn’t know much of the woman except for her occupation. Upon hearing his brother had married a cop, he had been initially shocked yet looked back at the man’s genius. They both should have married cops. Maybe she had a cop sister? Once upon a time, Judas and Johnny had vowed to never get married. Yet, with Johnny having broken his vow, Judas wasn’t truthfully kept to his. 

“Okay…” he stated with ease, giving it a moment of thought as he echoed such in silence. A drum of his fingers against the wheel, a jump of his leg. Having a hard time thinking. Focusing. “What if you and Johnny got into a fight? He called me to come pick you up ‘cause he couldn’t take it anymore…sounds like something Johnny would do.” he remarked honestly under his breath, knowing she would agree. “I’m cool with my door guy. I can pass him a few dollars to go along with it all…he saw you at this time…you just gotta’ get that sh*t figured out for me and we’ll do it.” he stated honestly, flipping on a turn signal where he drove into an abrupt underground parking garage which had led under the crust of Broad Street where the Comcast Tower laid above.

Spence As Judas spoke, she was already finding reasons it wouldn’t work.  It wouldn’t sound right to anyone that knew her within the department.  She couldn’t just be told to leave and leave.  She couldn’t be called for.  Gnawing at her lower lip as he drove into the underground lot, she was working things through as quickly as she could.  “Wait.”  She stated quickly, returning that bite to her lower lip as she closed her eyes, trying to see it through her own eyes as if it had truly happened.  “We keep the part about the fight.  It’s not far fetched that we would get into it.  But if John told me to leave, I’d tell him he could.  So it doesn’t work.  I don’t do as I’m told…” It was a lie if they were talking about certain situations, but in this one, it was the truth.  She wouldn’t leave if told to.  There had to be something else.

“Option A:  John and I got into a fight.  I got pissed and left.  I can’t call my parents because they hate John and thus hate me now… I called you.  Needed somewhere to go because my apartment… Fuck.  My apartment.  Why wouldn’t I go there?  Company.  I didn’t want to be alone…”  She wasn’t quite certain on the optics for that one, but it could still have a play.  “Option B:  You were there when it went down.  John and I were fighting and you suggested we let John cool off.  We left.  I fell asleep at your place.  In either scenario, when John arrives, it is for us to make up, then we go home together.”

Meeting his eyes with her own, she shrugged.  She wasn’t on her game in the slightest, yet she was working through it all as quickly as she could.  “Option C:  I make the call.  I did it.  Self defense.  I don’t let John deal with my own mess.”  The irrational side of her had her phone still in hand, swiping out of the screen to call the ob/gyn and instead hovering over the name of her Sergeant.  A slip of her finger would commit her to that call, yet she kept her hand just beneath the phone as she stared down at the easiest route through this.  “Whataya think?”

Chapter 15

Wednesday, July 1 (1:36 am) We just landed! 

(1:36) Get to the hotel safely, okay? :)

(1:37) Yes m’am. :)) (1:37) Are you sleeping?? 

(1:37) No, I was waiting for you to text me.

(1:38) Stop doing that.

(1:38) Doing what?

(1:38) Making me want to go back to the airport and go to you. ;)

(1:39) Ha ha ha. I’m going to sleep. Good night DJ. (1:39) And good luck at your show tomorrow! 

"Is my butt red?" I whispered to Wynter. I turned around and exposed the shimmery thong I was wearing to her.

She shook her head no, "Why?"

"I fell earlier."

She smiled, "Right."

I knew she wasn't convinced. But I just smirked, playfully rolling my eyes, and left it at that.

I walked back to my vanity, running my fingers through my straight, black hair.

I could still feel the mild sting he caused with every slap he gave.

Pain was something I realized I liked, and I needed more of it. Not too much, but a good amount.

I crossed my legs as I felt a small tingle in my most sensitive area, from the flashbacks I was having.

The clock hit nine, and it was time to go.

After my lovely performance, my bracelet buzzed. I was happy to see Drake, so without an ounce of hesitation, I got up and walked to his office.

I was let in by Noah, who was very welcoming of me. Drake was the one to hand the drop to me. But he kept things very casual.

He didn't compliment me, or kiss me, like I was expecting. He had his friendly face on. And as much as I didn't mind it, a part of me wanted that PDA to go down.

But you're not in a relationship, Selena. Don't forget it.

I walked out.

A group of white men came in, professional men with outstanding careers, I can tell. They still had their suits on, and I know a Cartier bracelet when I see one.

One of them was attractive. He calmly adjusted his tie and smiled at me.

"Welcome to Daddy's Jewels. We have the best drinks and the best women. Which one did you come for?" I smiled.

He smiled, "Both, maybe."

"Well, get comfortable. And I'll be right with you." I kept my smile on my face.

I made my drop, and soon after, searched the club for the group of men.  

I walked to them, and put my grin back on my face.

"Are you interested in any of the ladies around you?"

One of them nodded, "The one with the red hair."

I looked at Angel's burgundy curls.

"Her name's Angel. She'd love to keep you company. Go to her. You'll enjoy yourself."

I gave all of them a person they'd probably be into. But only one of them stuck to me.

"And you don't want any of the other girls?" I asked the man with the golden Cartier bracelet.

"No, you're far more interesting."

"How so, sir?"

"You look exotic."

If only he knew how regular I looked at home. That was my preferred look.

"I'm not, actually."

"Where are you from?"

"Cuba."

He nodded, "I'm Mitchell. You?"

"Luna."

"Luna, huh? Sounds very beautiful. How'd you end up working here?"

I wrinkled my eyebrows, "Is that really important?"

He shrugged, "Just curious. I want to know the mind of a stripper," he sat down in as comfortable chair.

"What exactly would you like to know?"

He looked up at me, "Like... did you always want to do this? Or was it like a last resort sort of thing?"

"Sort of a last resort. But I enjoy it, nonetheless."

He nodded, "You dance like those girls do?" His eyes observed the other girls.

I nodded, "I'm just not as good. Well, in my opinion, I'm not."

"Who's the owner of this place?" He continued to observe.

"Well he's in his office. Would you like me to get him for you?"

He shook his head no, "No. Just curious of who's the genius to create such a wonderful place."

I giggled and followed where his eyes were moving. They were looking at Honey. And she was looking right back.

He smiled, "Well I think I found somebody I might be interested in."

"Go for her," I smiled.

He got up and did so.

When the night was over, I was in the vanity removing all my makeup when my phone vibrated.

I checked it.

Drake: Remember I brought you here, so I have to drive you home... or would you rather come to my place?

Selena: Home, please.

Drake:  Come into my office whenever you're ready.

I smiled and continued to remove my makeup and put my long, black hair into a ponytail. I put on an adidas t-shirt, adidas leggings, and Nike running sneakers. Comfort was always better than looking pretty, to me.

I held my hat and cellphone in my hand, as I carried my duffle bag and I walked to Drake's office.

I knocked and Chubbs let me in.

I smiled and waved at him.

He smiled back and greeted me with a nod.

"Where's Drake?"

"In the room we do our stuff at."

And by "stuff" he meant weighing and bagging the drugs.

I nodded and headed to the room where everything we sold was stored. He was cleaning things up.

"Hey, you need help?"

He turned to me and smiled, "No, thank you, I'm almost done."

I stood at the door and leaned my head onto the wall, watching him in admiration.

When he finished, he walked to me and grabbed me by my waist.

I smiled, "Your friend's still in the office," I reminded him.

He smiled, "What, Chubbs? That's my boy."

"All the guys who are usually in here are 'your boys', aren't they?"

"Yes, but Chubbs is like.. my main boy."

I giggled, "He's your best friend?"

"Yea. You can say that."

I smiled, "Are we gonna get going?"

"Yes, we are," he kissed my forehead before pulling me by my wrist outside the room.

"Can y'all do that shit elsewhere?" Chubbs looked at us in disgust, "Matter of fact, I have no reason to be here, I'll see y'all later," he grabbed his phone and left.

I laughed and so did Drake.

"You see what you did?" He grabbed his things and smirked.

I gasped, "I didn't do anything... you're the one who was being all lovey. For somebody who's not my man, you're pretty touchy today."

"And for a girl who isn't my woman, you somehow always find your way into my head," he locked his safe.

I smirked, "Aw, you think about me?"

"Perhaps."

I giggled, "I take that as a yes."

"You better take ya ass out my office, I'm closing now," he smirked, putting his keys added phone in his pocket.

I gasped, "Say it nicely."

"Okay... can you please take your ass out my office?"

I glared at him, "We'll work on your manners when we get to your house," I walked out.

"To my house?" He walked behind me, "I thought I was taking you home."

"Maybe I want to be in your house? What, are you bringing another female over your house at 5:30 in the morning?"

"Stop," He locked his office door.

"I'm just wondering."

"No... I just thought you wanted to go home. That's what your text said."

"Well I changed my mind. Is that an issue?"

"You know what? I know how I can fix that mouth of yours."

"How?"

"You'll see," he pressed a button on his key fob to unlock his car, "Wait in the car."

I did as I was told as he closed down gates on the club.

He soon sat inside the car, and we drove off.

We somehow ended up on his bed as soon as we got to his house.

"Should we shower before we go to bed?"

"We aren't going to bed," he finished typing something on his phone and then he locked it, "and I took a shower before I got to work."

"So did I," I folded my arms.

"Yea but you were dancing and all that shit in the sweaty ass club. I was in my office, nice and cool."

"So only I have to shower?"

"If you want to."

"But I want you to get in with me."

"We'll be doing something else.. when you get out."

"Like?"

"Remember when I told you I know how I can fix that mouth?"

"Yea," I bit my lip.

"Exactly. Go shower. I'll probably already be naked by the time you get out. Go."

I giggled, "Fine."

I wandered off to the bathroom, grabbing a towel from his closet. And I tried to think of what he meant by 'fix my mouth' but I just decided to just let myself be surprised.

When I got out the bathroom he was under the blanket and his chest was bare. My hair got slightly wet in the shower, since I didn't bring a shower cap, so I just decided to wet the whole thing.

"Drop your towel, please."

I giggled, "Oh, now you have manners?"

"Please?" He smiled boyishly.

I smirked and dropped my towel and continued to walk towards him.

"Thank you," his eyes watched me with the same smile on his face.

I sat next to him, "So how will you fix my mouth?" I gently tapped my fingers on his length through the blanket. He was only semi-erected.

He smirked, "God bless your parents."

I laughed, "Why my parents?"

"They made such a sexy young woman."

"You know a lot of sexy young women, what makes me different?"

"Everything."

I looked down trying to hide my burning red cheeks.

"Now... would you get down on your knees for me?" He rubbed on my thigh.

"Do I have to?"

"I wasn't really asking you, in all honesty... even though it came out that way."

I couldn't help but to bite on my lip. His dominance made my body ache for him.

I got down on my knees and he stood up in front of me. He was fully erect now.

"You don't really know how to do this, right?" He tucked hair behind my ears.

"Not at all, but I'll try," I looked up at him. I grabbed his shaft, and moved his tip to touch my lips, gently. I softly kissed it, before putting it into my mouth.

"Try to slightly curve your lips around your teeth... otherwise it'll hurt," his hands were on the back of my head.

I did as he said, and slowly bobbed up and down. I kept my eyes on him searching for approval.

His eyebrows furrowed together, but he didn't say anything.

I stopped, "Is something wrong?"

"No.. you're doing well. Now try to alternate the way you are sucking... I'll show you. Put it back into your mouth."

I loved how he spoke to me like that, it made me drip.

He gently grabbed both sides of my head and pushed my head down not too far, sort of making it do a slight twist as it went back up. He did it a few more times before letting go of my head, "Now, you try it."

I nodded, putting him halfway into my mouth, and slowly reenacting what he made me do.

"Try it a little bit faster."

I listened and did as commanded.

He bit his lip, as he let me do it for a minute or two before stopping me. His hand was on my chin, and I loved how that felt... it made me feel like I was making him feel good for once.

"Spit on it."

I wrinkled my eyebrows, "What?"

"Spit on it," he repeated.

"You.. you want me to do that?"

He chuckled, "Yes.. that's what you should do."

"But... what difference will that make?"

"It'll make it wetter."

"I mean... it won't be a lot. It won't change anything."

"That means my dick isn't deep enough in your mouth to create the kind of spit I'm talking about. Now suck it how I taught you. And deep enough that it's at least touching the back of your mouth."

I nodded, putting him back into my mouth. I was loving this, and I didn't know why. I did what he told me to do. And a few minutes later, just like he said, I could feel a thick type of saliva inside of my mouth.

I pulled him out of my mouth, and spit it out along his shaft. I rubbed it onto his length, stroking him with my hand. I looked up at him, and he had his lip bitten.

"I'm gonna fuck the shit out of you."

I smirked, before putting him back into my mouth, and repeating as I did before. And again, as he said, it was wetter. My eyes didn't leave his face. I wanted to watch him.

"Do you want me to nut in your mouth? Or somewhere else?"

"My mouth," I continued to suck on him.

"Will you swallow?"

I shook my head no, not knowing if I was ready for exactly that.

"It's okay, you don't have to, Luna. Put both of your hands on it, and move them up and down with your mouth."

Luna? I did as he told me.

"Don't stop, okay?"

I nodded. I continued to stroke both of my hands while I sucked on him, but I couldn't help but think... did he really just call me Luna outside of work?

"Shit," he mumbled under his breath.

I looked up at him, and he was already focused on me. His eyebrows were furrowed together again, "I'm going to fuck the shit out of you, I promise," he repeated himself.

I smirked, and continued.

"Are you ready?"

I nodded.

"Fuck," he grunted and then softly moaned, as I could feel something warm and gooey fill my mouth. I closed my eyes tightly, trying to contain how horrible it had tasted.

"Wow," he whispered as he pulled himself out. He got a tissue from off of his end table and handed it to me.

I happily spit it all out into the tissue, and I closed it up.

"Give it to me."

I handed him the tissue and he walked to his master bathroom to flush it down the toilet.

I stood up, and gently touched my lips with my own finger, proud of what I had done for him but shocked that I had done it.

I heard his footsteps come closer, and he slapped my ass.

I turned around to him, "Was that good for my first try?"

"It was great for your first try," he pecked my lips.

I smiled, "I'm happy it was. By the way, you should consider a better diet. That tasted terrible."

"Shut up and get that ass in the bed," he gripped both of his hands on my ass.