Charity's Warrior Read online

  I melted. Be careful!

  We got into the first car that came down and this time Justin let me press the one for my floor. I reached out and grabbed his hand and he squeezed mine back.

  There was a slight change in him when we got off of the elevator upstairs, nervousness, and I knew it the moment that I saw it. Thank God for Lena—again! His soul was exposed. Earlier he had touched on his big childhood secrets, and now he was revealing some of his emotion towards me, admitting that he's not getting enough of me. Both had gone well, but that was not the point for him. This was his limit for today, for now, and he wanted to stop himself before things moved too fast.

  He came into my room, but that was just to look around, to make sure that I was safe. He didn't sit, and I knew he was about to come up with an exit for the night. Something to get him out before I asked him to stay, because he might not have the strength to say no.

  "Listen," he started, "you've had a long day and an even longer night, so I want you to get some rest. I'm gonna jet home to get out of your way."

  "Okay," I said, walking over to him. "I'd offer you a drink or something but I don't have anything." I put my hands on his waist in a soft embrace. "Thank you for tonight—for all of tonight."

  Justin laughed, relaxing out his tension, and I kissed him. That was how the night needed to end, letting him off the hook without any clinginess or self-doubt of my own, just a laugh and a kiss. He was much more himself when I closed the door behind him.

  BEFORE I TURNED BACK into my room, I remember the sound of Justin's hand on my ass and the echo it made, how anyone could have walked into the garage and heard us.

  My clit twitched.

  I ignore it for now, and grab my Panther laptop. I sat on the bed with it to double check the schedules for tomorrow, wondering if I will feel tired soon.

  Everything is in order for the morning, so I do a little more shopping for the apartment. I am obsessing, I know, but it's the only thing I can do right now. I desperately want to call my friend Melissa back home and tell her all about what Justin had just done to me downstairs. She would die! But I am afraid she might be more upset at me than jealous, for taking such a risk. I'll tell her, just not now, not yet. After a little while, I find a few things from Macys that I had to have for the new place, and I check out.

  I put the laptop down on the bed and left to take a shower. As I washed my hair, I thought about Justin's tongue running up my leg to my ass. When I was washing my body, I remembered his fingers on my clit. Rinsing off, I could almost feel his hands pulling me onto his swollen cock. Drying off made me think of him licking my cheek where his cum had dripped.

  Obviously, my clit had not been fully satisfied by the wonderful G-spot orgasm, and its throbbing urges were calling me. I cannot stop thinking about the things he did to me, his wet tongue poking in and out of me, sucking my clit but giving it no release. I want him back in here finishing me, I want to feel his cock rubbing on my clit, but that's not going to happen. My bullet vibrator was going to be my only salvation.

  I left the towels on the bathroom floor and went hunting through my suitcase, finding the bullet buried right where it should be. I jumped onto the bed, rolled to my back, and opened my legs wide. For a moment, as I saw my laptop still sitting there and powered on, I thought about watching some porn, mostly for the background noise, but the second I turned on the bullet and it touched my clit, I knew I wouldn't need it.

  I close my eyes and think about Justin and the things he did to me. Within seconds my hips are pumping and the wetness is dripping out of me. That turns me on because I know if Justin was here he would be growling at the taste of me, lapping me up. The way he licked and sucked on me, it was as if making me cum was all it took to make him climax.

  My pussy is pulsing under the vibrations. I am close, moments away. I rubbed my nipple with my free hand and pretended it was Justin. I fantasize that he's come back to the room and caught me masturbating, and he is spanking me for it while rubbing my clit.

  That was all I could take. I was cumming. This orgasm was softer and relieving, but compared to what Justin did to me, it was only pacifying.

  My heaving chest slowed, and I straighten my legs out across the bed cover, enjoying the coolness of the sheets. I shut off my bullet and dropped it next to the laptop. It had done its job for tonight. Sleep could actually be a possibility now.

  A few minutes later I grabbed the laptop to shut it down for the night. I slid it closer and pounded on the power button. Windows warned that it was shutting down, and I watched the lights to be sure it was off. Right away one light caught my eye as I didn't recall seeing it before. It was a circle with a dot in it, and that told me nothing.

  There was only a few seconds to look at it, then the screen went black and a few lights went out, including that one. A few seconds after that, all the lights went out, along with my curiosity.

  I got up with the laptop and put it away in its bag. The Bullet went back in my suitcase, and I opened the drawer I'd been using and pulled out panties and a T-shirt to sleep in.

  The night was done. I shut off the light and got into bed.

  CHAPTER IV

  Lunch with the girls was fun, as it usually was, a nice break in the day. Last week, getting ready for my apartment didn't leave too much time, but I got out with them on Friday, and then all three days of this week so far.

  My apartment is coming along wonderfully; I was so happy getting my furniture Saturday and finally sleeping in my own new bed. The hotel wasn't thrilled about my early checkout, but they'll get over it, there was only this week left on it before I would have had to extend or go someplace else. That’s all in the past. I had my place, and with all the furniture in it, it looked complete. And it nearly is.

  What was a little surprising was that even with all the furniture coming in and the trips up and down the elevators picking up things I'd ordered and returning from shopping, I hadn't seen Justin since the parking garage. I didn't know if it was over, or if he was just letting himself settle, but either way I went about my business. I was following Lena's advice the best I could. I was being patient, and I was doing what was right for me. I hoped he would come around, but I wasn't waiting.

  Fooling myself!

  John and I are getting along great. He told me this morning that he can't believe it's only been a week, that we fit together like it's been years. I'd already met his wife at the office, and I've been speaking with at least half a dozen of his most important contacts. Not only was his schedule running perfectly, but he now has me working on two of his projects. I feel at home.

  I have been making one huge mistake. No one is perfect, but this one I knew I shouldn't be doing, and I kept on going anyway. Right or wrong, it was my favorite part of each day. And I have to lie about it to everyone.

  The girls, mostly Jennifer and Lynda, are relentless about it, having sniffed it out like lionesses on a hunt. They knew nothing, really, but what they thought they knew was enough for them. I can't blame them for being excited, but I have to be careful.

  Almost every day so far, JP sent a quick chat to check in on me, asking me how things were with John and the rest of the office. They were very short, professional chats, just courtesy calls.

  That's what I told them, anyway.

  According to Jennifer and Lynda, self-proclaimed JP experts, this was his way of flirting. No one else, not one, was getting the same attention from him, and he was such a stiff person that this was obviously the best he could do, the closest he could come to hitting on me. The boss had a thing for me, and they were thrilled, it made him human—a man.

  What kept it exciting for them was the fact that I didn't agree with them. I keep telling them that I just don't see it as anything more than politeness. That made it safe. That made it acceptable.

  That was not the truth at all, oh hell no, not even close!

  Telling them JP does chat with me, admitting to that much, was my cover. Sooner or later, some
one was bound to see him instant message me, find the yellow box blinking JP on my task bar, and when they did it was not going to seem so unexpected. It was going to be easier to lie about, and my reputation here needed that.

  The truth is they don't know the first thing about JP. He's extremely down to earth and grounded, with a hysterical sense of humor. He seeks out the genuine qualities in everyone and would choose a loyal single parent without a college degree over any overly-educated big shot that was just out for himself. Once he begins to care about you, he never stops.

  And the only thing stiff about him is probably his cock after one of our chat sessions, especially the ones that have been occurring at night—after hours. I've had to pull the bullet out of the bag a couple of times already after chatting with him. Things grew very heated, really quickly between us, and we both agree that the first time we meet; it should not be at the office.

  Honestly, I don't know how he was surviving our conversations. I had my bullet, so I'm thinking he was doing the same thing, but I hadn't actually asked him that, yet. I can't wait to find that out! I love the thought of him jerking off his hard cock and thinking about me.

  Okay, I shouldn't think about that right now.

  For someone I hadn't actually met face to face, I'm feeling incredibly close to him, and he was really making the absence of Justin tolerable. I just wish it wasn't so taboo for the office.

  Obviously, I'm a wreck. I've fallen for the both of them, and can't have either. What the fuck am I thinking? There can only be pain from this—my pain! Why the hell would I do this to myself?

  Decisions need to be made, soon! I'm on my way to the Manhattan grill after work today, just to see if Justin is there, or talk to Trisha about him if he’s not. There was a sweetness to him, a way of caring about me that I have been missing desperately for days. I'm torn between Trisha's advice, and Lena's. One told me to stay away, the other told me to stay close, and I don’t know who to listen to anymore. JP makes me laugh. Justin makes me feel safe and desirable, and I miss him when he’s gone.

  Twice this week I had the feeling someone was watching me. Each time, I had the urge to call Justin, have him save me again, but I didn't think it was fair to keep using him that way. He would certainly come, I am sure of it, and that's exactly what made it wrong. When I see him again, it's going to be because he chooses to. So when I had those creepy feelings, I toughened myself up and went looking for the dark hoodie myself.

  It was never there. I'm starting to think I have some stress related paranoia from the attack, and everything since has just been in my head. I joke, but it's not so farfetched. I was traumatized, and I've probably been blowing it off too easily.

  I checked the time and dialed John's number.

  "Yo?" John answered.

  "Hey. You should start packing it up, it's four o'clock and you have dinner with Joe Barcia uptown. You know it's going to take longer in the rain," I told him.

  "Aw shit," he said. "Thank you much, Sweetie."

  I laughed and hung up, turning to look out the window behind me. Mid-September was still hot in the city. The cooling rain was not a bad thing, but it really screwed with the traffic. I have on a leather tee and printed palazzo pants from Alice and Olivia. The top is not as heavy as you might think, but the pants were perfect for the weather—and my mood.

  After a few minutes, John stopped in the doorway of my office. "I'm outta here," he said, "and I want you gone too. You've been knocking yourself out for me. The day is done, there's no more assisting needed. Get out and go have a little fun, go get something for your apartment, go meet some friends—just don't stay here!" He winked at me, and I waved goodbye.

  He was right; there was no sense in sitting here just to stare out the window watching the raindrops pass. If I left now I would probably catch Tricia's break before dinner begins. I shut down, packed up, and hailed a taxi in less than ten minutes.

  The driver and I ignored each other. I wanted Justin in the back with me. And, oh joy, I was finally getting to pay my own cab fare. Not as exciting as I'd hyped it to be.

  Only four people at the bar and one table in use. It was going to get busier, but the rain was keeping the early crowd away as I'd hoped. Trisha was talking to the bartender when she saw me.

  "Hey, Girl!" she shrieked. "I'm going on break, can you join me?"

  Perfect!

  "Absolutely, I was hoping to catch you," I said through a pleased smile as I walk up to them.

  "Can you bring her a Red Bull and vodka while I get us some food?" she asked the bartender.

  "My pleasure," he replied, waving hello to me.

  "Grab our usual table," she said to me. "I'll put your order in. What do you want, grilled chicken salad again?"

  "Fuck it, it's raining," I said. "I'll have the California Burger."

  Trisha laughed hysterically. "Now that's my girl."

  I sat down while she dipped into the kitchen before joining me, tossing my bag under the table out of my way. Our drinks were right behind her. Thank God for that!

  "The food will be out in a few minutes," Trisha trumpets. "So, how is the apartment, tell me about it, everything all situated now?"

  I was surprised that she knew. I hadn't been in to see her since last week, and I never had the chance to tell her. "You heard?" I asked.

  "Of course. You know us ladies have our ways," she joked. Then she gave it up, "Justin told me."

  "Ah. He's been in?" I asked.

  I'm angry that he had time to come here, but no time to call me. Maybe angry is too light a word!

  "Yesterday, but he really wasn't himself. All he talked about was you. When he's talking about you he seems fine, happy. When he wasn't talking about you, he wasn't talking at all. Never saw him act like that—ever! I have to say, I think he's got a thing for you," she said.

  I blushed, suddenly not so angry. "I don't think so. He hasn't been around, and I haven't heard from him at all. Even you know this is his MO."

  Why the hell am I fighting it? This is exactly what I wanted to hear!

  "No," she said, shaking her head. "No this is different. His MO would have been to be here with another woman, he would have moved on. He hasn't. I think the only reason he came in was to ask me about you, and if I had seen you."

  "If he wanted to know how I was, he would call me. Or, hell, knock on my door since I'm only a few floors down," I said.

  Trisha took a swig of her water and shrugged. "I don't think he's ready for that. If he has feelings for you, and I don't know him super well, but I'd bet if he likes you, someone like that would have no idea what to do with it. He's probably confused as hell, and that's just what he looked like. He looked beside himself."

  Now I know why I'm denying her—because I want confirmation, I want to know she's sure.

  "Trisha, you were the biggest warning against expecting anything serious with him!" I snapped.

  "I know, I'm shocked as well, but I'm telling you what I think. He never acts like this," she said defensively. "Is this a bad thing?"

  I hesitated. "No, it wouldn't be bad," I said. "It's just...I don't wanna get my hopes up and get hurt. Even if he is interested in something more, it doesn't mean he can do it."

  "True," she said. "I get it." She reached an understanding hand across the table and touched mine. "But we both know it's already getting too late for that. You look strung out because you haven't seen him, and you're angry that he hasn't called. You look almost as bad as he does"

  Is she serious? He looks worse than I feel? The excitement begins.

  Their chef, the Spanish guy from that first night, brought our food out and offered me a bright smile. I waved and said hello before he walked away, glad to see him as well.

  "So what are you gonna do?" Trisha asked.

  My mouth was full, but I answered anyway, "Not sure. Nothing, if he doesn't ever call me again. I guess I'm willing to do whatever he wants, whether that is a relationship, or to forget about each other, whatever
he needs."

  Trisha smiled. "You know the next time I see him, I'm gonna give him shit until he agrees to call you. I should have done it this last time."

  I laughed at her. It seems everyone can see that Justin is into me—except for Justin and me.

  "Anyway, tell me about your place," Trisha said.

  I told her all about it while we ate, and I invited her to come see it some time. I'm not sure why we didn't do it earlier, but we finally exchanged numbers so we could stay in touch.

  A few more people came in, several for the bar and two more tables, and the bar tender was having trouble keeping up. Trisha knew her break was over. She began cleaning and stacking our plates.

  "Listen," she said, "kidding aside, Justin would be a great catch. Not saying it would be an easy road, but you know he would treat you right. I think you two would be amazing. You have something, something that tames him. You could have a great lover, and a guy that adores you. If he calls, you should answer."

  She took our plates and went to work. I was going to hang for a bit, maybe he would come in.

  My cell phone rang. Last time it ended up being Justin, so I jumped for it, digging wickedly into my pocket. It wasn't him. It was my friend from home.

  "Melissa, how are you?" I asked. She was my best friend, and I'd been avoiding her since the thing with Justin had heated up. I owed her some talk time and updates.

  "I'm good," she answered. "How are you? I haven't heard from you in like a week, I was starting to worry."

  "I'm sorry. It's been a busy week," I responded.

  "Last I heard, you signed on an apartment. Are you in yet?" she asked.

  I found myself repeating everything about the apartment and getting annoyed at listening to myself. Hearing the same story so many times, it didn't sound like it was my story any more. Melissa was excited for me, though, and that made it worth retelling."