Chapter 16

The next morning, I made us breakfast and saw her off to work with her lunch in her hand and a kiss fresh on her lips. I worked around the apartment most of the morning, getting it ready for its new mistress. I repacked the drawers in the bedroom, made room in the bathroom and a few other little things that I thought would help. She was coming back here and then we were going to her place to start moving her stuff.

Eve called about 11 and we went to lunch at a local food truck we both loved. One great thing about LA, there’s a food truck for literally any taste. This one dealt in German sausage and it was always good. They served their sausage on buns similar to hotdogs, but they were so much better.

We took ours and sat on a bench nearby, taking a few minutes to get the initial hunger out of the way before we talked.

“So you went into the hospital and found the hottest nurse in a thousand miles,” she said around a mouthful of sausage. “What the fuck? Like how did you manage that? You have blackmail material on her?”

“Nope. We ran into Chloe Sinclair the other night though. HER, I have blackmail material on. Thank you for that. I don’t think I’m gonna release it though. If you do, that’s cool. It was you that managed to get into her computer to begin with.”

She shrugged. “Nah. I hear she’s doing better now. I’d still have to wait a year before I could release anything anyway. She’s still only 17. When she was the bitch-princess, I could get behind putting her teenage ass out for the vultures to fight over. I heard she went into rehab and she’s doing something with her fame, volunteering for a few charities.”

I nodded. “She told me. I think the accident scared her straight. I hope so, at least.”

She shrugged. “It’d be nice if that was true,” she said. “You’re changing the subject though. How’d you manage to land the hottest damn woman I’ve ever seen?”

“Honestly,” I said. “A combination of my looks and charm,” I told her. It was essentially true, but I was trolling her just a little.

“Bullshit!” she called. “You’re no Quasimodo, but you’re not GQ material either. You could pass for a Marlboro Man if you put on the stetson, but you’re not in her league for looks.”

I shrugged. “You didn’t do a full digital cavity search on her?” I asked, surprised. “I figured you’d have found out what cut and color panties she wore when she had her first period by now.”

“Blue boy-shorts,” she deadpanned. “Just save me the search and tell me. You’re dying to anyway. I can smell the smugness on you.”

“She had a brother,” I told her. “He was a soldier, but got hurt in Iraq and couldn’t adjust to life without legs. I look a little like him.” Okay, that was a lie, I looked a LOT like him.

She gave me a look of pity. “So she latched onto you because of her brother? I thought you were smarter than that. As soon as she figures out that you’re not her brother back from the dead, your relationship is done. You know that, right?”

“I’d agree, if that was the only thing that was holding her attention,” I told her. “She’s said that there’s a lot about me that’s vastly different from him. He could never laugh at himself and there’s so much to laugh at me for that it’s sometimes hard to choose just one. He hated computers, loved his painkillers and I don’t even know what else, but she mentions it all the time. I think she’s trying to reassure me that I’m not just a stand-in for him.”

She shrugged. “I still think she’s seeing a dead-man walking,” she said. “My advice would be to enjoy the ride while it lasts and then have a back-up plan for when it comes apart.”

I nodded. “That’s good advice,” I told her.

“But you’re not going to take it,” she finished.

“On the contrary,” I laughed. “I intend to enjoy every minute of my time with Lori. My back-up plan for when she leaves is to lean on our kids and grandkids until it’s time for me to go to her.”

“Oh, God, you’re hopeless,” she groaned, but she laughed a little too.

“I get what you’re saying,” I told her. “There’s something else that happened that tells me that she’s not gonna go down that spiral.”

“Oh?” she asked. “I’m all ears.”

“It’s hard to talk about, Eve,” I admitted. “It’s the kind of thing that either makes believers or makes the skeptics roll their eyes.”

“Try me,” she challenged me. So I told her. Sabrina, Linda’s visit, the bottle, the accident, meeting Lori, dreaming about her brother and Sabrina and waking up to find the bottle and his uniform beret on the kitchen table.

“Are you trying to tell me that shit happened?” she asked me with a look of disbelief on her face.

I nodded. “She checked the name and it was stenciled on the inside of the hat. She knew the shampoo he used and said it was his.”

“You don’t think she might have done that?” she asked skeptically.

“And she just happened to get the brand of tequila right and just happened to anticipate that I’d dream about both of them and that they’d leave those items in my dream so she could sneak out and plant them for me to find? If she was that good at running cons, she’d be a TV psychic or something, not a nurse.”

“That is a lot of coincidence,” she admitted. “You’re not shitting me, are you?” She sounded like she was just realizing that I wasn’t pulling her leg.

“Nope,” I told her. “This is serious like a heart attack.” I told her. “She was a little rattled at finding his beret there. It’s like we had our guardian angels voice their approval. How do you NOT get serious after that?”

She shrugged, mulling it over. She wasn’t someone who believed in that sort of thing, but at the same time, she knew I wasn’t a good enough actor to sell this if it was fiction. “I was never the kind of girl that bought into ghost stories or any of that bullshit, but I know you wouldn’t lie about something like this. Weird.”

“Indeed,” I agreed wisely. “I might, if there was a hilarious practical joke involved or there was a damn good reason, but there’s no laughs to be had here and I can’t think of a reason that I’d make something like that up.”

We sat quietly for a while, lost in thought. “I’m happy for you,” she said suddenly as we watched the lunchtime crowd descending on the food truck like a zombie apocalypse.

“Thanks,” I said, meaning it. “You know, you’re probably my best friend. Your opinion means a lot to me.”

“I’m your best friend?” she asked, surprised.

“Yeah,” I said simply. “Is that so shocking?”

“A little,” she admitted. “I don’t think I’ve ever been anyone’s best friend before.”

“Not even Linda?” I asked.

“Nah. We kept in touch because I was tracking you down for her. That’s another reason that it’s weird for you to call me your best friend. We didn’t start out so well. I stalked you for years for someone you hated and then stood you up twice.”

I shrugged. “All in the past,” I said lightly. “To be honest, Linda coming to find me in Austin was a turning point in my life. It never would have happened if not for you. Standing me up isn’t really a big deal. You weren’t ready to meet me. Linda always said that you were blunt at times and it pushed people out of your life, but the truth is that you’re not the problem. You’re blunt, not mean. You say what’s on your mind and you don’t hold back. The people that took offense ... they’re the ones with the problem, Eve. You’re a good friend. You were there for me when my accident happened and you’ve been here for me since. Anybody that doesn’t think you’re a pretty awesome friend is stupid. Any guy that would break up with a girl as staunchly loyal as you because you didn’t stroke his ego, needs to get his priorities straight. You can’t really appreciate loyalty until you’ve had someone cheat on you.”

She sat, turned toward me and looked at me like she’d never seen me before. “You really mean all that?” she asked.

I smiled and nodded. “Yep,” I said. “As a best friend, you’re pretty awesome. You taught me how to hack, supplied me with embarrassing pornography of a Hollywood starlet, tracked down the evidence in my case and helped me plan my revenge if things went poorly.”

“Thanks!” she smiled in awe. “I’ve never been someone’s best friend. I don’t quite know what to say.”

“Say you’ll be at my wedding,” I supplied with a chuckle. “If it wasn’t for everything Mike and I have been through, I’d ask you to stand up for me.”

“Your best man?” she asked dryly.

“It’s not so uncommon these days to ignore gender roles,” I shrugged dismissively.

“Yeah, but you always struck me as being more traditional,” she pointed out.

“Not so traditional that I’d snub you,” I assured her. “Mike’s my brother though and after Linda cheated on me with my own brother, he was the only one that put himself on my side. He became my whole family after that. I need him there.”

“It’s cool,” she said. “I don’t think they make tuxes in my style anyway. If he backs out though, I’ll snap up his place in a heartbeat.”

We grinned about that, having gone from her being skeptical to the shared certainty that I was going to marry this girl. We parted after a little more chatting and I went home to finish getting the bedroom organized for two.

When Lori came home, there was a lot of hugging and kissing and then we were off to her apartment. She talked to her landlord and informed him that she wasn’t renewing her lease, which was up at the end of October, so she gave him October’s rent a couple of weeks early and told him that we’d make sure the place was cleaned up and we’d do the final inspection when we were ready to hand over the keys.

I’d brought some empty luggage with me, figuring that there was a good chance that she had a lot more wardrobe than her luggage could handle. It turns out that Lori had a little bit of a passion for clothes. We packed what we could and she bit her lip, looking at her closet. “I’ve got too much,” she declared. “I’m gonna have to get rid of some things.”

“Well, we can go through everything once you’re moved in,” I soothed her anxiety. “For now, let’s just pack what we can. Make sure to get what you need for the next week first and then we’ll look into the rest.”

She nodded and we spent the next few hours cleaning out her apartment. She was deeply embarrassed when I opened the drawer on her nightstand and came face to face with a collection of sex toys. She’d come over to try to stop me from seeing, but I already had one in my hand. She buried her face in her hands, mortified, but I didn’t see why and told her so.

“It’s embarrassing!” she insisted.

“Baby, I’ve seen every inch of you. There’s no reason to be embarrassed. In fact...” I trailed of and took her by the shoulders, turning her around. She looked at me curiously and I grinned back. I grabbed the pants of her scrubs and pulled them down to her knees. Her panties followed them shortly afterwards and I took the vibrator I had in my hand and turned it on, teasing it over her lips for a few minutes before inserting it, making her purr. She hadn’t expected this. She REALLY wasn’t expecting what came next. I held it in place and pulled her panties up, trapping it inside her. Then I pulled her scrubs up, patting the stub of the vibe that was still sticking out of her pussy. I kissed her neck and then chuckled. “Back to work,” I told her.

“Wha ... What?!!?” she blurted, turning to look at me incredulously. “I can’t work like this!”

“I want to watch you like this,” I told her. “I want you turned on and trying to act normal at the same time.”

She bit her lip and whimpered at the relentless buzzing from between her thighs. She finally nodded though and we got back to packing. She was moving with more purpose. She wanted to get through it so that she could get home and get me back, but the sensations were making her a little erratic too. She’d work like she was on a mission for several minutes and then she’d gasp and tremble as the toy did its job, driving her to an orgasm while she moved around the room.

“You’re evil!” she accused me with a gasp after her third orgasm, but she never called a halt and pulled the toy out of her pants, just squirmed her way through the orgasm and kept working.

“And you’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen,” I told her in response. “God! You look gorgeous when you cum.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying the show,” she blushed and squeezed her thighs together for a few moments before getting back on task.

I made sure to pack the rest of her toy collection and thought that we might want to go shopping for more in the future. We eventually filled the bags that we had and decided to pick up dinner on the way home. She went to remove the toy from her pants and I stopped her. “Leave it,” I said. “We’ll pick up drive-thru so you don’t have to go in anywhere.”

She gave me an anguished look, but nodded. “You’re in SO much trouble later, though!” she promised vengefully. We picked up dinner from Wendy’s and went home to eat. I noticed that she ate about half of my fries, but that was okay. I supposed I deserved it. I finally removed her toy and licked the cum from her pretty pussy lovingly, giving her another orgasm in the bargain.

She DID get me back though. She went into the bedroom to prepare and then came back to get me. She stripped me, laid me out in the center of the bed and then tied my wrists and ankles to the bedposts with scarves she’d dug out, making sure I couldn’t interrupt her before she got the vengeance she wanted. I was a little nervous about that, but she’d been a good sport, so I went along.

She took the toy that had tortured her all evening and started it again, using the gentle vibrations to get my attention as she massaged my thighs with it. She ran it over the head of my cock and down the shaft to massage my balls with it. I wasn’t used to the sensations and it had me writhing now like she had earlier.

She chuckled at my discomfort and so began the most exquisite torture of my life. She teased me with her lips and tongue, the toy and her hands, wrapped her breasts around my stiff member, stroking it with the softest flesh imaginable, she sucked and licked and kissed, but each time she felt like I was getting close to cumming, she stopped and came to kiss me, looking at me wickedly as she delighted in my condition. I could see that she was deeply turned on by this and I wasn’t about to take that away from her, so I let her turn me into a gibbering idiot. I strained against the scarves, groaned in complaint, gasped and panted with unfulfilled need, whimpered at each orgasm she denied me and it all started to blend together. I was on edge for so long, I didn’t know what I was doing anymore.

Fortunately, Lori wasn’t interested in hurting me because we were rapidly getting to the point that I was hurting myself from straining against the scarves tying me to the bed. She hushed me and then threw her leg over my hip. She paused long enough to line me up and then she plunged herself down on me, forcing me into her. She slid up and down, squeezing my shaft with her pussy deliciously until I felt like I was going to cum. I half-expected her to stop or lift off of you. She didn’t though. She kept rolling her hips and milking my cock until I exploded with an uncontrollable scream as I washed her cervix in blast after blast of cum. I think she might have cum with me, but honestly, I was too distracted to know anything beyond what was happening in my own body.

As soon as the orgasm passed, I groaned in pain this time. I’d been building up to this orgasm for so long that I’d developed the telltale ache of blue-balls. For those of you that have never let that problem linger long enough to develop the symptoms, it feels like an invisible hand is squeezing your balls and not being particularly gentle about it.

The common reaction to it is to curl up into a ball and hope for the sensation to pass. Tied to the bedposts, all I could do was writhe while she looked alarmed and tried to release me quickly so she could assess what was wrong. She pulled the knots loose with some difficulty and told me not to move while she went into nurse mode. Her first thought was she’d hurt my hip with a bad bounce, but I shook my head and managed to choke out what the problem was before I curled up to ride out the ache.

She tried not to laugh at me. Really, she did. It wasn’t meant to be though. I felt her spoon with me from behind, wrapping her arms around me as the giggles consumed her. Vile creature. If I didn’t love her, I’d have made her sleep in the guestroom.

“I’ll have to find another way to get back at you,” she promised. “I didn’t mean to leave you suffering.”

I nodded and slowly the pressure ebbed, leaving me feeling a little more relaxed. “Definitely not a pleasant experience,” I agreed.

We drifted off to sleep and I was awakened the next morning to the smell of coffee. I was alone in bed and wandered out to the kitchen in search of a cup of black gold. Unfortunately, I got tar. My baby was many things. A barista was not among her skills. She came and kissed me. “The coffee’s a little strong,” she warned me. That was an understatement.

“Gah!” I said, after my first sip, feeling like my tongue had been mugged. Sugar would make it better, I prayed and dumped a liberal amount into my cup, stirring it hopefully. The coffee DID wake me up though.

“It’s bad?” she asked sheepishly.

“It’s a lot stronger than I was expecting,” I told her diplomatically and kissed her. “Thanks for making it.”

She smiled at me, knowing that I was avoiding telling her that it could peel paint. She was bustling around the kitchen and refused to let me help. She had scrambled eggs cooking and sausage in another pan. “Just sit down,” she said. “I’ll make you breakfast for once.”

“Okay,” I said agreeably. “What about your lunch?” I asked.

“You can do that, if you want,” she allowed and I set to work, packing her something to take with her, while she cooked. I hobbled off to my computer desk while she worked and write a short note that said I loved her and missed her and came back to slip it in with her lunch while she was distracted and packed it up with a smile on my face while she got everything to the table. The coffee was still strong enough to stand up without the mug, but other than that, everything else was fine.

She had three more shifts before her vacation started and we’d settled into our routine. I took her apartment keys before she left for work so I could got to her place and continue packing. She told me to be careful not to do too much, so I promised to take it easy.

Most of the day I just got things ready to move. She already had her kitchen cleaned out and there was nothing really to do there except go through the place with her and see what she wanted to take with her from the kitchen and what we’d get rid of.

Her bedroom was a different matter. She wasn’t prepared to move out, so I took some time organizing things in there. I’d stopped and gotten some boxes and I filled them as well as I could, taking them down to the truck one at a time. I poked around her apartment, emptying the bathroom and checking to see what we’d need to decide on. She had a TV we might want, a movie collection that didn’t make me cringe too much, a book collection that I wasn’t even going to try to move myself and a guitar that made me wonder how well she played.