Chapter Thirty-Two

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Chapter Thirty-Two

APOV

I think I sort of became obsessed with the different ways Tyler could get me off.  Not that he hadn't in the past; maybe just the combination of things, the feeling of him in me—that was addictive.  Fingers, mouth, cock, whatever combination of them—I think it was because it was so new to me.  I got off myself; I had orgasms myself.  I had orgasms with him.  But I never shared it like this before—that was the addictive part.  I already knew I could get myself off, and I knew he could, too, but it was almost like a challenge for or with myself to see if I could get off this way, or with this touch, or this position. 

And what the most different part was?  Tyler was just as happy to get me off as I was to have him do it. 

It was something like 36 hours since everything had started; the last 24 of which had been spent completely in Tyler’s bed or shower.  I lost count now of how many times we had sex; the only times we stopped were for food, a useless shower that just turned into more sex, and a few short naps.  

I actually kind of felt bad.  I really didn’t let him rest much at all.  And he hadn’t really slept the entire night after I showed up here.  He also wasn’t complaining.  

After our last nap, where he passed out cold on his stomach again, I draped myself over him, my tits pressing into his back and woken him up by blowing in his ear.  It took a lot longer than I thought it would for him to wake, and I wasn’t sure if that was because of the lack of sleep, or that he just became accustomed to me being there.  It really hadn’t mattered after; the full-on nakedness had been very effective for waking him completely.  The fact that I sort of licked all over him probably had helped, too.  I couldn’t really help myself.  His back was ridiculously sexy, especially when he was all sprawled with his arms up and… Yeah.  

I honestly think his body woke up first; I think his brain kicked in for that part before he actually was awake mentally.  He rolled his hips into the bed, and he shifted some, but his eyes were still closed.  I just kept blowing into his ear, smiling at the way his face would scrunch more the longer I did it, and really fucking amused that he wasn’t trying to swat me away or anything.  

I rolled off of him to my side when he started to wake fully, stretching his arms and turning his head into the pillow like a kid.  How did he manage to make that both adorable and really fucking sexy at the same time?  

He was smirking when he turned back in my direction, his voice still full of sleep and deeper than normal.  Fucking hell.  “How long did you let me sleep this time?”

I shrugged a shoulder.  “Dunno.  I get bored.  Just waiting.”

He laughed into the pillow.  “Well I’m sorry I can’t be awake all the time to keep you entertained.”

I shoved at him to roll over, and he went easily, yawning and stretching some more when he got on his back.  And I don’t know if it was the noises he was making when he did the full body stretch—you know the ones; those, like, releasing groans—or that he was already hard and waiting for me, and the stretching just made his cock sort of bounce there for me, but if he wasn’t awake before that, when I pounced and started swallowing his cock, he was then.  

His hands landed on me; one kneading into my back and the other resting on my head, and he was swearing his way through an orgasm a few minutes later.  

He totally deserved that blowjob.  And many more when he flipped us over and screwed me through the mattress.  I didn’t ask, but I think that might have been the official start of fucking.

~ooOoo~

“Fuck.”

“That good, huh?” I teased.

“Well, yeah.  But no—we have an emergency.”

“We do?”

“Yes.”

“And what is it?”

“We’re out of condoms.”

I literally melted into the sheets in a fit of giggles. “Seriously?”

He grinned, nodding. “Yeah.”

“Wow.”

“You should be proud.”

“I kinda am.” I nodded.

His smile softened, and his face changed to something more serious.  And it sort of scared me for a second.  “We’ll have to go out to get more,” he started.

“Yeah…”

“I was thinking maybe you’d want to swing by your place and get some clothes.”

“Oh.”  I hadn’t really thought about that at all.  Or going back to the apartment.  Ever.  Little exaggeration there, but, I’d just been happy with him, I really hadn’t thought about life shit getting in our way at all.

He back-peddled, worried now. “We don’t have to.  I just thought maybe… We can skip your apartment,” he said quickly, “I just thought you’d be staying here for a while, and… I mean, you can wear anything of mine you want, but…some clothes you might… Never mind.  Forget I said anything.  Completely.  Go back to thinking about condoms.”

I smiled softly.  “It’s ok.  I mean, I’ll have to go back eventually.  I just wasn’t thinking about that now.”

“Don’t then.  Don’t think about it.  I’m sorry.”

I shook my head.  “There’s nothing to be sorry for.  You’re right.  I’ll need shit eventually.  I just hadn’t thought about it.”

“Or him.”  He sighed, angry with himself now.  I didn’t answer, which I think made him angrier.  He sat back on the bed heavily.  “Fuck.  I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.  You’ve been great.”

“Yeah, before I reminded you of one of the worst moments of your life.”

I scrunched up my face, mad that he was feeling this way now.  “Just stop.  It’s fine.  And it’s probably better if I go back sooner than later.  I can’t hide in your apartment forever.  So we can run to the store and stop by the apartment.  It’ll be good.”

He was looking at me cautiously, like he was trying to figure out if I was lying about it or not.  

“I’m not afraid of him, Tyler.  I just wasn’t thinking about it.  I’m not afraid to go back there.”

“I’ll be there.”

“I know.”

“He won’t hurt you again.”

“I know.” I nodded.  

He sighed. “Maybe you should press charges.”

I groaned. “No.  That’s not happening.”

“Why not?  He totally deserves it.”

“Because it’s my word against his.  And I’m a stripper and a former prostitute.  It wouldn’t stick anyway.  He wouldn’t be charged or it would somehow turn into my fault—like I asked for it.”

“That’s bullshit.”

I shook my head.  “That’s reality.”  

He didn’t like that answer at all.  And I could see him thinking.  And I knew exactly what was going to fly out of his mouth next.  “I could have my father—”

“No,” I said quickly.  

“You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“You were going to say some shit about your father’s lawyer.  And no.  I don’t want to take it any further.  And I doubt that’s how you’d like me to be introduced to your father.  Hey, dad—this is my girlfriend, Allison.  Remember her?  She’s the one that used your lawyer for that assault charge.  Same one that he bailed out when I got arrested earlier this year.”

His eyebrows were pulled way down; I think he was getting frustrated, too.  “So you’re just gonna live there like it never happened?”

I shrugged.  “It’s not like I have a choice.”

“You could move,” he said, the look on his face annoyed and all huffy.

“Where would I move to?  I can’t bail on my half of the rent.  And it’s a great apartment for what we pay in rent.  It’s close to work.”

“Yeah, it just has a rapist in the building.  No big deal.”  He shrugged.

I sighed. “What do you want me to do, Tyler?  It’s where I live.”

“You could live here.”

I touched his cheek, because I didn’t want him to take this the wrong way.  “Thank you for offering.  I mean it.  And I would love to, but I don’t think I’m ready for that yet.  And I can’t just leave Jordan with the whole apartment.”

“She could find a different roommate,” he said quietly.

He wasn’t looking at me; he was picking at the sheets.  And I think even though I hadn’t wanted to, I might have hurt his feelings.  I sighed.  “Tyler.”  He was still looking down and I grabbed his chin.  “Hey.”  I leaned over to kiss him.  And I didn’t really know what else to say but what I already had.  “I’m not ready for that yet.”

“I know,” he said just as quietly.  God, I felt so bad now.  The way he was all let down and sad.  And I mean, it wasn’t like this was news to him.  It couldn’t have been.  I think maybe he just wanted more all the time.  

“We just started something new, ya know?  I can’t just barrel into shit, you know that.”

“Yeah, I know.”  He sighed.

“Then what’s the problem?”

He shrugged, sighing heavily again. “I dunno.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” I assured him.  “If that’s what you’re thinking.  That’s not why.”

“I know.”

“Then what?”

“Just ignore me.  I know we’re not at that stage yet.  Just… Yeah, ignore me.”

“Are you mad because I turned you down?”

“No, of course not.  I wouldn’t want you to just say yes anyway.”

I chuckled at him.  He still looked so disappointed.  “If I give you another blowjob, will you stop moping?”

“I’m not moping,” he said in a completely childish, pouting way.  “And I don’t need another blowjob.”

“Well I can’t fuck you; we’re out of condoms.  So until we get some more, I can blow you if that’ll make you feel better.”

He sighed, rolling his eyes.  “I guess; if you want to.”

I grinned and shoved him backwards on the bed.  “I guess,” I said back.  

~ooOoo~

I thought we were in a pretty good place when we left his apartment.  We stopped at the store first and stocked up on condoms, and we kept kissing, just, right out there in public, and I was the happiest I could remember being.  He lost the depressed moping before we left, and I was glad that he seemed as happy as I was.  He’d been so angry when I told him about what had happened, and he managed to keep himself under control because I needed him, but I knew that it obviously affected him as well.  Whether it was all the sex or just the new turn in our relationship, I was glad that it was making him as happy as it was.  He seemed lighter, less weighted down by everything now.

But somewhere between the front door and the stairs of my apartment building, that flipped again, and Tyler went completely apeshit crazy.  One minute he was right next to me and we were really fucking happy.  I felt high and that was something that I never even felt when actually high.  It was a completely different kind of high—a high because of Tyler; like time with him was the drug, the way he made me feel; like I was normal and ordinary and worth the effort for him to try with me.  That knowledge was just as addicting as sex with him was.  

It was sort of one of those slow motion minutes where we were happy and he was nuzzling my neck as we just started on the stairs.  He’d just made some comment about grabbing my ass and we were laughing, and then I turned, and he was gone.  I went back down the few stairs and looked down the hallway to see his fist dropping to wail on the fucking asshole landlord.  

I ran over, screaming his name and telling him to stop, but he didn’t hear any of it.  It scared me when he got like this; when he just lost total control.  It wasn’t like I’d never done that in my life but I tried to put that behind me.  Days of poor control or just being fucking stupid had cost me things I’d never get back.  And it was a dangerous line to ride.  The other problem was that I had already underestimated this asshole, too, and I had no idea what else he was capable of and Tyler getting hurt because of it couldn’t happen.

The landlord must not have seen Tyler coming; or if he had, he had no idea Tyler was going to do this.  He was mostly protecting himself, but his feet were kicking and for the moment, Tyler clearly had the upper hand, but there was no guarantee that would last.  For a skinny, gross, little man, he had some shit going on under the hood.  That’s why he was so much scarier, and he’d already gotten the drop on me once, there was no reason to think he couldn’t do the same to Tyler.  

I sort of didn’t know what to do once I got closer to them.  Tyler had started on the offensive, and he didn’t seem to be stopping, but he was slowing down some, and in true asshole form, the landlord took advantage of that, sucker punched Tyler, and landed a few blows before he could turn it around again.  If he was smart, he would have just let Tyler wail until he’d gotten it out of his system, because the few blows only made Tyler angrier again, and his assault sort of just picked up with renewed energy.  

Screaming was largely pointless, but it gave me something to do while I decided if I could actually pull Tyler off or not.  I waited until he looked tired enough that I could yank the dumbass back, and grabbed him around the chest, burying my head in his back and pulled as hard as I could.  Either he expected it, or he knew my touch and wasn’t fighting it.  We wound up a heap on the ground, me sitting behind him with my arms still locked around his chest.  

I figured screaming now was appropriate, because Tyler’s body was still all hopped up with adrenaline and he was just waiting for an excuse to start again.  “Fucking stop!”  I yelled in his ear.  “It’s not worth it.  He’s not worth it!”  

“You’re worth it!”  He screamed right back at me.  

He was totally out of breath, his chest heaving, and I could see his nose was bleeding and his lip was split.  Great, we could match.  Fucking hell, we were gonna look like we’d been in a car accident or something.

“He’s not!” I yelled back again.  I hadn’t loosened my grip at all; afraid something else would set him off.  So basically, we sat on the floor while we both calmed the fuck down and listened to the asshole landlord groan and attempt to get up enough to crawl back into his hole.  The really mean part of me liked watching him slither around with his face all bloody.  The realistic part could start to imagine the fallout from this.  

Tyler seemed calmer, wiping his nose with the back of his hand.  “Come on,” I said, loosening my hold on him a little and starting to get up.  “Let’s go.”

It had started in slow motion and I bet the whole thing was done in two or three minutes.  We probably sat on the floor listening to the asshole wheeze longer than it had taken Tyler to make him that way.  I thought he was done, but he started pulling away from me and he was gonna fucking kill him if he kept this up.

“Tyler!  Jesus Christ!  You already fucked him up.  Let’s just go!”  

He didn’t listen to me but he wasn’t charging at the asshole, either.  He didn’t need to; landlord curled in on himself and actually fucking whimpered, and I moved closer because homicide was not taking place in my building today.  Tyler stood over him while he flinched.  At least he didn’t beg.  That would have been the last shred of dignity this fucker had.  He just looked pathetic now; not the angry, horny motherfucker that tried to rape me.  Tyler had reduced him to that.  That mean part was kind of proud that Tyler was capable of that, that powerful.  And that he could obviously fuck someone up, but the rage that sometimes poured out of Tyler was also kind of scary.  I was never afraid of him; it wasn’t like that.  It was just the fact that the rage was there, and boiled over to this point sometimes and that still wasn’t good.  

I didn’t know the word for the look on Tyler’s face as he stood over that asshole.  I’d seen the look before on people, but not someone like Tyler.  Threatening.  I wouldn’t have fucked with Tyler right now.  

His voice was surprisingly calm when he started talking.  Or like control was back but it was still skirting that line.  “If you ever touch her again, I’ll be back, and it’ll be worse than your broken face.  You don’t look at her; you don’t talk to her, understand?”  He waited for a response and landlord nodded.  “You want something or they have a problem and need something fixed, you talk to me.  And I better not hear about you fucking with their water or their rent again.  Got it?”

More nodding.  

Tyler started him down for good measure and then turned and started walking.  It took me a second to follow; landlord didn’t even glance in my direction.  

I caught up to him on the stairs and part of me wanted to just throw down right here; shove him and demand to know what the fuck he was thinking, but just the glare I threw his way before I was about to start, and the look I got back—challenging like he wanted the fight or not that he wanted it; but that he’d barrel headfirst into this one, too—made me stop.  

I held my tongue until we got into the apartment.  Silent was better with Tyler.  If he had time to think first, he usually was more reasonable.  “So…” I started, while he trudged over to the couch and sat heavily, blowing out a breath of air and sniffing as he wiped at his nose again.  His head went back to rest against the couch.  “Are you happy now?”

He snorted. “Yes, I’m satisfied.”

I nodded. “Well, I’m really fucking glad, Tyler.”

Jordan came strolling out of her bedroom. “Well if it isn’t the lovebirds.”  She smiled. “Water’s fixed.”

Tyler made some sort of noise I couldn’t describe and I just sort of made one of disgust.

“What?” Jordan asked.  “That’s good news.”  She paused, looking at me directly. “What the fuck happened to your face?”  She turned to look at Tyler as though he could produce an explanation and took in his own split lip, nose all bloody, and his hands, which really looked like shit.  The knuckles were all scraped and busted and bloody, and the only thing that was stopping my instinct of fixing him was the fact that I knew most of the blood wasn’t his.  And the fact that he kind of royally pissed me off.  

Jordan totally went the wrong direction with it.  She stomped over to Tyler on the couch and literally just started throwing punches; smacking anything she came in contact with.  “Did you fucking do that to her, you asshole?”

Tyler rolled to protect his head and I kind of forgot how Jordan could really pack a punch until she socked him in the ribs and he let out a shout of pain.  

This was a fight I was comfortable getting in the middle of because Jordan I could stop, and she needed to stop beating on my boyfriend, because Tyler wasn’t doing anything to defend himself other than the roll and tuck.  At least I had confirmation he’d never hit a woman.  If anyone was asking for one, Jordan was right now.  She would have been on the floor bleeding with some of the other pricks I’d been around.  

I stepped between her and Tyler, leaning back and nearly sitting on Tyler to shield him.  “Jordan, stop!  Tyler didn’t do this.”

Jordan stepped back. “Then who the fuck did?” she yelled.

“He’s bleeding downstairs already,” I yelled back.  “Jesus!  What is with the yelling and the fucking violence today!?”  I moved to let Tyler sit back up.  

It was sort of amusing in a way when he walked away from his attack on the landlord with only a split lip, bloody nose, a matching set of bloody knuckles, and a few punches to the core he seemed to shake off, but in a manner of seconds, Jordan had split his cheek with the ring she wore on her hand and made him yell from her well-landed punch to the ribs.  Poor guy.  I almost felt bad.

He scoffed in disgust.  “The fuck!?  I would never hurt her you fucking freak!  And I sure as hell wouldn’t come back here then.  Christ.”

Jordan shifted for a second and then looked at me and my severely disappointed, pursed lips.  Did no one have any fucking control?  Was I the one with the most control?  Because that was a fucking switch and just scary.  

Jordan threw her arms up. “Well!  I didn’t know!  You both look like shit!  What was I supposed to assume?”

“Your first fucking thought was me?!  Thanks a lot!  Fuck you, too, Jordan!” Tyler yelled.  

“I’m sorry, ok?  I just… I don’t like seeing her hurt.  I just kind of snapped.”

“Yeah.” I scoffed. “Lots of that going around.”

Jordan walked to the kitchen and brought Tyler an ice pack. “Here.” She held it out to him.  “You should probably clean that.” She pointed to his cheek.  “But your hand looks kinda fucked.”

Tyler didn’t say anything and he seemed to suddenly notice that his knuckles were completely covered in blood.  He sort of just held the ice pack until he figured out he could wipe his hands off on his shirt.  

I threw my hands up again.  Violence made everyone stupid.  “Jesus fucking Christ, Tyler.  Ask for a towel!  Or go wash them off!”

He stared at me for a second before asking. “Can I have a towel, please?”

I sighed and walked to the bathroom, shuddering a second when I glanced in the direction of my door.  I bypassed going in there at all for the moment, and just focused on getting Tyler a towel.  Jordan was in the doorway when I turned around to go out with one.  

“What happened?” she asked.  Her eyes were concerned, and really, she was an awesome person.  Totally just switching to smack-down mode when she thought I was being hurt by Tyler.  That kind of loyalty was hard to come by.  

I sighed, putting the toilet seat down and sitting for a minute.  I didn’t want to get into the whole story right now.  I settled for the highlights.  “Basically, when I got home, that creepy landlord asshole was waiting for me and told me the water was fixed and he wanted to make sure it was working in our apartment.  The short version of the story is that he was looking for more than just a water check.”

Jordan sighed heavily. “That fucking bastard.  I always thought he was gross but I never pegged him for that.”

“Yeah, me neither.  I was wrong, though.  And I wasn’t paying attention.  Red flags should have been going off all over.  I fought him off and went to Tyler’s.  I’ve been there since.  We came back today because I wanted to get some stuff if I was gonna stay there for a while.”

“You gonna move in with him?”

“No.” I shook my head.  “That’s not what we’re doing.  I just didn’t really want to come back here right away and have to see him and I wanted time to just…”

“I got it,” Jordan said, not needing me to elaborate.

“I don’t even know how Tyler saw him.  I hadn’t even noticed he was in the hallway.  I must be getting soft.  I wouldn’t have missed that years ago.  Or he makes me soft,” I said quietly.

“Maybe you just feel safe with him.”

I considered that for a second before nodding. “Yeah, I do.”

Tyler cleared his throat from the doorway and I jumped.  “I’m sorry to interrupt but if you don’t want me to use my shirt, then I have to get something else because it’s…oozing everywhere.”

Oh, Jesus.  Tyler just kind of stood in the doorway, turning his hand so the blood kept running the opposite direction.  He was really intensely focused on it so it wouldn’t drip on the floor or his shirt.  I had to smile.  The shirt was fucked anyway.  I’m not sure why I insisted he not use it to wipe it off.  “C’mere,” I said, motioning for him to come in.  I led him to the sink and turned on the water, washing off the left which seemed to be just scraped with bruises forming; not a ton of blood.  The right was much worse.  He hissed quietly at the water but didn’t pull away and I tried not to touch anything, just letting the water rinse it off.  The knuckles on this hand were more than scraped, there were gashes on two of them and it was gonna bruise like a motherfucker, I could tell already.  Then there was his last knuckle, which just looked…off.  

Jordan poked her head around the other side of Tyler.  “Your knuckle’s busted,” she provided.

Tyler sighed. “Yeah, I kinda figured.”

She nodded. “Sucks.”

He shook his head. “It was worth it.”

“I bet,” she agreed.

I scoffed. “Don’t encourage him!”

Jordan smirked. “Hey, look what I did to him when I thought he did it.  Imagine what he and I could have done together to that skeevy bastard.”

Tyler smirked.  I did not.  I looked between the two of them.  “You’re both crazy.  And stupid.”

Tyler shrugged.  He craned to look back at Jordan.  “Can you pop it back in?”

She reached out and inspected his hand.  “I don’t really wanna mess with it.  I don’t think it’s dislocated.  I think it’s broken.  I dated a guy that started boxing and did this a couple times.”  She paused and looked up at him. “One time he needed surgery, so I don’t think I should start yanking on it.”

I ran a hand over my face.  “Oh, that’s great, Tyler.  Surgery.”

He pulled his hand back and poked at the knuckle.  It looked…sunken.  His face registered the pain but he didn’t say anything when he prodded it.  

“Stop that!  You’ll make it worse.”

“I don’t think it’s broken that bad.  I know exactly when it happened, too.  When the fucker gut punched me.  I didn’t have my fist closed all the way when I punched him after that.”

I rolled my eyes.  “Come on.  We need to go to the ER.”

Jordan stood in my way.  “You’re going to take him to the ER?”

“Yes,” I said.  “Obviously.  Why?”

She shook her head.  “You can’t go in there with him like that,” she pointed to my face.

“Why not?”

“Because they’re going to think the same thing I did.”

She had a point.  And I really didn’t need that.

“I’ll take him,” she said.  And I sort of just stared at her for a minute.  Because that was really fucking unexpected.  

“You will?”

“Yeah.”  She nodded.

He scoffed. “Or, I can just go myself like a big boy.”

“What if they have to put you under or something?” Jordan asked.

“I don’t think that’s gonna be necessary,” he said.

I sighed, thinking a minute. “I’d rather have someone go with you.”

“I’ll be fine,” he assured me.

“Please?”  I asked.  “I can wait in the waiting room or in the coffee shop or something.  If they give you anything, you might not remember really important shit they tell you.  Please?”

He let out a deep breath. “Fine.”

I nodded.  I knew he wasn’t going to say no if I pulled the ‘Please’ card.  

I wasn’t really sure how I felt about Jordan being the one to take Tyler to the ER.  I mean, logically, I knew it was a bad idea for me to do it because of what they might think, and I knew it was better if there was someone with him.  I was glad it was her over other people, but I sort of felt like I was passing off responsibility or something.

I didn’t like not being with him when he was hurt.  Even if it was his own damn fucking fault he’d gotten that way.  

“Where are we taking him?” Jordan asked.

“Roosevelt is probably closer.”

“I’ll get a cab.”

“We can just walk,” Tyler said.

I ignored him.  “Yeah, get the cab.”

“I can walk,” he insisted to me.

“It’ll take longer to walk, and you’re a fucking mess.” I gestured to his shirt.  “You can’t walk down the street like that.”

“What and a cab will be better?”

“With where we’re going, yeah.”

“I can just change—”

“Tyler, just shut the fuck up.  We’re taking a cab.”

Smartly, he didn’t argue with me.  He didn’t say much of anything actually on the ride, and it was thankfully pretty short.  

I wound up waiting across the street from the hospital in some hippie coffee place where everything was way more expensive than it should have been, emo-music screamed out of the speakers, and there were way too many people with laptops.  The only upside was that no one seemed to notice or care that I had bruises underneath the sunglasses I was wearing, and was basically going to camp there until my boyfriend with matching bruises was done in the hospital.  

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