. 03

Author's note:

This chapter contains mental trauma and description of injury. If this bothers you, please stop reading when Jessie appears in the story.

As always, your votes and comments (both public and private) are appreciated. Thank you!

###

Love is a feeling

I don't wanna hear it

Quench my desire

Takin' me higher

Tell it to the preacher

Satisfy the feeling

Give in to me

- Give In To Me, Michael Jackson

###

I extricated myself from the bed before Sienna woke up, made breakfast and ate in the galley with the TV turned down low. The yacht had satellite cable and could get a few signals nearly anywhere. Alas, my phone didn't even have one bar of reception. I would've liked to TEXT Jessie at the very least.

More car bombs in Milwaukee. I feared the country would fall back to a nineteen seventies mentality, when bombings by groups like Weather Underground, the New World Liberation Front, the Symbionese Liberation Army, and various disgruntled students and communists had simply overwhelmed the cultural attention span. Morgan Skolnich due had a lot of disgruntled people on his side, fuckers had been organizing for more than twenty years, and if they could be weaponized, we were looking at an extremely bloody span of time, even with advancements in law enforcement technology.

I still felt melancholy. I should not have come here. I should've stayed in Milwaukee, stayed close to Jessie. If I'd done that, the situation with Sienna might not have happened. Probably would not have happened.

And turning it over and over in my mind, I had to be honest with myself, I felt something for her too. It was impossible to separate affection from physical intimacy, from the sexual surrender that she gave me, from the domination I had over her. I HAD to care for her, or else this would be abuse or cruel, callous manipulation and USE.

I cared about her.

I always had.

I just missed Jessie. None of this morning made any fucking sense without her looking over her coffee mug at me, giggling and arching one eyebrow in merriment at some crude joke or internet meme.

I loved her, and she loved me. That I knew. That I could hold on to. No matter what I felt for Sienna, affection, protectiveness, attraction, Jessie came first in my life.

I plated some bacon and eggs and headed for the bedroom, and part of me looked forward to seeing the blonde stretch and smile shyly at the kindness I showed her. She didn't expect it, and that made her appreciation much more authentic.

Dammit.

Every time that girl came into my life, it got messy.

###

I sat on the flybridge while the autopilot took us back to the mainland, chipping away at Dickens while repetitively checking the water for boats and other obstacles, and trying not to remember my nightmare from last night. Maybe if I could finish the book, I could get some fucking closure.

Below in the ship, Sienna packed up our bags and boxes and made sure the boat was clean. With the trip back to Milwaukee expected to take the better part of the day, I'd avoided the blonde's considerable carnal advances when I'd brought her breakfast, and headed up to the be to begin the trip back home. Land was a dark line on the horizon, separating pure blue water from pure blue sky, and the more I looked towards it, the more I chafed to get back in my Suburban and begin driving.

"Still reading the same book?" Sienna asked. I hadn't heard her approach.

"It's slow going. We all packed?"

"Yup. All the food is in insulated bags, all your stuff is in your duffel bags, and I...I didn't really bring much."

"Cuz you spent most of your time naked," I teased.

"That's what you requested."

I looked her over. Dressed once again in her jean skirt and jersey and flipflops, her hand shielding her brilliant green eyes from the sun, her platinum hair brushed by the breeze.

Her black and green collar was still buckled around her neck. She hadn't taken it off in two days.

Part of me was still melancholy, still missing Jessie, still resignedly bothered by our discussion last night.

Another part of me was turned on by this beautiful, submissive woman.

Maybe I shouldn't be, but it seemed right now like my life was a long list of "maybe I shouldn't" moments, and right now I wanted to exorcise some of fuckedupness I felt.

"Come here." I patted my lap and Sienna smiled and folded herself over my knees, toes and fingertips on the deck, her weight on my legs familiar.

"Did I do something wrong?"

I shook my head. "No. It's just a beautiful day on a beautiful boat and it seems to me it'd be a shame if I didn't spank you and then fuck you here."

"You should do that then, if you want." Her voice had taken a meek and submissive tone, and it turned me on.

I slid See's short skirt up her ass, noting the light and fading bruises from previous sessions with a dark sense of satisfaction. I tugged the g-string down around her knees and she spread her legs, holding the tiny garment at half-mast.

Fuck this was a beautiful sight. Her fleshy pussylips were on display between her thighs and with her legs parted, her glutes opened to show off her tight, wrinkled star.

I traced a finger down her labia and she shivered, lifted her head and looked back at me with lust in her eyes.

"You obey so well, Sienna"

"Yes, sir."

I made her count each slap to ass, thank me, and ask for another. I had no interest in causing her pain, just arousing her like she aroused me, making her submit. Each spank was of moderate strength, not to sting or hurt, just to remind her where she was, what her place was - over my knee, with her bare bottom up in the air, her private parts on display for me.

After each set of six, I teased her, dipping a finger into her pussy or rubbing around her asshole, taking just a moment to distract her before returning to alternating snacks against her lifted cheeks. Every pause made her whine and groan, and when I finally eased her to her feet, she was flushed, breathing hard. Sienna made no effort to tug her skirt back down, and she closed her eyes, writhed in place when I reached out to brush a finger over her slit as she stood before me.

"You want to get fucked, don't you?" I asked.

"I want to pleasure you. I NEED to pleasure you."

"Get down on your knees then."

"Happily." Sienna lowered herself to the deck before me, tucked her hair delicately behind her ears, unzipped my shorts, and extracted my prick with a hungry look on her face. "This... This is what I was hoping to get for breakfast..."

She licked me balls to tip, gave me a smoldering look over the crown, and closed her lips around me, closing her eyes and sinking down, sucking as she bobbed. Popping off after a minute, she smiled. "I love doing this. Especially after you discipline me. It feels like the right way to say thank you."

Back down the blonde went, and it wasn't a rough blowjob, it wasn't her trying to force the maximum amount of my cock down her throat, it was adoring and gentle. She worshiped my prick, licking it, teasing it, very obviously savoring the feel of it as she moved her mouth and tongue around it.

I put a hand on her cheek, motioned her up before I was too far gone, pulled her into a kiss. She arched against me, driving her groin against mine, driving me wild with the feeling of hot bare skin against hot bare skin.

"How do you want me?" the blonde asked, out of breath.

"Right here." I turned her around, bending her over the instrument panel, and she pushed her butt back at me, legs spread, teeny tiny thong still suspended between them.

I buried my cock in her wet sheathe immediately, pressed to the hilt against her firm buttocks. "Fuck, you feel fantastic..."

"So do you." She wiggled her ass against me.

I reached around, began to press and rub her clit as I moved, hips smacking against bottom as I pistoned through her slippery clench. More than pleasure, more than anything else, I wanted her to feel...intimacy. I wanted her to feel cared for. For a brief moment in time before her world was uprooted again, I wanted her to feel safe and wanted and...loved.

I kissed her hair and her neck, and Sienna turned her head, and I captured her lips. It wasn't bruising and forceful and dominating and rough, it was gentle and understanding. I held her close and we kissed over her shoulder as we both felt every millimeter of my erection moving inside her.

Having gotten up before Sienna this morning, I'd not cum yet, and it was getting hard to hold off. See's fantastic blowjob and the sensual rear-entry we were engaged in now were stretching the limits of my control. Fortunately, the blonde seemed close as well, given her trembling, the uncoordinated humping of her butt into my groin, the little mewls of pleasure she seemed to be making involuntarily. I picked up the friction on her clit, and she went rigid. Eyes locked with mine, a look of wonder crossed her face, and she gasped, jerked, her core flexing, grinding harder on me and taking me into ecstasy.

My orgasm was explosive, ropes of hot, sticky jizz painting her vaginal walls, the force of it bringing me to my tiptoes. I held Sienna tight against me, kissing her lips and neck, trying to suck in enough air to remain conscious, trying to keep my balance well enough to stay upright.

"Fuck me..." I groaned.

The blonde giggled tiredly. "I just did."

###

It was a simple matter to verify cleanup of the yacht once we'd docked, verify that I'd cleaned up the house from the first night, load the bags into the truck, and hit the road. We had packed light and moved all of our stuff with each change in residence, so it wasn't like we needed to do any packing.

I sent Jessie a quick text from the house, and just about backed through the garage door in my hurry to leave.

Fun as this has been, I wanted to get home.

Seven hours of driving could not pass quickly enough. Every song on the radio, every gas station, every mile flicking by on the speedometer was an impatient delay.

I looked over at Sienna, napping with her head against the window of the truck, wisps of white-gold hair fluttering in the air conditioning. Did she love me? Did she love US? Was she gonna be ok with what the future held?

Was I gonna be ok with it?

Why wasn't I more bothered by what shed said? Was it because she seemed more mature, more understanding, more in control?

Or was it because there was a part of me that felt something for her too?

I held down the gas pedal and added another mile to the speedometer.

###

I stopped in front of my house just long enough to let See out, drop the bags in the kitchen, pat Jane on the head, and pat McKenna on the head just the same way and get an eyeroll, and then I climbed back in the truck and sped off into the darkening August night.

I made one stop between home and Jessie's training hospital - White Castle, for a couple BIG boxes of burgers.

Days after the attack, and the lobby of the hospital was still busy. Family members looking sad, stressed, angry. Tensions running high as they talked and argued with the staff. A harried-looking nurse barely looked up from her paperwork to tell me Jessie's station was on the tenth floor, and I didn't even get out "Thank you" before she pivoted and started barking at a guy in scrubs.

My heart hammered as I took the elevator up. I would give any amount of money, give any amount of pain, commit any act of violence against Morgan and his merry band of shitheads to erase the wrong they had done, to get revenge. To spare Jessie the pain she'd seen this weekend, the pain she'd endured.

I hoped against hope she was OK.

"Jessie Rigg around?" I asked the middle-aged woman in purple scrubs when she circled back to the nurses' desk.

She flipped some papers. "Think I saw her down by ten-fifteen. You a member of Randall's family? On the hippa list?"

I shook my head. "I'm Jessie's, uh, husband." I bent and started piling up the boxes of miniature burgers on the counter. "Brought you all some food."

Her eyes grew wide. "Are you the one who sent us dinner every night?"

I leaned over the counter. "Keep it secret, why don't ya? Don't want to lose my air of ineffable mystery."

She laughed. "I'll go see if she's done in there. Those burgers smell heavenly."

I waited by the desk, staring down the bustling corridor at her retreating form. So much pain packed into this building. So much pain and destruction and death caused by one man. I gripped the cheap artificial wood and focused on my feelings of hate and anger.

They were easier to cope with than thinking about Jessie.

Or Sienna.

I saw her slight figure weave between the medical personnel moving between the rooms and my heart stopped. She looked smaller. Harder. Less exuberant.

Lost. Purposeful, but lost.

Her pale skin seemed to contrast even more with her black hair, and her face was drawn, worn, like she'd stepped into a time machine and aged ten years in two days. A hint of a smile quirked her lightly freckled cheeks, and there was just a hint of the typical Jessie mirth dancing for just a moment in her gray eyes.

She flung herself at me, hugged me so tight my ribs creaked. Her face snuggled into my shoulder and I turned to press my nose into her hair. "Dammit, I missed you."

She squeezed me extra hard and stepped back. "How was your weekend? How is See? You guys have fun?" Her voice was tired. Exhausted.

"It was alright. Missed you. How are you doing?"

Jessie's mouth worked a couple of times like she was trying to say several things and thinking better of each one. "It's been tough. Thanks for the food, the texts. They all helped."

"Good. You need anything?"

Her eyes flicked dully around the hallway intersection, found a clock. "I'll be home about two in the morning, and then I need to sleep. Next to you. For about a year."

I chuckled. "I can do that."

"Yay." All the life seemed to have left her voice, her face, her demeanor.

Back down the corridor, someone called her name, and she glanced back. "I gotta run." There was a pause. "I LOVE you, daddy," she said fiercely, her voice low.

"I love you too."

And then my gothic lover was gone, darting back through the crowd until her turquoise scrubs blended with those around her and she was lost from view.

"Enjoy the burgers," I told the nurse at the desk, and then I headed for the parking garage.

###

I sat on the driver's seat of the truck, not wanting to turn the key. What was it the newscaster had said? Distinctive whine, five or more seconds?

I had no reason to think my truck had been bombed while I was inside, but back in this epicenter city of political violence, anything was possible. I turned the key and the truck roared to life, and I laughed like a lunatic after half a minute.

My laughter subsided into hiccups and coughs, and I fought tears as I stared at the steering wheel. I had no right to cry. No right to feel the way I did. Motherfuck, I had been on a private fucking island, creampie-ing a hot blonde all weekend while Jessie had been slogging through blood and shit and pain.

Maybe I felt the way I did because I knew some of what these people had been through.

I shook my head to clear it of memories of rain and the exquisitely excruciating pain of my nearly amputated arm brushing the pavement, and the panicked view of the white and black sights shaking on top of my Glock nine.

My hands wouldn't hold still and I felt guilty for feeling anything at all.

Dammit.

###

Sienna had cleaned up by the time I got back home. McKenna had left, and left me a very filthy, very detailed letter about what she wanted me to do to her mouth, pussy, and butt the next time we got together, and the names she wanted to be called while I did those things.

I smirked at the thought of the dirty-minded little genius programmer. Cute girl.

Smart girl.

It was late in the evening, Jane was in bed already, so I made dinner for Jessie. Stir fry with beef, and I put two cubes and two fingers of Wild Turkey in the freezer for her.

Ten o'clock and I started dishes. My hands had stopped shaking but only barely. I scrubbed dishes viciously in water that was near to boiling, tried to focus my agitation and feeling of upset on something else. I wanted to take this away from Jessie. I wanted to be the one to shoulder her burden. She hadn't done this before, hasn't seen the shit I had, hadn't seen violence and death up close.

I'd give anything to fix it.

"How's Jessie?" Sienna asked. She'd changed into athletic shorts and a t-shirt, and after seeing her all weekend wearing it, her neck looked different without the emerald and black leather collar. I'd taken it off her on the yacht and put it in HER luggage.

I shrugged, my hands covered in suds. "She's had a hard time. She's strong. I'll know more when she gets home."

"Anything I can do for her?"

"I don't know."

The blonde scrubbed at the dishes with a towel, setting them aside with a clink. "You'll let me know if there is?"

"Yeah."

After a long silence, she said "Is there anything I can do for you?"

I chuckled. "Not really."

She turned me with a hand on my shoulder. "I know you're hurting too. It's in your voice, the way you stand. If you need to let it out... Take it out on someone... You can do that." Her mouth quirked upwards in a barely-there smile. "Hurt me?"

Those fucking words.

I thought about it. How good she'd look naked. How fantastic her body would feel against me. The rush of power I'd feel making her do things to please me. How her sounds of pleasure and pain would turn me on.

How good it would feel to let my dark side out to hurt someone in an approved fashion.

"I want to, See. I WANT you."

She set the towel down. "Ok. How do you want me? Where?"

"I NEED Jessie."

Another slight smile and she resumed drying the dishes. "And that's the way it should be," she said quietly.

I let the water out of the sink, watched it swirl down the drain. I dried my hands, turned Sienna by her shoulders to face me. The warm skin under the thin t-shirt turned me on, reminded me of the gorgeous, nude, WILLING body under the clothes. I leaned down and kissed her forehead. "Go sleep next to your daughter, See."

She smiled. "Ok." A turn of the heel before she hit the stairs. "Gary?"

"Yeah."

"Let me know if there's anything I can do for her, ok? I...I love her too."

"Yeah."

Then she was gone, and I was alone in the brightly lit kitchen, the house, the world dark around me. I poured myself a drink, sat down at the table and wondered what the fuck was going on in my life.

###

I heard Jessie's Monte Carlo at two twenty-five, and she walked in at two-thirty. She smelled like cigarettes, and I tasted tobacco smoke on her lips when I kissed her. She moved woodenly, and I made sure to stay out of her way after I released her from the hug. "There's stir fry in the fridge, a glass of cold Turkey in the freezer"

She smiled, barely. "Thank you."

"Anything else I can do for you?"

"Not right now."

I watched her eat and drink at the table, completely silent. Usually she flicked through her phone at least. Instead, she just wolfed food down like she was eating on a timer.

"Are you ok?"

She stopped, frozen. Chewed slowly. Didn't say anything for a long time. When she spoke, it was soft, but robotic. "They told us to put Vics under our noises do we wouldn't smell the burned skin. It peels off like they're not people, like people shouldn't. Like they're chicken. It sticks to clothing, melts with polyester."

Dammit.

What do you say to that?

I reached out and put my hand over hers, and she flinched, then relaxed, infinitesimally.