Until Trevor (Until, #2)(64)
I can feel myself beginning to lose it when I feel her * practically begging to convulse around me, each stroke pulling us both closer and closer. “Come with me. Shit, come with me.” I put my hand between her legs, pinching her clit and sending her over with me. I rolled over so she was on top of me, both of us breathing deeply. “We just consummated our marriage,” I say on a puff of air. She starts laughing, her head coming up.
“We did; now it’s official. You’re stuck with me, Mr. Mayson.”
“Thank f*ck.” I pull her head back down, kissing the top. “How about the hot tub now?”
“Sure, just let me lay here for a few minutes.”
“You can relax in the hot tub.” I palm her ass, stand up, and carry her outside to the hot tub. And this is how we spend our honeymoon. Sleeping late, breakfast in bed, lazing around the cabin while reading, watching movies, kayaking on the lake, and nights and days making love.
Chapter 12
“Liz.” I can hear my name being called, and I know the voice, but don’t know why Kara would be calling my name when I’m on my honeymoon with Trevor.
“Hmm?” I answer from my groggy state.
“Liz.” I try to lift my head, but become dizzy from the sharp pain that slices through my head. Then I remember that today is my first day back at work. I was there with Kara when two guys came into the store and forced us at gunpoint out to their van. When I tried to prevent them from taking Kara, something slammed into the back of my head.
“Kara?” I ask, trying to open my eyes; but they seem too heavy, my body to tired. I try to fight against the feeling that is pulling me back under, knowing I need to make sure Kara’s okay.
“Liz, you need to wake up.” She shakes me and I’m finally able to open my eyes enough to see her standing over me. “Thank God,” she says, falling to her knees next to me.
“Are you okay?” I look her over, noticing her clothing intact, and no bruising or scratches are on her.
“Fine…fine.” She holds her face in her hands. “After they knocked you out, I didn’t try to fight them.” She lifts her face, looking at me. “I’m so sorry. They’re looking for Tim. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to, but I told them where he is,” she whispers, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“It’s okay, calm down.” I lift my hand, holding hers. After a few minutes, I’m finally able to sit up. When I look around, I notice that the only light we have is coming from a small battery operated lantern. When I take in our surroundings, I know exactly where we are; well, not exactly, because there are thousands of tornado shelters all over Tennessee, and this one looks like it’s been abandoned for a long time. The old cement block walls are disintegrating; the shelves that are supposed to hold supplies are rotten, the smell of mold is so strong that my stomach turns. “How long was I out?”
“I don’t know. A while. When they finally stopped, one of the guys took you out of the van, while the other one questioned me about Tim.” She starts to cry again, this time, holding her very large stomach.
“Kara, you need to calm down. I know you’re upset, but if you go into labor right now, this whole situation is going to go from bad to worse.”
“How can I be calm? I just handed over my fiancé to men who want to kill him.” She cries harder.
“Kara, I know that you’re scared for Tim; but right now, you need to think about you and the baby.” I rub her arm, trying to calm her down. “Tim is working with Trevor and his brothers. He is in a better situation than us right now.” I remind her of where Tim is at this moment, hoping that it will help to calm her down enough to help me get us out of this hellhole. After a few minutes, her crying stops, and she uncovers her face. “We need to try and get out of here.” I tell her, trying to stand. My legs wobble, and I stumble sideways into the wall.
“You’re bleeding.”
“What?” I ask, leaning against the wall. The back of my head pounds with every beat of my heart. I lift my hand to the back of my head; that’s when I feel the large wound and the wetness from my blood against my fingers. When I bring my hand near my face, it’s covered with blood. “Shit,” I breathe, closing my eyes.
“I’m going to be sick.” Kara goes to the corner, throwing up and making my already-queasy stomach lurch. I swallow against the feeling. We both don’t need to be sick at the same time; one of us needs to have it together.
“They say head wounds bleed a lot more than any other wound,” I say. I’m not sure if I’m saying this for me or for her. She lifts her head, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand, looking at me. “We’re going to get out of here, Kara; I promise.”
“Okay,” she says. I can see how scared she is when she doesn’t look at me. Using the wall for balance, I make my way to the set of stairs that lead to the large double doors. Once there, I climb up on my hands and knees to the top, pushing against the doors. They don’t budge an inch not that I’m surprised. I scoot down the stairs, sitting at the bottom of the steps, trying to come up with a plan.
“What if we both try?” Kara asks. I lift my head, looking at her standing in front of me; her face is pale, her eyes red from crying.