Tymber Dalton - Pinch Me

Rob reached out and touched the man’s arm. “I promise, you’ll get to see her soon.”

“Why can’t we talk to her on the phone?”

“Because she doesn’t know you. I’m not even talking to her on the phone.”

Steve leaned against the counter and shook his head. “I just…I can’t believe it. Does she remember anything?”

“She almost had a memory about that trip when we found the lobster. The picture triggered something.”

“Then we should get her in here soon.”

“I know. I agree. But she needs to be in the hospital right now for another couple of days. She’s still in a lot of pain from her injuries, and she looks like hell.” He choked back his own emotions. “He beat the crap out of her, Steve,” he admitted. “He nearly killed her. And to be honest? I feel better having her in the hospital right now. As long as she’s there, they’ll keep a deputy at her door. Once she’s out of there I can’t protect her every second of the day.”

“You know damn well I’ll help.”

“I know. But what if who did this is a customer? What if he walks in here and shoots her?”

Steve’s face darkened. “That detective was already in here. Went through records a few times. I gave him everything he asked for. Class rosters, charter manifests, receipts, everything.”

“And that’s a start.”

After a few silent moments, it looked like all the anger seeped out of the older man. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Rob knew he needed to give the man a little more info to keep him happy. “I told Laura’s friend, Shayla, she could visit her. She came last night with her husband, and she’s there with her right now. I don’t want Carol to know that. I don’t want her feelings hurt.”

Steve slowly nodded. “She’s really close to Shayla.”

“I thought if there was a single person other than me who could trigger something, it might be Shayla.”

Steve let out a resigned sigh. “You’re right. No, I won’t tell Carol.” He met Rob’s gaze. “If I could get my hands on that fucker…” He didn’t finish.

Rob squeezed Steve’s shoulder. “You and me, both. Believe me.”

As he climbed into his Explorer, Rob spotted a duffel bag on the floor behind the passenger seat. He dragged it into his lap and unzipped it.

Royal blue rope.

He fingered it. He didn’t have to unpack the rope to know that under it lay several carabiners, other clips, a ball gag, and a blindfold.

Angrily, he zipped it up and tossed it into the backseat before starting the engine. His mind drifted as he drove.

Two? No, three weeks earlier. He’d packed that bag for a small private party at Tony and Shayla’s.

Seth and Leah, Loren and Ross, and Tilly and her men had also been there. Rob was scheduled to work that Saturday and wouldn’t be at dinner or the club, so they’d set it up for him.

Because they were friends and loved him and Laura both.

Laura still went out to Sigalo’s on Saturday night with the rest of the gang, and then spent a little time socializing later at the club.

But that night, in Tony’s private playroom, Rob had tied Laura in a chest harness before binding her, helpless, to a bench.

Her soft cries still rang in his ears as he’d inserted a vibrator into her pussy before using another piece of rope to secure it in place.

And turned it on, forbidding her from coming under threat of five cane strokes, part of the sadistic fun knowing she wouldn’t be able to hold back and that she was more than willing to sacrifice five strokes for the orgasms.

How she’d moaned when he stepped in front of her and unzipped his jeans, her eager mouth wide and willing while a fine sheen of sweat coated her skin.

How he’d grabbed her head firmly. “Have you come yet?”

She shook her head, mouth still wide open and ready.

Sadistic glee filled him. This was a routine they’d gone through countless times before, one she loved despite the resulting cane strokes.

Loved him taking charge and owning her, loved knowing he would follow through.

How she moaned, the sound vibrating through his cock, deep into his balls, as he fucked her mouth and her warm lips and tongue stroked him.

How she moaned again, harder, louder, with a mix of dismay and gleeful anticipation when he reached down and twisted her nipples.

How she moaned even more deeply when that finished her off and the orgasm washed over her, arching her against her restraints as she sucked him harder.

“There’s your five, baby girl,” he’d told her, loving how she moaned again, sucking him harder, more deeply, writhing against the ropes as she fucked her hips against the air and the bench as the vibrator hummed inside her.

It only made him want to fuck her more and harder, but instead, he withdrew before she could make him come. She whined in disappointment, but he wouldn’t be denied. He carefully tucked his protesting cock back into his jeans and walked around behind her.

First, he prepared a butt plug and, even as the vibrator continued humming inside her, he slowly and carefully inserted it, making her cry out as another series of orgasms washed through her.

And then…

Then, the Hitachi.

How he held it pressed firmly against her clit, still turned off, as with his other hand he brushed the cane against her ass.

“Time to pay up, baby girl. Ask me for it.”

She struggled to speak through the effects of the vibrator and butt plug on her brain. “Please give me my five, Sir!”

“Good girl.” He clicked on the Hitachi, on high, and took the first swing across her ass with the cane.

She screamed, in pleasure and pain, as she came again.

He drew it out, knowing how she loved it, the short-circuiting of her brain as he combined each painful cane stroke with the overwhelming pleasure of the Hitachi.

When she’d taken all five strokes, he turned off the Hitachi and set it and the cane down before returning to her head.

She still shivered, the other vibrator inside her not letting her completely stop orgasming.

He unzipped his jeans again and she opened her lips without prompting.

“Such a good girl.” He stroked her hair as he fucked her mouth, going faster but careful not to gag her, his own groan joining with hers as his balls tightened, then emptied, and she swallowed every drop of cum he fed her.

How later, on Tony’s couch, Laura had blissfully curled up in a blanket, her head in his lap while he talked with their friends.

How they’d gone home and she’d fallen asleep in his arms.

He barely missed rear-ending a car in front of him, jamming on the brakes and forcing his brain back to the present.

What kind of monster am I to think about stuff like that now?

When she looked horrible and had barely begun to heal from the attack?

Now was not the time for those kinds of thoughts.

And if she didn’t get her memory back, he was all too aware of how those thoughts might be all he had left of their former dynamic.

When Rob returned to the hospital a little before six that evening, he found Laura and Shayla both sitting on the bed, cross-legged, side by side. Shayla had her iPhone in hand and was showing something to Laura.

They both looked up when he walked in. The nearly identical expressions on their faces made his heart ache. He and Tony had frequently joked with each other that the two women truly were twins from different mothers. Not just their mannerisms and how they talked, they even looked a lot alike.

“What’re you looking at?” he asked.

“Shayla was showing me the website for the shop and some of the articles I wrote.”

Why didn’t I think of that? He set the pizza boxes on the bed tray table. He’d grabbed three extra large pies, more than enough to feed them and the deputy on duty, with plenty left over to give to the nursing staff. He knew from experience they didn’t always get a chance to get a good meal. “Anything?”

Laura shrugged. “A little. I looked at pictures on the shop’s website. Shayla said I built the website?”

He didn’t miss how it was a question, not a statement. “You did. You taught yourself how to do it.”

“Oh.” She cocked her head as if she didn’t believe him, either. “Really?”

He smiled. “Really. You’re quite good at it.”

“Oh.” She wrinkled her nose as she sniffed at the pizzas. “That smells good.”

He felt the shift in her focus as surely as he could feel a shift in the winds on the open Gulf. Laura was now fully focused on the pizzas.

Part of him hoped that was just a side effect of the memory loss. His Laura would remain almost maniacally focused on one thing for hours on end. It was what made her a great writer, as well as a good teacher.

He moved the plastic bag containing the handful of paper plates, roll of paper towels, and several bottles of water he’d grabbed from the house after walking Doogie. Opening the top box, he said, “Extra cheese, mushrooms, black olives. One of your favorites.”

She peeked in. “The others?”

“One with the works, for me, and one with ham and pepperoni.”

Within a few minutes, the three of them, joined by the deputy, were all eating.

Laura wore a thoughtful expression. “Are you all right?” Rob asked.

She slowly nodded.

“Is the pizza okay?”

She nodded again. “I like it.”

“What’s wrong?”

She shrugged as she stared down at her plate after a quick glance at Shayla. “It’s like I told her. I don’t know if what I’m feeling is because I liked it, or because I’ve been told I’ve liked it. Does that make sense?”