Gaby almost smiled over the feeling of power.
A different type of power from what she was used to.
A more satisfying type of power.
“This,” she told him, squeezing a little, measuring the length of his cock by slowly stroking base to tip and back again, “is noticeably bigger than two fingers. I’m not sure it’d work.”
Muscles tensed and voice rough, Luther said, “I know I hurt you—”
“Ha. Let me tell you something, Luther. That wasn’t pain. Not even close. In fact . . .” While keeping him captive in her hand, Gaby let loose a wide-jawed yawn. “It was relaxing.”
He closed his eyes against a private struggle. “Trust me, honey, when it happens, you’re going to love it.”
“More than I enjoyed that?” She wouldn’t use the “L” word in any context, so he could forget it.
His big hand covered hers, but not to move her hand away. He pressed her closer. “How much did you enjoy it?”
“You want honesty, right?”
Disquiet nudged aside the sexual voracity on his face. “Always.”
She inhaled, then exhaled long and slow. “I’m familiar with pain, ya know? It’s a part of my daily life, coming and going in varying degrees, emotionally and physically.”
“Gaby.” He touched his forehead to hers.
A lump formed in Gaby’s throat, and she had one hell of a time swallowing. “What you just gave to me . . . well, it’s startling because I didn’t know anything could feel like that. For a split second of time, I don’t think I was aware of anything other than what I felt.”
“That bothers you?”
“It makes me vulnerable.”
“Not when you’re with me. Never with me.” He pulled her hand away and enclosed her in his arms. “When you’re with me, you’re always safe.”
Gaby didn’t tell him how absurdly naïve he had to be to believe such a thing. Truth was, Luther was safer with her, not the other way around.
But she supposed a big macho cop who’d just given a woman that kind of pleasure really didn’t want to hear reality.
He kissed her ear. “I can tell you don’t believe me, and that’s okay, because I can’t convince you right now. We need time enough and place proper to get naked and be at our leisure. Then you’ll truly see what I mean.” He smoothed her hair. “But until then, don’t judge all men by the fools using prostitutes, and don’t go frustrated, now that you know I can help.”
Gaby eyed him up and down. Just what the hell was he offering? “So when I need you, there you are?” She snapped her fingers. “Ready and willing?”
“Don’t push it, woman.” His smile took the insult out of his warning. Tugging her away from the car, he opened the car door and gestured for her to get in. “Time for us to go.”
In a stupor of newfound information and physical repletion, Gaby dropped inside.
When Luther got behind the wheel, he said again, “I’ll pick you up for breakfast tomorrow morning. Is eight good for you?”
Time frames didn’t mean the same to her as they did to ordinary people. Unlike most of society, she didn’t feel the need to keep regular hours. Hell, she wasn’t even sure what regular hours might be.
Sure, she knew that people wanted to be awake with the sun, and to sleep with the moon. But for her, life wasn’t that simple. Immorality erupted with an eternity of determination. For evil, the clock didn’t tick, the sun didn’t set.
For evil, there was no respite.
For one who fought evil, the same rules applied.
Gaby had adjusted by waking when she woke, acting when necessary, and sleeping when her conscience, and God, allowed.
“Gaby?” Luther pressed. “Is eight o’clock good for you?”
Shaking off the morbid substantiality of her existence, Gaby made a face. “I’m not a big eater, as you can tell by my prominent bones.”
“I like your bones.” He winked at her. “But you could stand to gain a little weight.”
“Yeah, well, since leaving Mort’s, breakfast has been way down there on my list of things to do.”
“We can change that—starting tomorrow.”
“We’ll see.” She looked back at the tall brick structure, well lit but still dreary. With the taint of Gaby’s discordant memories, the hospital looked more like a gnarled head-stone than a place of sanctuary. “I hate hospitals.”
“I know, but she’ll be safe here. They’ll take care of her.”
Gaby shook her head. “I don’t know, Luther. It doesn’t seem right to let her out of my sight. I have a very bad feeling about all this.”
When Luther stared at her for an extended time, Gaby turned to him and said, “What?”
“You really think something will happen to her here?”
She shrugged. “I think something can happen to her here. That’s enough for me.”
After another second of contemplation, he nodded. “All right then.” To Gaby’s surprise, Luther pulled out his cell and put in a call, requesting a uniformed cop to stand watch.
He’d taken her concerns seriously?
Another first for her, and just as satisfying as what he’d done to her with his fingers.
“Someone will be here within five minutes.” Luther dug out a card and held it toward her. “I hope that puts you more at ease.”
She eyed the card, but didn’t take it. “It helps.”
Exasperated, Luther lifted her hand, pressed the card to her palm, and folded her fingers around it. “Promise me that if the bad feeling sticks with you, you’ll call me.”
Studying the card, Gaby read Luther’s name, his phone numbers. “If someone’s already watching over her, then why would I call and bother you?”
He didn’t laugh at her. “It’s what friends do, Gaby. They lean on each other in times of worry.”
Friends.
Yeah, she was collecting them like cooties these days.
She could deal with it now, but somehow she figured that she and Luther were more than friends. What, she couldn’t say. But even before her sexual instruction, she’d accepted that being with him was not the same as being with Morty or Bliss.
Headlights cut through the dark night, and a car pulled into the parking lot. Luther went on alert, watching the car but also studying the rest of the lot. Gaby did the same, unwilling to let a distraction with one car cause distraction over a bigger concern.
The car parked, the driver got out, and with a single click that sounded a beep and flashed his lights, locked the BMW. He’d parked in the doctor’s section, and hurried inside.
Dismissing him as a threat, Luther’s keen gaze studied the rest of the surrounding area.
Gaby didn’t tell him that no enmity lurked. If it did, she’d know it. “I hate to break this to you, cop, but I don’t have a phone.”
Settling back in his seat, Luther made a face of long-suffering acceptance. “Course you don’t. Why would I think you did?”
“I don’t know. You’re strange that way.” Another car pulled in, this one a police cruiser. “Who would I call, anyway?”
Luther waited until he saw a uniformed officer get out and enter the building. “Want to go in and make sure he’s set up?”
“No need.” Tiredness pulled at Gaby, and she wanted to drop. While the evil rested, she needed to rest, too—because it wasn’t over.
Not by a long shot.
Again, Luther believed in her. He started the car and pulled out of the hospital parking lot onto the deserted streets. On the drive back to her room, he said very little.
For her part, Gaby dozed in her seat, rethinking what Luther had done to her, and how easy it had been for him. When he pulled up in front of the building, she unfastened her seat belt, anxious to be alone.
Luther reached over and caught her arm. “You should know, Gaby, the women have been warned of a problem.”
She accepted that—and how futile such a warning would be. “It won’t stop them from doing what they do. It’s how they survive.”
“It could be how they die.”
“I know.” Just because she wanted to, because she needed to, Gaby leaned across the seat and kissed him. “They don’t have any choice, though.”