Cocky Flyboy by Susan Horsnell

TIM

I watched Melissa pad carefully to her suite, noticing how she held her ribs, giving support.

My mind was reeling as I tried to wrap my thoughts around how Melissa had suffered. Held prisoner for eight years. For eight years, she had been at the beck and call of some monster who’d delighted in using her as a punching bag. I wanted to give him a dose of his own medicine-beat him to a pulp. If only she’d trust me enough to give me the name of the asshole.

I wasn’t in the mood for watching television, so after securing the apartment, I took myself off to bed to read. I was currently reading the latest book from my favorite crime author and found myself intrigued by the rapidly changing plot. At this point, I had no idea who the villain could be. After a few pages, when my eyes became too heavy to keep open, I placed the book on my nightstand, turned out the lamp, and settled in to sleep. It had been a long and harrowing day.

Images of Melissa played on a loop in my mind. One image before the beating, one following. She was not only gorgeous to look at but appeared to have a sensitive, caring nature. Why would anyone harm her or any human?

I was completely flummoxed as to why she drew me to her like a moth is drawn to bright light. My protective instincts had jumped to attention the moment I saw she was being manhandled by the drunken passenger. I’d wanted to tear his damn arm off and beat him to death with the soggy end.

I had never felt such an overwhelming need to prevent someone from even the slightest harm as I did with Melissa. Maybe a night out, a quick fuck with a willing blonde, was what was needed to set my world back on its axis. So why did I find the idea totally repulsive?

I slipped a hand beneath the flannel pajama pants I was wearing and fisted my cock. Just thinking about the lady down the hall had turned me hard. Tightening my fist around the thick girth, I massaged from my balls to the engorged head. Flicking my thumb over the slit on each pass, I gathered the precum, spreading it over the length as my hand continued back and forth. I pushed back the covers, freeing myself from their confines.

My ass cheeks clenched; my hips lifted as I thrust faster and faster through my fist.

Faster.

Harder.

My breathing became choppy. Images of Melissa’s full lips in a teasing pout, her eyes filled with lust, were front and center in my mind. When my balls climbed up hard against my groin and my cock began to pulse, I groaned loudly. Ribbons of cum burst from me with force, coating my hand and slapping onto my chest.

I shuddered from the force of the powerful orgasm; it had near on blown my head from my shoulders. Steadying my breathing, I relaxed back against the pillows until the mind-blowing experience had come to an end. After paying a visit to the attached bathroom to clean up, I climbed back into bed. Sated and relaxed, I passed out into sleep.

****

I woke with a start, my heart hammering in my chest. Blood-curdling screams came from the direction of Melissa’s suite and had me catapulting from the bed. I sprinted to her room and burst through the door. When I entered her bedroom, I flipped on the light and searched frantically for her, seeing she was not in bed.

I found her cowered in a corner on the far side of the bed. Her eyes were partially open, wild with fear, and her arms outstretched as if protecting herself from someone.

“No. Please, Lincoln. No!”

Tears streamed over her cheeks. Seeing her so vulnerable and terrified broke my heart. Who the fuck had done this to her? It was obvious she was reliving a traumatic experience and wasn’t aware that she was now safe.

I approached her slowly, getting low to the ground, and spoke softly. She was looking at me, but when she screamed out, I knew it wasn’t me she was seeing.

“LINCOLN, NO!”

She curled herself into a tight ball and I dropped to my knees in front of her.

“Melissa, honey. It’s me, Tim.” I carefully placed a hand on her arm.

She screamed out, lifting both arms to protect her face.

“Melissa! Look at me. It’s Tim. You’re safe, honey.”

She pushed herself closer to the wall that she was already jammed tight against. I had no idea how to help her, so decided to try to shock her awake. I just hoped like hell I didn’t cause her any further trauma.

“MELISSA!”

My shouting worked. She dropped her arms and looked at me with a shocked expression on her face.

“Tim? What are you doing here? Why aren’t you dressed?”

I breathed a sigh of relief, at least she knew who I was. “You’re at my apartment. I brought you here after you were allowed to leave the hospital yesterday.”

Her eyes darted around the room and one hand reached to her injured face. When she attempted to stand, I rose, scooped her into my arms, and lowered her onto the bed. Sitting down beside her, I took a hand into mine.

“What happened?” She clearly didn’t remember her nightmare.

“You had a nightmare.”

“Oh. I’m sorry I woke you.”

“That doesn’t matter. Are you okay? Can I get you a glass of water?”

“No, thank you. Will you stay until I go back to sleep?”

“Of course, scoot over.” Crossing to the door, I switched out the light before climbing into the bed.

Rolling Melissa onto her side, I pulled her back against my chest and drew the covers over both of us.

Lincoln. I now had the bastard’s name. Before I left for the airport, I’d call Gary and ask him to investigate if there was someone influential in Springfield known by that name.

With Melissa sleeping peacefully in my arms, I drifted off.

****

I slipped quietly from the bed the following morning while Melissa remained deep in sleep. I hadn’t wanted her to wake with me still in her bed. It would probably give her a fright if she didn’t remember what had taken place the previous night.

After showering and dressing in a pair of faded blue jeans, white polo shirt and white sneakers, I sat on my bed and dialed Gary’s personal cell phone.

“You’re up early.” Gary’s voice was clear, indicating I hadn’t woken him.

“I’m taking the kids up today and need to be at the airport in an hour.”

“So why the call?”

“Melissa had a nightmare last night. I found her screaming and cowering in a corner on the floor. She was petrified and begging someone called Lincoln to leave her alone. We talked yesterday, and she told me about how she’d been held prisoner and regularly beaten for the past eight years of her life. She managed to escape and changed her name, but he still found her. She wouldn’t give me his name. All she would say was that he was powerful and influential. Can you see what you can find?”

Lincoln is a pretty common name these days, but if he has a high profile, as Melissa said, I should be able to find something. I’ll call you later today.”

“Thanks. I should be home around four, we’ll talk then.”

I disconnected the call, and as I passed Melissa’s suite on the way to the kitchen, the door flew open, and she stepped into the hallway. We were both startled. She placed the hand of her uninjured arm to her chest.

“You scared the life out of me. I was just going to look for a plastic bag to put over the brace so I can have a bath.”

“Sorry, I was on my way to the kitchen. I’m sure there will be some bags in the pantry cupboard. Would you like to join me for breakfast?”

“I would like that, coffee and toast please?”

“Consider it done.” I waved her ahead of me, and as I followed, I noted her slender figure dressed in a pair of sleep shorts and tank top. My cock flinched with interest at the sight of her tight backside, and it took everything in me not to groan.

For fuck sake, Reisher. The woman is injured, she doesn’t need you drooling over her.

When we reached the kitchen, and she turned to face me, I commented on how much better she looked. The bruising on her face and shoulders was varying shades of black and blue, it would take some time to settle, but the swelling on her face and around her eyes had lessened considerably. She could now almost completely open her beautiful eyes. They were bloodshot, but I knew they would be clear again soon.

“I feel a little better and there doesn’t seem to be the throbbing and pain I had yesterday. I’m a fast healer, and my body has learned to bounce back.”

Her comment made me angry, but I turned away to pull the toaster from a cupboard. She shouldn’t have to be a fast healer. I was going to find the prick who hurt her if it was the last thing I did.

I plugged the toaster into a socket on the wall and pushed down the lever to get it warmed and ready for use. Bread and several spreads were pulled from the refrigerator and placed on the counter.

“I’ll take care of the toast while you make coffee,” Melissa offered.

My first instinct was to tell her to sit and relax, but I didn’t want her to feel useless, that she was doing nothing to contribute and was taking advantage of my kindness. So, I agreed. We worked quietly, side by side, and when everything was ready, we carried it all to the table and sat.

“Would you like me to butter your toast?”

Melissa nodded and pushed a plate with two slices toward me. “Butter and strawberry jam, please.”

I prepared the two slices, poured coffee into a mug, added creamer as she preferred, and set it before her.

“What are your plans for today?” I sucked down a mouthful of coffee before taking a bite of toast spread with honey.

“After I have a bath, I thought I would go out for a walk. I need the fresh air.”

When I opened my mouth to protest about her safety, she held up a hand, effectively silencing me.

“He won’t be back, Tim. Please don’t ask me to stay locked up, it’s taken me a long time to be free.” Tears filled her eyes.

Fuck.I’d forgotten that she hadn’t been able to set foot outside for eight years. Even though I was concerned, there was no way I was going to confine her to the apartment. Hopefully, she was right, and she had seen the last of Lincoln.

“Please be careful, and if anything seems out of place or worries you, go into one of the stores where there are people and stay put. Call me if you feel afraid.”

She placed her hand over mine. “Please don’t worry about me; enjoy your time with the children.”

“I should be home around four, but if you do feel afraid, I can send someone for you. Can you tell Mrs. Pearson we’ll order in tonight?”

“I could manage on my own. I feel terrible about her being here on her day off. Please call and tell her I feel much better and to enjoy her day.”

I wasn’t happy about her request, but I had a feeling she had been controlled at every turn, and I wanted to give her the freedom that she’d fought so hard for to make her own choices.

“I’ll call from the car and tell her but promise me if you need help, you’ll call.”

“I give you my word.”

We finished breakfast, cleaned up together, and I keyed the code for the elevator into her phone. After again reassuring me she was fine, I left for the airport.