Preferring to keep my whereabouts unknown by my father, I withdrawn my hand from Justine’s soaked panties before stepping back, unpinning her from the door.
My voice is rough with endorphins, but it still holds its usually arrogance when I growl, “Get rid of her.”
Justine’s address may be on my home arrest documentation, but Vladimir knows as well as anyone that proof is in the eye of the beholder. He won’t believe I placed myself under home arrest at my defense attorney’s apartment any more than I’m shocked I cooked up the idea. This is the first time I’ve been led by my cock, and look where it’s gotten me? The indents of my zipper are imprinted in my cock.
When the person responsible for the interlude in our activities knocks for the third time, Justine straightens her clothing before swinging open the door. An old bitty with a headful of silver curls falls forward at a rate too quick for her chubby feet to keep up with. She doesn’t have far to fall—she’d be lucky to be four-feet tall—but Justine saves her from landing on the tiles of the entryway by grabbing the tops of her arms.
“Whoa, careful,” Justine mutters to her guest.
Just as quickly as her guest’s hands shoot up to check none of her ringlets bobbed out of place, Justine has her back on her feet.
The whistle I heard earlier amplifies when the lady I’d guess to be mid to late seventies says, “Sheesh. You had me worried, honey. I wasn’t sure if you had company, or if these old girls were playing tricks on me.” She taps on a hearing aid curled around her ear. “It’s been a while since I’ve heard those noises come from this apartment. I honestly couldn’t tell if they were cries for help, or if you were...”
Her words trail off when I fail to stifle my chuckle. I’m not embarrassed she heard Justine’s cries of ecstasy. I’m fucking stoked even someone as ancient as her recognizes the moans of a woman in need. If she has the ability, perhaps it won’t take me as long to coerce Justine into a second ‘entrapment’ against her front door.
“Oh, excuse me, young man.” She’s fast, but I don’t miss her quick scan of my body before her eyes rocket back to Justine. They’re even wider than her circled lips. “I best let you get back to it.”
When she pivots on her heels, preparing to exit, Justine slams her front door shut, endangering her life. Archaic old lady or not, nothing will stop me making Justine mine tonight.
“Oh, no, don’t leave. We’re not doing anything you can’t participate in.” When the elderly lady eyes Justine like she wasn’t born many moons ago, Justine coughs out the most pathetic excuse I’ve ever heard. “I stubbed my toe. It really hurt.” She curls her arm around the interrupter’s shoulders before ushering her into the living room. “We’re long overdue for an official introduction.”
“Are you sure I’m not interrupting something?” Justine’s elderly guest is acting as if she wants to leave, but her bouncing eyes say otherwise. She’s been dying for this moment for months. I guarantee it.
“I’m not a patient man,Ahren. Make this quick,” I growl at Justine in Russian, eyeing her with the eyes of both a murderer and a desperate man.
Justine’s head bobs half an inch when her guest breaks away from her side. “Oh, dear, are you hurt?”
I’m so shocked when she grabs my face to inspect the wounds my all-in brawl caused, I represent avyperduschwith half a cock. No one handles me without asking, but she’s not really handling me, is she? She is trying to take care of me.
My assumptions are proven accurate when she drifts her eyes to Justine and asks, “Where’s your first aid kit? If we don’t address his injuries, they may scar.” My zipper stops biting my cock when she returns her eyes to mine. They’re brimming with unhidden admirations, and they make my skin crawl. I may fuck whores, but I still have very high standards. “We wouldn’t want any nasty little marks ruining such a handsome face.”
When she claps her hands together two times, Justine jumps into action. She races across the living room, forgetting the excuse she used to cover up her cries of ecstasy.
I stop summarizing the many ways I can force Justine’s visitor to take a leave of absence when she mutters under her breath, “Stubbed toe, hey.”
The redness on Justine’s cheeks deepens from her guest’s leering comment, but she continues her mission to fetch the first-aid kit from the bathroom, unwilling to test her ability to think on the spot against a woman as quick-witted as this silver-haired hellion.
In a record breaking three seconds, Justine thrusts an unused first-aid kit into the chest of our interrupter. “Here you go.”
I eye the elderly lady in confusion when her chin hair wobbles along with her pencil thin brow. Is she requesting for me to sit on the couch brushing the back my knees, or are her nighttime suppositories not working as intended? I’m truly unsure. Her angry face is identical to the one Roman makes when he’s constipated.
When Justine mouths a quick, “please,” I realize it’s the former, but before I can act on her request, Justine snatches a cotton ball out of the elderly lady’s hand, shoves me into the armchair with force, then mumbles, “Let me, Ms. Aaronson.”
The burn scorching my face is forgotten when Ms. Aaronson scolds Justine about her rough application of the iodine. “Gentle dabs.”
She displays what she means on a handful of smaller scratches in my cheek before leaving Justine to handle the bigger ones. She’s clearly smarter than she looks. If she had hurt me, unintentionally or not, I don’t know how I would have reacted. Violence is usually my go-to reaction, I punish first, ask questions later, but I don’t see me facing the same conflict with Justine. I don’t know why. The thought just doesn’t anger me as you’d expect.
“Much better,” Ms. Aaronson praises Justine when she blows on a cut in my left brow I didn’t know existed until now.
I’m going to assume the gash is compliments to Detective Franco guiding me into the back of his unmarked cruiser. I was having too much fun goading him about his sister to worry about a little sting to the forehead.
I watch Justine closely when a ghost-like smile stretches across her face. The woman seated across from me isn’t a wannabe defense attorney or a woman on the verge of a climax. She’s just her. An angel trapped in a void she doesn’t know how to get out of, but is still capable of spreading her wings to help others.
As the bright gleam in her eyes lessens their blackness, a faint pink hue creeps across her milky white skin.
“Do you know your smile extends all the way down here?” I brush the back of my hand down the silky smooth skin high on her inner thigh. My cock aches to sink into her when the faint red coloring inflames from my briefest touch. “As does your excitement.”
I slump into my chair with a laugh when Justine backhands my chest. Her slap is the equivalent of a fairy tap, but the playfulness it arrives with denotes fireworks in her eyes. She’s grappling to reach the top of the food chain, and I’m on the verge of letting her win.
