Perfume Ch. 07

When she rounded the corner of the building, she ran smack into Bo.

He reached out to grab her before she hit the ground, but Wynston was hysterical.

"Hughes—Wynston, it's me," he said as she fought him. Bo did his best to restrain her.

When his voice registered, Wynston stopped fighting and fell against Bo, dissolving into tears.

"What the fuck happened?!" he demanded.

"He--he...was kissing me! I—oh, God, Bo...he was going to rape me!" Wynston sobbed.

"WHAT?!" he roared, grabbing her hand.

Bo proceeded in the direction Wynston had come flying from; but when he looked down the alley, there was no one there.

He grabbed his radio and was about to speak into it when Wynston stopped him.

"Please, Bo. Don't make a big deal out of it. I'm okay now. I just want to go home," she said.

"Hughes, there's a man out here who hurt you. Look at your fucking face!" he growled, taking in her appearance. Her mouth was bruised and her cheek was swollen where the asshole had obviously hit her; and her clothes were torn.

"What if he tries to hurt somebody else but she's not lucky enough to get away like you did?!"

"Bo, I know, okay. But...it's not going to happen to anybody else. It's just me," she whispered.

Closing her eyes, Wynston felt sick.

"What the hell does that mean?" Bo demanded.

"It means I know the guy." Wynston watched as Bo put his hands on his hips and waited for her to finish.

When she didn't say anymore, he got even more pissed.

Taking a deep breath, Bo tried to calm himself, but the muscle in his jaw continued to jump.

"Wynston...who was it?" he asked quietly.

"I can't say," she whispered.

Bo took another deep breath and let it out. "Why not?"

"Because it will complicate things even more. Eric will kill him," Wynston said.

"Fuck! Was it Rob?!" Bo was nearly shouting.

"No, no...are you crazy? I wouldn't withhold something like that!" she wailed.

"The question is, are YOU crazy?! You shouldn't be withholding this information no matter who the fuck it is! Damn this...I'm taking you in for questioning," Bo said.

"Bo Warren, don't you put your damn hands on me. Listen! It was Detective Mowry!" she blurted.

Bo closed his eyes. "Shit! Eric's going to fuck him up...I'M gonna fuck him up!"

Wynston sighed, not knowing what to do. Of course she should tell Eric, but to what end? Eric seriously was going to kill the detective when he got wind of this.

He had gone ballistic on Rob for only saying foul things about her at the bank...and they hadn't even known each other then. What would he do when he learned that the detective had actually put his hands on her?

"Shit!" she groaned. "This is bad, Bo. If Eric finds out I know he's going to do something crazy."

"What do you mean 'if' he finds out? We're going to the house to tell him right now," Bo said. "Get in the truck, Hughes. I'll follow you home."

His tone brooked no argument.

Defeated, Wynston walked to the truck and got in. As she backed out of the parking space, she once again thought how life changed drastically from one moment to the next.

One second she was on a high from selling her cupcakes.

The next, she was being mauled by Detective Mowry. She was getting damned tired of other people being in such control of her life.

***

As Wynston and Bo pulled into the driveway, Eric got up from where he sat on the porch. He looked rested...and not too friendly.

Before Wynston could open the door, Eric did it for her. "Where have you been, Wynston?" he asked, censure laced all throughout his deep voice.

Damn it, Wynston thought. She was going to get it.

She had left without telling Eric AND had gotten pawed by Detective Mowry? No, it wasn't looking good for her at all.

"I went to deliver the cupcakes," she said quietly.

"Right. I gathered that much. But didn't I ask you to wake me in an hour so I could take you?" he asked. His voice was deceptively quiet, conversational even.

Wynston shifted. She couldn't believe this man had her squirming like she was 10-years-old again. She was a grown woman, damn it!

"Look, Eric, you were asleep, okay? I tried to wake you, but after I couldn't, I decided to let you sleep," she said defensively.

"Wynston, I want you safe. When I ask you to wake me in an hour, I mean it," he said calmly. She could tell it was an effort...and he didn't even know the worst part yet!

Eric turned his attention to his best friend. "Thank you for looking after her. She gave me the slip."

Bo walked to stand beside the two. "Actually, that's not why I'm here. I found her running for her life out of an alley."

Wynston shot Bo a dirty look. Did he have to make it sound so bad?

Eric froze.

He finally took in Wynston's appearance. He had been so angry with her for leaving without him – and for having been gone so long – that he failed to realize that her hair was different, her face was bruised, and her clothes were torn.

He was scowling.

"What the fuck happened?" he stormed.

Bo looked at Wynston pointedly.

"I – somebody approached me in an alleyway," she grumbled.

"What do you mean, 'approached?'" Eric asked. "And what were you doing in a goddamn alley??"

He was slowly losing it.

Wynston took a deep breath and got it over with.

"Detective Mowry came up to me when I was leaving the boutique. He asked me to come with him so I followed him to an alley thinking he had news for me. But he didn't. He kissed me and hit me when I fought him. I believe he would've done more if I hadn't kicked him in the balls and ran. There. That's what happened," Wynston finished.

The entire time she spoke, she had looked down at the ground. When Eric didn't say anything, she looked up timidly.

What she saw made her remember the first day she and Eric had met. Wynston had known that he had a dark side and could be dangerous when he wanted.

Now was one of those times.

Eric was livid. He was breathing rapidly and a long vein ran down the middle of his forehead. His normally laughing, golden eyes were closer to green. It was like he was about to combust.

"Bo!" she said, alarmed.

"Where is he?" Eric growled.

"My deputies tracked him down at a hotel not far away. But Eric, you can't go there. We have to do this the right way," Bo said.

Eric obviously wasn't hearing that.

Wynston folded her arms; her expression said "I told you so." This was exactly why she didn't want to tell Eric.

"What hotel is it?" Eric asked. His voice was barely above a whisper.

Bo sighed. He knew his friend. Eric would try to kill Detective Mowry if he told where the asshole was.

Instead, he tried to divert Eric's attention. "Hughes, do you think you got any of the detective's DNA on you anywhere? Anything that might help us?" he asked.

Wynston thought for a moment. "I scratched him! Shouldn't that help?"

"Good enough, let's go to the station where we can do this by following the LAW," he stressed.

Eric just stood there seething.

Wynston and Eric got in the backseat of Bo's truck. Eric gently nudged Wynston's face upward so he could inspect the damage.

Eric swore to himself that he would get Mowry back.

"I know you," Wynston said softly as she looked up at Eric. "You're going to beat yourself up over this. But nothing was your fault."

Eric smiled grimly. She was right; he was beating himself up over it. What if she hadn't gotten away? What if that sick bastard had raped her?

He couldn't bear the thought. He turned away and gazed out the window.

Just then, Bo turned on his radio and asked about Detective Mowry's whereabouts. One of his deputies responded that the detective was still at La Hacienda Hotel. Bo then instructed the deputy to tail him until Bo gave further notice.

Eric and Bo's eyes met in the rearview mirror. Eric nodded his thanks, acknowledging what Bo had done for him. Bo nodded back. As soon as they got Wynston situated, he and Eric would pay Detective Mowry a little visit.

Once at the station, Bo had a female officer discreetly take Wynston into a room to collect DNA from her fingernails and body. The officer also took photographs of her injuries. When they were done, Wynston was asked to recount everything that happened.

While she was being taken care of, Bo and Eric talked about their plan of action.

"Look, I'm the sheriff here, and I believe in abiding by the law. I'm only doing this because it's you. Once we get to the hotel, I'm giving you five minutes to fuck him up, and then I'm coming in after you. Don't even think about trying to kill him," Bo said.

"Then you'd better make sure you get there in time," Eric replied.

Bo understood completely. If it had been Lacey who Mowry had hurt, he probably would've tried to kill the asshole, too.

A few hours later, Eric and Wynston were free to leave the station.

When they got back home, Wynston went straight upstairs and into the bathroom. She ran the hottest bubble bath she could stand. When she had peeled off her clothes, she looked in the mirror and gasped at her reflection.

The right side of her face had swollen where Detective Mowry had hit her. Wynston's lips were still slightly bruised as well. But they looked worse than they really were.

She sighed. She'd seen more violence in the last few months than she'd seen in her whole life. Wynston didn't know that people actually lived like this.

Eyeballing her hair, she combed it and turned her head to the left and then to the right. She decided that it definitely still looked cute.

Wynston eased herself into the bathtub. She was giving herself time to adjust to the hot water when Eric knocked on the door.

"Come in," she said quietly.

Reclining backward, Wynston watched as he opened the door and looked at her.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Eh," she replied, shrugging her shoulders.

Eric grabbed the stool and sat down beside the tub. He idly dragged his hands through the soap suds, his demeanor quiet and contemplative.

"I never got to ask you how things went over at Mrs. Browning's," he said.

Wynston smiled, remembering the pleasure she had felt earlier from the success of her cupcakes.

"They loved them. Aubrey went crazy over her special cupcake; and guess what. Mrs. Browning gave me a $100 tip," she said.

"What?!" Eric said. "Damn, I'm in the wrong business!"

"That's not all. She's going to place another order for a few cakes in a month. Some event she was talking about. I'm super stoked!"

"I'm proud of you, gorgeous. I knew you could do it. Have you thought about opening up a bakery?" he asked.

Wynston actually had. She wanted more than anything to bake full-time. But she didn't have the means. For some reason, she couldn't see herself baking in Baltimore, either.

"Yeah, I thought about it, but it's kind of a pipe dream," she said.

"We can make it happen...you've got the goods," Eric answered.

"I know. We'll see," Wynston said.

A sadness came over her. She didn't want to think about going back to Baltimore. Wynston had assimilated to life in South Carolina. All she needed was Terrence and things would be perfect.

She pushed the thought from her mind. A life here with Eric was also a pipe dream.

"You look better than you did earlier. Did you get enough rest?" Wynston asked.

"Yeah, I did. But at your expense," Eric answered somberly.

Before Wynston could say anything, he instructed her to sit up. "I'm going to bathe you," he explained. "I'm going to towel you dry; I'm going to lotion you from top to bottom, then I'm going to make love to you."

"Wow, I need to get beat down all the time if this is the result," Wynston quipped.

Eric didn't crack a smile.

"Too soon?" she asked.

"Too soon," he said.

Eric grabbed Wynston's bath sponge and gently washed her face. He took extreme care with her bruise.

"Stand up," he commanded.

Wynston's wet, glistening body immediately gave Eric a hard-on, but he tamped down the urge to fuck her hard and fast. This was about her.

He poured her sweet-smelling liquid soap onto the sponge and gently scrubbed every inch of her body.

Wynston blushed when he poured her feminine soap on a wash cloth and cleansed her privates. She felt like a little girl.

After Eric rinsed her and let the water out of the tub, he had a towel waiting for her. As promised, he dried her and had her lay on her stomach while he moisturized her from head to toe.

Wynston was in heaven. Eric massaged her body, working through the kinks and knots. He then had her roll onto her back so he could lotion her front.

His hands lingered on her full breasts as they became aroused under his care.

Eric began kissing a path down her body, making Wynston moan at the tender way he touched her.

While he continued to fondle her, Wynston reached up, unzipped his jeans and pulled out his thick, long cock.

It was already pulsating and veiny.

Wynston sat up and gently coaxed Eric upward so she could take his dick into her mouth.

She loved the way he tasted. He was always very clean and was rarely salty except for his pre-ejaculate. She ran her hands up his abs pushing his shirt out of the way. Taking her hint, Eric took it off.

Her hands roamed the length of his body as his hips flexed, pumping his member in and out of Wynston's mouth.

She allowed him to slip from her mouth and replaced her warm, wet tongue with her fist. She took each of his balls into her mouth while simultaneously jacking his shaft with her small hand.

Wynston stifled a giggle. Eric was moaning especially loudly tonight.

Work it, girl, she thought smugly.

She took his manhood into her mouth once more, deep-throating him. When Eric's cock began to swell and his breathing became feverish, Wynston pumped her head faster.

"Sweetheart," Eric exclaimed in an apology. Before he could say anymore, his seed spilled forth, filling Wynston's mouth to overflowing.

Eric stood over her, his dick continued to jump as he allowed every drop of his cum to leak out of him.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I'll make it up to you," Eric said.

Wynston kissed his belly and made her way up his body. "You don't have to apologize for anything that happens between us. I like giving you pleasure, Eric," she said earnestly.

Eric kissed her deeply and disrobed completely. Now that he was sated, he could focus on Wynston entirely. And that's exactly what he did.

This time, it was Eric who smiled smugly. He was sure the entire neighborhood could hear Wynston's cries of passion.

When they were satiated, Eric went to the kitchen and rounded up a small feast while Wynston picked a movie for them to watch in his room.

He made them club sandwiches and grabbed the chips, a couple bottles of juice and a bag of chocolate chip cookies. He was sure to include several pepperoncini on Wynston's plate; she ate them with everything.

The two watched "300" while they ate. After the food was gone, they dozed off, leaving the TV on.

They were exhausted. It had been a long, trying day.

***

Wynston awoke in the middle of the night to sharp cramping.

"Damn it," she mumbled.

She lay in Eric's bed for a moment, making a mental assessment of the damage. Her period was definitely on...and it was going to be a bad one.

Wynston got out of the bed and made sure she hadn't made a mess in Eric's bed. On her way out, she turned the TV and DVD player off and walked gingerly to her own bathroom.

She fished out her supply of Always, still hoping she had been mistaken.

No such luck.

When she finished up in the bathroom, Wynston got into her own bed. There was no way she was going to sleep with Eric like this. It was embarrassing.

She turned on the lamp and opened her nightstand drawer and took out the brown, paper bag. She had gotten a few months' supply of birth control pills before coming to South Carolina. But she hadn't taken any of them.

She hadn't pushed the issue with Eric because she didn't need to...well, except for the obvious reasons of protection from STDs, but that ship had long sailed.

Wynston admitted to herself that it had been extremely irresponsible of her not to insist that Eric at least wear a condom.

As for asking him to wear one to prevent a pregnancy...she now knew with a certainty that it wasn't necessary.

Her OB/GYN had told her she couldn't have any more children; and the fact that she had gotten her period proved that.

Downtrodden, Wynston turned off the lamp and drifted to sleep.

***

She awoke again to more cramps. She felt the familiar heaviness in her lower abdominal area and lower back.

Rocking back and forth, Wynston choked back tears.

She hated her periods with a passion; and she was freezing. But she knew she just had to make it through the first night; then things would get better.

Just when she thought things couldn't get any worse, she heard Eric come into the room.

"What are you doing in here?" he asked.

"Nothing," Wynston mumbled. "I just...please, just let me sleep here tonight. I'm okay."

Of course Eric wasn't doing anything of the sort. "What's the matter? Are you sick?"

Silence.

"Wynston, I can't help if you don't talk to me. What's the matter?" he asked.

"Eric, please. I just need to sleep in here," she moaned. Her voice was muffled because she was hidden under a mound of covers.

He was losing his patience.

Damn, but she could be stubborn. Wynston made him want to strangle her sometimes. He just wanted to wrap his hands around her neck and...

"Okay, fine. I'll sleep in here, then," he said.

"ERIC!!! It's my period, okay? I'm embarrassed. Just please let me be miserable in peace!" Wynston whined. She resumed rocking back and forth.

Eric left the room, making Wynston cry. She hadn't really wanted him to leave her. She had wanted him to care enough to stay.

"Damn bastard," she said into the dark room.

A few minutes later, Eric returned. She felt him pull the covers back from her body.

"Sit up," he said quietly.

She silently obeyed. He hadn't left her after all!

Eric handed her two Tylenol and a glass of water. When Wynston had swallowed the capsules, he handed her a cup of hot tea.

She was ashamed. "I'm sorry for calling you a damn bastard," she whispered.

Eric raised his brow. "When did you call me a bastard?"

"A few minutes ago when I thought you'd left me."

"But didn't you ask me to leave?" Eric asked.

"Well yeah, but...you weren't supposed to," she replied.

Eric just shook his head. "Women," he muttered.

When Wynston had drunk most of her tea, he got into bed with her and massaged her lower back. He manipulated her aching muscles for a long time, too.

Under the circumstances, Wynston was in heaven.

Before she knew it, she had drifted off into a comfortable slumber.

***

It was the morning after Detective Mowry had approached Wynston. Now, he ran around his hotel room collecting his belongings. He had to get the fuck out of there before anyone came looking for him.

He shouldn't have touched Wynston. His intention had only been to watch her the way he normally did; but when he'd seen that she was alone for once, he had acted on impulse.

His dick had immediately gotten hard just from being near her. And her scent...it tormented him. He hadn't meant to lose control that way.

A subtle knock on the door made him pause. He drew his gun out of its holster and walked quietly to the window. Peeking out of the blinds, he saw that it was Mike Torres.

Detective Mowry wrenched open the door, fighting to control is anger. "What the hell are you doing here?!" he groused. "We weren't supposed to meet until later!"

Mike pushed past the detective and walked into the room. Mowry hated this Torres just as much as he hated Eric. Mike was usually unkempt and wasn't pretty like that asshole Eric or Rob for that matter. But the resemblance was definitely there.