Port in a Storm

And now he was kissing up my neck, his breath hot against my ear. I arched into him, felt damp skin between us. His weight had me pinned to the bed, and I couldn't help but moan every time my womanhood rubbed against the sheets underneath.

"I thought you were still sensitive?" he whispered hoarsely when I moaned again, one strong hand slipping underneath my body and in between my legs. "Mmm...still dripping..."

"Dave..." I'd already come twice, first his fingers and then his tongue opening me up, making me gasp and mewl and shudder. He'd been holding out for too long. I felt his arousal against my back, hard and stiff. Reached a hand behind me to grab it, heard him growl.

"You tease..." He bit the skin of my neck, then soothed it with his tongue. "Wanted you like this all day... naked, underneath me, moaning and arching..."

"Need you." I twisted my head, caught his lips in a sloppy kiss. My hand stroked the head of his erection, felt it getting slick and slippery. Teeth bit my earlobe as I tried to muffle a groan in the pillow, pushing back against him, wanting to feel as much of him as possible.

He slipped off for a moment to roll on a condom, and I took the opportunity to turn onto my back, finally looking at his flushed, sweat-slick body. I crawled towards him like a cat edging towards a bowl of milk, and straddled his lap.

"Hey." He gasped, leaning back against the headboard, hands instinctively holding my waist.

"Hey." I responded, my hands grabbing his erection again. He bit his lip, jerking when a thumb traced over the head, then down the length of his shaft. I gripped him. Lined up. Sank down.

"Fuck..." He gasped, dropping his head back, eyes squeezing shut and then opening impossibly wide. I felt it, the first squeeze of muscle as I sank down, taking him in easily. Green eyes locked with mine and I was transfixed, hot desperate pleasure clawing at every muscle while I bit my lip harder and forced down, his hips jerking off the bed to meet me. A hand pressed to my shoulder, holding me down.

"Oh...god." Strong hands helped work me down. I didn't think I'd be able to last, not like that. Dave was flushed, his eyes dark and dazed, and I felt about the same. Totally out of control as he ran his hands up my body, exploring slowly and tweaking my nipples. I grabbed his shoulders, lifted my hips, and sank down again. He cried out in sudden hot delight. I groaned, claiming his lips.

Our mouths locked in a hard kiss, wet and sloppy and clumsy, teeth colliding, tongues dancing. My hands tightened on his shoulders again as I withdrew till the tip. I could see it on his flushed face bracing himself for the drop. I smiled wickedly, kissed harder, contracted my muscles around him and shifted my hips...

The yowl he let out when I dropped again was embarrassing to say the least. Before he knew it I was lifting again. He shivered, tensing...

"Ah!"

"Yes..." I hissed, starting to pull up again. "Take it like that."

"Please..." It was torture for him. He was the stronger one between us, all hard muscle and toned abs. If he wanted he could easily flip me over and ram it home. But there were moments like this when I could have my way, tease and torment him, and enjoy watching him become putty in my hands. It was incredible.

"I'm close," he gasped brokenly, trying his best to not lose control. He held my hips, trying to control it a little, but I wasn't easy.

"Good." My hips were moving faster now, finding a rhythm. I hid my face in the crook of his neck, my hands clutching the headboard tight. His hands were holding me, stroking my heaving body, grabbing my arse to guide me up and down. I felt him swell inside me, almost as close as I was.

"Yes," he panted.

"Fuck yes," I gasped back. "Yes. I'm..." I jerked. "I..." My hands clawed at the headboard as I felt myself inch closer to the edge, slamming down hard and fast. Dave's toes curled, his legs jerking, and I felt everything tighten, the pressure intensifying. "Dave...!"

"Vivienne..." He tugged me in closer, yanked me into a kiss. I kissed him back, both of us clawing at each other, mouths clashing. I jerked, whined, and that was it. Stars bursting behind my eyelids, everything hot and wet and squeezing. I sobbed my third orgasm of the night into his mouth while we both moved hard, my hips unstoppable.

He rolled us over with me still quivering, and pushed back in, his mouth finding mine and sucking me in. Our hands entwined as he curled around me and let go.

"Oh...!" His eyes closed, teeth clenched, hands slapping down on the bed. I clawed at the pillow, biting down on my lip, felt him jerking again and again, his knees clamped down on the mattress. "Vivienne...I..." he growled, his beautiful face contorted in pleasure. I eased him through it, carefully stroking him down when he collapsed, panting and dazed.

The air was thick with the smell of sex and sweat, gasps and harsh breathing interspersed with the silence of the night. I tried to move, but couldn't. My whole body seemed to ache. It was like the best workout of my life.

"Okay?" He asked hoarsely, still all tangled with me. "You went quite hard there..."

"Mmm," I answered. "You?"

"Yeah. I had buildup." He moved, and I winced as he slipped out carefully. He rolled on to his back, his chest heaving. I straightened my legs, and the well-used muscles protested in the best possible way. My hand was still clutching the pillow.

I turned my head, saw him unsheathing the condom. He looked amazing, sweaty and flushed, the look of utter satisfaction on his face. It made me happy to know that I was the reason behind that look.

"What?" He gasped, when he saw me staring. I shook my head, tried to drag my limp body close to him. He helped by moving closer, wrapping an arm around me.

"You look gorgeous." I kissed his chest, dark wet hair against my lips. Heard a small laugh.

"So do you." A kiss dropped on to my shoulder, moving damp hair out of the way. "You looked perfect today. No wonder I couldn't keep my hands to myself." He looked down at me, pecked my nose. "If you keep looking so perfect all the time, I'll be going around with a permanent tent in my pants."

"I'm far from perfect." My eyes drifted up his body, meeting his gaze. I reached a hand up to wipe sweat from his temple. "Michael McKay called me today," I said quietly. Dave quirked an eyebrow.

"What for?" he asked. I paused, hesitating. Dave knew everything, but I still felt uncomfortable talking to him about it. Dave understood my hesitation, pulled me in closer.

"Simon is launching a new hotel," I finally said. "He wants me to help with the marketing."

"What did you say?"

"Nothing. I didn't have time to talk today." I rolled on to my back, staring at the ceiling. The chandelier was switched off tonight, only a small table lamp illuminating the room. "I don't know what to do. I haven't seen Simon in years."

"Will it make you uncomfortable?" he asked quietly, one hand carding through my hair. I shrugged.

"Does...does it bother you that I used to sleep with him?" I asked, not wanting to say the words. It stung a little somewhere.

"No. It was ten years ago. You were 19." He lay on his back, hands folded under his head. "At 19, I was sleeping with others too."

"I'm sure they weren't 20 years older than you, married and having an affair."

He tilted his head towards me, a small, knowing smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "You still think about it?"

"Sometimes." I sighed heavily, pulling the sheets to cover myself. "I still don't know why I did it."

"You were young and naïve, probably infatuated with him." He turned, raised himself on an elbow. "Maybe a little in love with him."

"Love." A dry laugh escaped me at that. "The first guy I ever loved raped me and left me in a field to die." I looked at him, my heart aching at the thought. "I was 17."

Dave's eyes turned a little sad as he stared compassionately. I didn't speak about it always, but sometimes it slipped out, especially when emotions were high. Dave leaned in, tenderly kissed my forehead. I swallowed around the lump in my throat.

"The next guy I thought loved me gave me this." I raised my right hand, folding all the fingers except the deformed one. He slid his hand in mine, wrapping his fingers around my palm.

"Simon didn't hurt you," he mentioned softly. I shook my head.

"Never. We were together for only six months...if you can call that being together at all. It had been business, and it wasn't like I hadn't been reaping certain benefits from the arrangement."

"You were alone in the city, surviving on your presence of mind and resourcefulness. Anybody in your place would have done what you did."

"I helped him cheat. In return, I got money. And sex." It was that simple. There was never anything more between us. I turned my head, hid my face in Dave's chest. "If you hadn't come into my life, I'd never feel guilty about any of it."

"You feel guilty?" There was surprise in his voice. "Why?"

"Because you're a nice man. And I'm not fit for you."

"Vivienne, one of the reasons why I fell in love with you was your no-nonsense attitude towards life. You were raped, yes. You slept with your boss, yes. You were almost killed by the man you loved, yes. You couldn't change any of it. And you were so unapologetic about all the bad things you'd been through because none of it was your fault. Your attitude was like, 'take me as I am, or don't. I don't give a shit.' I loved that." He looked down at my face, his eyes still reflecting surprise. "So why do I make you feel guilty?"

I remained quiet, breathing gently against his chest. His arms pulled in closer around me.

"You know what?" he said. "I don't care who you slept with. The only thing that bothers me sometimes is when I think of that lunatic you were with..." His fists clenched against my back. "He broke you completely. The day I found you..." he paused, not wanting to say the words. "...you were bleeding from your nose, your hands, your kidney... It was like he hadn't spared any part of you..."

"You saved me. Literally." He had stepped in and made things easy for me, taken me to his parents' place because I needed a home, rather than just a house. Mum and dad had welcomed me in, taking action against that arsehole. When I reluctantly pressed charges, he'd been sentenced for 21 years for attempt to murder.

"I'll never forget that sight," his voice sounded angry. "If he'd tried to touch you again after that, I'm sure I'd have broken him into pieces." He sighed, his body relaxing. "I wish I could also do the same with the guy who ruined you at 17. How can someone do that to a girl?"

"It's okay. Let it be." I kissed his lips, smiling. "I cannot ever thank you and your parents enough for all that you did for me. You—"

The rest of the words were broken off by a kiss, his arms holding me close to his body. He felt warm and cosy, despite the icky feeling left behind by the sweat. Neither of us was in the mood for a shower then.

His phone rang, puncturing the silence. He never switched it off, and therefore, was always reachable. I saw him push himself up the bed, reach his hand out for the phone.

"Hi Donovan," he spoke, his voice turning sleepy. "No, I'm home. Why? Oh, is it? Fine, we'll meet his family tomorrow, decide a date. Has his pulse improved? No, we can't do that. It'll just waste time. I'll be there in the morning. We'll do something about it. Sure. Goodnight."

He put the phone back on the table, slipped back down on the mattress. "We might perform the surgery tomorrow," he said, pulling up the duvet. "His pulse is improving."

"He needs the surgery, right?" I asked. I usually knew about his patients. Over the last month or so, I'd heard a lot about this man with a benign brain tumour that needed surgery. He'd been in the hospital for a while, undergoing treatment.

"He does, but it doesn't guarantee anything. He'll still need to be under observation." He turned out the light. "I could be late."

"I'm used to it." I snuggled into his arms, drifting off. "I could be late as well. Dinner'll be in the fridge, though."

"Yes, mother." He chuckled. "I love you, Vivienne."

"Love you too," I mumbled lazily, falling asleep against the rhythm of his beating heart.

*

It was 9:30 when I reached office the next morning, well-slept and disgustingly well-shagged. I giggled to myself as I drove into the parking, flashes of the previous evening and night running through my head. Dave and I had showered together that morning, made breakfast together and eaten it while sharing kisses and cuddles, and then left home at the same time. I wasn't sure I'd get to see him that night, so the morning had been well-spent.

I wandered through the maze of cars, grumbling that the place where I usually parked my car was taken. I finally found an empty space, brought the car to a stop. Then I stepped out, locked the car.

The parking was huge, so I sped up, almost running towards the elevator. I was manoeuvring through the rows of cars when my eyes caught sight of a dark figure crouched against a pillar in the distance.

I stared, my brow scrunching into a frown. It seemed like a girl, in a grey tracksuit, face covered with the hood. Almost involuntarily, I made my way towards the person, even though I had no idea who it was or what I'd do.

The figure noticed me, tried to rise from the floor, probably in order to run away, but faltered, nearly falling over. I held an arm, found it to be a girl indeed.

"Are you okay?" I asked gently, moving closer. I felt the girl trembling slightly, her head hanging forward, like she was trying to hide her face. "Who are you? Do you work here?"

I wasn't like Dave who knew every person at his hospital by name. I could remember faces, names not so much.

"I'm fine." The girl wriggled her arm away, walked past me with trembling feet. The voice sounded familiar. I turned around, grabbing her arm again.

"Wait. Weren't you the one in the toilet yesterday?" I moved closer, bent low to look at her face that was hidden behind straight, blonde hair. She looked away, trying to free her arm.

"Let me go," she croaked, her voice shaky. I didn't oblige. I pulled her close, felt her trembling like a newborn kitten. I could see her face properly this time. She couldn't exactly hide a black eye, nor the rivulet of blood drying on the side of her face. It made my heart drop.

"Come with me," I put an arm around her. She flinched away.

"I...I've got work, Ms Robinson," she managed. "I...just...let me go..."

"I'm not letting you go like this." My voice was surprisingly stern. "You need first aid."

There were cars rolling into the parking. I looked around for an empty spot, somewhere I could talk to her but there was no privacy there.

"Come on." I held her cold hand, tried to lead her towards the elevator. She hesitated for a moment, then began to walk along with me. I held her while we rode upstairs.

"What's your name?" I asked her.

"Amy," she said in a small voice. "I'm a janitor here."

"Okay." My floor arrived and I led her out. She hesitated when she saw the crowded floor. "It's fine," I assured her. "No one will know."

I held her hand again, taking her to my office. Kristin greeted me, looked on surprised when she saw the girl with me.

"Kristin, I'm not seeing anyone in my office till the next hour or so, okay?" I instructed her. "Ask them to come back later. Oh, and send me an icepack, please?"

Kristin nodded. I took Amy in, shut the door, locked it.

"Sit." I pulled a chair out, made her sit. She accepted the bottle of water I offered her, took a few gulps, and returned it. Her hands were still trembling. I also noticed a couple of broken nails.

"Right." I looked about my office, searching for the small first aid kit that was always there. From a scraped elbow to a deep wound, I could treat all kinds of emergencies. Dave had taught me. "Here." I found it in a drawer, pulled it out.

Amy's face was hanging low. I checked to see if she was crying. She wasn't.

"You have to take your hood down," I told her. She didn't oblige. I sighed without meaning to. "There's no one here, okay?" I tried to assure her. "No one will know, I promise. Your wounds look bad, though."

Amy still didn't oblige. I didn't want to intrude but her wounds needed help, so I turned her chair towards me and gently pulled the hood down.

I flinched at the sight.

Her bruised eye was almost closed, red spider-webs of bloodvessels visible on the lid, dried blood surrounding it. A chunk of hair seemed ripped off from the back of her skull, and there was also a prominent bulge.

I fished out a tissue, began to wipe away the blood. She flinched, tried to move away.

"Please." I held the arm of the chair. "Just a moment."

I wiped off the dried blood from the side of her face, moving her hair out of her eye. Then I put a Band-Aid on the wound, tilted her chin up to see what else needed help. She wouldn't catch my eye. She was still sitting there dazed, though the trembling had stopped.

"Who is it?" I asked gently. She didn't reply. I ran a hand through my hair, feeling frustrated and wishing she didn't remind me so much of myself. "Is it your family?" I asked.

She shook her head. "Your boyfriend then?" I asked. She remained still at first, then nodded hesitantly, like she didn't want to admit it. I pulled a chair and sat next to her.

"Talk to me," I said, touching a knee.

"It was an accident."

"It wasn't." I touched the Band-Aid over the cut beside her eye. "This wasn't a fist. What did he hit you with?"

"You don't have to know," she mumbled.

"I do. What was it?"

Amy took a deep breath, shuddered it out. "Umm..." I put an arm around her shoulders. "Beer bottle. He..." She sucked in another breath, wet with tears. "It was an accident."

"He hit you with a bottle."

"Yeah." She started to heave, and I held her tighter. "It's fine. We had sex and...and it was all okay."

"After he hit you with the bottle?" I said, to which she only shrugged. "Amy, did..." I swallowed hard, closing my eyes to process the idea. It didn't make it any easier. "Did he rape you?"

"I didn't say no."

"After he hit you with a bottle." I turned her face towards me. It still looked just as bad. "Jesus," I breathed. Amy started to sob.

"I didn't know where else to go..." she croaked brokenly. I pulled her in closer. Arms wrapped around my shoulders, clinging on, and I hugged back, felt her shiver, then start to shudder, trembling apart in my arms. I tried to hold her together, stroked blonde hair that still had a little dried blood in it.

There was a knock on the door. Amy jerked, moved away, quickly reaching for her hood again. I opened the door just a bit, gratefully accepted the icepack a housekeeping staff handed me. When I turned back after closing the door, Amy was facing the wall.

"Look at me." I went in front of her, held her face up. She flinched when I held the icepack against the black eye. "How old are you, Amy?"

"Twenty-one."

"How long you've been working here?"

"Three months." She tried to pull away again.

"Hold this against your eye," I told her. She obliged reluctantly, a hand reaching up to hold the chilly object. I moved hair out of her face and stared.

That was me, five years ago. Bruised and shaken and afraid. A little ashamed too. It was like seeing a part of my past in the girl sitting in front of me.

"I must go," she said. I knew she was trying to run away, not let anyone know what was happening in her life.

"Do you live with him?" I asked. She nodded. "Do you have anywhere else to go?"

"I have to go back," she insisted, her voice starting to tremble again. "He...if he..."

"He'll try to hurt you if you go away?" I tilted my head to a side, crossing my arms. She didn't reply, just sat there trembling, holding the icepack against her eye. I knew it wasn't the first time. She'd been crying in the restroom the day before, so it must have been going on for a while.