Seven Days In Cell Block 7

Chapter Two-2

Although she was determined to set things right, that would require she return to the courtroom that afternoon and do the very thing she failed to do that morning. But despite her arguments and explanations in her favor, Munson insisted she sit this one out.

“It’s got to be stress, Olivia. I’m sorry that I put too much emphasis on you, that was my mistake.”

“Oh, but it was not a mistake! I have this handled. I swear I do. I stupidly took a sleeping pill last night…”

“Olivia, give it up,” he rode right over her objections. “Bob will do fine this afternoon. We’ll see how we are at the end of the day and talk more in the morning.”

***

Olivia sat on a stool in her favorite bar sipping rum and coke—like a throw back to college. Regardless, the drink was comforting and just what she needed.

“Hey there, Red, what’s up?”

“Tony?” she turned, with lips pursed and an exaggerated sigh.

“Yeah, I know, I’m probably the last person you want to see right now.”

“Not the last, but if I had my choice…” she stopped and took another sip of her drink.

“If you had your choice, you’d what?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” She smiled tersely. She wasn’t sure she wanted him to stay or leave, but it appeared that he was bound to stay when he sat down on the stool beside her and ordered his usual Bourbon and soda.

“So, how did things go today?”

“Oh don’t be coy,” she snapped. “You were there. You must have seen the unraveling.”

“Unraveling…” he raised his brow, “that’s one way of putting it.”

“How about we just table this whole conversation. I certainly don’t want to rehash those miserable two hours.”

Tony fiddled with his napkin and drink, appearing content to let the silence close in around them, even if it wouldn’t last a minute.

“You know, Liv, there’s lots of talk…” he finally broke the utter quiet.

“Talk, you mean gossip?”

“I suppose. Word is, well…” Initially, he was careful to choose his words; but he ended being predictably blunt. “Word is you’re losing it.”

“Really!” She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She shook her head despairingly, and came back with a glib, “I’m perfectly all right, Tony.”

“Yeah, you usually pull it together when things get tough. But you look distracted to me, unsettled. Something troubling you? I mean something more than the usual nerves and stress?”

“I said, I’m perfectly all right.”

“Yes, you did. But you weren’t perfectly all right this morning in court. The Olivia Bennington who showed up was not the Olivia Bennington I know and love.”

“Are you trying to sweet talk me?”

“I’m concerned, Liv. You’re troubled about something. That’s obvious. Knowing how you hold things in, I thought you might need someone willing to listen… someone impartial.”

“Geez, Tony. You’re making entirely too much of one bad day.”

He shook his head, exasperated. “And you’re not getting it, Liv. You f****d up royally. We both know Munson. The man doesn’t give very often, in fact, he’s downright stingy. He gave you the sun the moon and the stars with the Sanchez case, and you just threw it all away.”

“It wasn’t as if I intended to.”

“Then how about a reasonable explanation?”

“I took a sleeping pill.”

“You? Sleeping pills? You might get that one by your co-workers, but you don’t get that one by me.”

“Yeah, well. I did this time, and it was obviously the biggest mistake I’ve ever made.”

He looked at her suspiciously.

“What? You think I’m lying?”

He shook his head, befuddled. “I’m not sure what’s going on with you.”

“Oh, she’s not predictable anymore,” she sassed.

“Well, what is predicable is your boss. You’ll be on a short leash from here on out. He doesn’t suffer blows to his prosecution like this one easily. I shouldn’t have to tell you that.”

“You don’t have to tell me anything… you don’t have to say another word. I know what a miserable mess I made of today, and I’m the only one who’s going to set it right—which I doubt I’ll have a chance to do. So if you want to know how I’m really doing, Tony, I feel like s**t. I just as soon be left alone.”

For several extraordinary minutes the two sat side by side nursing their drinks like strangers, each lost in the world of their own thoughts. To the casual observer it would look as if they’d never met, never exchanged a word, but on some subconscious level operating outside visible behaviors another form of communication was taking place. The flames of their s****l desire were beginning to burn where primal needs meet the path of least resistance.

It took no more than a stray hand brushing against his side for the two to turn on their stools and allow their eyes to meet. She looked down bashfully, aware that he could feel the thumping in her chest and the pulse of her crotch and the heat of her body.

She glanced back to his soulful eyes. “Doing anything in particular tonight?” she asked. A faint blush rose on her cheek, accompanied by an alluring smile.

“Just drinking with you,” he replied.

“Then maybe…” For a woman who was brilliant in the art of communication, who had earned her accolades and a position of power, she never liked to talk about the specifics of her personal needs. Tony had been good for her because he didn’t require that she say a word. With a coy smile and longing eyes, she finally pulled off her stool, and grabbing his hand, drew him with her to the door and into the cool clear night.

Tony hailed a taxi and gave the driver her address.

The silence engulfing these tenuous minutes lasted only until the two moved through the apartment house door, up the stairs and into the sanctuary of Olivia’s home. The noise of their lips and their groping hands and melodious moans filled the hallway and grew more heated as they stripped away clothes on their way to her bed. Dropping into the down of her mattress, the feast of their senses continued—the taste of flesh, the smell of pheromones, the smack of skin against skin, and the uproar of desire this all ignited.

She lay atop of his body with his stiff erection impaling her steamy portal. Suddenly, his hand came down to smack her ass. “Oh, god!” she screamed, as if her dammed up desires had abruptly broken free. “Oh god, Tony, do that more!”

“Harder, you want it harder!” he goaded.

“Yes, I want it harder!”

He smacked her behind several times, with each smack harder than the last, until the pain and pleasure of the fiery sting oozed through her every pore and her body began to buzz. Her eroticism had returned like a welcome friend. She clenched inside with fierce spasms gripping her crotch, then ground her p***y against his groin, rubbing her swollen c******s against his hairy skin.

“Yes, yes, yes… Oh, God yes! yes! yes!” her cries continued.

The harder she ground against him, the harder his hand came down, the greater the sting. Finally, she twisted away, pulled off his c**k and threw herself against the mattress beside him. “It isn’t enough,” she announced, sighing in frustration.

“No?”

“Tony, please, you understand…you of all people understand.”

The fact that at moments like this, the hardboiled district attorney needed more than simple f*****g was something that Tony Blake understood. That there was something deeper at work here than pain and pleasure, he understood that too.

For several tense moments, they lay side by side in an apparent standoff. Then suddenly, Tony jumped from the bed, “Well then, get the f**k off the bed, b***h!” he snapped. “And you’d better present that f*****g behind to me, cause that’s my target.”

His abrupt shift in mood left her momentarily stunned. But seconds later, Olivia bounded from the mattress, then dove right back in on shoulders and knees with her naked ass high and still rosy from the s****l spanking.

“Didn’t think you’d forget,” he spat.

Already, he’d doubled his belt in his fist and was measuring his aim. Soon as she was settled, the flat end of the leather went down on her bottom for a blistering round of smacks that took the victim from a simple warm fanny to a scorched behind—and to the dark pleasure of s****l release denied her for far too long.

“Oh, yes yes yes…” her repeated refrain came from deep in her gut, where these elemental passions had smoldered and simmered and rumbled, waiting for some event like this to give them voice. Now the voice came in strong grinding orgasms that racked her to exhaustion, until the moment that Tony threw the belt to the floor and, climbing on the bed behind her, began to work his fingers into her nether whole.

“Oh, dear God!” she gasped.

“I sure ain’t stopping with your p***y, girl. No offense, but this is where I come.”

As if there was any doubt in Olivia’s mind. As if she actually cared that he went for control and power and her submission, which was what screwing ass meant in Olivia’s s****l life. Maybe the only time in her life when she gave up striving and grasping and the aggressive pursuit of her dreams were the moments she gave in to Tony Blake. For a split second she would wonder why she gave him up when he could give her this bliss—just for a split second of temporary insanity.

His long erection moved methodically inside the tight space, sending her deeper into the abyss of submission. She gave her power to him in order to be this small and surrendered, to let every worry and doubt and troublesome concern flee her thoughts for a few sweet moments of freedom. Her mind closed down while her body opened to receive the physical joy. And as long as it lasted, this was where she belonged and what she craved and the best way to heal what hurt. When he picked up speed, she urged him on. When he smacked her ass, she begged for more.

“Ooo, yes, yes,” she seethed beneath her breath, “Do it more…”

“More? You want more, Liv?”

He was only too willing to oblige with a harder, deeper f**k, while his hand came down steadily against her sore behind. At last he settled in for the finish, grabbing both aching cheeks and thrusting till his seed spilled inside her. Her orgasm reverberated through her body, setting off waves of pleasure that rebounded through her until she was finally too exhausted to continue.

Olivia was never more peaceful than after Tony used her ass—at least past history suggested that she’d have at least a few hours of pleasing reverie to savor. But her savoring moments were short-lived. This time, images from her recent assaults came back to her so quickly they left her stunned and nearly in tears.

Tony rested in her reading chair while recovering from his orgasm. Olivia remained ass high on the bed.

“You’re looking mighty pretty there, my dear,” he was the first to break the silence.

Hearing him speak, Olivia fell to her side and pulled up a blanket to cover her naked body. There was no smile, no playful glint in her green eyes as Tony would expect. Before her inner eyes, a horror flick played in grainy black and white—reflections in the window glass, the glint of an assailant’s knife, the icy chill of the cement stairwell—all of it seeped into her psyche, dancing on her pleasure with jackboots and the bitter truth. The images were fuzzy and hard to grasp, apt to vanish if she tried to inspect them carefully. Yet, always, always in the back of her mind, they were there to haunt the night, the day, and on this night even the best s*x.

Once again her mind was a whir of unknowns and creeping fear. Just as soon as it began to spin, she knew that she’d revived too soon.

“Do I look pretty now?” she said, trying to look coy and sexy as she pleaded for his answer.

“You always look pretty, Red… but…” He was oddly troubled and it showed.

“But what?”

He shrugged, trying his best for a jovial smile and, failing that, he managed a grim one. “I guess I’m wondering if the magic still works.”

“Oh, your s****l magic still works just fine,” she replied, managing to smile herself.

“All right then. That’s nice to know… but apparently I’m not the cure for your troubles I once was.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Aw, c’mon Liv, who knows you better than I do? Something’s rattling around inside you… I can see it in your face. It’s written all over you. The way I just screwed you, you should be wasted for the next two days and already you’re looking anxious.”

“My god, Tony, that’s getting a little too weird.”

“No, it’s not. I think you need more than a little rough s*x. How about a break, a few days off…”