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Let's Have Dinner	By : Deleted account Category: M through R > Pretty Little Liars Views: 6467 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Pretty Little Liars, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 8
- 9
Mid-December
“Toby Cavanaugh? Chief, they’re sure about this?” asked Detective Wilden.
“Yes, Wilden. I called the lab myself. The dried seminal fluid found on the shoulder of Jenna Marshall’s robe matches Toby Cavanaugh.”
“God, he’s fucking his own sister?”
“Step-sister—I don’t believe that they are related by blood.”
“Blood or not, that’s pretty fucked up. The autopsy report states that she had had sex recently but no DNA, traces of a lubricant and spermicide--used a condom. No bruising or other overt signs of force, so the sex seems consensual. Did Kahn have sex with her and Cavanaugh what—how does Cavanaugh’s semen transfer to Jenna Marshall’s robe?”
“Well, if he tried to force himself, why is the semen on her robe and nowhere else? He has some knowledge of how the system works—juvenile detention is like school for criminals innit, we put’em away to “rehabilitate” and they come out dirtier than when they went in. Maybe he cleans her up but forgets he touched her shoulder.”
“So Cavanaugh is jealous, waits for Kahn to leave, then Cavanaugh attempts rape and kills her?”
“He did try to kill her once before. He set their goddamn garage on fire while she was inside. There never seemed to be a motive then. Now the two of them tried to give us some cock and bull story later that some stranger set that fire, but that never felt true.”
“But why would the girl try to clear him? He has this history of arson, so why not set the whole house on fire after he’d killed her—you know, destroy the evidence?”
“Not all criminals are as logical as the quacks say. Some of ‘em are just plain crazy.”
“The motive just doesn’t seem to fit, Chief.
“I don’t know Wilden, just find the bastard so we can give the parents and this town some peace of mind. Let lawyers and quacks worry about motive.”
…
Veronica opened the door and found Detective Wilden.
“Mrs. Hastings, is Spencer home? We’d like to talk to her.”
“She’s a minor. You may question her here not at the station and while I am present,”
“Of course, Mrs. Hastings.”
“Very well. I will return in a moment with Spencer. You may wait on our porch until I return.”
“I couldn’t get a cup of coffee, could I?”
“I will be glad to fix a cup for you, when I return.” Veronica closed the door in Wilden’s face and went to Spencer’s bedroom.
“Spence, honey?”
“Yeah mom?”
“The police are here. Detective Wilden wants to talk to you. Honey, he’s in charge of the Jenna Marshall murder investigation. Do you know why he would want to talk to you?”
“I have no idea. I don’t—didn’t really know Jenna all that well. We weren’t friends. Do I have to talk to him?”
“Well, no, but I don’t see why you shouldn’t. I think that refusing to speak to the police will cause them to cast their suspicions onto you unnecessarily. I’ll be with you the whole time. If there are any questions that you feel uncertain about answering, just look at me, okay?” Spencer nodded.
“Okay” Spencer’s phone buzzed. *Alibi Toby for Jenna’s death or your personal physician will be answering charges on the distribution of kiddie porn. Too bad for him, you’re still a minor Spence—A* There was a video attached—Spencer and Wren, together. It looks like our first night together. Alibi Toby? What could Toby have to do with Jenna’s death? He’s in Bucks County. Why does ‘A’ want to force me to protect Toby? “I’ll be right down mom, let me just go to the bathroom first.” Veronica returned downstairs and invited Wilden and the uniformed officer inside. They sat in the living room to wait for Spencer.
Spencer stood in her bathroom, rinsing the vomit from her mouth. God, a video? That video getting out would be bad, punishing Wren for something that I wanted, but framing him for distributing child pornography, that would ruin him—how did ‘A’ even make this—I made sure that every damn window was blocked. I was so careful. The angle of the video—looks like the top of his dresser. There’s nothing there but—his phone. He docks his smart phone there. ‘A’ hacked his phone. She washed her hands and walked down stairs.
“Spencer, I have some questions about your boyfriend, Toby Cavanaugh.”
“Okay.”
“Could you tell me about the last time that you saw Toby?”
“It was the night that Jenna died. I mean, I didn’t know that she died that night but I now know that it was the night she died. I met him at the overlook around 10pm and left just after dawn.”
“His parents told us that he had left town just after Halloween.”
“Yes, he did, he came back that night to see me.”
“I see. And do you know where he is now?”
“No, I haven’t heard from him.”
“Very well. Spencer, Mrs. Hastings, thank you for your time. We’ll be in touch.”
…
Monday at the hospital a nurse handed him a note. “A pretty brunette left this for you, Doctor.”
Text me the time you will be leaving from work. I’ll be waiting for you. You said that you would do anything to help me, please do this for me. When you get home, grab me and bend me over. Push up my skirt and rip off my underwear. Force me. I’ll explain everything later, please don’t ask.
Spencer
What the hell? God knows I’ll rip her pants off any day, but force myself on her, no. I’d do anything for her, but I can’t do that. If she wanted to do something new, she’d just say so. She had made plans to hang out with her friends after student council and hockey practice. What the hell happened? She had started to leave things at my place beyond a toothbrush. She stayed through the night most nights now. Things were fine when she left last night. She seemed relaxed. School was fine, she had relaxed about UPenn and as far as I know, no family issues. Melissa was in Philadelphia, Peter Hastings was on some business trip. Garret’s death seemed to have kept this ‘A’ person happy enough to leave Spencer alone. Jenna Marshall’s death was weeks ago—her death hadn’t seemed to disturb Spencer any more than the tragic death of a schoolmate would bother anyone. What the hell’s put the wind up? Wren pulled out his phone, texted Spencer, and returned to work.
…
Spencer paced in Wren’s apartment. She was wearing heels and a tight pencil skirt. She had thought about running to the mall to buy a garter belt and thigh highs, but she didn’t have the time. She settled for sheer stockings that she already had at home. She imagined the sound of the nylon stockings and cotton underwear tearing just before Wren entered her. She imagined the feeling of being pressed into the table and pounded into over and over again. Where is he? It only takes ten minutes for him to walk from the hospital to his apartment building. He’s twenty minutes late. Probably some patient. I’ll just text and ask him how long he’ll be.
Wren had stopped in the neighborhood pharmacy to buy lube and condoms. He was sitting in the coffee shop now. How am I aroused thinking about forcing Spencer, thinking of bending her over a table and fucking her as hard as I can? What kind of a man does that? Am I really even considering doing this? Wren checked his incoming text. *Are you on your way? If not, how long will you be? * No way in hell am I forcing her. I’ll rip her clothes off sure, but she has say yes before anything else. Safe word, there has to be a safe word. *I’m on my way*
Spencer opened the door while Wren was climbing the last flight of stairs. She locked the door behind him and waited. Wren placed the bag on the kitchen counter before turning to speak.
“I don’t know how far you want me to take this. I’m conflicted about forcing you to do anything. We need a safe word.”
“Fine, apples. Can we fuck now?”
“Blow me.”
“No.” They laughed. He walked towards her and pulled her close. “Thank god. You had me really worried.” He pulled away and looked into her eyes. “Are you certain this is what you want?”
“Yes. I need you to be rough today. I want you to take control. I don’t want you to ask me, I want you to take me. Will you fuck me now?”
Wren stepped closer to Spencer, placing his palm on her breast and squeezing. Using the hand on her breast, he pinned her to the closed door. Spencer leaned forward to kiss him, but he put his finger on her mouth to stop her. She opened her mouth and took his finger inside, swirling her tongue around as she sucked. Wren stared, captivated by her mouth, before he pulled his finger out. He replaced his finger with his mouth. He moved his hands to her waist, pulling her blouse out of her skirt. She started to move away from the door to pull the blouse off, but he pressed her back into the door forcefully, holding her in place with his body. He ran his hands over her bra cups, slipping his cold fingers between the cups and her skin. He left her nipples and pulled a cup down before taking the breast in his mouth, teasing the nipple with his teeth through the wet fabric of her blouse. Once her nipple was visible, poking the wet patch, he moved to her skirt, tugging it up a little and brushing the inside of her thigh. “I’m going to write my name on your pussy.” She moved her arms to pull her skirt up more, but Wren took her wrists and pinned them above her. Holding her wrists with his left hand, he used his right to cup her through her stockings. He used his fingers to rub her, probing her as he drew the letters of his full name, and bit her nipple. He slipped his fingers under the elastic of her underwear and stockings. His touch was gentle as he stroked her. He ground the heel of his hand into her, pausing to kiss her occasionally and press her back into the door when she wiggled too much. He used a single finger to enter her, slipping into her easily and curling his finger against her wall. He slipped out and stroked between her parted lips, using her wetness to lubricate his quick strokes.
He pulled away from her vulva and pulled up her blouse to bare her breast. He sucked the hard nipple and bit her breast and pulled hard, leaving a ring of teeth marks. He moved up to her neck, letting her blouse fall. The blouse remained gathered and draped above her breast, leaving her nipple and stomach exposed. He kissed her neck gently, waiting for her to stop him before sucking the skin and leaving teeth marks.
I wonder whether she’ll be pissed about the love bite. He sucked on his fingers before returning to stroke her. She came quickly, writhing against him as he held her in place. He pulled away and let the elastic snap back. He picked her up, throwing her over his shoulder and placed her in front of the sofa. He left her there and she sank into the sofa. He walked to the kitchen counter, took out a condom and the lube. He stood in front her, pulled her to stand. He spun her around quickly, wrapped one arm around her waist and one hand palmed her bare breast and pulled her tight to his body. She could feel his erection pressing through their clothes into her butt crack.
“I’m gonna fuck you so hard you can’t walk tomorrow,” he whispered into her ear.
He walked them to the sofa and forced his knee into the back of her leg, causing her to kneel on the sofa. He pushed his pants and boxers down, pulled on the condom and added lube. He pushed her skirt up, used a knee to force her legs wider, pulled her blouse over her head, and ripped the stockings. He added lube to a finger, pulled the underwear to the side and slipped his finger in. He pumped in and out fast a few times. He pulled the butt of her cotton underwear, pulling the wet fabric against her vulva, parting her lips and rubbing her clitoris. She wiggled into the contact. He yanked the fabric up, pulling her ass into the air and pushing her shoulders to the back of the sofa. He tore the underwear open, leaving the tattered remains in place. He held his penis between her thighs and moved it between her lips, teasing. He watched her muscles moving beneath the bunched skirt and last bit of bra. She pushed into him, trying to capture him. The bra will have to wait for later. He continued to move against her lips and held her steady. “Wren—inside—please—I’m gonna—oh!” She groaned and writhed as the sudden orgasm hit her. He moved his penis between her lips until she finished her orgasm.
He grabbed her hips and entered her quickly. One single motion and his balls were touching her. She gasped and whimpered. He pulled out completely and entered again, faster. He reached for the bare breast and her opposite hip to hold steady as he pounded into her. She panted and gasped, the torn fabric swinging against her thighs as he hammered her. She began to move to meet his thrusts. He moved his hand to her vulva, massaging it as he increased his speed. She came, shouting yes, yes, yes. He rammed through the orgasm, loving the mixture of her moans and the wet slap of each thrust. After her orgasm, he readjusted his hands, slipping one hand between her breast and the cup of her bra. He continued to use his other hand to hold her hip. He found the neglected breast and twisted the nipple as hard as he dared. He unhooked her bra and let it fall away a little. He paused his thrusting to push her into the back of the sofa so her head hung over the side and parted her legs wider. He repositioned himself behind her and entered again. He palmed her breast and dug his nails in, feeling her breast squeezed between his fingers as he continued fucking her, pounding into her cervix. He started slipping out, so he pushed down on her hips and pulled her legs apart further to lower her to optimal height. He entered her again, leaned over her back, pulling her hair to bring her ear closer to his mouth and whispered to her,
“You’re going to say my name this time.” He kissed her neck and back before returning to hold her hips against the sofa. He slipped his hand between the tattered underwear and her vulva, knuckles against the sofa. He played with her and started pounding again, pausing before each thrust to fondle her. Her lips were thick. With each quick powerful thrust her legs bounced, kicking her heels up to hit Wren as he knelt behind her. The sensation distracted from the rhythm, so he began to grind into her instead until he finished pulling her heels off her feet. He began thrusting again, without stopping, slamming her vulva into his waiting fingers. He changed his angle, slamming up into her with each thrust, rubbing her vulva against his hand with each upward stroke. “Wren—Wren,” she panted, making her pleasured groans before her final shout, “WREN!” and gasp.
Her last gasp pushed him over the edge and he came, falling on to her back. They rested their before Wren was able to stand up and pull out. He stepped out of the pile of pants and boxers. He pulled off the used condom and walked to the kitchen trash. He looked back at Spencer, and smiled, a little embarrassed and a little proud that he had left her so disheveled. Her bra was hanging off her forearms, her hair a little messy, as she leaned over the back of the sofa and panted, trying to catch her breath. He wanted to run over and kiss her, but was a little wary. He poured two glasses of water. She still hadn’t said anything.
He walked back to her, handing her the glass. She took quick sips, like a marathon runner.
“I take it back. Thighs like that, you definitely rowed at Oxford. Forgive me for ever doubting.” They laughed. He picked her up, carrying her bridal style to the bedroom while talking.
“One never lies about rowing for Oxford. I was in a lightweight four.” He pulled the bedclothes back and placed her tenderly on the bed. He proceeded to undress her, tucking her now bare legs and cold feet into the sheets.
“That was, damn. I think the proper phrase is ‘you could fuck for England’” Wren laughed.
“Thank you.” He pulled his shirt over his head and climbed into bed next to her. She snuggled close and he put his arm around her, pulling her closer, wrapping her onto his chest. “Will you stay?”
“Is it okay if I do?”
“More than okay, I get to hold you like this all night.”
“Too tired for another round?”
“I think I’ll find a way.” He stroked her hair. “May I ask—what changed your plans for the evening?”
Crap, right, the reason for the amazing sex.
“There has to be a reason for suggesting amazing sex?”
“Spencer,” Wren groaned, “you already admitted as much.” Spencer listened to his heartbeat.
“The police came to see me. They’re looking for Toby.”
“Now? Aren’t they busy enough with the Jenna Marshall murder? What do the cops want with Toby?”
“They think Toby had something to do with her death.”
“I thought he left Rosewood.”
“As far as I know, he did. I figured he went back to Bucks County. He had a job there for a while.”
“So what makes them think it was Toby? I thought they arrested Noel Kahn.”
“My mom said that they had to let Noel go, even with the witness statement that placed him at her house at the time of death. She heard from one of the court officers that the police found DNA on Jenna’s robe from someone other than Noel. She didn’t know if it was Toby’s but she said that she thought that Toby’s DNA would still be on file from his previous arrests. She said that the forensic people would have run every sample found against Jenna’s DNA and against some big database called CODIS.”
“So if the cops are looking for Toby, you think that it was his DNA found on her robe?” Spencer nodded. Wren rubbed her back. “Well, Toby and Jenna lived in the same house, it will be hard to convince a jury about when the DNA transferred to the robe. It could have been before he left.” Rosewood must have the highest per capita murder rate in the whole bloody country. How I am going to protect Spencer?
“You’re right, of course you’re right. There’s no way Toby had anything to do with Jenna’s death. I wish I had thought of that. Though not too much, because the sex was mind-blowing.” They laughed.
“Spencer, this question may seem callous. I know that Toby is important to you, but is that really the only thing that has upset you?”
“You don’t believe me?”
“I believe that something significant happened.”
“My boyfriend being accused of murder isn’t significant enough for you?”
“Spencer, that isn’t what I meant. Of course you care about him—”
“I love him!” I love you. Does he? Do you love him from my bed? How can you love a boy that runs away? thought Wren.
“I know, but I also know that you’re the strongest person I know; strong enough to endure police suspicions of Toby. There is something or someone else that you’re afraid of, isn’t there?”
“No,” said Spencer, defiantly, walking into the bathroom and slamming the door. The sound of the shower came through the door. Wren knocked softly on the door.
“Spencer, talk to me. You’re not alone.” Spencer opened the door, took his hand and pulled him into the shower. “Shit it’s freezing!” Wren pulled her close, out of the cold stream of water and changed places with her before he changed the temperature. She didn’t register the temperature change as the hot water fell on them. He waited for her to speak.
“They’re watching us.”
“Who?”
“A’—whoever that is. I got a text just before Wilden interviewed me. ‘A’ wanted me to alibi Toby for Jenna’s death or they would release a video of us together and frame you for distribution of child pornography because I’m seventeen.”
“What? What video? There is no video.”
“There is, I’ve seen it—us, in your bed, I—I think it’s of our first night together.”
“Spencer, I had nothing to do with—I have no idea how this happened—” Spencer placed her finger on his lips.
“I know. I think ‘A’ hacked your phone. It looks like the video was taken from where you dock your phone on the dresser.”
“Christ—so you gave Toby a false alibi?”
“Yes. If the cops figure it out, there’s nothing they can really do; I didn’t commit perjury. And I had to protect you.” Wren kissed her, trying to communicate his love and gratitude through his lips. They broke the kiss when they needed air and stood holding each other with their foreheads touching.
“You know, we’ve never done it in the shower.”
“You’re like the Energizer Bunny of sex. You just keep going and going.”
“It must be frustrating for you,” teased Spencer.
“Very frustrating, but I love to try to satisfy you. I hate to change topic, but Christ, a video and blackmail—aren’t you curious as to why ‘A’ would want Toby to have an alibi for Jenna’s murder?” Spencer turned away, grabbed the shampoo and began to wash her hair.
“Let me, please.” Spencer dropped her hands. Wren massaged her scalp.
“Do you think that ‘A’ wants to protect Toby?” Spencer nodded.
“Do you think that this means that Toby is working with ‘A’?” Spencer turned back, burying her face in his shoulder.
“What else could it mean? I believed he loved me and it was all a lie!” she sobbed.
“Shh, everything’s going to be okay, but I need to rinse your hair before soap gets in your eyes or the hot water runs out.” Spencer let him tilt her head under the water and rinse the shampoo from her hair. They quickly finished washing and left the shower. “Uh, no towels, here this will keep you warm.” Wren pulled his plaid flannel robe around her, wrapping fabric to her wet body and tying the sash tightly before he dried himself a little using the only towel in the bathroom, a small hand towel. He began to dry himself, but she pulled his head to hers and kissed him deeply. She pressed herself into his body as she ran her hands over his back, weaving her fingers into his wet hair. He shivered a little and she opened the robe and pulled him against her, wrapping the robe around him too.
…
“She was lying.”
“I thought so—giving that delinquent an alibi for killing his sister—unbelievable,” said Wilden, shaking his head.
“I checked with Public Works: the road to the overlook was closed that week, that big storm knocked down a lot of trees and they left the overlook road ‘til last to clear.”
“Find out where Spencer Hastings really was that night. They weren’t at the overlook, but were they together? We need to know if she’s giving Cavanaugh the alibi or creating one for herself. My money’s still on Cavanaugh for this, but double check. Let’s get her phone records, find out if she’s in contact with Cavanaugh. Check on that BOLO. We still need to bring him in.”
- 8
- 9
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Let's Have Dinner