by Amy Rose
I try to ignore his presence behind me, pulling the seat back into position. I make myself comfortable and set myself the task of cleansing, toning and moisturizing, hoping that this methodical process will be enough to calm myself down. It works great. When I have finished rubbing the cream in, my breathing has returned to a normal rhythm.
I stand up and turn to face Elliot and discover that he is looking directly at me.
“You are so beautiful”
Not knowing what to say, I lower my head to look at the floor, continuing to do so as I wander out of the room, until I am standing beside the bed. I plunk myself down on the edge. I sit here, waiting for him to follow, which he does, almost immediately.
He stands before me, staying quiet for a moment. When I don’t look up at him, he takes a seat beside me reaching for my hand and squeezing it gently once it is in his grasp.
“Are you okay, Angie?”
I nod, still not meeting his gaze. I am determined not to let him see how much I wanted him. If I can just control the urges I’ll be fine, and yet with him sitting so close, the feel of his hand in my own, it is almost impossible. My thoughts are not helping. The main one involves me pouncing on him and kissing him with everything I have.
We sit here, on the edge of the king-sized bed, holding hands, for a couple of minutes. Comfortable in the silence surrounding us. Knowing that we can’t keep this up for too much longer. We need a distraction. My mouth opens and I blurt out what I know will get a reaction.
“I’m getting tired now Elliot. I’m going to get changed and try to get some sleep. You can lie here with me if you want to?”
I look up as I voice my last word and see the shocked look on his face. I’m sure in this moment that he will say no and excuse himself. Wonder if I am serious. After all, who asks someone to lie down with them when they are in their pajamas without wanting to take things to the next level?
Instead he nods, sliding off the bed and walking slowly towards the chest of drawers on the other side of the room, sitting next to the window. Opening the bottom drawer, he pulls out a pair of pajamas. Seeing my eyebrows raised in question he laughs.
“I sleep here sometimes when the main house is having renovations,” he states as fact.
I stand up and grasp my nightgown from under the pillow and pad into the bathroom. Closing the door behind me and then locking it, I quickly undress and slip into my satin shift. I am so thankful that I packed my one nice item of sleepwear.
I brush my teeth twice and rinse my mouth thoroughly. I then spray a small amount of perfume into the air and I walk into it so it wouldn’t be overpowering. I brush my hair, allowing it to settle over my shoulders. Looking at myself in the mirror, I can do this, I am completely covered. I look nice, we are just going to talk for a little while, then he will either stay or leave and I will go to sleep.
Nothing is going to happen tonight. I’m not going to let it. I am sure Elliot will feel the same, as he has the same thoughts on waiting for marriage as I did. Before I open the door I call out.
“Are you decent?”
I await his reply which comes quickly: “Sure am.”
I open the door and walk out, tugging the covers down before slipping into the bed and pulling up the sheets around myself. Elliot comes out of the corner of the room, having stayed beside the chest of drawers when he had changed. He lays down beside me, on top of the covers. He is wearing white cotton pajama pants and his beautiful torso is covered in a slightly fitted grey t-shirt. His triceps and biceps are beautifully muscular. Something that I hadn’t noticed before now. After all he generally wears long-sleeved business shirts or sweaters. Nothing so fitted.
I feel a breath catch in my throat and I want so badly to reach out and touch him. Surely just one squeeze of those muscles would be okay, wouldn’t it? As he settles himself onto the bed, I notice him pick up a blanket from beside the bed. He then covers himself with it and lays his head down on the pillow. He rolls onto his side, positioning himself to look at me.
“Comfy?” He asks
I roll onto my side to look at his beautiful face. “I sure am. How about you?”
He smiles at me before replying. “Yes baby. I am”
His smile is heartbreakingly beautiful.
Looking into his eyes is like looking at the ocean, so much depth there to be stared into. I wonder what will be found in the darkest, deepest depths of his soul and hope very much that I will one day find out. I want to know everything there is to know about this man. What it is that drives him? What makes him tick? What is his favorite memory from his childhood? What is his greatest dream? And of course on a more selfish level, what does he really think of me?
I’m not in a position to ask him any of these questions as yet. We have to take things slow. The feelings I already have for Mr. Elliot Sands scare me. I didn’t want to fall for him. I need to protect my heart, my body, all of me. I can’t let someone in again. Not after Dylan and yet, here I was, lying next to this man, staring into his eyes, and I knew that I didn’t want to leave tomorrow. I also know that I will be counting the days until I see him again.
Another darker thought crosses my mind, and by darker thought, I mean my ex. I don’t remember ever feeling this way about Dylan. I mean, I loved him. We were together for a long time, but I never felt the electrical current when he touched me. Nor breathless after a kiss and certainly not nervous lying next to him in a bed. I never even considered going all the way with him. I was comfortable with him for a long time, and then that comfort changed to discomfort. Not wanting to be around him at all, and in the end, fear.
I wasn’t a nun, so to speak, we had tried a few things after we had gotten engaged. I felt pressure from him after we reached that next level of our relationship. He wanted me to give him something other than kissing and holding hands. The first time we tried oral he was gentle. No pressure whatsoever, he let me take my time. Thankful that I was taking things to the next step, the next time I noticed him changing. He put his hands on my head and tried to push me further. I gagged, he apologized and we stopped. But he asked for me to try again an hour later, and then again the next day. He wanted it more often. He would take it every minute of every day if he could. And when I refused him, he would get mad. One day after a shower he forced me. I pushed so hard against his legs and punched at his arms to get him to release my head, he was furious that I didn’t want to pleasure him.
That’s when I noticed the change. He started to get violent. Coming home from work angry and taking it out on me. It started with a slap. He apologized, dropping to his knees, begging me for forgiveness. But it was only a couple of weeks later that he did it again. Then it was only a couple of days after that. We only lived together for three months and that was enough to know that it was never going to work.
I hear a voice coming from a distance at first and then, clearing my head, I realize it is Elliot.
“Hey Angie. You in there?” He waves a hand in front of my face
“Ah, yeah. Sorry about that. I was just thinking about what’s waiting for me back at work this week.”
He seems to accept this as fact. I feel bad about lying to him like that but I couldn’t very well tell him that while I was lying next to him, I was thinking about my ex, now could I?
“Yeah, the next two weeks are going to be hell,” Elliot replies.
“Why’s that?” I ask.
He looks me in the eye, accusation evident, as though I should know the answer.
“Because I won’t get to see you,” he states, as though it is just that simple. I think about that statement and appreciate what he is saying.
“You will be busy, as will I. Hopefully it will go quickly. We could Skype on the weekends?” I answer.
“Skyping. I’d like that. More often than just weekends, though.”
He pauses before continuing.
“All of my construction teams go off for their breaks as of Friday and the following week will be pretty quie
t…”
He trails off. I can see a small spark in his eye though and I don’t believe it is from the bedside lamp.
“That’s good Elliot. You can tie up any loose ends before your Christmas break.”
I reach out and brush a stray lock of hair off his face.
“Very true babe.”
He speaks softly now. He reaches for my hand as I am pulling back and holds it in his. Bringing it up to his lips and kissing it gently several times and just like that my body is on fire again.
I feign a yawn hoping it would give me reason enough to turn off the lights and pretend to fall asleep. Any more touching and I will be kissing this beautiful man all night. He releases my hand and unclasps his watch from his wrist and places it on the bedside table.
“It’s almost 10:30, babe. You should get some sleep.”
With this invitation I was free to go ahead with my plan.
“We both should,” I reply. I roll onto my back and switch off the lamp before settling back into a comfortable position and closing my eyes.
“Have a good night’s sleep.” I yawn for real this time.
Elliot’s reply is simple. “You too, beautiful”
I feel him roll over and get comfortable himself. He doesn’t wrap his arms around me for which I am grateful and yet part of me longs for him to cuddle me.
The last thing I remember before drifting off to sleep is the daydream from earlier in the day. Laughing in a car with two children in the backseat with Elliot sitting beside me. Our hands intertwined and a simple gold wedding band glinting in the sun.
The room is dark, too dark when I wake. I swing out of bed and walk over to the window and pull open the blinds. The light that shines through is bright, too bright for the sun. It is almost as though I am directly under a lamp. I can feel myself squinting trying to make out anything that I can possibly see. It is impossible. The light is close to blinding.
I back away from the window and turn around to look back at the bed that I had just left the comfort of. I can see someone is still sleeping tangled up in the covers. A peek of shoulder showing at the top of the blanket, his head covered by the pillow. I tiptoe across the floor towards the bed and sit down on the edge. Tossing around ideas of what to do next. I decide to lie down and then immediately roll over to wrap my arms around my companion.
“Wakey, wakey, sleepy head”
I feel him start to stir in my arms and he reaches up with his arm and pulls the pillow from his head, turning around to face me. I’m shocked. This face doesn’t belong to Elliot, though. No, it is much worse. This face has thick eyebrows and a head full of dark hair. I try to pull away but his hands have snaked around my own and are already pinning mine down against him as he continues to roll and press himself down on top of me.
“I’m awake, Angela. Thank you for the wakeup call. It’s about time you wanted more.”
He grimaces and brings his face down on mine. With my hands pinned under his weight his left hand grasps my chin, holding me in place. He forces his tongue down my throat while kissing me forcefully.
I squirm under him trying to get myself free. When he finally removes his tongue from my mouth and stops kissing me I spit at him.
“Get the fuck off me, Dylan”
He laughs at me.
“Now, Dylan.”
He ignores me and continues with his assault. He moves one of his hands down from my face, down towards my pelvis, pulling my nightgown above my hips. He spreads his legs slightly to allow his hand access. He then lifts it above one of my legs, trying to push my legs further apart. His hand finds my underwear, he tugs at it violently and it falls apart. I feel his rough fingers touch my most sensitive area.
“You’re wet Angela. You want this and I’m going to give it to you whether you want it or not.”
I see red. I lift my knee quickly and connect with his manhood. He raises his free hand with lightning speed and strikes me across the face.
“You stupid bitch. Give it up already.”
He is so angry. He slaps me again. I scream so loudly I am sure someone will hear us. I feel his lower body moving above my own, and then he has his boxers in his hand. He throws them over the side of the bed. He leans back and the covers fall back for me to see, with both of his hands he grips my legs, spreading them far apart. He positions himself in between them, his cock standing to attention.
“I’m going to make you bleed Angela. You’re going to thank me”
A horrible grin spreading across his face. In position be releases my left leg, instead rubbing his cock. He lines it up with my entrance and in one, swift, excruciating movement he slams into me. I cry out. It is the most painful thing I have ever experienced.
“You are so goddamn tight. Let’s change that shall we?”
His voice is so thick with want. He pulls back, all the way, his cock leaving my insides and then slams into me again. Immediately pulling back out and pushing into me again with so much strength I feel as though I’m going to split apart.
“Stop it Dylan. Now. You’re hurting me.”
I feel the tears falling down my face. He just leers at me.
“It only hurts the first time. The more we have it the better it will feel. You’ll see.”
His rhythm is punishing. Not being able to take the pain anymore, I close my eyes, and pass out.
I’m shaking, physically shaking and a hand is brushing the hair from my face. I reach up and swat it away.
“Don’t touch me. Get away from me,” I say with venom in my mouth. I feel the touch leave me and then the glow of the bedside lamp being turned on provides some light on the situation.
“Angie. It’s just me. Elliot. You were having a nightmare. Are you okay, baby?”
His voice is so full of concern it makes me break and I start to cry. Not a feminine pretty cry, but all-out loud sobbing.
I turn and fall face down into the pillow and continue to cry for what seems like the longest time. I can feel Elliot stroking my hair and I hear him whispering sweet nothings, to try and calm me down. I feel my crying start to ease, and force myself to raise my face from the pillow. I turn slowly and look at him, his face is full of concern. He opens his mouth to say something but closes it again. Obviously thinking better to keep quiet.
“Sorry I woke you,” I whisper.
“You don’t have to say sorry, babe. It’s okay. You’re safe.” He pauses. “Do you want me to hold you?” he asks, and as soon as he has said it, I know that I want to be in his arms. I nod and lean over towards him. He opens his arms and I sink down onto his chest. Laying my ear over where his heart is located and listened to it beating. The steady rhythm helping me to relax. He is warm and his strong arms wrapped around me give the fantastic feeling of safety.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
The bedside lamp is once again turned off and we lay there for who knows how long. Elliot doesn’t ask me for any details about my nightmare. He just holds me close to him. This is the first time I have ever had this particular nightmare, and that’s exactly what it was, my worst fear, replaying one of the worst nights of my life, albeit in a different setting. Dylan had raped me, and it was the final day of our relationship together. I knew once it had happened there was no going back for us.
I would have to tell Elliot everything one day. If we ended up making this relationship work, he would need to know about my past. He had a right to know, and I wanted to share everything about myself with him, even the bad. I feel Elliot kiss my hair a few times. My eyes are finally getting heavy and when they finally decide to close, I allow the darkness to take me. Hopefully into a dreamless sleep for the remainder of the night.
~ Chapter Twenty–Eight ~
I hear the repetitive beep of the alarm clock before I even come to consciousness. I know it is an alarm even though it is a different tone to my own. The sound becoming increasingly loud and I no longer fight to keep my eyes closed. I open them slowly and the light that filters into the ro
om through the gaps in the curtains hurts my eyes at first. The tell-tale spots in my vision. You know, the ones that appear when you first open your eyes after they have been closed for several hours. I curl my hands into fists and gently rub my eyes. The alarm ceases its sound, and that’s when I remember I’m not alone in this bed.
I feel him before I see him. He lifts his hand and strokes my hair. I have my back facing him. I am a restless sleeper at the best of times and not used to sharing a bed. I hope that I haven’t done anything too bad last night.
“Good morning, beautiful.”
His voice comes from just behind my ear and I can’t help but smile. Here I was, lying in this comfortable king bed with one of the most eligible bachelors of New York. We had done nothing last night, besides cuddling. Of that I am completely sure, he had the same ideals as I and that makes me feel so comfortable.
“Good Morning, yourself,” I reply.
I slowly roll onto my back and continue over to my side to face Elliot. He looks adorable. His blond hair messed up from rubbing on the pillow all night. His eyes a sparkling blue from the sunlight that has encapsulated us on the bed.
He is beautiful. There is no sense in denying it, and I am one hundred percent attracted to him, so very much so. I reach out my hand and stroke his face gently with the back of my fingers. He has a small amount of stubble on his chin; due to it being nearly the same shade as his hair, it is difficult to see. I recover my hand and lay it down in front of myself and just stare at him.
