by Sherri Hayes
It was almost midnight by the time she placed the last encyclopedia back on the shelf. She turned around to face me but didn’t get off the floor. We stared at each other for several minutes before she began to crawl toward me. I remained still and waited to see what she would do.
She came to a stop beside my chair and laid her head in my lap. I didn’t hesitate to reach down and begin stroking her hair. We remained that way until I felt drops of moisture seeping through the fabric of my pants. “Brianna?”
It was then I heard her choke out a sob, and I lifted her chin so that I could see her face. Tears streamed uncontrolled down her cheeks.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” I brushed the moisture from her cheeks. “The reference books can’t be checked out, but did you want to pick out any novels? You’ve been speeding through the ones Lily gave you.”
Her eyes opened wide with both shock and excitement.
I chuckled. “Go on. Pick out some books and I’ll make a list for Patty. She’ll officially check them out for you tomorrow.”
She scrambled to her feet and rushed off to the romance section. While she was looking, I went behind the circulation desk to get some paper and a pen. Patty had been one of my elementary school teachers. She’d heard about my parents’ deaths and had come to the memorial service, along with several other teachers, to offer her condolences. After that, I hadn’t seen her until I’d been invited to a “Friends of the Library” meeting to speak on the foundation’s work and how we might be able to partner with the library to collect books and educational toys for children. She’d retired from teaching several years ago and was now the library director.
I returned to the table and waited for Brianna. One of the things that had changed with Brianna’s arrival in my life was that I no longer attended many of the charity functions I once had. It was something I missed, but until I was sure Brianna would be able to accompany me or I felt comfortable with her being on her own, Jamie and the other executives would have to continue filling in for me. I left her home alone too much as it was already.
Brianna came around the corner, and I jumped up to help her. She had at least ten paperback novels in her arms, and she was about to lose at least two of them.
When I removed most of the books from her hands, she blushed and looked down. “I took too many.”
Tucking the novels under one arm, I pulled her against my side. “Not at all. This will keep you busy for what? A week?”
I laid the books on the table and sat back down, pulling her with me. She quietly sat on my lap while I wrote down the titles and authors for Patty. She was doing me a favor tonight. I didn’t want to mess up her inventory.
Once I had written down all twelve books Brianna had selected—some of which had rather racy covers, I might add—I led her over to the circulation desk and retrieved one of the plastic grocery bags I’d noticed earlier. Loading the books inside so they were easier to carry, I guided her back down the hall to the storage room where we’d entered. She looked sad to leave.
“Don’t worry. We can come back.”
“Okay.” Her smile returned, and I couldn’t resist giving her a kiss.
“Come on, sweetheart. It’s late. Let’s get home.”
Brianna
“Good morning.” Stephan smiled up at me from between my legs. He’d woken me up and then proceeded to trail kisses all the way down my body.
“Morning.” I was still trying to catch my breath from the orgasm he’d just given me.
He smiled wider and crawled his way up to kiss me, plunging his tongue deep into my mouth. I could taste myself, smell myself, and I could feel his erection pressing against the inside of my thigh.
Sliding my fingers through his hair, I clung to him as he continued to kiss me. Heat was building again between my legs. I kissed him back with everything I had, waiting, hoping he’d move just a few inches and push inside me.
Just when I thought I would go crazy with the need to have him inside me, he shifted his hips just right and filled me. I would never get used to how good it felt being with him like this.
His movements were slow, measured. With every thrust and retreat, the pressure coiled tighter and tighter until I was once again ready to explode.
“Not yet,” he warned. “I’m not quite done with you yet.”
He propped himself up, causing me to lose my hold on his hair, and moved one of my legs, then the other, until my knees were resting on his shoulders. He leaned back down, stretching the muscles in my legs as he pushed them up flush with my chest. I was effectively pinned to the mattress, and for some reason, knowing he had me completely trapped and at his mercy didn’t scare me. It had the opposite effect. Like when he held my arms down, I knew he would keep me safe, protected.
With this new position, he penetrated deeper, and his thrusts turned harder and faster. I climbed higher and higher. I was right there, on the verge of climax, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
“That’s it, sweetheart. Come for me.”
He pounded into me three more times before I was screaming out my orgasm. My whole body shook, and I reached out, trying to hold on to something, anything. He grabbed hold of my hands and held tight, letting me ride out the ripples of sensation coursing through me.
When I finally became aware of my surroundings again, he’d released my legs and was placing featherlight kisses on my neck and collarbone. When he stopped kissing me and rolled off me completely, I frowned. I didn’t want him to stop.
Stephan propped himself up on one elbow and laughed at my expression. “No need to be sad, sweetheart. The day is young.” He ran a single finger from the tip of my nose, down over my lips, my throat . . . all the way down to the junction between my legs. “Trust me. I’ve in no way had my fill of you today.”
A shiver of anticipation ran up my spine at his words even though I’d just climaxed twice in a matter of minutes.
“For now, though, we need to hit the gym. I want to work on the self-defense moves Brad showed us.”
He got out of bed and padded over to his closet. Reluctantly, I went to my room to get my clothes, my legs feeling like there were no bones left in them. I had no idea how I was going to work out in the gym.
For the next hour, he encouraged me to try to get away from him. We started with him grabbing my wrist, just like the night Brad was there. I did better but was still only able to break his hold about fifty percent of the time.
When he saw I was getting frustrated with that, he’d moved onto the second technique. This one was a lot harder for me. I was supposed to run my foot along my attacker’s—Stephan’s—lower leg, and then stomp on his foot. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t hurt Stephan. He kept telling me it was all right, to give it my all, but the one time I really tried I ended up in tears, so he stopped.
I hated that I couldn’t do better. He’d explained to me why he wanted me to learn this, and I understood. It made sense. But logic didn’t change how I felt.
After showering and eating breakfast, Stephan had me sit down at the dining room table. He stood by my chair, holding my journal out for me to see. It was as if a lead weight had settled into the pit of my stomach.
Instead of handing it to me or placing it down on the table in front of me, he flipped through some of the more recent pages. Then he took a paperclip I hadn’t noticed before and clipped several pages together.
“I don’t want you reading the pages I’ve placed between this paperclip unless I’m around, understood?”
I knew that tone. “Yes, Sir.”
“Today, I want you to write down ten positive things about yourself in your journal. They can be anything as long as they are about you and they are positive. It can be something about yourself you like, not a thing but a personality trait. A physical feature. A talent. Anything.”
I nodded in understanding although I had no idea how I was going to accomplish such a task.
“Let me be clear,
Brianna. You will sit here until you finish, even if it takes all day. You may get up and go to the bathroom if you need to, and I will allow you periodic breaks to stretch your legs and eat. Other than that, I expect you to be writing or thinking about what to write.”
“Okay,” I whispered weakly.
“I’m sorry? I didn’t hear you. What was that again?”
“Okay, Sir. I understand.”
“Good. I have some work to do today. If you need me, I’ll be upstairs.” He handed me my journal, leaned down, and placed a kiss on the top of my head.
I watched him pick up his laptop and disappear up the stairs. With each step he took away from me, the feeling of dread increased. How was I going to come up with ten things?
For the first hour, I sat staring at the blank page in front of me. Not one thing had come to my mind that I could write down.
At eleven, he came downstairs. He walked into the kitchen, got two glasses out of the cabinet, and filled them both with water. Without saying a word, he strolled over to where I was sitting, set one of the glasses down in front of me, and then went back upstairs. I didn’t know what to make of it. Why hadn’t he said anything?
I took a drink of my water and then picked up my pen. One thing. I had to be able to come up with one thing. What did I like about myself?
As soon as I opened my mind, the flood of negative began to fill my head.
“You stupid cunt. This is all you’re good for, isn’t it?”
No. No!
I shook my head furiously, trying to block the voice from my head.
“What happened?” Stephan’s voice beside me made me jump.
When I realized he was really there, I threw my arms around his neck.
“Shh. Tell me what’s wrong?”
“I heard them again.”
He didn’t answer right away. “The voices?”
I nodded.
Stephan sighed. He glanced down at my empty page. “You haven’t written anything.”
“I know. I was trying. Honestly I was.”
“Brianna, I want you to look at me.” He waited until I was looking. “Tell me one thing you like about yourself.”
I stared at him in disbelief.
“Right now. Tell me something.”
“Um.” He brushed a loose piece of hair out of my face, and I remembered how my mom used to tell me how pretty my hair was. It wasn’t something I thought about, but . . . “My hair?”
“What about your hair?”
“I . . . like it?”
“What do you like about it?”
I scrunched up my nose and thought about it. “I like . . . I like how it’s wavy. And . . . and I like the color.”
He smiled. “Good girl. See? You can do this.”
I wasn’t so sure, but I nodded.
“I’ll be upstairs,” he announced, leaving me to my writing.
I picked my pen back up.
1.I like my wavy hair.
The next few came easier.
2.I’m a good cook.
3.I was good in school.
4.I like to read.
After that, I was stuck. I didn’t know what else to add. It was so much easier to think of the bad things.
It was then I understood why Stephan was making me do this. It was easier to remember the bad things. Unfortunately, that revelation didn’t make it any easier to come up with positives.
I was still pondering what else to write when Stephan came back down. This time, he walked directly behind me and read what I’d written. “Good girl. It looks like you’ve made some progress.”
“Yes. A little.”
He massaged my shoulders, easing tension I hadn’t realized was there. “Getting hungry?” My stomach grumbled. “I guess that answers my question.” He chuckled as he continued to work his magic on my upper back.
I closed my eyes, and for several minutes I forgot about the list I was making and relaxed into his touch. My skin warmed under his fingers. I tilted my head forward and groaned when he slid his hands up over my shoulders to rub the skin just above my collarbone. His touch was completely innocent, yet it already had me craving more.
Stephan kissed me softly just below my ear, and I sucked in a breath. “Take a break and go freshen up. I’m going to make us some sandwiches for lunch.”
Before his words sunk in, he was already in the kitchen. I watched him for another minute, thinking about what he’d done to me earlier that morning, what he might do later. My heart sped up at the thought.
He glanced in my direction. “Are you not ready for a break?”
“No. I mean, yes. I would like a break.”
He smirked as if he were well aware of what I’d been thinking. I forced myself to move.
When I came back, he already had two sandwiches ready. I sat down beside him at the island, and once he’d started eating, I did the same.
“Have you had any more trouble with the voices?” he asked.
“No.” I didn’t know why they were leaving me alone, but I wasn’t going to dwell on it. They were gone, and I was hoping they stayed away.
He smiled but didn’t comment. We finished the rest of our lunch in silence.
All too soon, it was time to return to my assignment. Even though I finally understood the why of it, it didn’t help me get it done any faster.
I managed to add another four things to my list by the time he came back downstairs again.
5.Like to write.
6.I have made two friends, Lily and Jade.
7.I’m a good listener.
8.I like that I can make Stephan smile.
The last two had come back to back. They were sort of related. I loved listening to people but especially Stephan. He was always trying to get me to talk, but hearing him tell me about his day, his life, when he was growing up . . . I loved being able to just sit and listen.
“Have you taken a break recently, Brianna?”
I noticed it was almost five. “No.”
He frowned. “You need to get up and walk around every once in a while, or you’re going to put undue strain on your muscles.”
“Yes, Sir. I’ll do better.”
When I didn’t get up, he crossed his arms over his chest and cocked his head to the side. I jumped up out of my seat and walked quickly to my bedroom.
As I stood in front of the mirror washing my face, I took a moment to look at myself. Really look at myself. I was happy. That was something I liked about myself. I wasn’t frightened all the time. I had long periods where I wasn’t focused on what had happened to me and was just . . . happy. I smiled, pleased that I’d come up with yet another item for my list.
Turning off the water, I dried my hands and went back out into the main room. Stephan was still there. He stood at the island, reading what I’d written so far.
“I’m proud of you,” he commented without raising his head. “You only have two more to go.”
“I thought of another one in the bathroom.”
He smiled at me and opened his arms. I went to him.
“What is it?”
“I like that I’m happy now. That I’m not always afraid.”
“Mmm. Yes. That is a good one. I like that about you, too.”
Stephan buried his face in my hair and took a deep breath. He did that sometimes, and when he exhaled, it always sent a chill through me.
“Only one more to go.”
It took me another hour to come up with the last one. I’d reread over my list several times hoping it would help me come up with something, but it didn’t. What did help was a memory of Stephan and me working out earlier that morning. He’d commented on how toned the muscles in my arms had become since I’d been working with Brad.
I tilted my arm back and forth. He was right. My skin was no longer pale and sickly. The muscles underneath were strong and healthy. I was strong and healthy.
10. I like that I’m strong and healthy.
Chapter 21
&n
bsp; Stephan
After Brianna finished her list, I sent her to soak in the bathtub while I ordered us dinner. She was given instructions to relax. It also hadn’t escaped my attention that she’d taken one of her library books in with her.
Our food arrived a little before seven, and I went to tell her it was time to get out. The sight that greeted me made my heart thud solidly in my chest. Her hair was pulled up into a high ponytail, exposing her neck and shoulders. She was almost completely surrounded by bubbles. To top everything off, she was leaning to the side, her right hand poking out from beneath the bubbles, to hold the book she was reading. She was completely engrossed. After five minutes of me standing there watching her, she was still unaware of my scrutiny.
“Enjoying your book?”
She jumped, nearly dropping her book in the water.
I laughed and walked toward her.
“I wasn’t paying attention, Sir.”
“Don’t worry about it. I told you to relax. You should be able to do that without having to worry about your surroundings, but you didn’t answer my question.” She looked confused. “Are you enjoying your book?”
Brianna glanced at the now-closed novel. This was one of the ones with a racy cover. The man on the front was shirtless, and the woman in his arms was only half wearing her dress.
“Yes. I like it.”
I took the book from her and pretended to skim some of the pages. “What’s it about?”
Her face turned a brilliant shade of red.
Pretending not to notice, I waited for her to talk.
“Um. He’s . . . a pirate.”
“A pirate. Hmm.” I turned a few more pages in the book, pretending to read. “What about the woman? Is she a pirate, too?”
