We pass by a couple of shops, but none of them really catch our eye, so we decide to concentrate on something a bit more popular with a larger selection. “How about Macy’s?” Christine agrees, so we hail a cab and travel the short distance to the mall.
Once we arrive at the big store, Christine’s face lights up. By now, we’ve finished our coffees, and both of us are enjoying a slight high from our morning caffeine fix.
“Let’s take a peek,” she says.
I know Christine is incapable of “just taking a peek.” I have a feeling we’re going to be here for a while today.
First, we have a look around the more casual aisle, but neither of us picks anything out. We then look at the cocktail and other dresses which would be suitable for a masquerade ball. I immediately pick out a champagne-colored, sequined, beaded ball gown with a straight neckline, capped sleeves, and pleated chiffon at the bottom. It’s beautiful. I also find a similar dress, except this one is silver with slightly longer sleeves. I take that along with a mermaid-type dress. I have a feeling it won’t suit me, but I will try on anything even if I don’t think it will look good on me because you just never know.
“Hey, Christine,” I call. She reluctantly raises her head up and away from a pale pink lace gown and looks at me. “I’m just going to try these on.”
She nods. “Okay. I don’t think I will take much longer to pick out a few either.”
I nod my head and walk towards the changing rooms. No one is here to check me in, which is weird. Maybe they’re short-handed or too busy today. I look around for someone, but no one comes out to ask me if I want to try any of these dresses on. So, I make my way in on my own.
I choose one of the biggest changing rooms and start to undress. I hear a sound outside, so I stop for a moment. “Christine, is that you?” I shout, but no one answers. It’s become quiet again. When a few seconds go by without a response, I shake my head and unhook the dress from its hanger. I just start to step into it when I feel this whoosh of air against my back. I let the dress fall as I go to turn, but a body presses against me, halting me in my tracks.
Immediately, I freeze, but then relax as the peppery smell permeates my senses. He presses himself against my back and wraps his arm around my mouth. “Shh,” he whispers. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
My breathing hitches as my body flames with that unknown desire from last night. I look down and see the outline of a tattoo on his arm. I try to make out what the pattern is, but he has me rigid against his chest.
“If I take my hand away, will you promise not to scream?” I nod my head and feel the release of his hand from my mouth. For some reason, it’s unwelcome. His hand was warm and soft against my lips. I try to turn, but he stops me. “Not so fast, Lily. You can’t see me.”
My heart starts beating rapidly against my chest. “Why not? I want to see you.” My breathing is ragged, and my mind is racing with the thought of him being here.
What does he want with me?
I hear his raspy chuckle against my hair, and it makes me shudder. With one hand, he trails a line with his fingers from my shoulder down to my lower arm. My breath hitches as the journey leads him to my wrist. He grabs it, holding me in place as a strangled gasp leaves my lips. “Now, where would the fun in that be?” His voice hums, and to me, it’s a wondrous melody. I close my eyes like I did in my dream and just take in all that he has to offer.
“I just want to know who you are. I think I have a right to after last night.”
He kisses my neck, making my lips part with a slight moan, and I know he must be smiling at my reaction. If only I could see him. As his other hand trails down my other arm, my body gives itself away with rising goose bumps. I close my eyes again—my body trembling and my heart thumping.
“You desperately want to see me, but I know from the way your body is trembling that you don’t need to. You only need to feel me, Lily. Just feel me,” he whispers against my neck.
I lean my head back slightly, exposing myself to him. I’m completely vulnerable as I completely surrender to him … to this man … to this stranger. It feels too good to be in his arms. He has me held tightly, but at the same time, I can move if I want to. It is one of the strangest sensations I have ever experienced.
Am I in danger?
I don’t think so, but my mind is telling me to scream. Telling me to strike back and face the man who has been stalking me. To finally see him and put a face to a name. I long to see what he looks like, but my body is obeying his command. I am just feeling. I am taking all he can give.
“What would you like me to do?” I close my eyes again, his raspy voice making me shudder. I want him to do all of the things I know I shouldn’t want him to. I want him to touch me in places I’ve never been touched. I feel safe with him, but I know I shouldn’t. I am completely at his mercy; he can do anything he wants. If he had a knife, he could stab me right now, and that would be the end of me. The fact that I feel this overwhelming sense of calm with him is inconceivable.
He grips my shoulders, massaging them gently, and I can’t help the moan that escapes my lips. I’m tingling from my head down to my toes. I just can’t seem to get enough. “What do you want me to do, Lily?” he asks more forcibly this time.
“I–I–” I stutter, unable to form words. I’m an intelligent girl, but it feels as though my brain has been taken out of my head and blended into a smoothie.
“I, what? What do you want?”
He carries on massaging my shoulders, gently applying pressure with his fingers as he goes. My God, he feels good. “I want you to kiss me,” I answer, breathlessly.
At last, I have found my voice!
“But if we kiss, you will see me.” He nibbles my earlobe before moving down to my neck, and the ache in the pit of my stomach intensifies. I need him to do something to ease it.
“I promise I won’t open my eyes.”
He pauses for a moment, and I wonder if he’ll leave. The thought is unsettling. “You’re asking me to put a lot of trust in you.”
My inner common sense prevails. “Aren’t you asking the same of me? Look at the position you have me in right now.”
I hear the rumble in his chest against my back. “Fair and valid point, but will you be able to resist the temptation?”
“Use something to cover my eyes then.”
I feel his nose slide up from my shoulder to the base of my neck.
Wow, what is he doing to me?
“Kinky, are we?”
“I wouldn’t know,” I blurt, without even thinking.
“How is that? Are you telling me you’re inexperienced?” My heart rate kicks up a notch, but for different reasons this time. I don’t even know him, but yet I’m giving away all of my intimate secrets … or lack thereof. “Lily,” he utters, in a chastising tone.
“Yes,” I answer, thinking it best to just get it out in the open.
“Are you a virgin?”
I close my eyes on a sigh. “Yes.”
Again, his movements cease.
Is he not happy about this? Is he regretting coming in here?
I am about to ask him what’s wrong when he speaks. “Can I ask you to trust me?”
A rational person would say no. “Yes.”
He pulls away, and the feeling is unwelcome, but pretty soon I see his hands appear and with it a black and white patterned bandana. I know what he’s up to, so I try to take in as much of him as I can before he robs me of my sight. His hands are big and strong—almost calloused looking. They look like hands that belong to someone who has experienced a lot in his time. I manage to catch a glimpse of a tattoo on his right hand. The word looks like it could be Latin and is written in black calligraphy.
It’s been a while since I learned Latin, so I’m a little rusty. I do know it’s not a good word, and it’s on the tip of my tongue what it could be.
I have no time to reflect on this, however, as the bandana is placed around my eyes. Everything i
s dark now, but I’m not afraid. As much as I should be, I’m not.
“Now, you can turn around.” He places his hands on my arms and guides me gently around to face him. Once he’s satisfied, I feel his hand caress my face. “You have no idea what this is doing to me. Seeing you like this …” My breath hitches. I’m not sure what he means, but by the sexual tone in his voice, I believe it means he is turned on by seeing me blindfolded.
He pulls my chin up and guides me forward. I hold my breath, waiting and yearning for that first touch of his beautiful lips. A flashback of the dream comes to me where—in that moment—I am freefalling. It’s almost as if I have been transferred into the darkest part of my subconscious, and that part of my brain is now celebrating.
His tongue slides out of his mouth and gently traces a line against my bottom lip and then moves to the top to repeat the process. I moan, seeking out more, needing more. I feel his ragged breath against my own, and the thought that this is affecting him as much as me makes my loins awaken like never before. He holds me in place by my shoulders and presses his lips against mine. The ache in my stomach intensifies so richly that it’s almost unbearable. I want him to touch me.
As he breaks away to kiss down my neck, I can’t take it anymore. “Touch me,” I request. “Please, touch me.”
He’s unmoving, but I hear his breathing. It’s harsh and unforgiving … just like mine. I feel his hand caress my cheek. “Here?” he asks, but I know he’s just playing with me.
“No.”
“Here?” he asks again, moving his hand down from my cheek to my neck. I shake my head. “Here?” He curves his hand down to my chest where he moves a finger between my breasts. My breath hitches. “Here?” I shake my head again, getting more and more flustered. I can feel the heat rising through my body and into my cheeks. I must look practically scarlet to him. “Or here?” He moves his finger over the curve of my breast, and the moan that escapes me tells him everything. “I want to feel your soft flesh against my hand, Lily. I want to hear your moans.”
“Please,” I beg. I don’t know why I want this, but I do.
“You look stunning in black lace.” And then, I feel it. His hand sweeps under my breasts without quite touching me. He’s teasing me, and it’s driving me crazy. I moan, throwing my head back. “So receptive,” he breathes against my lips. His thumb swipes over my ribs making me gasp. “More?” I nod my head, giving him permission. I want him to go further, but for some reason, he’s not playing ball.
I feel him stroke his fingers along my neckline, down to my shoulders. My breath hitches again, wondering what he’s going to do next. I hear him suck in a breath. “Beautiful,” he whispers, making me shudder, “where now, hmm?” he asks softly making my breathing heavier.
I reach out, and it is as if he knows I want his hand as he lets me take it. I guide him towards one breast, but he stops just before touching it. “You are quite the little vixen, aren’t you?”
“Why won’t you touch me?”
“I am touching you. It’s just not in the way you want me to.”
“Why?”
I feel him tugging on a strand of my hair. “Because, Lily,” he says quietly, “you’re only seventeen. I won’t touch you there… Not until your birthday at least.”
I don’t like that he won’t touch me, but at the same time, it makes me want him even more. He may be a stalker, but he’s apparently a gentleman stalker in some ways. “Can you at least kiss me again?”
I hear him take in a deep breath. “That, I can do.”
He doesn’t wait much longer. He catches my lips again, but this time it’s almost feral. He slips his tongue in, seeking out mine and we mesh together in perfect harmony. I pull him closer and almost combust once I hear his growl. I moan a little, and as I do, he thumps me up against the wall. I groan again, fisting his hair in my hands as I pull him closer. I feel his hardness digging into me as he practically dry humps me up against the wall.
Shit! What am I doing?
I don’t know, and I don’t seem to care. The combined feeling of having his body against mine, his lips against mine, and our beating hearts against each other is taking over. I just want to feel him—feel all of him.
Just as I’m thinking this, he suddenly pulls away. I am not ready to stop. I need more. I need him to give me more. My lips part in order to let my grievance be known when he suddenly pulls my bra strap up—the one I didn’t even realize had fallen—and touches my cheek with his finger. “Time’s up, Beautiful.”
I stand stock-still, unable to form any words.
Is he leaving me?
I start to ask, but then I hear the telltale sound of a door, and my heart beats even harder. After a couple of seconds spent waiting and hearing nothing, I decide to pull off the bandana. I squint at first as the bright light of the cubicle hits me, but as my sight comes back, all I’m met with is my reflection in the mirror. My hair is messy, and my lips are swollen from our kisses. I look down at the bandana and bring it up to my nose. It smells of him. I close my eyes and savor the fragrance as I try my hardest to wrap my head around what we just did … again.
When I open my eyes next, I look down to see a lily placed on top of my jeans. I smile, picking it up and smelling its peppery fragrance. It makes me wonder if this stranger surrounds himself in lilies.
A knock sounds at my door, making me jump. “Lily, are you in there?”
I place my hand on my chest, trying to calm my ever-beating heart. “Yes. Just a second. I want to show you something.” As quick as a flash, I pull the dress over me and try to zip it up as high as I can. I open the door and see Christine in the dress she was looking at earlier. It looks beautiful on her.
“Wow!” we both say in unison. We start laughing, and I notice Christine scrutinizing me. “What have you been up to in there? Not only were you in there for a long time, but you look all … I don’t know … flustered.”
My heart starts to pick up yet another notch because I know I look just how she’s describing me. “I’ve been trying on all these dresses, and I just got a little hot. Don’t you think it’s hot in here?”
Christine blows out some air. “I guess it is a little warm.” She eyes me up and down. “But, look at you. Stunning! Have you not seen yourself?”
As she mentions it, I realize that I haven’t yet. I notice a mirror behind Christine, so I go to inspect myself. I’m surprised by how good I actually do look. Christine stands next to me, and we admire each other. Christine has a stunning figure. Hers is more curvaceous, whereas mine is a little flat. I think that’s due to all of the running I do.
“You look beautiful, Christine.”
She stares at herself and sighs. “I know. It’s just a pity I can’t buy it.”
I frown. “Why not?”
She turns towards me and holds out the price tag. It’s just over three hundred dollars. “Ouch.”
She nods her head. “Yeah… Ouch. How much is yours?”
We pick up the label and it says reduced from just over four hundred dollars down to two hundred and fifty-eight dollars. It’s still very expensive, but due to my savings and my parents’ contribution, I can afford to buy it.
“Not as expensive as mine, but still expensive. You should get it.” She turns away and heads back to her cubicle. She’s putting on her brave face, but I know she secretly wants that dress.
I go back to my cubicle, not feeling as good as I did when I first went in. I get undressed, place the dress back on its hanger, and put my jeans and top back on. Once I’m done, I pick up the lily flower, place it in my bag, and open the door. Christine is waiting, and she’s holding all of her dresses. “I’m just going to go to the restroom. Be back in five.” She moves away, hanging all of her choices on the return rack, and a thought strikes me. As my legs jerk forward, I pick up the dress Christine was wearing and place the other two I brought with me on the rack next to the others. I walk out and quickly find a cashier who takes them from me right
away. The total is over five hundred dollars and it hurts. I have around a thousand in savings, so I can more than afford to buy them both. It just took me a long time to get there, so saving it back up I know will take time.
I hide the little pang in my stomach when I realize what the look on Christine’s face will be when she realizes that the dress she wants—and now has—for the dance will completely outweigh everything else. I smile as the cashier places the two dresses in separate boxes. Christine’s going to love it.
Once the cashier hands me the bags, I thank her and make my way to the restroom to wait for Christine. When I get there, though, I’m shocked by what I see.
“You don’t fucking touch me! Do you hear me?!” Christine is screeching at the top of her lungs at this man with his hands in the air in surrender. He has a look of pure shock on his face.
“I swear I never touched you! It was a mistake.”
She motions forward, pointing her finger in his face. “You touched my back. I felt it. You’re a fucking pervert!”
I’m rooted to the spot in shock. Christine is really laying into him. Her face looks like a mixture of venom and fear. That’s what is shocking me the most. She looks scared to death.
“I didn’t touch you,” he utters again, looking just as scared as Christine. For some reason, I believe him. Christine looks completely out of it.
“Nobody fucking touches me without my permission,” she chokes, running off towards the exit.
Shit! What the fuck just happened?
At first, I don’t move, but when I realize how upset she looked, I go running after her. I find her outside the shop and go to place my hand on her shoulder. “Christine, what’s—”
“Don’t fucking touch me. I don’t want you near me. Go to fucking hell, Lily!” She storms off in a flood of tears, and I’m left completely flustered and bewildered by what has just taken place.
What the hell is wrong with people today?
SCARS Page 6
