Need (Finding Anna)

by Hayes, Sherri

  I played with Brianna’s hair as I rattled off the number to him. Seconds later, the line went dead. I guessed it was too much to ask him to say thank you.

  Closing my eyes, I let all thoughts of Cal Ross disappear and concentrated on the feel of Brianna’s hair between my fingers. It was long and soft. I couldn’t help but think of all the things I could do with her beautiful hair.

  I let her sleep another twenty minutes before gently waking her.

  Groggily, she turned to look up at me. “Hi,” she said, looking embarrassed to find her head in my lap.

  “Hi,” I smiled. “How did you sleep?”

  “Good,” she blushed, glancing down.

  I knew I hadn’t been unaffected by her presence, but I was also trying very hard to ignore it. Her staring at my rapidly growing anatomy wasn’t helping. Her mouth was so close. I could feel her warm breath through my jeans. I tightened my grip on her hair, and her eyes locked with mine. It would be so very easy to tell her to unzip my jeans and take me into her mouth. I still hadn’t forgotten the last time. I wasn’t sure I ever would. Her gaze held mine, and I knew without a doubt that all I had to do was give the word.

  But I couldn’t. She wasn’t ready. It had been less than a week since she’d panicked from me touching her.

  Reluctantly, I removed my hand from her hair and let it fall to the bed.

  “Are you hungry?” I needed a distraction, and food seemed like the perfect choice.

  “Yes, a little.”

  “Go clean yourself up. I’ll wait here, and then we’ll go get something.”

  She nodded, and walked into her bathroom.

  I spent the time she was gone trying to calm myself down. That was too close, and I didn’t want to do anything that either of us would regret.

  Brianna

  I splashed water on my face, trying to get the sleep out of my eyes. My reflection looked back at me with uncertain eyes. Why had he stopped? I could see—feel—that he wanted it.

  But even as I asked the question, I knew that it was me. I had messed up. It was my fault he wasn’t touching me anymore. I just didn’t know how to fix it.

  Maybe Lily would know. He told me that I could ask her anything, so I could ask her this, right?

  The tips of my fingers grazed over my lips and then down to my breasts. I wanted to feel that warmth again, the tingly feeling his hands left on my skin.

  I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. Lily. She’d know what to do.

  For the rest of the weekend, I wasn’t out of Stephan’s sight for long. We worked out together, took a walk in the park, and he even helped me make dinner Sunday. But what he didn’t do was push anything physical.

  Monday came and went as I debated whether I could really call Lily and ask her such a question. By Tuesday morning, I was no closer to the answer. So instead of spending another day arguing with myself, I called Lily as soon as I hit send on my eight o’clock text to Stephan.

  “Brianna!” Lily said with excitement.

  “Hi, Lily.”

  “Is everything okay? I mean, not that I’m not glad you called, but I’m usually the one calling you.”

  “I . . .” Maybe this wasn’t the best idea.

  “You can ask me anything, you know. Even if it’s about Stephan.”

  I closed my eyes and mentally crossed my fingers.

  “How do I get him to touch me again?” I said, as quickly as I could get it out. I just hoped she understood what I’d said and I didn’t have to repeat myself.

  “What do you mean by get him to touch you again? What’s he not doing that he was?”

  “He hasn’t . . . since last week. I panicked . . .”

  “Ah,” she said. “He’s stopped the sexual stuff.”

  “Yes,” I said, breathing a sigh of relief that she understood.

  “Have you asked him? Talked to him about why he stopped?”

  I pressed my lips together. There it was again. Talking. Communication.

  “No,” I admitted.

  “Maybe that’s what he’s waiting for.”

  I continued to think about what Lily had said long after I hung up the phone. And the more I thought about it, the more I believed she could be right. I was sleeping on the floor beside his bed, texting him, following him around because I hadn’t talked to him about something that was bothering me. Now this was bothering me, and I still wasn’t talking. What was wrong with me?

  When he came through the door that evening, I had talked myself into talking to him a dozen times. I’d also talked myself out of talking to him a dozen times.

  He walked over to me, and pulled me into his arms.

  Dinner was quiet as usual. I knew I was allowed to talk whenever, but it just didn’t feel right unless he was holding me. It also helped if we were sitting in his chair.

  I cleaned up before going to sit with him. Since I’d been texting him what I was doing throughout the day, our evening conversations had changed a little. Instead of asking me what I did, he’d ask me questions about what I’d told him I’d done.

  Because I’d called Lily right after I’d texted him that morning, and the call ended well before the next text, I’d not mentioned talking to her. I knew it was time. I needed to do this. Lily was right. He was probably waiting for me to say something.

  “I called Lily.”

  “Did you?” I couldn’t see his face since I was in my favorite position with my head on his shoulder, but he sounded surprised.

  “Yes.” I pressed my lips together, nervous. “Was that okay?”

  “Of course,” he said, running his fingers gently down my arm. “It’s just that you’ve never called her before on your own. I’m proud of you.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief and smiled.

  When I didn’t say anything else, he asked, “You know you can talk to Lily about anything you wish. Is there a reason you brought her up?”

  “Yes. I . . . I called to ask her something.”

  “Oh?”

  “She said I should talk to you.”

  To my surprise, he chuckled. I didn’t know how I felt about that. Why was he laughing?

  “And what are you to talk to me about, Brianna?” When I didn’t answer right away, he shifted me in his lap and lifted my chin so I was looking at him. “Talk to me,” he said, seriously.

  “You . . . you haven’t . . . touched me . . . since I . . . since I . . .” I could feel the moisture pooling in my eyes.

  “Deep breaths. You can do this.”

  “Don’t you want me anymore?” I whispered.

  “Do you still want that?”

  “Yes,” I nodded. “I’ll do better. I promise. I’ll . . .”

  He pressed his index finger against my lips, stopping my anxious words. “Thank you,” he said. “I’ve been waiting to see if you’d approach me. I’m very glad you did, even if you spoke to Lily first. She gave you good advice. You need to be able to come to me with these things, Brianna. With everything. Good or bad.”

  I nodded, and when he released my face, I lay my head on his shoulder once again.

  We sat there for a long time watching a movie on television. I only watched parts of it. I was too lost in my thoughts.

  Did this mean that we’d be starting again? I thought it did.

  I played with the buttons on the front of his shirt as I tried to think of ways I could make sure what happened the last time didn’t happen again. But as much as I didn’t want to panic or have a flashback, I wasn’t sure I could stop it from happening no matter how much I wanted to.

  Talk to him. I just had to remember to talk to him. It wasn’t my panic that got me into trouble the last time, it was my not talking.

  I closed my eyes and took slow even breaths, enjoying the feel of his hands as they rubbed gently on my back.

  Suddenly, I realized the television wasn’t on anymore. The room was quiet except for our breathing. I looked up at him, wondering if something was wrong.

  “Ti
me for bed, Brianna.”

  Nodding, I stood reluctantly. I couldn’t believe it was time already. I didn’t want him to let me go yet.

  He cupped my face. “Go get your nightclothes and bring them into my bedroom with you. Do not change. You have five minutes, Brianna.” Then he disappeared into his room.

  Brianna

  I was nervous. And excited. He had something planned. As quickly as I could, I brushed my teeth, gathered up my nightclothes, and made a dash into the bathroom before going to his room.

  When I entered, he was still fully dressed, minus his shoes. My brow wrinkled in confusion. Every other night, he’d been waiting for me in his boxers. He smiled and walked toward me. I pressed my lips together, and I could feel my teeth biting into my lip.

  “Relax, Brianna. Trust me.”

  I nodded, and tried to take some deep breaths. His right hand came down to tangle with mine as he walked backward, leading me into his bathroom.

  This bathroom was so much bigger than mine. I’d been in it once before, but its size still amazed me. There was a large counter with two sinks lining half of one wall. Each sink had tall mirrors topped with bright lights. On the other side of the room was a large bathtub that looked as if it could fit more than one person. It was deep, wide, and very different from the bathtub in my house in Dallas, or even the one at John’s.

  I quickly closed my eyes and blocked that out. I didn’t want to think about my father. Instead, I continued to follow him farther into the bathroom. We came to a stop in the back corner beside a large glass door.

  He released my hand, took my nightclothes from me, and placed them on a bench I hadn’t noticed to my left. “I want your eyes on me at all times,” he said before he reached for the hem of my shirt and lifted it smoothly over my head.

  I tried my best to obey him as he removed each article of my clothing. He didn’t go slow as he had in the past. It was quick and efficient, and soon I was standing naked before him, feeling more exposed and bare than I had in two months.

  He brushed his fingers across my cheek and trailed them down the side of my neck following the curve of my breast down to my waist. I closed my eyes automatically at feeling his touch again.

  “Eyes open,” he reminded me, and I quickly raised my gaze to look at him.

  There was always something so intense about his eyes. The mixture of green and brown was unlike anything I’d ever seen before as he stared back at me.

  “Now, I want you to undress me.”

  I froze. He wanted me to what?

  As if sensing my hesitation, he took my hand and placed it against his chest, right over the buttons of his shirt, the same ones I’d been playing with earlier. I gazed up at him, questions in my eyes that I was too afraid to voice.

  “Go on,” he said. “I can’t very well take my shower fully dressed, now can I?” He gave me a little smile.

  Okay. I can do this. With shaky hands, I unbuttoned his shirt, fumbling the entire way. I kept glancing up at him to see if he was getting upset with me since I wasn’t able to get him undressed as quickly as he’d been able to undress me, but there was no sign of anger or impatience in his face. He just stood there, waiting.

  Finally, his shirt was unbuttoned, and he helped me push it off his arms so it fell to the floor. He’d taken my clothes and placed them in a hamper beside the bench, so I did the same with his shirt.

  When I reached for the button on his pants, my hands were shaking. This was so much harder than what I’d thought it would be. I’d never undressed a man before. I could see the fabric straining against what lay beneath. He was aroused, and although I knew I wanted this, it didn’t calm my fears.

  He cupped my face, bringing my gaze back to his. Instead of speaking, however, he leaned down and kissed me. It was soft and gentle, but it made me feel tingly and warm just the same. “Slow, deep breaths,” he reminded me when he ended the kiss.

  Right. Slow, deep breaths. I’d seen naked men before. I could do this.

  I released the button on the dark blue suit pants he wore, and with a deep breath I lowered the zipper and let the pants fall from his hips.

  I stood staring with my hands hanging in midair. He was still wearing his boxers, but unlike the other times I’d seen him in this state, I knew that in moments the thin fabric hiding him from my view would no longer be there. He wasn’t going to shower with his boxers on.

  It moved under my scrutiny. Had that ever happened before? My mind couldn’t help but think back to all the men who had used me over the last year, and when it did, I felt the panic rise within my chest. Breathing became more difficult. I couldn’t get enough air in my lungs. Pinching my eyes closed, I tried to make the images stop.

  I felt hands on my arms, my face. Who . . . ?

  “Brianna,” a voice said through what sounded like a tunnel. “Brianna,” it said again, louder this time, closer. “Open your eyes. Look . . . at . . . me.”

  I didn’t want to open my eyes. I knew what I’d find.

  But the voice was persistent. Repeatedly, it called my name.

  Slowly, I opened my eyes, bracing for whatever horror I would find waiting for me this time. Instead, I was greeted with Stephan’s eyes, full of concern and something else I wasn’t sure what to name.

  Once I realized it was him—and what I’d done—I dropped my head in shame. How could I spoil this? I’d asked him if we could start again, and before he’d even really touched me I panicked.

  I felt arms come around me, pulling against his bare chest, and all I wanted to do was get as close to him as I could. Why was this so hard?

  “Tell me what happened,” he asked after I’d calmed down.

  “I saw . . . it move.”

  He chuckled. “My penis, you mean?” I nodded, and he laughed again. “Well, he does tend to do that when a beautiful woman is staring at him.”

  I peeked up from my spot against his chest to find him staring down at me. “He . . . moves?”

  Leaning down, his lips grazed mine. “Yes. He has a very hard time staying still when you’re nearby, Brianna.”

  I didn’t know how I felt about that. There was fear, sure, but I loved when he called me beautiful, and he reacted like that because he found me beautiful, right? Everything I felt when it came to him was so confusing.

  “What did you think when you saw him move? You seemed to go somewhere in your head. Did you have another flashback?”

  I didn’t know if it was a flashback. It was different from what had happened before. “I couldn’t remember if I’d seen that happen before. Then, I started to remember times when . . . the other men would . . . but I don’t remember,” I cried in frustration.

  His arms tightened around me. “Shh. You’re safe. They can’t hurt you now.”

  I held tight to him, my fingers digging into the skin on his back. I couldn’t get close enough.

  I have no idea how long we stood there, but eventually, he held me slightly away from him and said, “I’m going to give you a choice. We can get dressed and go to bed, or we can continue with what I planned for tonight.”

  There really was no choice. For almost a week, I’d wanted him to touch me again. “I want to continue, Sir.”

  He smiled, and kissed me. “Okay.” Then he took my hands, and placed my fingers on the elastic waistband of his boxers. “Finish undressing me so we can have our shower.”

  Stephan

  Seeing Brianna panic sent a pain through my chest every time. And even though I knew it was a necessary evil, given what she’d been through, it didn’t make it any easier.

  Her throat moved as she swallowed nervously. I knew it might take a moment or two, but she’d do what I’d requested. It took a very long two-and-a-half minutes, but her fingers dipped inside my boxers and pulled them down, releasing my erection into full view.

  The boxers pooled at my feet, and I kicked them off and away from us. I could see how nervous she was, but she was trying to be brave. I was proud of her. Sl
ipping my hand in hers, I backed us up into the large shower enclosure.

  I loved my shower. Pink and cream marble covered every inch, and there were showerheads in both the ceiling and the walls, and a marble bench along the back wall where I kept all my shower supplies sitting in a neat line. Making sure Brianna was out of the spray, I turned on the water, letting it warm before pulling us farther into the shower.

  The water felt glorious against my skin as it always did, hard enough to work out the tension in my muscles, yet soothing enough to relax. Brianna had dutifully followed me into the cascade of water, but still looked hesitant. I pulled her now-slick body against mine. It was the first time I’d felt her skin to skin like this, and I sucked in a deep breath. The contact felt amazing.

  I ran my hand up her arm, her neck, before cupping the back of her head and bringing her lips to mine. She opened beneath my prompting quickly, but her hands remained firmly at her sides. “Touch me,” I urged. There’d be a time in the future when I’d want her arms bound and out of my way for my pleasure, but that time was not now. Now, I needed to feel her hands on me. She needed to explore my body, to become comfortable with it.

  Tentatively, her fingers made contact with my chest, and I hummed in approval as I enjoyed the sweet flavors of her mouth. She tasted of the mint from her toothpaste, but as always, there was the hint of something that was just her.

  Gradually, she gained courage and her hands increased their movements, but I could still feel her tension. Breaking our kiss, I looked down into her eyes. They were dilated, darker than usual, and I was pleased. Beyond our first two weeks together, she seemed to enjoy our kissing. It was nice to know the lack of clothing hadn’t changed that.

  Stepping back slightly, I reached for the shower gel. “Give me your hand.” She did, and I squirted a large amount of the gel into her palm. Lifting her chin, I forced her eyes upward and her gaze met mine. “I want you to wash me, Brianna.” I could see the question in her eyes. “All of me. I don’t care where you start, or where you end, but I want you to wash every inch of my skin.” Once the words left my mouth, I took a step back, giving her room, and waited.