My body sags and a roaring sob breaks free. My voice is hoarse, but it doesn’t stop me from begging for Dean, needing him so much.
“Dean! Stop! Stop!” Lily shouts, and the sound echoes through her chest. “Dean, it’s Lola. She needs you.”
“Dean, Lola needs you,” someone from close by shouts. I swear it was Pagan, but she’s not here. Is she?
My eyes are closed, too scared to open them only to find out that I’m not safe and this was all a figment of my imagination. I don’t want to open my eyes and find Jordan still on top of me, attacking me.
A cold shudder runs through me, and I bury closer to the person holding me.
I’m pulled away from the soothing arms, and for a second I cry out in fear, scared of what’s going to happen, but then I’m in familiar arms. Dean sets me in his lap and time stops because it’s him. It’s really him.
I’d recognise his woodsy scent anywhere, and I cry out with relief, burying my face in his neck and breathing him in.
He rubs his hands up and down my back, soothing me and reminding me that everything is okay, that I’m safe and the police are on their way. He keeps apologising although I’m unsure why. He didn’t do anything, but I’m too shaken up to voice that out loud.
*** *** ***
I don’t know how much time has passed; it could have been hours or minutes before the police arrived. A chair was brought out, and Dean sat me in it, wrapping me up in his suit jacket. Lily and Pagan sat by my side, comforting me. Dean only left my side when a police officer asked to talk to him. I don’t know what they’re talking about; I’ve been in and out since everything happened, not really with it. But now that everything around me is beginning to focus, I listen to what they’re talking about.
“I know this is a difficult time, but we need to know if Miss Lawson was sexually assaulted,” a male officer asks Dean. I watch as Dean’s entire body stiffens the second the officer voices his concern and the air around us thickens, the atmosphere tense.
Dean clears his throat. “I… I don’t know,” he croaks out, and my stomach sinks. I shouldn’t have worn this dress. I should have just stayed at home. Would Dean still want me now that he knows how much of a disaster I am. That I’m a magnet for bad men?
“I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have dressed like this. He said I was a slut and that I wanted it, but Dean, I promise you I didn’t. I told him no. I kept telling him no,” I rush out, explaining everything in a panicked voice. “I came out here to ring my grandpa because I hadn’t heard from him and when I heard footsteps, I just thought it was you. I got off the phone with Grandpa, and he was there, Dean. I swear, I never encouraged him or led him on, I swear,” I cry. “I’m so sorry, Dean. Please believe me. I didn’t mean for this to happen to me again.”
Pagan shoots up from her seat, and I can feel her eyes burning into me. I duck my head in embarrassment. She probably wants me far away from her brother now. I wouldn’t blame her.
Another sob breaks free as Dean steps forward, taking Pagan’s seat next to me.
“Mom, what does she mean, again?” I hear Pagan ask, and my stomach even lower at how sad she sounds. “Mom! Dad! Someone tell me what the fuck is going on. Please. Who would hurt her?” she cries, sobbing herself.
“Oh, sweetie, come here,” Mark says, bringing his daughter into his arms. My chest aches, longing for my own parents to comfort me.
“Lola, look at me,” Dean says, gently taking my chin and turning me to face him. His jaw is clenched, and I know he’s finding it hard to keep his emotions in check so he doesn’t scare me.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, needing him to know that I never meant any of this.
“None of this is your fault, love. What Rick and Jordan did to you isn’t on you. It’s on them. They’re sick fucking bastards. I’m so fucking sorry I wasn’t here for you. I should have been here. I should have protected you like I promised I would. I’ll never forgive myself, but I hope that one day you can, even if I don’t deserve it. I love you so much, and I’m so fucking sorry,” he says, sounding broken. “And by no means of the imagination do you look like a slut. You, my love, look exquisite and dazzlingly beautiful. Please don’t let what that prick said get to you. You’re stronger than that,” he says, believing it, and I give him a watery smile.
“The police need to speak you,” Lily interrupts quietly, gently placing her cold hand against my cheek before stepping away, giving us privacy.
“Thanks Mom,” he replies before she gets too far, giving the usually well-put-together woman a small smile. He turns back to me, taking my hands in his and for the first time, I notice his cracked knuckles caked in dry blood. “Before you talk to the officers, I need to know something.” He swallows and I move my attention away from his knuckles, concentrating on his pained expression.
“What?” I whisper, my voice hoarse.
“Did he…? Did he…? God, were you sexually assaulted?” He looks close to breaking.
“No,” I answer, knowing that’s what could have happened had he not saved me. More tears fall, hating myself for being in the situation in the first place. If I had just stayed closer to the entrance then maybe none of this would have happened. God, there’s a lot of ‘what ifs’, but I know deep down if I had done something differently, we wouldn’t be here right now.
“I’m so fucking sorry,” he rasps, pulling me into his arms.
My heart hurts watching this strong, confident, self-assured man break in front of me. I try to wrap my head around the fact he’s apologised once again, like this is his fault somehow when it’s not. I’m the one who dressed in next to nothing, showing off my assets. I shouldn’t have worn something so revealing.
“Dean, you have nothing to be sorry for. I shouldn’t have dressed like this, revealing so much skin. I’m the one who’s sorry,” I tell him, crying softly. Dean wipes away more tears, but I fall head first into his arms, needing him.
“No, baby, no! Should a young girl who is out clubbing with her friends wear an outfit that covers all of her body just so she doesn’t get attacked? Or should she be able to wear what she wants?” he asks, rubbing my cheek.
“Wear what she wants, but Dean―”
“No! Don’t do this to yourself. Women should be able to wear what they want, how they want without having rapists use what they wear as an excuse for what they do. They do what they do because of power, whether or not you’re wearing something revealing. They’re monsters. You could wear a bikini, and it doesn’t give him the right to attack you,” he tells me, his words splitting my heart wide open.
“It wasn’t my fault,” I sob, falling into his chest as the realisation hits me. I’m not naive to think it was actually my fault, but Dean confirming it helps.
“Shhh, it’s okay. It’s okay, baby,” he soothes. “C’mon, let’s go talk to the cops so we can get home.”
I nod in agreement and take his hand, letting him lead me over to where the police officers are waiting to talk to me.
I tell the police everything about what happened tonight, from when I left the tent to the last moment I remember before I blacked out―not literally, but mentally.
From what I strained to hear of Dean’s statement earlier, he had found me with my dress torn, revealing my corset, and Jordan in the middle of unbuckling his trousers and pinning me down.
Dean had been looking for me, thinking I’d come back into the marquee, but when he couldn’t find me, he went to walk outside again. When he reached the front entrance, he overheard a woman saying she swore she could hear someone screaming.
After tonight, I’ll fight to my death before I let another man hurt me like this. If tonight has taught me anything, it’s that I don't need to be the victim. I’m not going to let this become who I am, change who I am. I want to be strong, to be the person Dean deserves me to be, but most of all, who I deserve to be. Tonight, I was saved just in time, and I’ll always be thankful to Dean for that, but I need to lear
n how to fight back better, fight back harder.
Being sexually assaulted by a man I once thought I loved was hard, to the point of breaking, but the thought of being raped by a man I didn’t even know, any man, would have completely ruined me. It would have shattered me in a way that there’d be no recovering from. Not that what Rick did was okay, it wasn’t, but… God, I can’t even think about this anymore. I just want to forget this ever happened.
One good thing did come out of tonight, and that was finding out I’m strong enough to fight back. I believe knowing that will give me more confidence with life and help me move on.
Chapter 22
It’s three in the morning by the time we get back home and, although I’m exhausted, I’m too alert to even contemplate going to sleep.
I kick my shoes off as we enter and sluggishly drop my bag before turning to follow Dean into our bedroom.
He’s hardly said two words since the police took my statement and it’s beginning to alarm me. He’s keeping his anger in check, and although I know he’d never hurt me, I’m still fretting.
“Are you mad at me?” I ask, standing at the edge of my bed. I clutch the ends of his suit jacket in the palms of my hands, making a fist over the material.
He takes in a ragged breath, gripping the edge of the dresser before slowly turning, watching me standing there drowning in his suit jacket with tears pouring down my cheeks. His eyes soften, and he takes a step towards me.
“Lola, I could never be mad at you. I’m mad at myself.” He sighs, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “I just want to go smash his face in, but I can’t, and it’s killing me.” He pauses. “I’m worried about you too. You’ve come so far, and then this happens. I should never have let you go out there alone. I’m going to see to it that the prick gets jail time, even though he deserves a lot more done to him. I’ll stamp his name and company through the mud. The bastard stood there and had the nerve to tell me, and everyone else there, that you asked for it,” he growls, getting angry. “We could all hear you screaming. I’ll never be able to get those screams out of my head. I can still hear you, and it breaks my fucking heart knowing I wasn’t there for you.”
“What are you talking about, Dean? If it hadn’t been for you, it could have been a lot worse. He could have… could have….” I pause, shaking my head. Saying it out loud will make it real, and I don’t even want to acknowledge what could have happenen.
Dean steps forward, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me against his chest. I go willingly, leaning my head on his chest.
“C’mon, let’s get into bed. It’s been a long night,” he says, then steps back and starts undressing. I nod, pulling his jacket off, but when I look down at my ripped dress, I freeze. My eyes take in the corset, and they water, thinking about my plans for tonight. Dean was meant to be the one to take this off me. I can’t end the night with Jordan being the last person to touch me, to be the one who got to see me in this. Not when it was meant for Dean, the man I love. No one gets to see me like this, but Dean, and Jordan took that away.
I’ve come too far to fall back into my old ways.
“Are you okay?” he asks, and all I can do is nod, unsure of how to approach the subject of what I want. But I need him desperately. “Are you going to get ready for bed?” he asks, eyeing me softly, wearing only his boxer briefs.
“I can’t,” I whisper.
Walking back over to me he pulls me into his arms, and I sigh, feeling content.
“Why, baby?” he asks.
“I don’t want to end the night with him being my last memory, of him being the one to try and get this dress off me. I want it to be you. I need it to be you, Dean. I had this surprise all set up for you for when we got back, and he ruined it, Dean. He ruined it.” Tears start to fall again. I hate myself for being so weak, but tonight was meant to be a step forward for me. I was going to seduce Dean with my new undergarments and make love to him, show him how much I love him.
Dean's hand goes to the zipper on the back of my gown, and for a second my body tenses, but the feel of his cool fingers running along my spine relaxes me instead.
I trust Dean, and trust him to know what I want and need. I know he can make me forget about tonight’s incident just from his soothing words and by holding me, but I need him to erase his touch. To erase everything that tonight resurfaced, reminding me of my time with Rick.
It’s selfish of me to take this from him, but I need it. I need him. I’ve never needed anyone in my entire life the way I need Dean. And I want to finish today, tonight, on a high. I want it to end as a dream, not a nightmare.
The second the zip lowers to the middle of my back, the dress falls helplessly to the floor in a puddle.
He takes a step back, his eyes widening as a small puff of air slips through his gaping mouth. I blush as he slowly, ever so slowly, takes in my appearance from head to toe, taking his sweet time.
I’m still shocked and a little unnerved by the fact I’m actually standing here wearing a tight corset, lace knickers, and garters.
But the minute I bravely look up into his eyes, all those nerves and shyness are thrown out of the window. He’s looking at me like he’s a teenager and I just flashed him some boob for the first time. I feel sexy and although this seduction malarkey isn’t going quite as planned… this is better. With my new-found confidence, I take a few steps towards him, putting an extra bit of sway into my walk.
“Lola, I want you, but we can’t do this tonight,” he chokes out, not looking away from my attire. “Fuck! I shouldn’t even be thinking about this, not with everything that happened.” He leans down, kissing me.
I shiver, unable to control my body’s response to him or his words. I can feel the wetness between my thighs, just from him speaking in a low husky voice.
Lifting up on my tiptoes, my lips a breath away from his ear, I palm his erection through his boxers.
“This is all for you, Dean. I want you to take it off me. You own me, all of me, and I need you. I need you to help erase his touch. I love you. I’m yours, forever,” I whisper, nipping at his earlobe.
And I mean every word. I know after everything that happened tonight I should wait, but I need to erase Jordan’s touch, and Dean is the only person who can do that for me. It’s only his touch that I want, that I need. His eyes darken, hunger evident, and to drive him wilder, I press my breasts against his bare chest.
“Fuck, you drive me crazy,” he rasps, lowering to his knees. Kissing below my navel, he runs his tongue down my pubic bone, over my knickers. I throw my head back, moaning.
His teeth scrape down my thighs, pulling my stockings between them and rolling the fabric down my leg. I lose my mind watching him pay the same attention to my other leg, my core tightening, ready for him.
“I want you to strip me naked, and to feel your skin against mine. Make love to me, Dean. Please,” I beg.
“Fuck! I don’t know whether to fuck you with this on or strip it off.” His hands run over my corset as he captures my lips with a kiss.
“Please.” I pull away, arching my neck to give him access.
“I’ll give you anything you want. Anything,” he whispers, and I wrap my arms around his neck, kissing him softly.
“Anything?” I run my finger down his chest, feeling each ridge of muscle.
“Anything,” he agrees, untying the strings on my corset. The rush is intoxicating, shocks of pleasure coursing through my body, and I beg him for more.
“Patience,” he scolds me hoarsely.
In no time he has me standing in only my lace knickers, my body aching for a release only he can give me. I’ll die if he doesn’t touch me soon. My legs threaten to buckle beneath me, and Dean takes notice, picking me up and placing me in the middle of the bed, helping me shuffle to the top.
He pulls my nipple into his mouth, sucking deep until I’m calling out his name. His other hand moves to pay attention to my other breast, squeezing and pinching, the sen
sation running all the way to my clit.
“You’re so fucking sexy when you moan like that,” he whispers after letting my nipple go with a pop.
His gaze dips down to my breasts, looking at the red marks he’s put there with a wild expression as my breath comes out in sharp pants.
It was becoming hard to concentrate, especially when his hand started lowering, moving between my legs until his fingers were running through my heat.
“Yes, more,” I moan, bucking my hips.
“God, if you only knew how good you feel.”
His dick twitches, throbbing against my thigh, and I reach down, circling my palm around him and squeezing. “Not as good as you,” I murmur, pumping him.
“I can’t wait. I need you,” he groans and peels my hand from around his dick, taking it in his own hand and pumping once, twice before guiding it to my entrance.
God, I love it when he’s inside me.
His eyes are glazed over, glistening with lust as they lock on mine, watching my reaction as he slowly enters me. The tension that had been building since he removed my dress was about to explode, my body damn near release.
His thrusts are slow, his dick coated with my arousal, bringing me closer and closer to exploding. And the second his mouth closes over my nipple, tugging it between his teeth, I shatter into a thousand pieces.
“Yes,” I cry out, my body arching and my nails digging into his shoulders as my sex quivers around him.
“Jesus,” he whispers, looking down at me with darkened eyes, licking his lower lip. “Do you trust me?” he asks, and I catch my breath, looking up at him in puzzlement.
“With my life,” I answer straight away.
“Turn over and get up on your knees for me,” he whispers against my lips and my body tenses. He notices, pulling back to look down at me in confusion. “Are you okay?”
If I Could I'd Wish It All Away (I Wish Book 1) Page 24
