by Colet Abedi
“What is going on in there?” He says as he rattles the doorknob.
“You told me to take a long shower!” I’m annoyed he broke my sweet daydream. It felt like I was actually there.
Erik pauses before he speaks.
“Are you masturbating?”
Mortifying!
“No!” I shout out my answer, which I realize makes me look even more guilty than necessary.
“Should we go to the Pleasure Chest today?” Erik continues in a curious voice through the door.
I can feel myself turn bright red.
“I do not need to go to the Pleasure Chest,” I retort almost angrily. I hear the doorknob move a bit and Erik unlocks it and walks in. I’m sure he used a bobby pin. Goddamn. He should have been a spy. I’m lucky my shower door is not clear. Not that it would matter. If the man needed to see or talk to me he’d open the door and couldn’t care less. Not that I would either. He’s seen me naked a million times. But still. A girl has to have some sense of modesty. And decorum.
“I feel like a giant dildo might do the trick,” Erik continues on to my complete and utter mortification.
“Are you crazy?!” I open the shower door and stare at him through the small slit. “I do not need a fake ass giant dildo!”
“It will do wonders for your mood and I really believe it will be a good Clayton replacement until we can find another real penis that is up to my standards,” Erik crosses his arms matter of factly.
“I don’t want a fake Clayton replacement,” I say.
“Why not?” Erik seems surprised.
“I want the real thing.”
There I said it. Now what he can he say to that?
“If you remember the size and girth, I’m sure there’s a place where we can get a custom pen-“ he is completely unphased by my comment and ignores my words about wanting the real thing.
“Oh. My. God.” I shut the door and lean against the tile again. “I can’t believe I’m even having this conversation with you right now.”
“It’s for the good of humanity,” Erik says. “Actually the good of our friendship. If you get off every so often then I won’t have to worry about you being a complete and utter disastrous wreck. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”
He turns to face the mirror and starts to mess with his hair.
“We are so not ever talking about a mold of Clayton’s penis again.”
“We might,” Erik says. “If you don’t find another guy soon, we might have to. Do you think you can draw it out for me on paper? You’re an artist, I’m sure you’d have it down pat. Schematics and all.”
There. Are. No. Words.
And then it gets even more embarrassing.
“Too bad you didn’t become a sculptor,” He says seriously, “we could have had a life size recreation of him right now. You’d be able to ride that shit all night long.”
I turn the shower off. I just can’t.
“Do you hear the words that come out of your mouth?” I ask him in horror.
“Yes,” he says completely unashamed. “Do you?”
“And you’re completely okay with yourself?” I go on.
“One hundred fucking percent,” Erik opens my cabinet and uses one of my sprays on his body. “I think I’m pretty goddamn incredible.”
Erik opens the shower door enough so he can meet my gaze.
“You have ten minutes to get your shit together, finish whatever thoughts you were getting off on in here then I’m coming to get you.”
“I wasn’t getting—“
He snorts.
“Please,” Erik says. “You’re flushed and horny looking. Don’t you think I know what a bitch in heat looks like?”
“What?!” I try to sound outraged.
“Remember the rough and fast moments. Those were probably very satisfying. Just hurry.”
And with that he leaves me. After a moment of horror, I actually laugh. Incredible how he can make that happen so easily. I should be beyond embarrassed right now but I’m not. What would I do without this guy? Well, you’d probably still be in the fetal position on your couch crying. Or contemplating ordering five extra large Domino Pizzas by yourself. And let’s not forget the bottle of tequila you’ve been eyeing.
That’s exactly what I’d be doing.
And let’s be real, it wouldn’t be so bad.
I step out of the shower and wrap a large white bath towel around my body. My hair falls down past my shoulders and I grab a brush and begin to slowly work the tangles out. To Erik’s credit, my face is flushed and yes, since I was caught reliving a most amazing experience I had with Clayton in the Maldives, I am a bit out of sorts. Horny, maybe. Okay. Yes. Very.
Lord.
Can’t I just let it go? What is wrong with me?
You’re never going to get over him.
Cat lady here you come.
I picture myself as a four hundred pound hoarder sitting on lazy chair with thirty cats surrounding me. That is so not a good sight.
It could totally happen to you.
I know!
Ugh. I need to stop. How? That’s the million-dollar question. It’s like going from Cristal to some three-dollar cheap ass champagne that will give you a headache, taste funny and make you wish you never even took a sip.
“Sophie?” I hear a whisper in the air. My subconscious, I know. It’s no ghost. It’s Clayton’s voice. Playing over and over in my head. And I’ve memorized every part of it. Every nuance that makes it so special to me. I know it. I talk to him so much. I ask him why. Why did he have to turn out to be a cheater? What did Amelia have that I didn’t?
Do you really want to go there? My evil subconscious answers for me.
Try, she is a supermodel, is sex on sticks and could seduce a priest.
I decide my subconscious is a bitch and I hate her.
Ugh. Why did he have to ruin me for every man that would come after him? How was I ever going to meet anyone, anyone that could even compare to him? I realize I sound like a whiny crybaby but hell, I am still going through the rough stages of accepting that I’ve been cheated on and lied to.
A part of me thinks it wasn’t his fault. He didn’t know just how damn perfect he was. Didn’t know his appeal to women. He didn’t realize that he was a walking God. That his touch was like liquid fire. That it could make you melt and come in one stroke. That his eyes could make you feel like you were the most special woman in the world, even though you know he’s had more beautiful. He was an anomaly, that special breed of person that just had it all and knew how to use every part of it.
I couldn’t blame Amelia for not wanting to let go. I didn’t.
“Sophie,” Clayton whispered again, “walk over to me.”
Once again I was transported back into the plunge pool in the Maldives. The sun was going down and the water sparkled like jewels against the bright rays. But Clayton was what had me riveted. He was like a beacon against the light.
“Why should I?” I challenge him.
His eyes narrowed, annoyed, I know. But there was still that heat there. That want. It was undeniable between us. All we had to do was look at each other and it was there. The electricity in the air. Only later would I realize how incredibly rare that was.
“Don’t play games with me,” his voice was practically a growl.
“I’ve told you before, I don’t play games,” I said to him. “This is all new to me. Every part of it.”
“Then why aren’t you in my arms?”
“Because I’m still trying to understand why you left me wanting,” I told him honestly. “And then you walked into the pool and expected me to follow.”
Clayton was quiet for once.
“Is this how it is? How it works with all the women in your life?” I asked curiously.
“Sophie-“ he warned.
“No,” I shake my head. “Tell me. Do they all follow these rules of yours? You dictate. They follow. You leave. They chase you. You sta
rt to make them want you. Then they have to beg for release?”
When the words came out of my mouth I was surprised I even uttered them. But then, I was dealing with a man who had never been denied. Who’s had everything he’d ever wanted at his beck and call. I had seen it at least a dozen times since I met him and it worked that way in every part of his life.
The only indication that my words had affected Clayton was the flash of annoyance I saw in his eyes. He was angry. Turned on. And so much more.
Chapter Three
“Are you going to say something?” I asked him.
“No.” He replied quietly, leaning down in the water. It slushed over his shoulders shielding every delicious part of him from my view.
“Why not?” I asked him challengingly. “Why can’t you ever answer any questions? Why does your life have to be a big mystery but mine is this open book, with every detail out there for you to see from a to z?”
“I’ve always welcomed questions from you,” he said slowly. “I’ve never denied you-“
“That’s not true,” I interrupted him. “You deny me by avoiding or seducing me until I forget what it was I was after knowing.”
His blue eyes pierced into mine.
“So ask me,” he snapped out.
I swallowed nervously. He was in full wolf predator mode, the way he was watching me. Ready to pounce. His nickname suited him so well. But I stood my ground.
“Why did you leave me like that?” I asked with a hint of a challenge to my voice.
“Like what?”
God, he was going to make me spell it out.
“Wanting you,” I told him bluntly. “In need.”
“Because I could,” he answered without hesitation meeting my gaze with a challenge. “Because you make me lose myself. Forget every fucking thing that is going on around me and all I want to do is bury myself inside you.”
He was quiet as I digested those words. And then he went on.
“And then I saw a couple canoeing not far from here and the thought of anyone seeing you like that, even from a distance, made my blood boil.”
Oh.
My heart raced. I didn’t even know that there was anyone around. That’s how completely entranced I was.
“Have you always been like this?” I asked him a bit breathlessly.
“Never.”
The pleasure I felt was instant. I couldn’t help it. It was nice to know that that he was so possessive over me. Just me.
“Does that make you happy, Sophie?” he asked me knowingly as his eyes swept over my face.
“Yes.”
“I thought it would,” he said.
Clayton, on the other hand, didn’t seem very happy with his confession.
“Does it make you mad?” I asked the obvious.
Clayton looked away from me, avoiding my gaze to the side as he thought about my question. It allowed me a minute to study his strong profile.
“I don’t know how to feel about it,” he answered softly. “But that’s the thing with you. Since I met you. I haven’t known how to deal with the emotions.”
My heart warms. And a part of me feels sorry for him. It couldn’t be easy for him, being one way his entire life and then having to experience all sorts of new emotions that he wasn’t accustomed to. I knew this first hand. Of course I would never share my thoughts with him, he’d probably freak out if I admitted what I was thinking.
I took a small step toward him.
“Why do you have to deal with them?” I asked tentatively. “Your emotions, I mean.”
He met my gaze.
“Because that’s what I do,” Clayton replied. “I analyze situations. I know the answer before I allow myself to be part of it. That’s the way it works in my business and personal life.”
The way he looked at life was so beyond strange. I guessed the word spontaneous wasn’t in his vocabulary.
“But don’t you think there are some things that don’t really have any answers, at least tangible black and white ones,” I said to him. “Sometimes you just have to go with what you feel and throw caution to the wind.”
He actually smiled.
“Do I look like someone who throws caution to the wind?”
“No,” I shook my head. “But maybe it’s time to try.”
I make my way over to him in the water. Only inches kept us apart.
“What do you have to lose?” I asked innocently.
I lightly brushed my hand on his chest, up his neck and over his lips. They opened from my touch.
Clayton was as still as a statue, his eyes were the only part of him that gave away what he was feeling. I could see the desire and the need but also something that was a bit of a surprise. Uncertainty. He didn’t know what to think of the situation or me. But it was clear as day for me see.
He was afraid.
I stepped closer to him and moved both my arms up and around his neck, using the water to easily lift myself up and playfully wrap my legs around his waist. His hands were still slack by his side.
“This would be easier if you held me.” I smiled and gave him a small peck on his cheek.
“Why would I do that?” He whispered, his gaze on my lips.
“Because you want me.” I said honestly. His eyes met mine and we stared at one another. Our desire was raw and untamed. Like an electrical storm, sizzling anything it touched.
“Do I?” There was a hint of a smile on his face.
“Yes,” I said boldly.
He must have liked what I said because in one second, Clayton was alive and wild, almost savage. His arms wrapped around my waist like a vine and he pulled me up against his body so I could feel him hard against my stomach. I gasped in pleasure as his hands wrapped around my wet hair and he brought his mouth to mine, plunging his tongue in, aggressively with ferocious need. He made love to my mouth and I kissed him back with just as much passion. Giving everything I had. This assault on my senses was exactly what I needed.
In a second he had my body turned and I was facing the ocean, my back against his front. He came up behind me, holding my waist, kissing my neck, and tracing his tongue on my skin. I rolled my head to the side to give him as much access as he needed as I tried to pull his hands around to my front, practically begging him to give me release. But he denied me.
He pulled my hair roughly to the side so he could whisper passionately in my ear.
“Do you want to know what I have to lose?” His voice was gruff and I could feel the desire pulsating from every part of his body.
I could only shake my head. His lips moved over my neck, licking and sucking every part of my skin he could get a hold of. He gripped my hips and pushed his leg between mine as I cried out with need.
“This, Sophie,” he said against my neck as he plunged inside, and his hands moved to clench my thighs. I felt my legs go out from underneath me. He held me up with one hand as he continued to thrust.
“My sanity,” he said against my neck as he thrust harder. My hands come up to grip the side of the pool as he pounded into me.
My cries were guttural. I couldn’t seem to control myself as he moved deeper inside me. Thrusting in and out.
“Oh God!” I cried out as I felt the blinding orgasm come over me. My body shook with the aftermath as he continued to move, grunting against my neck, licking my shoulder. Nipping at me. Biting me. Kissing me.
He turned me around again, as I still shuddered from the earth shattering orgasm. My legs came up around him and he moved inside me again pulling my hair back so that he could stare into my eyes.
“I’m afraid I’ll lose my soul,” he whispered into my mouth as he thrust one final time and came. His body trembled against mine. Against the force of our passion.
“I love you,” I said against his mouth as I kissed him tenderly. He didn’t give me the response I wanted but he did squeeze me back tightly. But at the time it was enough.
The steady sound of the ocean seemed to calm both our nerve
s.
Chapter Four
I stare at my make-up free face in my bathroom mirror.
My hand is wrapped around my neck as I slowly came back to earth from the fantasyland that was my time in the Maldives. Because that was what being with Clayton represented. It was too good to be true. Unreal. The kind of moments that come along in life that are so fleeting and poignant, that you reminisce and think about forever. I step out of the bathroom and grab a pair of black, clean sweats and a matching tank top. I change quickly and try to force positive thoughts on myself.
It’s ironic that the book on my nightstand is ‘10% Happier’, by Dan Harris when I can’t seem to be even one percent happier.
I watch my phone vibrate and I’m loathe to even look at it. Since the dreadful day in the airport when I saw the picture of Clayton and Amelia together in Singapore, I had really tried to avoid my phone at all costs. Clayton had left me at the hotel in the Maldives and said he was going to work in Singapore for the day, but instead of work he met up with his ex. How did I know this? Well, apparently Clayton is fodder for European tabloids and so I happened to come face to face with a magazine cover he was featured on, while on my return trip home. And in an incredibly intimate moment with Amelia. At the time, I had almost had a heart attack.
“Someone’s been calling non-stop,” Erik says as he stands at my door. I wonder how long he’s been watching me. At least I wasn’t crying.
I shrug my shoulders.
“Aren’t you curious?” He asks. “What if it’s an emergency?”
“My parents would call the house number,” I tell him and watch as he ignores me and goes to grab my phone. I know there’s no point in trying to stop him so I wait anxiously to see who it is.
From the look on his face I know it’s not good.
“It’s fucking Jerry.”
My heart sinks.
Yes, I had secretly hoped it would be Clayton. I wasn’t one hundred percent sure, but I was almost certain he was the one always calling from blocked numbers. He never ever left a voicemail or text message for me to positively know but my gut told me I was right. But even that was becoming less and less frequent.
