Prototype

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Prototype Page 13

by Gretchen de La O


  “Get out!” he screamed out loud.

  “I’m sorry, Roger. I am so sorry,” I begged him.

  “Get out of my head,” he demanded again banging his fists to his temples. I watched from his eyes as people stared at him like he was crazy. I had to stop him.

  “Roger. Please.”

  “Get out. Get out now. Get the hell out of my head.”

  “Okay, please stop. I’m gone.” I disconnected and found myself back in the filthy gas station restroom staring at the mirror, dried blood dribbles crusted on my cheek. I really screwed up his opportunity to save Samantha. I felt so ugly and disgusted.

  “Are you ok, Lauren?” Alejandro asked, knocking lightly on the door.

  I didn’t answer.

  Shifting his intentions, Alejandro’s soft knuckled raps turned into tight fisted thunderous strikes against the door.

  “Lauren, answer me! Are you okay? Lauren?”

  “I’ll be out in a minute,” I sighed.

  “I’m right here. I’ll wait right by the door.”

  “Thanks,” I whispered so low he couldn’t hear me.

  I pulled the hair band out of my messy ponytail and recollected the loose strands of hair that escaped. I took another handful of paper towels, wetting them and removing the dried blood off my face before pressing them to my puffy my eyes red. The cool water gave me a reprieve I desired. When I pulled the restroom door open, sure enough Alejandro was right there. I didn’t mean to be dramatic but when I saw him my knees buckled and I fell into his grasp. My heart pounded a thousand apologies for what I had done. My skin wept tears of sweat as the image of Roger freaking out and rejecting me filled my mind. I couldn’t pull myself together. I heard Alejandro call my name while images of Roger popped off in my head; everything I saw around me fizzled into black as I passed out.

  I woke up to a freezing ice pack across my face and a rolled up blanket tucked under my knees. I pulled the ice from my eyes and struggled to focus on the person who sat attentively across from me. Instantly, Alejandro rushed over, slipping his big warm hands behind my back to help me sit up. I didn’t recognize where I was. A black lacquered desk sat across the room with a brass lamp radiating a shallow yellow glow.

  Alejandro brushed my cheek with a warm damp cloth.

  “Hi, beautiful, there you are. You made me concerned,” he whispered.

  “Where am I? What happened?”

  “You passed out after you came out of the gas station lavatory and I brought you to my office.” He pushed the ice pack to my cheek and held it there.

  “We’re at your office? I passed out?” I looked around frantically. Everything in my head was wishy-washy and swimming, like my eyes was left behind while my head continued on.

  “Where’s Marshall? We’re supposed to meet him.”

  “Don’t worry about Marshall. Don’t worry about anything right now,” he said as he pulled the ice pack from my cheek, inspecting my face before he dragged his thumb soothingly under my gash.

  I ached deep in my body and the most awful part about it was that it wasn’t physical. Beat me, tear me apart, rip my body to a thousand pieces, all would be easier than what I had faced with the disappointment I caused Roger. He didn’t save Sam and it was entirely my fault; regret ripped through my spirit.

  “Where did you go?” Alejandro’s voice pierced my deep remorse; his other hand pushed my loose strands of hair away from my face. His eyes filled with trepidation as they belonged to me.

  “Nowhere,” I lied.

  “Yes, you did. You were far away, somewhere deeply painful … I recognized it in your eyes.”

  “I’m just grateful you were there to catch me when I passed out,” I told him, hoping to change the subject.

  “Me too. Someday I will figure out what makes you tick, until then, you ready to go?” He held his hands out to me.

  “Go, go where? I thought we were meeting Marshall.”

  “No, I took care of it.”

  “I don’t understand,” I piped up.

  “See, you bumped your head harder than we thought.” He pushed his fingertips to the space below my gash causing me to flinch.

  “I don’t understand, what about Marshall?”

  “There is nothing to understand, mi dama. You obviously hit your head pretty hard. I canceled our meeting with him until tomorrow … Now, I am going to take care of you.” He leaned down to slip my feet down off the sofa.

  “No!” I groused. “You shouldn’t have canceled the meeting. I could have handled it.” I cautiously slipped my feet off the sofa.

  A smug smirk grew on his face as he held up his hand. He was done hearing anymore arguments from me.

  “Lauren, it’s already done. I am taking you to my house.” He lowered his body, swallowing me in his fresh aroma. Dizzied by his attention, he slipped his arms around my back and as if he had been planning it, he inhaled against my exposed flesh as he pulled me up into his body.

  “Just take a moment to collect your balance; I’m here,” he whispered against my ear. Shaky, I took my time to steady myself. He helped me back into his car, remarkably the blood that splattered from my face was gone from the dash.

  It wasn’t hard to notice he was driving much slower this time. Every time I closed my eyes, Roger’s anger would creep into my thoughts, my body would jerk and I would let out a muffled whimper. I turned away from Alejandro, my hand fisted against my thigh; I just wanted the visions to stop invading me so violently. His fingertips brush across my knuckles as he slipped his hand over mine. Affected by his touch, a growing craving burned low in my stomach; I let his fingers slowly tangle with mine. A comfort flooded my body as he caressed his thumb across my thigh. I was able to close my eyes for the last couple of turns to his house. Maybe humanity did exist in my world.

  It was only eleven forty-five in the morning when Alejandro pulled me from the car. The sun stung my tear-soaked eyes as I looked up at him. The choice of the white clinging t-shirt was for not. Blood-soaked stains dotted the collar and down the front of it. I didn’t want to own any part of this nightmare anymore. The only solace I clung to rested in the eyes of the man that was holding me as we entered his house.

  “Lauren, I’m calling my physician. I want him to tell me you are okay.”

  “You don’t have to do that, I’m fine,” I insisted.

  “I’ll call him; he can be here quick.”

  “No, please I’m fine,” I pushed and started getting upset. I wasn’t going to let just anyone exam my body now. Who knew what doctors would see or find out with me having this thing in my head? Besides, Alejandro was convinced that my collapse was due to hitting my head. He didn’t know about the blowup between Roger and me.

  Alejandro gave me the once over as his unconvinced expression broke to frustration. “Okay, fine, I will let you win … this time. However, I insist you rest and let me take care of you,” he said as he closed the front door and slipped his hand comfortably across the small of my back and led me up a massive staircase.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  “My bedroom, so you can rest. I want to get you a clean shirt.”

  He swung the door open to his bedroom. It was modest, masculine, sexy, and called my name as I shuffled my heavy feet through the threshold. Brown suede-textured walls hugged me as he pulled me in. Piles of different shaped pillows innocently invited me to his massive king-sized bed, draped with a burgundy comforter.

  “Go on … I’ll let you rest in my bed.”

  I turned around and gave him a long gaze. He nodded to me before he held his hand out.

  “Nothing more than me offering you a place to recover before I take you back to your hotel room.”

  I sat on the edge of his bed, restlessly bouncing my knee while he made his way to his walk-in-closet and came back with a button-up white long sleeve shirt and held it to his chest.

  “Is this ok?”

  “That’s one of your dress shirts; don’t you have a tee-sh
irt or something?”

  “No, this is what you’ll wear.”

  I gave him a startled glance. His words rubbed at that place inside me that piqued my defenses.

  “What if I refuse?” I quipped.

  He looked at me questioningly, like he didn’t understand my response.

  “Lauren, why do you keep refusing me when my only concern is you? I didn’t think you’d want to pull a tee-shirt over your head. That’s all.”

  He tossed the shirt to the bed; it bellowed a slow dance before it landed. A moment of time dangled clumsily between us. “Good. I will be downstairs if you need me.” He made sure our eyes met and then closed the door behind him.

  I pulled my t-shirt off over my head and felt the cling of the shirt push on my cheek. Pain shot across my face.

  I walked to the full length mirror and didn’t recognize the shirtless body that stared back at me. She had bruises and cuts on her face and down her rib cage, evidence of Samantha’s rage. She looked pale and meek. Her hair was messy, clumped and dark. It took me a second to pull myself into the body that stared back in the mirror. I noticed a door open behind me, it was the master bathroom. My body craved to feel clean again. I pushed open the bathroom and was instantly consumed by a whirlwind of peace.

  Enormous slabs of dark brown marble, tangled with rusty red and gold lines, embraced me as I curved my way to the center of the huge shower. It was spacious enough for four people with room left over. Deliberate pocket shelves were concaved into the wall to hold soap and shampoo while a solid black granite bench protruded from the back wall. The brass shower heads were deliberately mounted every three feet, one for every section of my body. I tugged off my remaining clothes, found a drawer to put my weapons in and pushed the faucet handles to hot. I began to relax into the water that poured over my head, pressed down my back and pulsated on my thighs. Steam pushed its way up and out the top of the shower as I kept turning my body. All the different shower heads were heating every inch of my body; it was relaxing and stimulating, confusing my senses.

  I fantasized how the water that ran down my spine were his hands finding the curve of my waist. I turned toward the rush of the spray that was his breath as it warmed the space below my breasts. The stream of water that trickled down my face was his wet lips pressed hot against mine as they found their way to my neck and down to my chest. I turned, letting the hot water press on the back of my spine as I pulled my hair away. I felt warm pressure push on the inside of my arms and down to my thighs like he was memorizing my body.

  I dragged my hand across my stomach, fielding the desire to satisfy the ache that raged between my legs when I heard the bathroom door slide open. My heart dropped when I heard it shut with a click.

  “Lauren, I brought you fresh towels,” Alejandro called to me. His Spanish accent mingled with the water as it slammed against my skin.

  “Thanks. I hope you don’t mind that I jumped into your shower,” I replied, as I peeked out from around the corner.

  “Please take your time,” he answered, looking at me. I felt the temperature in the room rise and I was suddenly aware of the water that found its way to the inside of my thighs. I pushed my face back into the shower and waited for the door to close.

  Even though my body didn’t want to leave the sensual haven created by Alejandro’s shower, I hurried to finish. I grabbed at the towels he set out for me, and wrapped up my body and hair before I regretfully stepped out of my fantasy.

  When I noticed the pile of clothes I left in the middle of the bathroom floor were gone, I went in search for them; that’s when I noticed a pair of silk boxers on the bed, folded and neatly placed next to the shirt he had picked out for me to wear. Every warning light and siren went off in my head and I had played right into his hand. I had allowed his actions to effortlessly pull me into his world. Every ounce of my intuition was screaming for me to question his motives and yet my carnal desire to touch him, taste him, and feel him was ruling my body.

  I un-wrapped the towel from my body and pulled my legs through the warm soft boxers. I rolled the band down a couple of times to make them tight around my waist. I snatched the see-through white button-up shirt and swung it around my body. The scent pushed toward me, thrusting at my soul. His shirt caressed my skin as I slid so comfortably into it. I tugged at the edges, pulling it to wrap tight around my chest before I dragged my fingers across the edges and buttoned it. I rolled the sleeves as I went back into the bathroom.

  I looked in the mirror, seeing what I had become, damaged by the events that made up the last couple of days. Even though my face was clean, it was not free from the wounds beginning to heal. A wave of disappointment pushed its way into my mind about Roger. The anger in his voice at my innocent mistake with Samantha sent jolts of guilt and pain through my body. He didn’t even let me apologize for my mistake, he just pushed me away. My arms became heavy and the space that hurt so deep within my soul began to churn. I didn’t deserve to be treated that way. I thought about Roger and how angry he was this morning. All the insecure feelings of inadequacy and loss began to fill my body. I could feel the lonely, lost woman I was so many years ago, pushing to be healed. I was desperate to be held and made whole again. I dropped my hands to the vanity and I fought to take a deep breath.

  “Lauren?” Alejandro’s voice mused through the bedroom door as he knocked lightly.

  “Yeah?” I answered startled. I froze waiting to hear if he was going to answer.

  “Are you decent? May I come in?” his voice permeated the door.

  “Yes, come in,” I answered quickly.

  His hands were full with a tray overflowing with fresh fruit and a bottle of mineral water. He walked over and placed it on the foot of the bed.

  “I thought you might be a little hungry,” he said with his back to me. I stared at him, blinking to keep from having tears converge in my eyes.

  “Thank you.”

  He turned toward me and froze. His eyes slowly caressed their way from my feet up to my face; soaking in every curve and bend, overflowing my body with warmth. I felt his desire fill the room and rake my body, as the most private places in me ached to be touched and filled by him. He didn’t say anything as he gradually sauntered his way toward me. The space between us became non-existent. He let out a low visceral breath as he reached for the collar of my shirt. I noticed his jaw flex and roll as he tilted his head to one side and pulled the back of my collar free. I felt his shirt drag across my hardened nipples. I was vibrating inside; I ached to feel him touch me, placate that lonely girl that resided somewhere between desperate and durable. I wanted him.

  “Your collar is tucked under. Now we can’t have that, can we?” he said through a whisper. His hands, warm against my neck, induced a shiver down my spine, collecting between my legs. He was the perfect diversion I needed to fill a vacancy I didn’t want.

  My mouth watering, I parted my lips enough to take in his aroma. I felt a bone shattering chill as the tip of his nose brushed across my ear. He pushed his lips against the pulse in my neck before making his way to the edge of my jaw. Every nerve fired sparks that flooded the space deep in my stomach. His hands clung below my shoulder blades. He plucked his lips from my flesh.

  “I want you,” he whispered as his eyes caught mine.

  Speechless in his wake, there was nothing I was willing to question about his plan to use me.

  “I can’t,” I breathed. God knows I wanted to taste him and I ached to have him quench the desire burning inside of me; but, I had to be smart; I had to stop what was happening between us before we went too far.

  “Lauren, let me take care of you.” His eyes danced with mine as he flashed his smoldering smile, tearing me open to his charm. His fingers pushed at my cheek before he stroked his thumb delicately across my bottom lip. “I want to taste you from here down,” he breathed and I melted.

  My knees weakened and my head swam with images of him taking me to places I hadn’t been in years. My bre
ath quickened as he pressed his lips against mine. I kissed him back as my body was answering his plea.

  Alejandro pulled his mouth slightly from mine and I felt his breath tickle my lips as he asked me again. “Do you want me, Lauren?”

  I swallowed resting my forehead against his, our lips barely touching as I nodded.

  “I want to hear you say it. Say it, Lauren, tell me you want me to taste you from here down to there,” he murmured as his hand traced from my lips, across my body, down below my navel until his fingertips brushed across the silky boxers I was wearing. My hips automatically swayed against his fingers as they lingered down between my legs.

  He had me. I wanted him. Every moment of lonely I had lived surged through every sensual part of my body … I needed him to take me.

  “Yes,” I huffed as I pushed my mouth against his.

  His large strong hand anchored to the back of my neck as he urged me to open my mouth with his tongue. Kissing me vigorously as my hands tangled in his hair and he pulled me closer as his erection hardened against my stomach. He tasted so sweet, better than I had imagined. He kissed down the front of my neck across to the hollow of my collarbone. I arched my shoulders and leaned my head back inviting him to continue. I closed my eyes, my breath caught as I ached for him to take me where ever he was willing to go.

  Alejandro picked me up and carried me to the bed. His eyes fixed on mine; god, I wanted him. I wanted him more than I ever thought I’d want someone ever again. I shivered, longing to feel him against me; feel him press so hard that I’d lose my breath and get lost in his touch.

  “You cold?” he breathed.

  “No,” I whispered.

  He gently laid me on the bed, his mouth finding its way back to my lips. I tugged at his buttons trying to take off his shirt. I needed to feel his chest, his pulse, and kiss his scorching flesh. He dragged his lips from mine with a low hum and backed off me just enough to make me ache.

  My eyes sprang open as he stared at me. My hands empty, frozen in the air, begging to be captured by his strong grip. My heart throbbed loudly, waiting for him to touch my skin. His arms on either side of me, pressing into the bed, flexing, I could see he was going to say something.

 

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