“This is cash deal sweetie give me the account details and your laptop so I can pay you please.” I say it as loud as I can just to get a rise out of her colleagues. Oh and it does the one even spills his coffee. Looks can be deceiving assholes.
“Here you go Sir,” she swings her laptop to face me with a smile as big as they get flashing across her face and a blush rising on her cheeks. She knows exactly what I just did and it’s making her hot. Her pouty pink lips are begging to be kissed as she smiles at me over her desk, I know she is eye fucking me.
“Tell you what, sweetie you deliver the car and I will get you back here. You can just follow me when we done.”
“Umm, that’s not company policy Sir, I will arrange…” I don’t let her finish her flustered reply, not in the mood to be denied what I want today and I want in those pretty little panties and I am going to get in them.
“I can just go to another dealership where they give the customer what they ask? You will follow me in the car.”
Her big eyes rake over me I know she is undressing me with her eyes. She is at least considering it. Oh I caught you looking earlier Barbie doll, I like what I see too.
“Umm, OK sir I am sure I can accommodate that for you.” Her blush returns to her cheeks as she starts to fill out the forms for the sale of the car.
I have told you before I am a bad man. While we sign papers I text a company driver from the estate to be on standby to return my little Barbie Doll when I am done with her. I am going to fuck her senseless and send her packing. My cock hasn’t seen action since Ellia arrived at the estate and I need the release. I need to just try be my normal self and this might just help me.
We conclude the deal and I make a point of shoving it under the noses of the salesmen who judged me when I walked in that I am taking her details and making arrangements for her to put a sales package together for my company fleet at the estate. You boys will pay for judging me.
Sales Barbie follows me to Franschoek in Ellia’s new car. I can hardly concentrate on the road I have such a hard on between the pain from my scalding hot tattooed skin and the thought of being balls deep in the petite sales girl who is driving way too fast behind me. Fuck
ELLIA
“The universe wrote fiction in us, it’s called fear”.
~Christopher Poindexter
I am awake. I didn’t die. Oh God why? Why can’t you just let me die? Then it comes crashing down on me like a wave knocking you under in the ocean. I can’t breathe I cannot come up for air the current is pulling me further under. Rowan saw me, he saw all of me and even he ran away. I know he has seen all the horrible things the world has to offer I am no fool I know Rowan is a killer but maybe he has a soul like my Dad did maybe he is bad but not evil. He ran away when he saw my ugly, he couldn’t even face the truth of what has been done to me, the man who faces death every day.
I am definitely alone right now I can sense there is no one here there is an absolute stillness in the house, not a sound from anywhere. I am still naked except for my undies. I bolt out of the bed to cover my body with my discarded PJ’s off the floor. I hate seeing my body. I hate even more that Rowan has seen it. His voice paralyzed my thoughts with fear and I just obeyed. Like I had been taught to for eight years I obeyed. Do as you are told and you won’t hurt for as long.
I am so glad I am alone right now. I don’t want to see Rowan’s eyes now that he has seen my truth. How weak am I to have caved in and told him, worse showed him what Renzo has done to me. I want to die. Now more than ever. I just want it all to end I cannot be fixed. I don’t want to be fixed I want to be dead really dead not this dead. The worst thing is that after I tried to take my own life the beating Renzo gave me was so bad that my brain just won’t let me kill myself even if I want to, I have tried but I cannot do it. The fear of what will happen if I am somehow saved again is worse than not dying. Fear, fear cripples me. Pain doesn’t even hurt anymore, physical pain that is. I have become hard to the beating and burns and blades. But the fear the feeling of dread of anticipating that pain is the worst feeling in the world even now. Here safe in my home with Rowan I fear that he will know that I am alive and he will find me and that he will come for me. He couldn’t kill me himself the bastard he hired Rowan to do it. He didn’t need the unwanted attention of a murdered wife; an accident was much easier to explain to his fake friends and rotten fucking family. Coward. A murdered wife would be bad for his precious business image.
The shame of Rowan seeing my half naked body is nowhere near as bad as seeing how my secret became his burden how it morphed into his rage and how it scared him enough to make him run away. Yet setting my secret free didn’t free me as I thought it would. I still want to die. I am ashamed of my scars and of my body. Only my face is truly free of Renzo’s signature. But the scars on my heart and in my brain will be the hardest to forget. In fact the physical pain had become a relief over the years because if all I could feel was pain I could ignore the words slicing through my soul and the soul shattering reality of losing six babies. The physical pain made me live in that moment in only that pain for just a while each time before the agony of my reality would overtake the pain. I relished that pain in the end so much it was scary. I prayed for the physical pain because I knew just maybe it would kill me. I wanted to be hurt because I wanted to die. I am too broken to fix.
I slink back to my room and get dressed in some clothes and I go do the one thing that I love. The one thing that is mine alone. I cook. Renzo learnt quickly how much I loved to cook so he stopped me. He hired in a cook and banned me from the kitchen. Just one way he broke me even more. But here I can cook as much as I want. God knows Rowan certainly can’t cook for shit. In my manic cooking frenzy I decide to cook a real meal for him. There isn’t too much in the way of ingredients in the kitchen but any chef worth their whites can make a meal from almost nothing. There is something about being in the kitchen that puts me in another world. I turn Rowan’s pitiful excuse for an pantry upside down and decide on making a simple Arabiatta Pasta and some simple apple and cinnamon crepes for dessert. There is a lot of whiskey in the pantry and a few bottles of our estate wine. I open one to cook with and one to drink while I cook. Rowan clearly eats scotch since aside from that and the few ingredients I scrounged together to make pasta the place is empty; he really needs to go shopping. I am afraid to even look in the freezer in case something jumps out and attacks me. I am feeling a whole lot better than I have in years actually as a move with ease through the kitchen. The smells and tastes and sounds of the food have me in my own little world. One that I actually like. I am on my third glass of wine and enjoying myself when I see an iPod docked in the corner, I can’t help myself I snoop through Rowan’s play list, God he likes sad music, I pick a play list that is not all going to make me want to slit my wrists all over again and turn it up loud.
I am enjoying my wine, dancing around the kitchen mixing the crepe batter and actually having fun. I forgot how it felt to have fun I haven’t had fun in a very long time. The music is loud enough to raise the dead but I am enjoying Rowan’s somewhat questionable taste in music. My pasta sauce tastes amazing, I just wish I could get out the back door and pick some of the fresh herbs I can see to make it perfect. The water is boiling for the pasta and I am well on my way to making the apple filling for the crepes. The smell of warm apple and cinnamon has filled the whole house and its making me even hungrier for the food I am cooking. I check the expiry date on the pasta before I put it in the pot just to be sure it looked like no one had been in the pantry in a year or ever.
While the Pasta boils I go and set the small kitchen table under the window. I fetch another bottle of wine and open it to breathe while I finish cooking dinner. I don’t know when Rowan will get home he seems to have no schedule really. I drain the pasta mix it with the sauce all ready to serve, I would give an arm for the fresh basil outside the window right now.
&n
bsp; I am dancing around flipping crepes like a pro when I look up and see Rowan leaning on the island watching me with raised eyebrows and a cocky smile on his face. A smile that reaches his eyes.
I feel like I really am home. I don’t want to die right now. Just for right now I am perfectly fine just living.
ROWAN
“Laughter is brightest where the food is best.”
~Irish Proverb
I can hear music from outside the house already she is obviously up and found one of my iPods. My shirt is stinging against the rawness of my new tattoos as I get out of the car in the garage. Good she won’t hear us over the music; she cannot get into the garage yet anyways. Why do I care if she hears us, I need this, this is me, this is my normal. Sales Barbie pulls into the empty spot next to my car and I push the button to close the door plunging us into darkness. I am rock hard just thinking of this sweet little body I’m about to claim. She walks right up to me touching my very sensitive chest and holds up the keys in front of my face. She is little minx this one, maybe this is how she makes her sales after all. My cock twitches at her touch on my raw painful skin. I turn her around and push her face down roughly onto my driver’s seat. There will be nothing gentle about this at all I plan to fuck her and send her home. I know my driver is already waiting on the other side of the door to take her away when I am done. I heard his tyres crunching on the gravel of the driveway as I closed the door.
“No screaming, do you understand me?” I whisper into her ear as I push her too tight pencil skirt up over her cute little heart shaped ass. She nods into the car seat. I need this, I keep telling myself this is exactly what I need.
“I am going to fuck you, it will be so good you will be ruined for a while after this, and then you are going to go. We understand each other? Do you want me to fuck you little princess?” I ask her as I stroke my fingers over her drenched undies. Oh she wants me to I can feel it but I have to hear her say it. I am a murderer not a rapist. She nods. No Barbie Doll I need to hear it.
“Tell me princess, I want you tell me you want to be fucked right now.” I growl into her ear needing this to hurry up.
“Fuck me please, please just do it already.” She was begging me all out of breath and hot under her collar. That made me even harder. Oh I definitely needed this.
I run my hands up the backs of her nicely toned thighs and again brush against her dripping pussy. I use both hands to tear her excuse for underwear off eliciting a gasp from her dirty little mouth. I push her head into the seat with my hand. It covers most of her pretty little face and I shh her. I use my other hand to slowly finger her hot little snatch. Fuck she is dripping wet and clearly enjoying being man handled by me. I withdraw my finger and she moans a little, I just push harder on her head while loosening my belt and pants freeing my cock from its prison. Before my little Barbie doll knows what’s hit her I am balls deep, I move my hand over her mouth gaging the sounds she is already making as she adjusts to the assault of my cock in her. I don’t give her time to think as I begin to thrust hard as I can holding her sweet little hips in place with my free hand. I feel her convulsing against my cock and I know it won’t take much at all to get this little one to purr. I fuck her harder slamming her against the side of the car seat her knees banging on the running boards. That will leave a mark I am sure. I see tears from the corner of her eyes and that send me over the edge I lean into her ear and whisper
“Come, come for me now little princess.”
Oh and she does. A responsive little thing this as I feel her orgasm taking her over the edge I pull out and come all over her sweet little ass. I needed that release that raw feeling of control and pleasure. I let her face go when I am sure she will shut up. I pull her skirt down over her cum covered ass and open the garage door. I leave her standing there as I zip up and enter my study from the door inside the garage. The driver will take her home. I love the look on her face as she realises I just used her. I used her sweet body for myself and she liked it. Slut.
I enter the house from the garage into my study, it used to be the TV lounge but I couldn’t face working in Mick’s office so I claimed this space and I like that I can come in here from the garage. My new artwork is bleeding through my shirt and I can feel it is wet on my shoulder and down the right side of my back. I think Robin got a little carried away today.
I am instantly overwhelmed by the smell of food, good food, and real food home cooked food. She is cooking. I don’t want to disturb her so I stay in the study as long as I can. I remove my offending shirt and sit at my desk, I open a few emails and reply before I just can’t wait anymore my stomach is rumbling with hunger at the smells coming from the kitchen beyond my door. I haven’t eaten since my breakfast with Callum this morning and I am starving.
I open the door quietly and walk out into the kitchen, Lauri doesn’t see me, she is dancing and flipping pancakes I think the music is so loud nothing could disturb her. I lean on the island and I watch her, she is amazing to watch in the kitchen. She is oblivious to what just went on in the garages. The thought makes me smile a little, I needed that. I feel almost like me again.
I remember watching her cook at culinary school and my smile grows even bigger. She hasn’t lost all of herself after all.
The smells coming from my underutilized kitchen are amazing and I wonder where she found anything to cook at all. She is sipping on a glass of our estate wine, it’s not terrible and we actually make some money from it. Her lips are perfect on the edge of the glass as she swallows blood coloured wine I can almost see it flow down her throat the way she tilts her head back to get the last drop. My smile doesn’t disappear as I watch her wiggle and dance while she cooks with her heart out. She hasn’t noticed me yet and I am enjoying this side of her immensely. I see her clothed body moving as if it isn’t broken at all and I am amazed at how strong she really is.
Busted. Her eyes meet mine as she drops a pancake on the floor. She just smiles and retrieves it, tossing it in the open dustbin. I cannot wipe the smile off my face and I don’t want too. She is amazing.
She pours more batter in her pan not bothered by my presence at all and simply carries on her cooking. There is no point in talking the music is too loud to hear anything else so I just stand and watch her for a while longer. Her fluid movements and absolute confidence are so polar opposite to the woman that splintered into a thousand pieces on my bedroom floor only hours ago. I am drawn to this woman the one dancing around my kitchen with a pan in her hand. I walk around the island to join her in the kitchen, maybe I can help. Who am I kidding, help I can’t cook for shit she said so herself. But somehow I want to be closer. As soon as I enter her bubble though she stiffens and stops dancing, I have ruined her moment I am an idiot. She turns the music soft enough to be able to talk.
“Can I help?” I stupidly ask not knowing what else to say, she bursts out laughing the same belly laughter as the day she arrived it’s a truly beautiful sound. She just shakes her head at me. I guess I can’t help then. I laugh with her and lean against the sink. “No I am almost done; Rowan then we can sit and eat some real food.”
She has noticed my shirtlessness now and has her eyes glued to my tattoos and chest. She shakes her head finding my eyes again, “Go sit, I will bring the food now, you are home earlier than I thought you would be, but the pasta is ready.” She motions to the small table under the windows that is set with glasses and all.
I walk over and sit down not taking my eyes off her for a second. I expected to find her where I left her this morning; she seemed to be beyond repair when I saw her last night.
I feel a bit naked without a shirt but I cannot get myself to leave her and go get one. I hope she can’t smell the sex on me, because I can still smell Barbie. Her sickly sweet perfume hangs onto me clawing to my skin. I want a shower but I want food more. My stomach protests its emptiness again loudly this time. Her eyes shoot up to me and she g
iggles. I am so hungry.
Ellia brings two plates piled with pasta to the table and sits opposite me. The smell of the amazing fresh sauce fills my nostrils and I am suddenly even more ravenous. I pour wine in both our glasses.
“God this smells so good I am starving. Thank you. You know you look pretty amazing when you cook.” Her eyes are all over my body and not on my eyes again. I can see her scanning every inch of art. I cough to get her attention. This woman is making me self-conscious and it’s confusing me.
“Sorry, it’s a pleasure I just thought since you can’t cook I’d better before we both actually starve to death.” Her eyes wonder again as I laugh at her response. I can’t wait any longer and I take a fork full of the steaming hot pasta and begin eating. It is so good, oh God I really cannot cook this is amazing. She still hasn’t had a bite when I realize she is still staring. Her hazel eyes are glued to me, her face is searching for answers on my skin somehow, she twists her hair between her fingers then tucks it behind her ear. I have to make her stop I feel strange, this is creepy.
“Should I um… Go put a shirt on maybe so you can eat this amazing food you cooked us?” She blushes bright red I want so bad to laugh at her right now but I am enjoying how uncomfortable I make her. She takes a bite of food and ignores me at little. But I see her brain ticking over in those stunning hazel eyes.
“Do they hurt?” She asks after swallowing her food.
“I mean I know they hurt but how bad? Are those flaming red edges new ones? Is that where you were all day?” She fires her questions one after another not giving me a chance to answer till she has spewed them all out. She clearly hasn’t had anyone to talk to in a while her conversational skills are a bit wild.
“Yes they are new, yes that’s where I was amongst other places and yes they hurt. Nothing like any of the hurt you have felt but it’s a pain I have come to enjoy almost crave really.” She drinks my answers in I can see her contemplating each answer carefully. No response on the matter though I told her what she wanted to know now she is done talking. I almost wish she left the music on this is just uncomfortable. I go back to shovelling the amazing pasta down my throat to avoid the awkwardness of it all. I am not a people person but this is just weird. I am not used to sharing my space, my meal times or my home with anyone.
Colour My Ugly Page 9
