by Anne Marck
“I’ll keep an eye on him,” I promise the pastor, who nods, putting an end to the matter for now. Then we turn our attention to the hall, where at least two hundred people are eating.
“You seem distant tonight. Is something wrong?”
I breathe deeply. Yes, something’s wrong. I can’t stop thinking about the runaway with fiery hair.
“The Rockefeller job. We need more people if we wanna finish the houses on time. The salary isn’t attractive, so a lot of the guys quit.” Which isn’t a lie. It’s just another problem that I’ll have to deal with tomorrow.
“How many guys do you need?” he inquires.
“Maybe ten more.”
He nods once. “I’ll check at the church. By the way, when are you going to accept my invitation to visit the cult?”
I try not to laugh. Simon has been inviting me to church for years. For some reason, I’ve never been interested.
I shrug. “Maybe one day.”
• • •
I come home with an unfamiliar feeling in my stomach. I climb the steps two at a time, anxious to know if she has complied with the agreement.
The living room is empty.
I walk silently toward my bedroom and find her asleep. A sigh of relief is released from my chest. Fuck, I shouldn’t feel this way.
Without making a sound, I go to my closet, pull out a pair of sweatpants, then leave the room. In the bathroom, I take a long, cold shower, trying to get my mind in order.
How many days will it take for Luna to get well? Where will she go? This isn’t my problem …
It’s difficult to accept that.
After my shower, I put on some pants and rub the towel over my hair. It’s time to cut it. Sophie asked me to grow it out, said it would look good.
I should call her. It’s been some time since we met up. Abstinence isn’t healthy and is probably why I’m acting like this, with dirty thoughts about a certain pair of challenging blue eyes.
Wake up, Dominic! She’s just a kid!
I dry my beard in front of the mirror, thinking it’s high time to shave it. Then I hang the towel on the shower door, open the bathroom door, and bump into the girl.
I cast my eyes down to see her fully. She’s wearing slippers and a pair of sweatpants that Simone brought her. Strangely, though, she’s still wearing my sweater. When I get to her face, I realize that her glazed eyes are on my damp chest. Hell! Living alone after so many years has made me accustomed to not wearing T-shirts around the house.
I clear my throat, drawing her attention to my face. I don’t miss the faint blush on her cheeks.
“I-I need to pee,” she stammers, embarrassed by being taken by surprise.
I step aside, leaving the door open. “Sorry for the delay. I’m going to grab a T-shirt from my room,” I say gruffly, also embarrassed by the situation.
She nods but doesn’t move. So I do, going around her and entering my room, hating the way her gaze warmed my body so quickly.
Luna
I go into the bathroom and lock the door, hiding behind it. I touch my cheeks. They’re hot, and I know it isn’t from fever. God, I couldn’t look away from him. Dominic is a very handsome guy—I already noticed this—but nothing compares to seeing him up close. All those tattoos, the visible contours of his muscles. He looks like one of those men in the magazines that Baba collected. Personally, I’ve never seen anyone like him. In fact, I’ve never seen a man like that literally.
Until a few days ago, I was nothing more than a nerd prepared to graduate with a degree in architecture. One more semester, and I would have a degree. I lived to study and didn’t have time for a social life. At twenty-one, I haven’t so much as had one boyfriend, contradictory to all other girls my age. My mother was protective, so to speak, and kept me under her wings. She just didn’t know that she should have protected us from the greedy man she married.
My mother is now gone, and I almost died with her. He has attempted to kill me twice now, and all for money. Now I find myself in this situation, hidden in the house of this unknown man … who somehow makes me feel safe.
I press my nose against the sweater and inhale deeply. It smells like a mix of clean soap, citrus, and masculine cologne. I absorb his scent, letting it penetrate my system, calming me for just a moment. Dominic’s presence is good for me.
I do what I came to do then leave the bathroom and see him in the living room, walking to and fro, now wearing a T-shirt. I feel bad for taking his privacy away.
Dominic
Contrary to what I expected, Luna doesn’t go back to the bedroom, but joins me in the living room.
“You didn’t eat,” I say in a low tone, not sure how to act in her presence.
She sits on the arm of the sofa in front of me. “I wanted to wait for you.” The tone is delicate, free of all defiance. Her attitude confuses me.
“Why?” I ask.
She shrugs.
I keep my hands in my jeans pockets and look at her to make sure she isn’t delirious again. The deep blue eyes fixed on me express that she’s apparently not.
“All right … I … um … I’ll warm up your plate.” Feeling uncomfortable, I go into the kitchen.
I open the refrigerator and pull out a beer. Of course, I don’t intend to offer her one and run the risk of offering alcohol to a minor. Then I take her plate to the table and call for her.
“Aren’t you gonna eat?” she asks, sounding disappointed.
I sit down in front of her. “I’ve already eaten,” I lie before sipping my drink.
I usually skip dinner, after dealing with all that food in the center.
She shakes her head then looks down at her plate. “I’m sorry I went through the garbage,” she whispers.
I pause with the beer halfway to my mouth and cast a glance at her. “You don’t have to apologize for that, Luna,” I say firmly. Hunger isn’t shameful.
She worries her lower lip between her teeth. “I-I don’t wanna cause any problems in your life. You buying all these clothes and the medicine … taking your room.” She finally looks at me. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
“You can thank me by staying here until you’re well.”
Luna nods slightly. “I just don’t wanna disturb your life.” Her eyes return to the plate.
“You aren’t,” I tell her.
Dominic
Three days go by with a kind of routine between us. On Monday and Tuesday, I left for work at about six in the morning, then hurried home at some point in the afternoon, and then stayed at the community center until midnight. I saw her awake for a few minutes, but when I got home, she was already asleep.
According to Simone, who has been there to check on her, Luna is recovering well from her injuries. The inflammation in her stitches has reduced, the fever hasn’t returned, and she says she doesn’t feel any more pain. She never tells me what made her run away.
Watching her sleep has become a bad but irresistible habit. Tonight isn’t any different. I get caught up, looking like a fucking voyeur, sitting silently on the edge of the bed where she sleeps. Unable to contain myself, I let my fingers slip through her soft, fiery hair, pushing it away from her face. She looks like a wild yet innocent angel. Her lips have a perfect outline and the freckles give her a sweet air of naivety. A very dangerous mix.
What am I thinking? I’m thirty-two years old, established in my preferences. I like mature women. I shouldn’t even consider anything with a girl who is possibly underage.
“Dominic,” she mutters under her breath.
Damn. Caught, I’m paralyzed with my hand in her hair.
Her eyes remain closed.
Wait. Is she sleeping?
I tilt my head to the side and touch her forehead to verify there isn’t a fever.
Is she … dreaming about me?
I wait to be sure and … Yes, she’s asleep.
I let all the air drain from my lungs and rub my face with both hands.
&n
bsp; I’m about to get up and leave when something gets my attention. A little piece of fabric sticking out from under the pillow. I touch the material then pull lightly. It’s my sweater, crumpled in her hand. Why is she holding on to it like it means something to her?
I leave the room. I don’t like how I feel about this girl. I must stop these thoughts. I think Simone’s right. I’ve been working too hard lately. I need to get out, relax a little. That must be the problem.
I hesitate before typing a message to Sophie, who answers me right away. As we arrange to meet tomorrow, I convince myself that this will be good.
• • •
After a long day at work and a rare day off from the community center, I head straight for Sophie’s house. I don’t even need to ring the bell, because she’s already at the door, welcoming me with her easy smile.
Sophie is gorgeous, with black skin, beautiful curves, and an aura that makes everyone feel good in her presence. She chose to be a social worker due to the hard life she had. I admire her for it.
We met two and a half years ago through Pastor Simon, on a project for street kids. We instantly became friends. Then we discovered a particular way to blow off steam together. It works well for the both of us.
“I’ve been thinking of you, Dom.” She gives me a sweet kiss. “I haven’t seen you in a while. How are you doing?”
“Living, you know,” I say, putting my hand on her little waist. “And you?”
Those brown eyes narrow, analyzing my face for a moment, until a tired sigh comes out of her full lips. “Living, too. Would you like something to drink?” she asks softly.
“Shower first, then that would be great,” I answer with a half-smile, not having the will to talk.
“Do you want company?”
“Always.”
• • •
“Turn around,” I demand.
Still under the effects of her release from less than two minutes ago, Sophie obeys my command.
I find her center with my thumb and rub the sensitive flesh. Then I slap her ass, and she moans loudly while more moisture drips through her delicious slit. I pull a condom wrapper from the pocket of my jeans lying on the floor, tear it open with my teeth, and then wrap my erection. Placing my cock at her entrance, I sink deeply inside her warm walls and have to clench my jaw at the sensation.
When I glide out, Sophie whimpers at the absence. I sink in again harder, keeping myself under control when I feel starved and close to losing all my willpower, but I have to prolong the moment after going too long without it.
“Dominic!” she screams in ecstasy, and I grab her hair in my fist, holding her immobile for my blows.
I bend over her, pressing my sweaty chest against her back, and bite the skin of her neck, making the woman thrash under me.
“I’m getting there, Dom … Almost there.” Her moan only encourages me further.
Sophie tries to take over the rhythm, pressing her ass against me, wanting my full length. In return, I mark her flesh with another slap. That’s why we fit so well. She likes what I give her.
“Dom!” Her bellow echoes throughout the room.
“What do you want, Sophie?” I tease.
Her long brown fingers tighten their hold of the sheet. “I need …” Her ass collides harder against me, searching for a climax, and I pick up the pace, fucking her harder.
I know exactly when another climax strikes her. The woman roars like a lioness.
I pinch her rigid nipples and see her turn delirious, disintegrating on all fours before me.
Fucking more rapidly, my control begins to slip into ruins when a pair of eccentric blue eyes and wild, fiery hair invades my mind, tearing into my soul with the most intense release I’ve ever had.
Damn, I came at the thought of the innocent girl. What does this make me? Depraved?
• • •
I walk into my dark apartment, leave the keys on the living room table, and sit on the sofa without turning on any of the lights. I check the time on my phone. It’s almost four in the morning. I have time for a quick nap before work. The problem is that I didn’t sleep after all the sex. The damn guilt was stabbing me in the chest. To think about Luna at that time was inappropriate on so many levels …
I rest my head on the sofa and cover my eyes with my forearm. Only then do I notice a soft sound cutting the silence. She seems to groan—in pain, perhaps?
Immediately, my body’s in a state of alert. I jump off the sofa, and before I can think about it, I’m pushing my bedroom door open and … fuck!
The girl is restless, turning back and forth, sweating, moaning, and murmuring incoherently. I approach her, putting my hand on her forehead. Shit, her temperature rose again.
“Luna,” I call out worriedly.
In the middle of her delirium, she doesn’t answer me. I can’t help noticing that my sweater is clinging to her damp body, but it’s the low crying that breaks me.
I think of calling Simone, but it’s too late and the poor woman needs her rest. There’s no other choice; I have to take Luna to a hospital. Her condition is too dire.
“Baby, please wake up,” I whisper, my throat tight.
I wrestle her body into my arms, feeling her back is drenched from sweat.
Before I have time to react, she tosses her head forward and vomits all over herself and partially on my chest.
“Dominic,” she moans, but I can’t tell if she’s fully conscious.
Not knowing what to do, I carry her into the shower, undress her carefully, and then throw my dirty T-shirt on top of her garments. Holding her lax body, I regulate the water temperature and hold her under the lukewarm water.
“Talk to me, baby,” I whisper hoarsely. “It’s me. Talk to me.”
“Dominic,” she whispers, looking straight at me, her eyes reddened and feverish.
“I need to take you to a hospital, Luna. You’re not well,” I say softly, washing the vomit out of her hair.
“I can’t,” she cries softly. “Please don’t take me there.”
I tighten my jaw, feeling my teeth grind with the force. What I would give to rid her of all this fear.
“Nobody will hurt you,” I promise, choked up.
“He’ll find me.” Her tone is a faint supplication.
My muscles knot up. Who is he? Who could want to hurt a girl?
I’m at a goddamn crossroads, not sure what to do.
I finish bathing her then wrap her curled-up body in a towel and take her back to the bed. She’s now a little more conscious.
Dressing fast, I throw on a shirt and a pair of sweatpants then return to her.
“You need a doctor, Luna.” I keep my tone serious, not wanting to give away my fear.
“I’ll be fine,” she mutters, sitting up on the bed, head down.
I can’t tell if she’s completely lucid. I take a minute to look at the bruised, fragile girl. Then I sigh and rub my beard, unhappy with this situation.
Forcing myself to swallow the bitter taste of wanting to protect her with my own hands, snatch her from the illness with my will alone, I turn toward the closet to the clothes that I asked Simone to buy her. A light pink flannel pajama set, matching her virginal appearance …
Hell, where are these thoughts coming from?
“Put your arms up,” I say.
She complies, dropping the bath towel that covered her body.
I look away from her breasts and concentrate on dressing her. With her shaky help, I put on her pajama pants, ignoring the fact that she’s not wearing panties. I just want her covered; never mind the nakedness under the clothes.
As I touch her forehead, I notice there’s been a drop in temperature.
“I’ll get a glass of water and your medicine.”
I’m back as fast as I can to find her exactly as I left her.
With great difficulty, she swallows two of the pills. Then I help her dry her hair with the towel and comb it back. Her tired, patient face relaxes
while I work, and soon the strands have a better appearance. Then I arrange some pillows, deciding to wait until the dawn before I decide what to do regarding her health.
The medicine will work for a little longer. Simone got them through a doctor friend, but that doesn’t mean Luna doesn’t need a hospital.
I help her lie down then sit beside her on the bed.
“The sweater,” she whispers, battling sleep.
“It’s dirty, baby. Sleep a little,” I whisper, caressing her head softly.
“I need it to sleep,” she implores in an almost inaudible breath that touches my heart in an unknown way.
I briefly close my eyes. What is this girl doing to me?
Without knowing why, I catch myself giving her another of my sweaters that she grabs like a trophy, snuggling it and pressing her face against it with a sigh. It doesn’t take long before she’s asleep.
I go back to take a quick shower. Then, wearing another pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt, I go back to the room. I’m not moving from her side until I know she’s okay. It’s bad enough I came home so late after a night of sex while thinking about this innocent girl. And here she was, alone, needing me.
I push the recrimination of my conscience to a distant place and dedicate myself to watching over her as she sleeps.
Luna
I wake up sore, especially my chest. However, I take comfort in the sense of security, something I haven’t felt for weeks.
I open my eyes and am surprised to find gray irises staring at me. Dominic is sitting on the bed, leaning against the headboard.
“Good morning,” I whisper.
“Good morning,” he returns in a hoarse, deep tone.
“You …” I hesitate for a moment. “Did you sleep here?”
His lips curl in a simple smile under his thick beard. “In a way.”
I should have been terrified that I slept in the same bed as a stranger, but something about this man gives me such peace … God, it doesn’t even seem real after what I’ve lived through.
