Consequences

by Aleatha Romig

  He didn’t touch her, instead he moved himself in front of her so they were eye to eye. “Claire, I am sorry I hurt you.” She felt the tears as she tried to maintain eye contact. He gently took her hands. “I ask that one day you will consider forgiving me.” He kissed her hands.

  When she looked into his eyes she saw sadness and remorse. The swirl of emotions that had so violently erupted at the estate now settled into her chest. She wanted the sadness to go away. He’d been so patient. He was being so tender. She didn’t forgive him, but she began to respond to his advances. It started with kissing, he kissed her and she began to kiss him. Then she felt her hands as they caressed his arms and shoulders. Tony bulged with excitement, yet he didn’t rush or push. He stayed compassionate and tender.

  “Tony, I’m scared.”

  “I promise I will be gentle.” For some reason, she believed him.

  “Can we please go home to a nice soft bed?” He quietly stood and helped Claire to her feet. She took his offered hand. They walked back to the car, this time she got in willingly.

  When they pulled up to the house, Claire leaned over. “I really want this. But please be gentle.” He parked the car, walked around to her door, and helped her out of the car. They walked up the front steps hand in hand, where hours before she’d been hysterical. When he opened the door he scooped Claire into his arms, and instead of going up to her suite, carried her to his room. While he held her, she closed her eyes and nuzzled his neck. The aroma of his skin and cologne intoxicated her.

  She had never, in all the time she’d been there, been in his bedroom. It was grand, almost royal. The walls were covered with cherry paneling and ornate carpentry. One wall was covered with a large screen framed like a picture, like the one in his office. His bed was massive, tall and larger than a normal king-sized. There were steps to reach the height of the mattress.

  He gently placed her on his bed. She watched as he slowly removed her shoes. Then he unbuttoned and tenderly removed her jacket, her blouse, and her jeans. He removed his own clothes while she observed his every move. He was gorgeous, and his moves were slow and sensual. He softly kissed her, causing her to lie back. She looked up at the beautiful ornate ceiling. She felt his lips move down her body. They lingered at her neck, at her breast, stopping to lick and suckle her nipple. Claire’s back arched, and she pressed her breasts toward Tony. He continued to touch her warm body, taste her skin, and inhale her scent.

  She hadn’t realized it before that moment, but after experiencing orgasms routinely the void of the past two months had left her wanting. Her body was now alive, on full alert, and every nerve was electrified. He fondled her breasts and gently twisted her nipples. She moaned in ecstasy. He stopped. “Did I hurt you? I’m sorry. Do you want me to stop?”

  She pleaded, “No, god no. Please don’t stop.”

  He allowed his lips to move from her breasts to her flat stomach and over her protruding hipbones. He tenderly spread her legs and kissed her inner thighs. She feared she would explode before he ever reached his destination. Next his tongue affectionately awakened her desires. He satisfied every need she’d ever had and ones she’d forgotten. He moved slowly and deliberately, sensual and romantic, compassionate and loving.

  He had been patient and remorseful. Now it was his turn to experience a favorable consequence. His pleasure came by pleasing her. His actions took everything away. And now his actions brought everything back and more.

  Nothing is more common on earth than to deceive and be deceived.

  —Johann G. Seume

  Chapter 22

  The ashtray overflowed with cigarette butts. Samuel Rawls and Jared Clawson sat, while Nathaniel Rawls paced. The large polished conference table was barely visible beneath the magnitude of papers. The players no longer worked from the New Jersey office above the textile factory as they did five years ago. Instead, the view from the conference table or large mahogany desk is now that of Cedar Street, in the heart of Manhattan’s financial district.

  “Rawls stock is up another five-eighths after heavy trading. The rumors that circulated today about the quarterly report helped with that increase,” Clawson said as he leaned back in the comfortable leather chair, adjusting his suit jacket.

  Nathaniel’s track around the large office included peering out toward the NYSE and circling the desk to see the large computer screens that relayed the most up-to-date stock information. Exhaling a large gray cloud, he asked the question that sat heavily on his and Samuel’s minds, “But what happens when it is discovered that the rumors and reality are different?”

  “Shit hits the fan.” Clawson smiled. “So we don’t tell anyone.”

  Samuel rubbed his throbbing head. “What do you mean we don’t tell anyone? The quarterly earnings report will be released tomorrow. The investors will find out that our capital is down. That last string of investments wiped out millions.”

  “Numbers are funny things. I have a copy here of an alternative report. The numbers are all legitimate, but the information is written with a more positive slant.” Clawson distributed the report. The room filled with uncomfortable silence as the two Rawls men read the new report.

  “Where is the original report?” Nathaniel bellowed. Immediately, Clawson pulled the requested pages from the cluttered table. The elder Rawls took the two reports and sat heavily at his desk. Page by page he compared the figures. Samuel and Clawson watched as the tips of Nathaniel’s lips moved from south to north. The telephone rang, breaking the silence. Instead of answering, Nathaniel hit the button on the intercom. “Connie, I said no calls!”

  The voice from the box spoke apologetically, “I’m sorry, Mr. Rawls. It’s your personal line. I’ll take care of it.” Immediately, the ringing stopped.

  The sight of Nathaniel’s smile had differing effects. Clawson resumed his leaned back position and lit another cigarette. Samuel leaned forward and held his head in his hands. Confronting his father in front of Clawson wasn’t a good idea, but it had to be done. This whole damn thing was getting out of hand.

  It is difficult to know at what moment love begins;

  it is less difficult to know it has begun.

  —Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

  Chapter 23

  His head rested on his arm as he listened to her breathing and watched her sleep. The discussion in his head had raged for hours. Sensing her warmth, inhaling her scent, and wanting to taste her lips . . . the voice of love was prevailing.

  Claire floated in that place before consciousness, having difficulty distinguishing reality from fantasy, unsure what she was feeling. The epiphany came in the realization she was . . . feeling. It had been so long since she felt anything. She was feeling warm, good, safe. Her mind tried to convince her it was a dream, but she remembered feeling that way before she fell asleep. She questioned herself, Is this real? Her soft skin rolled on the silky sheets, felt radiating warmth. Hesitantly, she slowly opened her eyes. Right in front of her, close enough to touch, was Tony’s firm broad chest. Again, the questions. Is he really here? He usually left her bed before she woke. Why is he still here? Now as Claire rolled onto her back and saw the beautiful ornate ceiling she wondered, Where is here? This isn’t my room.

  With a rich raspy tone, he greeted her, “Good morning, Claire.” His smile revealed the winner of his internal monologue; adoration and love showed through. He leaned down to kiss her head.

  “Good morning, what are you doing still in bed?” The room was quite dark. “Or is it early? It is so dark.” The eyes that watched her weren’t.

  “I have been watching you sleep.” He slid his arm under her back, placing her head upon his shoulder. His aroma was exhilarating. His hard strong shoulder made the perfect pillow as his arm gently surrounded her warm body.

  “Why would you do that? I need a shower and probably look awful.” She buried her face into his chest, allowing his hairs to tickle her cheeks. She inhaled deeply.

  He took her chin and turned her
face toward his, gently kissing her lips. “I have been watching you because you are so beautiful. Your face is flawless.” Claire tried to look away from his eyes. They were light, honest, and real. The candidness made her uneasy. “Please don’t look away. I see you now and think about what your face looked like, what I did to you. I am not going to keep bringing this up, but I want you to know how much I regret it. And how amazing I think you are. You went through so much. I don’t want anything like that to ever happen again.”

  She couldn’t stop the tears that trickled down her cheeks. She wanted to hide her face, but he held her chin firmly. “Tony, I am glad to know you are sorry. I am sorry too.” He let go of her chin, but she continued watching him as she spoke. “I am sorry about Meredith. I really didn’t say anything to her. She walked up and recognized me. Like the article said, we were sorority sisters. I never suspected that she was a reporter. She asked if she could join me. I didn’t want her to, I thought about your rules, but then I thought about appearances and I decided telling her no would be rude. I am sorry I made the wrong decision.”

  He rolled her over onto her back. The skin of his chest pressed against her bare breasts. Looking up into his face she saw his eyes darken only slightly. His features looked like those of a model, prominent cheek bones and strong jaw line. His gaze went on for an eternity before he finally spoke. “I can’t promise I will never get upset. I can probably promise I will. However, I promise I will do my best to never hurt you like that again. But I need something from you.”

  She assumed it involved gratification and she didn’t mind. “What do you want me to do?”

  “I want you to make me a promise.” Claire raised her eyebrows as if to ask him to continue. “A promise that you will do your best to follow my rules, that you will do your best to never give me cause to hurt you again.”

  “Tony, I promise I will do my best to make you proud. And I accept your apology. You do not need to keep apologizing.”

  Looking at his expression she read a mixture of emotions: gratitude, adoration, and relief. “Have I told you how amazing you are? I’ve watched you and Dr. Leonard fifty times. You were in such pain. God, even water made you sick. Yet you were perfect and made me so proud. I listened to your answers over and over. I understand his concern. Our story didn’t hold water. I was just so worried about you, lying on the floor and I couldn’t get you to wake up. I had to get you some medical help. I was upset about what I thought you’d done. The longer I waited for you to get home that night, the more betrayed I felt, I lost control.” Claire saw such honesty in his eyes. It was like a window that exposed his soul, one she didn’t think he allowed many people to see. “When you quit moving I realized what happened and I became more upset about what I had done. Suddenly, getting you help was more important than appearances.” He gently smoothed her hair. “You had the chance to tell someone about me and what I did. I deserved that and more. But no, even in your condition you were perfect.”

  He lowered his face to her collar bone. She could feel this rough beard growth on her skin. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but . . .” looking again into her emerald eyes, “thank you for giving it to me.”

  He started to kiss her. Her body responded, but her mind thought about the cameras and surveillance. She knew they were there. Compartmentalize. She had a lot to put away. She needed bigger compartments.

  She could feel his hardness on her leg. He kissed his way down her neck to her collar bone, her breasts pressed upward in anticipation of his mouth. Her nipples hardened as his lips lightly brushed their tips. She tried to suppress her heated desires. It was her turn to ask for a favor. “Tony, while we are asking for things, can I have something from you?”

  “I have something for you right now,” he said between kisses and inching his way down her body, gently moving her legs.

  “And I want that.” Claire smiled as she lifted her head to catch his eyes. “But first, can I have a promise?” Tony moved up, kissed her lips, and asked what she wanted him to promise. “You were right, there was pain. But what haunted me for two months was the threat of you locking me in my suite. Please don’t use my honesty against me. I don’t want to be locked up alone again. It was unbearable. I know you don’t have to, but I am asking you . . . please promise me you will never do that to me again.”

  “Claire, I promise I will not lock you in your suite again. And if we each keep our promises, maintaining them all will be easier.”

  “Thank you,” she sighed, his promise removed a tremendous weight. Her body yearned. “Now what did you say about having something for me?” He looked at her smile. It was real, extending to her gleaming green eyes and it was for him. He grinned back, a little more mischievous this time.

  Breakfast was served in Tony’s suite. They ate with wet hair while wrapped in thick soft white robes. Claire’s appetite returned with a vengeance. She ate eggs, turkey bacon, toast, and fruit. She even thought about hash browns. She decided that maybe she should tell Catherine she liked hash browns.

  Tony’s voice took Claire’s attention away from her food. “I have a confession. I think I’m an example of my own rule.” Claire told him she didn’t know what he meant. He explained that although he is thrilled with the outcome of yesterday’s drive, it hadn’t been his goal.

  Claire smiled and responded, “Well appearances,” looking at their wet hair and robes, “would say differently.” She used her toe to rub up and down his leg. “I am happy with the outcome too. But what was your goal?”

  He told her it was simply to get her to leave the estate to go somewhere. He wanted to get her away before they needed to go somewhere. Claire reflected on the past twenty-four hours. Okay, he did that too. “Why? When do we need to go somewhere? And where do we need to go?” Her toe still wandered.

  “If you keep that up, we will be late.” Tony’s voice didn’t sound concerned. He glanced at the clock by his bed, eleven seventeen. “Well, we are supposed to be at Brent and Courtney’s for dinner at three thirty this afternoon.”

  Claire did some math in her head, they had four hours. “I really would rather stay here, but I suspect I don’t have a choice. How many people will be there?”

  Tony confirmed she was correct. They were going and it would just be the four of them. Courtney had been asking Tony to bring Claire over since the beginning of October. They sent her flowers and cards, they must have been aware of her accident. Claire liked Courtney, Tony obviously trusted them. She could do it.

  While she thought about the Simmonses and refocused on her breakfast, her toe was stopped in its exploration and lifted. She followed the sensation and found Tony on the ground, holding her foot. He slowly put her toe in his mouth and began to suck.

  He watched her reaction as her brain forgot the breakfast and impending dinner. The slight gasp that escaped her lips made him smile. She immediately felt the sensation on her toe ignite pulsations elsewhere. His lips moved from her toe to her foot, her ankle, and her leg. He opened her robe and pulled her toward him. Claire’s body tingled in anticipation. Too soon his talented lips and tongue gave her unimaginable thrills.

  Finding their way back to his bed, Tony supported himself above her lean, blossoming body. With a raspy voice he inquired, “Claire, what do you want?” She looked in his eyes again, still so light and real. He had never asked her what she wanted. He kissed her neck, her back arched and pressed against him. “I want to hear you, no forcing, no directions. What do you want?” His desires were clear and rubbing across her thighs.

  “I want you.”

  That wasn’t enough, Tony wanted to hear more. “Tell me what you want. I need to know you want it as much as I do.”

  “Oh god, Tony, I want you. I want you inside of me.” Her body was on the brink of explosion. “Please. Please take me.” She closed her eyes as he did what she asked. Grabbing his shoulders, she wanted every bit of him, every inch, and now that he was there she lost control. Her body responded to his every
movement; no consciousness, only carnal desire. More than once he elicited earthshaking convulsions. There was no question this was consensual. Claire was getting what she asked for and wanted more.

  Tony drove to and from the Simmonses. This time they took the Mercedes. It was a great ride from the back when Eric drove, but it was even better from the passenger’s seat, smooth and quiet. Tony tuned the satellite radio to a classical station. The warm car, soft music, and smooth ride almost had Claire napping. Her energy wasn’t at its preaccident level, and her eyes began to close. Catherine told her one time to not act tired, but she wasn’t acting. Tony noticed. “It is all right. Why don’t you lay the seat back and I will wake you when we arrive.” She did.

  They had a good time with Brent and Courtney. Courtney told Claire a thousand times she needed to gain some weight. The unfortunate accident in the woods had left her too thin, but she quickly added that she was still beautiful. After the delicious dinner they retired to the lower level, the Vikings and the Packers were playing. Apparently, Brent and Tony were Vikings fans. Claire wondered how she didn’t know that.

  While they watched the game and argued with the television, Claire and Courtney chatted. It was nice to talk to someone else. Courtney made Claire feel warm and secure. She didn’t pry, but wanted to know about Claire’s accident and recovery. Apparently, Brent had told her how upset Tony was. He couldn’t believe something like that could happen on his land. Did they ever find out if someone had been out in the woods?