“You want to come live with me, little guy?” I say in a baby voice. He purrs louder and rolls on his back so I can rub his tummy, making me laugh.
I think I accidentally upset the dominant dude. I didn’t mean to, really—I just can’t seem to control my emotions at all anymore. I’m a total mess since Nick died, and I feel as if I’m flailing off the edge of a cliff most of the time. Just a few months ago life was so different. We were trying to have a baby. We both had good jobs. We had great friends. We were happy, at least most of the time, and more than most couples I know. A lump forms in my throat as the memories play in my mind.
And now …
Now I’m lying on a some guy’s couch, a guy I let tie me up for a blow job and fuck me, a guy who threatened to spank me and wants me to submit to him. There is something incredibly alluring and sexually magnetic about him, something taboo. I want to give in to him, and I don’t even know why.
He was right about the release of control and it making me feel better. It really did, so very much, but not in any way that I have ever felt before. It was exhilarating, like falling without a net, yet knowing I would be caught. It felt dirty, too, and as much as I tried to fight it, it turned me on.
You’re a pig.
There is sadness deep in him, a darkness living there that pulls him under. He’s hiding so much from me, not letting me see all of him, and I know there is more to him than he’s letting on, more than I assumed he would be. He’s a Pandora’s box that I should probably not play with, but even after just one day, I feel hooked. I honestly think his need for control stems from a fear of abandonment and loss. If he controls the relationship, then he can’t be blindsided or hurt.
While he’s at the store, I consider calling a cab and getting the hell out of here before I get in deeper, but I can’t bring myself to do it. I’m too intrigued by him and what he’s offering. I like how he’s melting the ice around me, helping me feel again, awakening feelings I’ve never felt before, helping me find a new me.
Yesterday I wanted to die, but today I just want to kill the girl I used to be and meet the girl I could be.
It’s a start.
***
A door shutting and the kitten jumping wake me up. I look around, disoriented, and he’s standing over me, holding some bags.
“I’m sorry. I must have dozed off.”
“Don’t apologize, I want you to rest. You’re exhausted. And too thin.”
I follow him to the kitchen and help him take the stuff out of the bags. It feels strangely domestic and familiar. “I thought men liked thin.”
He winks at me and my insides melt for days. “I like some curves so I can hold onto you. You’re way too skinny. My dick weighs more than you.”
I make a disgusted face at him. “Ew. That is so … ugh. I don’t even know.” I shake my head and busy myself with the groceries while he laughs.
He’s putting things in the refrigerator, his long, black hair cascading over his muscled back and shoulders. Yesterday my head was too messed up and foggy to notice how gorgeous and sexy he is. He’s got the kind of carnal looks that stops a woman in her tracks and makes her wet instantly just by looking at him. His dark skin, facial features, and long, black hair definitely hint at him being Native American. And those muscles and tattoos … wow.
“I’m sorry I upset you earlier … before you left.”
He shrugs it off. “I don’t get upset.” He’s lying.