Beautiful Pain

by J. M. Walker

  She gasped, her eyes going wide.

  Releasing her abruptly, I stepped back. “Get out. Our sessions are done.”

  “But…” She licked her lips. “I thought you…”

  I laughed, a cold maniacal sound escaping my lips. “You thought what? That I wanted you? I may be an asshole but I’m not a home wrecker.” The fact alone that she thought I would fuck her, in my office no less, proved she wasn’t as upset about what she had done. She played a game, pretending to be a victim. She blamed her husband for ignoring her when she probably was never satisfied and spread her legs for anyone who showed interest. Under different circumstances, maybe when I was younger, cocky and would fuck anything that had a pussy. But now? I was almost forty. Besides a good lay every now and again, I was ready to settle down. I was itching for it.

  “You hinted,” she insisted.

  “Listen. If I wanted you, you would already be bent over the arm of my couch with my cock so deep inside of your pussy, you wouldn’t be able to breathe.”

  Her hand fluttered up to her throat, her cheeks going red. She acted all prim and proper. How dare a man tell a woman exactly what he could do or wanted to do to her. It was uncalled for. Completely asinine. I was going to hell for my dirty words. Puh-lease. If people were more honest, there would be less cheating in this world.

  “You…I-I…God, I wish my husband would talk to me like that,” she blurted.

  And there we had it folks. “Bring him in and I’ll have a chat with that man of yours. But, I don’t want either of you in until next month. After you try and work it out on your own.”

  She nodded, pushing away from the wall and headed to the door. She paused, turning back to me. “What happened?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You were so nice before today. You had patience and never spoke to me like that. I was wondering what happened between then and now.”

  You’re a whiny little bitch who wants her cake and eat it too. “Nothing.” Yeah right. “I’m fine.” Lies, I tell you. All lies.

  Maria stood a little taller, took a breath and left the office.

  Dealing with her shit put me in one hell of a mood. I couldn’t understand what made me snap. The fact she cheated shouldn’t bother me as much as it did. I needed out. Away from this job. This life. God, maybe I needed to start seeing a fucking shrink.

  Grabbing my keys and briefcase, I closed up the office. “Cathy, I’m heading out for the day. Please hold my calls until tomorrow,” I told my receptionist.

  “Of course.” She smiled. “I’ll hold them until ten tomorrow morning.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you,” I said and left the building.

  Cathy Jones had been with me since the beginning. She had inherited some money from her late father and no longer needed to work she told me once. She only worked to remain sane. A single mother of three, she kept to herself. Brought me my morning coffee and did her work. She never asked questions. She didn’t even question why Maria had left in a hurry. Cathy was the perfect receptionist.

  The cool evening air wrapped around me, enveloping me in a brisk blanket. Pulling my jacket tighter around me, I walked the two blocks to my favorite diner. Cello’s had been around for as long as I had been in the city. It was family run. Cozy, warm and pleasant. I smiled to myself. The restaurant was everything I was not.

  I went there frequently after work. Not that my work ever ended but as I got older, I decided to only be on call twenty-four/seven for certain patients.

  “Dr. Santos, your booth is ready for you,” the waitress, Emily, greeted me as I walked through the double set of doors.

  I gave the young girl a curt nod, not in the mood for small talk. It wasn’t her fault but I was not feeling it tonight.

  Walking to the back of the diner. I was suddenly hit with a wall of a scent that made my dick twitch. What the hell? The smell was spicy mixed with a delicious hint of lavender. My eyes scanned the room, trying to find the source causing this unexpected reaction.

  The hairs on my nape tingled, a flutter of desire shooting down the length of my body. Loosening my tie, I cleared my throat and leaned my head from side to side. A sharp twinge of pain rippled down the length of my body.

  “The usual?”

  “Please,” I told the waitress and slid into the booth. For whatever reason, the delicious scent lingered. Not being able to find the source, I pulled out my work and did my research for the upcoming appointments I had tomorrow.

  “Here you go, sir.”

  My heart jumped at the soft feminine voice. It was smooth, brushing over my skin like silk.

  Glancing up, I noticed the same beautiful woman from the previous night standing before me.

  “Mae,” I sat back in the booth. “It’s so nice to see you again.” The smell wafted into the nostrils again. My cock hardened, happy I had found the source.

  She placed a plate of food on the table in front of me. “Enjoy.”

  “Sit with me,” I blurted before she left. She had ignored my advances the night before. Under normal circumstances I would have pushed, demanded for her to service my needs but there was something different about Mae.

  “I don’t think that’s appropriate.” Her voice was gentle but firm, the slightly accented tone sending a shiver down my spine. I couldn’t quite place where she was from but I knew I would eventually get it out of her.

  “And why not?” I prodded. “You’re done working, so join me for a drink.”

  “How do you know my shift is done?” she asked, her brows narrowing.

  “Because you leave at the same time every day.”

  “Are you stalking me now, sir?” Her eyes darkened but they showed no hint of emotion.

  At that moment I realized, she was a shell. An empty reflection of herself. It didn’t take my psychology degree to know that. “No. I don’t stalk.”

  “What do you call it then? Brooding?” she asked, toying with the strap of her apron.

  I watched her slender fingers move back and forth over the fabric in a nervous manner. The sadist in me rejoiced, puffing out its chest. “I call it wanting to know the woman who ignored me.”

  “Why?” she questioned.

  I noted her demeanor. Back stiff. Eyes locked with mine. She was challenging me. “Why not?”

  Mae glanced over her shoulder.

  The large man in the kitchen nodded our way, a cold hard glare heading my way.

  A slow smirk spread on my face. He had nothing to worry about. I wouldn’t do anything to Mae that she didn’t want. That she didn’t ask for while begging at my feet.

  “Sir, I don’t—”

  “One drink,” I raised my hand. “That’s it.” For now.

  Mae

  Why he was adamant about having a drink with me, I had no idea. But as I stood there, contemplating running away, I found I couldn’t. I was stuck. In time. In a place I never wanted to leave.

  I pulled off my apron and slumped in the chair. “One drink.”

  The dark sinful man scratched his jaw, peering my way. Watching me. My skin tingled, vibrating over my bones. It was almost like he was looking into a deeper part of me. Something further than my soul. My very being. This man sitting only a few feet away from me had a darkness to him I wanted to wrap myself around. To protect him from. And that confused me.

  “So tell me, Mae, how long have you been working at Cello’s?”

  Small talk. Alright, I could do this. “Over five years.”

  “I don’t usually see you here.”

  “I’m usually on days but our night girl is sick this week.”

  “Do you like it?” he asked, handing me his full glass of water. He nodded towards it when I hesitated.

  “Yes,” I reached for the glass and took a sip. “It’s like my second home.”

  “I understand. So tell me, beautiful girl, where are you from?”

  My heart gave a start at the compliment but I felt the need to answer his question
. “Um…Czech Republic. You?”

  “I was born and raised in a small village in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico but my mom was Italian.”

  Interesting mix.

  “It is.”

  My cheeks heated, not realizing I had spoken out loud. “Sorry, sir. That was rude of me.”

  Something flashed behind his eyes. He leaned forward and brushed a finger over the back of my hand. “Why do you call me Sir?” he asked, his voice husky.

  “I…” I swallowed hard, watching him touch me. “It’s respectful.”

  “And?” His fingers wrapped around mine, holding it in a firm grip.

  “And…and…” It felt natural but I didn’t want to say that to him. He would probably think I was a freak for having these feelings when I didn’t even know the guy’s name. I pulled my hand from his grip and stood up from the table. “I should get going.”

  “No.” He reached for my hand, squeezing it gently. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” His eyes softened. “Please sit.”

  “Why do you want to have a drink with me?” I asked, sitting back down. I couldn’t help but question his intentions. I had learned fast in life that nothing came easy. Whether I wanted it to or not, I had to work hard for everything.

  “Something about you intrigues me, Mae.”

  I didn’t know why. I was no one special. “You need to get out more.”

  A deep booming laugh escaped his lips. “Yes. I probably do.”

  “You’ve never told me your name,” I noted, picking at the hem on my shirt. I glanced up when he didn’t respond. My breath caught in my throat.

  He sat casually with one arm draped over the back of the booth. “That’s because I never gave it to you.” His voice was calm and smooth, silky like melted chocolate.

  “If you want me to have a drink with you, I expect you to tell me your name.” I had to be brave. I had to be strong enough to handle this man. No one would break me down again. I braced myself for his reply, imagining him yelling and screaming at me but when he didn’t, I let out a breath of relief.

  “Touché.” He winked. “My name is Matteo Santos.”

  “When did you move here?” I asked, ignoring the way his name made my insides quiver.

  “I was eighteen when I left Mexico but I go back frequently. When was the last time you were home?”

  Home. That one word should mean so much. Safety. Peace.

  “I haven’t been home since I was a teenager.” My heart started racing as memories from my past tried to force their way into my mind.

  “Do you have family here?”

  I took a breath and nodded. “Cello is my cousin. I moved in with him and his mom when I was sixteen.” I couldn’t understand why it was so easy to talk to him. He opened up a part of me that had been closed for so long.

  “It’s nice to keep the business in the family.”

  I glanced up at Matteo’s words.

  “So how about that drink?” His dark eyes twinkled in the dim lighting of the room.

  “Fine,” I finally agreed. “One drink.”

  His lips turned up at the corners.

  I called Nika over and placed our order. “It’s on the house,” I told Matteo when he pulled out his wallet.

  “All of the drinks are on the house.” Nika winked at me and headed to the window leading into the kitchen. She and Cello were looking our way, no doubt talking about how crazy I was for having a drink with a guy I didn’t know. Or maybe it was all me. That was how people dated right? They didn’t know each other, so they would meet up, hang out, and see how things went? Maybe I was so paranoid every man was a monster that I didn’t allow myself to date.

  “So tell me, Mae, what’s your full name?” Matteo slid over to the far side of the bench and patted the spot beside him.

  I hesitated. “Marketa Dobry.”

  “I don’t bite, Marketa,” he purred out my name.

  What if I asked him to? Would he bite me then? Would he think I was a freak for craving a little pain?

  “Mae.” His voice was firm, snapping me from my thoughts.

  “Sir,” I answered automatically.

  “Come here, sweet girl.”

  Sliding into the booth beside him, I breathed in the musky scent of him. Spicy cologne. Leather. Pure hard delicious male.

  “Tell me about yourself,” he insisted when Nika brought the drinks over.

  She glanced at me, her brows narrowing.

  I nodded once and took a sip of my drink. The cranberry and vodka slid down my throat, heating my skin as it settled in the pit of my belly. “What would you like to know?”

  “Anything at all.” He brushed a finger down my arm before grabbing my hand. His forward advances should have made me nervous. It should have made me run but it didn’t. Something about the man now holding my hand when I had only met him the night before, revealed a part of myself I had never been allowed to show anyone.

  I shrugged. “I’m pretty boring.”

  “Somehow I find that hard to believe.” He curled his fingers in mine, brushing his thumb along the back of my hand.

  My stomach tumbled as I watched the small movement. My small hand fit perfectly in his large one like it was made for him.

  “Have you ever been to Italy?” he asked, his deep voice soothing my racing nerves.

  “No, but I would love to. I heard it’s beautiful.”

  He gave me a small smile. “It is.”

  “Do you go often?” I asked, turning towards him.

  “Not as often as I should.”

  I couldn’t help but wonder what his story was. What was his childhood like? What made him…him?

  “My dad keeps asking me to come home even though it’s been so long.” I twirled my straw in the glass absent-mindedly. “But it’s hard being there without my mom. I find I miss her more and more every day and no matter what anyone says, it does not get easier.” I glimpsed his way when he didn’t respond and found him staring at me. “Sorry.” My cheeks burned. “That was information you probably didn’t want to know.” I mentally smacked myself for confessing something to Matteo I had never told anyone. I just met him and already I was opening up. My stomach twisted. I needed to regain control and think about what I said before I blurted my whole life story to him. Before I gave him any reason to have control of me.

  “I want to know everything, Mae,” he added a moment later. “And I won’t stop until I do.”

  “Why? What’s so special about me, Matteo? I’m sure there’s plenty of places you’d rather be than here with some messed up waitress.” Shit. I did it again.

  “Messed up?” He frowned.

  Of course he would focus on that. “Forget it.” I downed my drink. “It was nice meeting you. I’m sure I’ll see you around.” I went to leave the booth when his hold tightened on my hand.

  “Go on a date with me.”

  (Matteo)

  “Excuse me?” Her perfect dark brows narrowed in the center.

  “Please.” I had to force myself not to snap at her. Her constant questioning of me was starting to piss me off.

  “Why would you want to go on a date with me?”

  “I’ll forget you asked that,” I growled, a little more harshly than I would have liked. “One date.”

  Her eyes had widened but I noticed something else. Something hidden behind the depths of her stare. But I couldn’t quite place what it was.

  “One date,” I said, gently this time.

  “I’m not trying to be rude but I need to know why.” Her firm voice slid over me, heating my skin.

  “Like I said before, something about you intrigues me, Marketa,” I purred.

  Her pupils dilated, her pink tongue sweeping along her bottom lip. “One date,” she whispered.

  I pulled a business card out of my pocket and wrote down my cell number before slipping it into her hands. “One date.”

  She let out a small sigh and grabbed a napkin. “I’ve never been on a date before.”


  Well didn’t that make me feel all sorts of special but I still had to ask. “How old are you?”

  “Thirty-three.”

  “And you’ve never been on a date?” I needed to hear her say it.

  “No.” Her cheeks reddened and a glaze passed over her eyes while she no doubt remembered something. She stared straight ahead, looking at me but not seeing me.

  “Mae.” I snapped my fingers in front of her face.

  She jumped, blinking a couple of times. “I’ve never been on a date before,” she repeated, sliding the napkin across the table.

  Well that was odd. “We’ll work on that,” I mumbled, wondering what had just happened.

  She nodded once and left the booth, slipping my card into her pocket.

  We’ll work on everything together, beautiful girl. Why I started using these terms of endearments on her was beyond me. I never used them. On anyone. I didn’t care what a pet’s name was. But Mae. I wanted to find out everything. What made her tick. What made her moan. What made her…her. I programmed her number in my cell and sent her a text.

  Me: Thank you.

  Mae: Who is this?

  Me: Matteo. Program this number in your phone.

  Mae: Yes, Sir.

  God, I loved it when she called me Sir.

  Me: Always so accommodating, sweet girl?

  A little flirting through text wouldn’t hurt. Since I found I couldn’t keep my hands to myself, I didn’t want to overstep my bounds before she trusted me.

  Mae: With you, yes.

  Holy. Shit. I rather enjoyed her honesty. Her feelings slipped off her tongue like honey.

  Me: Well we will have to test that theory, now won’t we, Mae?

  Mae: If it pleases you.

  The hairs on the back of my neck tingled, my dick lengthening in my pants at her words. I peered around the vast room of the diner but she was nowhere in sight. She wanted to play? Well I was fucking game.

  Me: Oh it pleases me. And eventually I will teach you what else pleases me as well.