by West, Sinden
Clay arched an eyebrow. “Really? She sounds a bit of monster.”
“Oh, that’s a common family trait.” The wine really had gone to my head if I was speaking about family in such a derogatory way. A good family name was everything, even when those family members did terrible things. He was staring at me intently as if waiting for me to explain what I had just said, but of course I wouldn’t. I straightened and began to gather the plates.
“Here, I’ll help you,” he offered, taking the wine glasses that were now empty, but I waved him away.
“No, I’ll do it. You made us dinner, I should do the dishes.”
He cleared the table anyway. “Do you mind if I take a shower?” he asked.
“Of course. There are candlesticks in the bathroom to light your way. Take this.” I pressed the smaller candelabra into his hand. “Can you believe our ancestors used to live like this all the time?”
“There’s certainly something quaint about it,” he said, taking it from me as he turned for the stairs. I watched him go, surprised at myself for actually enjoying having company in the house. It probably wasn’t healthy for me to be so isolated out here. Then again, I’d really been isolated most of my life, even when I was in a room filled with people I never knew how to act or what to say. Isolation was my friend, along with the dark, and I mustn’t forget that.
I cleaned the kitchen thoroughly and made sure that everything was well ordered and tidy, just like my aunt liked it. I didn’t know why I bothered; the bitch was dead, but it was hard to get out of the habits of a lifetime. When Erin and I moved in together in our final year of college, I had to catch myself from mimicking my aunt’s tone in response to Erin’s slovenly ways and try to loosen up. There was nothing about that woman, or anyone in my family for that matter, who I would ever want to end up like. The last thing I did before going upstairs was to put the empty wine bottle in the trash. I wasn’t a big drinker, but had drunken that wine with ease, and what’s more, embraced the loose, careless feelings that it had instilled in me.
Clay must have lit the candles that sat in the iron holders along the walls, lighting the way for me. I snuffed each one out on the stairs as I passed it but left the ones in the hallway glowing for Clay. The bathroom door at the end of the hall opened, and steam escaped as Clay stepped out. Just a towel was loosely wrapped around his hips, which put his body on display. For a second, I couldn’t drag my eyes away from his well-developed chest and arms that were still wet and seemed to shine in the candlelight. He was such a contrast to Josh, whose intelligence and wit made up for his thin body.
“That’s a great shower. I wasn’t expecting that.” My reverie was broken, and I blushed, ashamed at having been caught staring. He was rubbing at his hair with a towel and had a wide smile on his face. Was he laughing at me?
“Yeah,” I muttered. “Good night.” I kept my eyes down as I opened the door to my own bedroom, which was across the hall from the one I had given him to use.
“Good night, Mattie,” I heard him call behind me just before I closed the door. Once safely in the solitude of my bedroom, I leaned my head against the door and groaned. Had I really just been staring at this guy? And worse, been caught? I was so stupid.
Dejected, I walked toward my bed and started to get changed into my nightdress. It was one of the things that Erin had sent me when she went on her first shopping trip in Paris. The others were rather risqué and I could just imagine Erin laughing as she bought them, knowing that they were things that I probably would never wear. This nightdress, however, was more demure. It was white and was a decent length as it reached my mid-thigh. Delicate lace covered my shoulders and décolletage, with a silk underlay preventing it being see through over my breasts and panties. Those panties, of course, matched. Erin was big on matching things. She made me wear a matching bra and panties on my first date with Josh. That was before we found out what kind of person he was, of course.
I slid under the cold sheets of my bed and was just about to extinguish the single candle beside the bed, when I heard a thump. A second later I heard Clay’s door open.
“What the hell? Matilda, are you all right?”
Grabbing the candlestick, I reached the door and opened it to find Clay standing there wearing only boxer shorts. This time, I managed not to stare.
“I’m fine.”
“What was that noise?” He held his own candle and walked to the top of the stairs.
“It’s probably nothing. Old houses like this always makes noises,” I told him as I followed. I’d been used to those noises ever since I could remember coming here.
“That wasn’t a normal noise,” he said over his shoulder as he descended the stairs. “Stay behind me.”
I nearly rolled my eyes at his back. “Trust me. It is.” But I followed him anyway. He looked through every room in the house, and nothing seemed out of place. “See?” I told him.
“We haven’t checked the cellar.” He moved past me, toward the narrow staircase. I let him go down first before I followed. “Man, its creepy down here.” He moved his candle so to inspect every corner, but all he found were cobwebs. The last part that he checked was the dark space where the skeleton had been holed up. “Are you sure this doesn’t lead to the outside somehow?”
“If it did, I’m sure the poor person that was left there would have escaped.”
He twisted his head to look at me. “Ha ha, very funny.”
I couldn’t help but grin back at him, just like I couldn’t help but notice how perfect he looked in the candlelight. His high cheekbones and firm jaw were all the more prominent in the light and shadow, and as the flame flickered, it gave him an almost ethereal appearance. We held each other’s eyes for a moment, and for once I didn’t feel myself blush. Instead, I felt myself drawn forward, almost as if I would be the one to initiate a kiss.
But the sound of the door swinging closed interrupted us. It slammed shut with a loud bang, and we both ran for the stairs. “What the hell—”A crash of glass followed, and Clay wrenched open the door that lead to the kitchen. The wine bottle, the one that I had put safely away in the trash earlier, lay shattered on the floor.
“I guess someone didn’t like us drinking the wine,” Clay said as we both stared at the mess.
“It’s probably Aunt Anna. She never did like people touching her things.”
He looked at me. “I don’t know if you’re joking or not. But I don’t believe in ghosts, someone’s done this. There must be someone gaining access to the house. We should—”
“Stop.” I raised a hand to emphasize my point. “There is no one else here. These things happen sometimes.”
He gave a laugh of disbelief. “Are you kidding me? Things just get broken randomly?”
I looked back down at the mess of glass. “Not usually broken, but there are noises, things fall…” I looked back up at him. “There’s nothing to be scared of.”
He took a step closer to me. “I’m not scared. I’m pissed that’s someone’s fucking with us.” He was staring down at me with such intensity that I should have taken a step back. His hand lifted to cup my cheek, the gentleness was unexpected considering the anger that was in him. I couldn’t drag my eyes away from him, feeling almost entranced by him. Time seemed to stop as he slowly lowered his lips down to mine and kissed me with an agonizing slowness. I almost stopped breathing in shock, but somehow my lips began to kiss back, coaxed by his. I closed my eyes, and felt like there was nothing else in this world but him and me.
His lips moved from mine to kiss along my cheek, and I felt his hot breath against my ear. “You are a sexy little thing, you know that?”
My eyes snapped open, and bad memories poured in. I pushed him away, stepping back and breathing heavily. “Stop making fun of me!”
He paused, confused, then he went back to his normal, confident self. “I’m not.”
“You are!” I nearly spat, my arms crossing over the front of my nightdress in a defensive moti
on. He closed the gap between us, and I couldn’t look away.
“I never joke about sex,” he said in a low tone. “I don’t like to waste time when I see someone I want in my bed. Whatever your self-esteem issues are, or whatever your problem is, I don’t care. This is what I want.” He hand wrapped around my wrist and he pulled me toward the stairs.
“What are you doing?” I didn’t even try to pull away from his grip as he led me upstairs, my mind still whirling with what he’d just said.
“I’m going to show you what I see.” He pulled me into the bathroom, setting the candle stick down on the vanity before turning me so I stood in front of him, facing the large bathroom mirror. One of his hands was firmly wrapped around my waist, while the other had a light grip on my chin so I was forced to stare at our reflections. I was breathing hard with confusion, anticipation and…excitement?
He moved the arm from my waist and began to stroke my hair. “I see a very desirable specimen. You float around in this sexy little nightgown in the dark like you have no fear of what’s lurking there. I don’t know if it’s that fearlessness or naivety that turns me on more.” He spoke in a low and mesmerizing tone that worked to block out every other thought within me. I should have told him that he was wrong and that I was scared of everything, but I couldn’t get my mouth to work. The hand that stroked my hair moved down lower, over the lace on my shoulder to slowly glide down over my chest. My heart started to beat harder as that hand sensually cupped one of my breasts, and I think that I gasped, especially as his thumb began to trace circles through the fabric and my nipple hardened to the point where it was visible through the garment.
The hand holding my chin in place released it, but I couldn’t have moved then even if I wanted to. My eyes were glued to my reflection like I was spellbound. My other breast was cupped just as seductively as the other, and my nipple sprung to life in a hardened peak and I felt myself begin to throb between my legs while my breasts ached.
“You see this body,” he murmured in my ear. “This is the body of a woman. It’s exquisite and it’s alive. What do you think this body wants me to do to it?”
My mouth was dry and I couldn’t speak even though my mind screamed for him to move his hands lower down to ease the throbbing down below.
“Speak to me, Mattie.” He kissed my neck, sucking on my skin so I would be left with red bruise tomorrow. “Tell me what you need.”
My body arched back like it had a mind of its own, and I rubbed against his boxers to feel him hard behind me.
“Speak, Mattie. I won’t give you anything unless you ask for it,” he tormented, all the while his hands kept massaging my breasts when all I wanted him to do was rip away the intruding nightdress and feel my flesh.
“I want…” I managed to say, nearly trembling. Although, it wasn’t shame or embarrassment that I felt right then, it was a want that made me weak. I moved my hands to grip at my crotch through the gown. “I want you here,” I said in a hoarse voice.
He met my eyes in the mirror, and grinned. His hand slid down to cover mine between my legs and he rubbed my hand so that it was forced to stroke against my already wet panties. I gave a slight moan at his more intense touch and I began to move, resting my head against his chest as I did so. He kissed me as he continued to massage me in a way that had ripples coursing through me. I broke away from the kiss to look at my reflection. In the dim light I saw a girl whose lips were swollen and red, eyes half closed in satisfaction, and my hard nipples were clearly visible. This girl looked wanton, and she looked like she was getting what she wanted.
“I’m going to fuck you now, my hot little thing,” he whispered to me.
All I could do was nod and he moved me to lean over the vanity, making me grip the sides. “Don’t let go,” he whispered as he began to lift up my nightdress. Everything he did was with a slow seduction that had me panting and wanting to scream at him just to rip it off. He moved it up to expose my white silk and lace panties. “Very pretty,” he murmured. He dragged them down, baring me, and his hand snaked between my legs to begin stroking me. I thrust against his hand, telling him that I wanted it harder, and he just chuckled. “You are an impatient little thing, aren’t you?” But he did what I wanted, and I smiled.
He reached into his toiletry bag that sat on the counter and drew out a condom, only removing his hands from me for a second to put it on. He slowly entered me from behind, and I was more than ready and dripping wet. He slid in with ease, filling me up and making me feel deliciously satisfied. Then he began to thrust, and I realized that I had never known what satisfaction was until right at that moment. I leaned into him while his hand still played with my clit and began to make low moans as I felt myself build up.
“Please,” I begged. Although I didn’t know what I was begging for because right then, I had everything I wanted. My mind turned blank and I couldn’t control the things that came out of my mouth, it didn’t sound like me, but all these tantalizing things that were happening were definitely taking my body to heights I’d never imagined. I cried out as I came and trembled, panting and gasping as my legs weakened. Only his secure hold kept me from collapsing to the ground in an exhausted, well-fucked mess.
We stayed like that, resting against him for support while I struggled to breathe again. When I opened my eyes, I saw I had a wide smile on my face, my hair was messed, and cheeks flushed. Then it hit me what I’d done. I’d just screwed a stranger in my dead Aunt’s house. I imagined her ghost standing beside me, sneering at the juices running down my legs and the love bites on my neck. “Like mother, like daughter,” she spat.
My eyes widened, and I pushed Clay back from me. He slid out of me and stepped back. “What’s wrong?”
I couldn’t even look at him. “I—I have to go.” I ran from the bathroom for the safety of my bedroom and slammed the door shut securely behind me before retreating to my bed.
Chapter Three
I stayed up half the night, mulling over what I had done. No doubt Clay thought I was a freak now, just like the rest of the world. Who the hell runs away after having sex with the hottest guy they’d ever met? Matilda Larsen, that’s who. Why couldn’t I just be normal for once? Josh used to call me frigid. Move your ass, he’d say. Deep throat me, he’d order. And if I didn’t, or began to gag, he would mock me for the rest of the week. I didn’t run away after those episodes, all though I should have. So why did I run from Clay?
No doubt Aunt Anna was having her desired effect. Your mother’s a filthy whore, spreading her legs for anyone; no doubt you’ll end up the same… I shoved the pillow over my head and tried to muffle those voices, but they had been ingrained in my brain for years and it would take more than a thin pillow to muffle them.
I slept in late the next morning, and when I finally rose, I saw that Clay’s door was open and that his bed was neatly made but there was no sign of him. I slunk into the bathroom and stood under the shower as I tried to think about what I would say when I saw him. Finally, after taking my time, I went downstairs.
The mess of glass had been cleaned up and the floor was spotless, but Clay was nowhere to be seen. I peered out the window and his bike was gone as well. I sat at the kitchen table with my head in my hands. It was probably for the best that he was gone anyway, but that didn’t make me feel any better. Then I heard the roar of a motorbike outside and practically ran to the window. He was back.
I sucked in a breath, before letting out a slight laugh, and then tried to calm myself as I heard his footsteps. “Hey, you’re awake,” he greeted. “I went into town to try and get cell phone reception.” He reached into his bag and pulled out a loaf of bread. “Found a great bakery.” He placed it on the table and the smell wafted to me. Then he busied himself grabbing a knife and plates before he started to slice it. “I don’t know how you live here, being so isolated and not even having a phone. It’s kind of like you’ve dropped off the planet until you get over a few hills.”
I bit into the b
read that he gave me, still not sure what to say about last night. He seemed to brush over it like nothing ever happened but then I noticed him staring at me. “What?” I asked softly after I swallowed my mouthful.
A small smile played on his lips. “At least I know that you can’t run far, not on foot at least. I’m sure that I’d always be able to catch you.”
I blushed and looked down. “About last night—”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ve embarrassed you and I’m sorry. That wasn’t my intention.” I heard his chair scrape on the floor as he moved it to sit closer to me. Without warning he grabbed my chair and moved it so I was facing him. I looked up at him in alarm, and then that alarm turned to something else when he placed his hands on my thighs. I was wearing jeans, and at that moment wished desperately that I wearing something sheer and delicate which I could feel his hands through. He leaned in close so that I could feel his hot breath on my cheek. “You enjoyed it though. I know you did,” he murmured.
I dared to look at him then. “Yes,” I whispered.
He regarded me for a few moments more before saying, “There’s nothing wrong with what we did, Mattie.”
“I know. I know that. I’m not frigid or anything,” I said, more to myself than to him, trying to wash away all the awful words that Josh had said.
“Oh, I know that. You are definitely not frigid.” He brushed a strand of hair away from my face. He was so close that it would be too easy for me to lean in and plant my lips on his. “You know, Mattie, I want to have you again, but I’m going to wait.”
My eyes darted quickly to his. “Why?” That wasn’t what my body wanted to hear.
“Because I want you to be comfortable with me and I don’t want you to run away from me,” he told me simply as he gently ran his hand over my denim-clad thigh. I could feel the throb between my legs again, and it amazed me that a man could have such an effect on me.