by A. m Madden
I changed as quickly as I could, put my hair up in a ponytail, and brushed my teeth. On my way out of the bathroom I saw my shaver on the tiled shelf and considered shaving real quick, but thought better of it.
I found David sitting on my couch holding a beer and staring into space. “Hey, are you okay?”
When his eyes cut to mine, the dazed look only worsened. “I have to tell you something.”
The way he said it caused my gut to twist uneasily. “What’s wrong?”
“When I was getting a beer, I…you…” He ran his palm over the short curls on his head a few times, before adding, “I saw you through the mirror getting changed.”
“Oh my God. You scared me. I couldn’t imagine what was wrong.” I moved toward the couch and sat beside him. “I guess that’s my fault for leaving the door open. I didn’t think—”
“I watched,” he interrupted. “I should have looked away, but I didn’t.” He picked at the painted label on his beer bottle, avoiding eye contact. Was it weird my gut went from feeling uneasiness to excitement at his admission? Was it strange I thought him admitting that was really hot?
But he looked so distraught, making me wonder why he was fighting his obvious attraction toward me. In an attempt to lighten the mood I blurted out, “Based on the look on your face I must have traumatized you.”
His head twisted to look at me. “Are you insane?” His response had no levity whatsoever. He placed the bottle down on the coffee table before he stood abruptly and blurted out, “I need to go.”
“What? Why?”
“Sorry, I just can’t.” He grabbed his coat off the back of the chair and walked toward the door.
“David.” With a hand on the doorknob he stopped, but wouldn’t turn. “Talk to me.”
His head twisted enough to look at me over his shoulder. The torment he felt was written all over his face. I couldn’t fathom what was causing it, but of one thing I was certain: I needed to know what I did or said that triggered that response.
I walked toward him with purpose and placed my hand on his arm. “Please talk to me. Let me help.” He didn’t say a word, but his white-knuckled grip on the doorknob spoke volumes. “Please?”
He placed his forehead against the wood-paneled door, pulling in breath after breath. After a few very long moments passed, he finally said, “Maygen, I want you so fucking bad.” His admission surprised me, and caused me to wrap my arms around his waist in an attempt to soothe his frayed nerves.
“I want you, too.”
His large hands gripped mine and he peeled my arms away from his torso. “You can’t. I’m so fucked up, you can’t want me.”
“Well, I do. Why are you fighting this?”
He turned his body, his eyes drilling into mine with so much emotion it both scared and excited me at the same time. “Fighting is all I know how to do. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
I was afraid that if I let him walk out that door, whatever this was could spiral out of control. Whatever he fought within his own head, his own heart could cause me to never see him again. It was a chance I wasn’t willing to take. Ignoring his silent request to not touch him, I wrapped my arms around him for the second time, hoping I could scare away the demons that haunted him.
With every moment I felt his body relax a bit more, his breathing become less labored. With my persistent touch, I felt the David I’d gotten to know slowly returning.
Chapter 11
Maygen
I had no clue if we stood there for five minutes or fifty. My arms remained wrapped around his waist, while his hung limply by his sides. But surprisingly, during that time he didn’t push me away, attempt to leave, or say a word.
And then…I felt his hands tentatively skim my back, before he wrapped his arms around me in a crushing hug. The tears immediately welled and rolled down my face. Ragged breaths caused shallow jerks within his chest. I could feel his fingers digging into my sides, holding on for dear life. The rough fabric of his coat combined with my salty tears felt like sandpaper on my face. His large frame leaned heavily against me, but I refused to move.
When his breathing evened and his hold loosened, I whispered, “Please talk to me.” The only thing that stopped me from looking at him was fear of what I’d see.
“I can’t,” he responded without hesitation.
“Is that why you didn’t call me, or attempt to see me last week? Was it something I said, something I did?” I couldn’t control the sob that escaped at the end of the sentence. My chest constricted painfully at the thought that I somehow contributed to his torment, even if involuntarily.
Although he never admitted he suffered from PTSD, the symptoms I’d witnessed had been hard to ignore. I’d read up on possible triggers, and more often than not they were unpredictable and unexplainable. But if he knew of some things that I could avoid doing or saying in the future, I wanted to know what they were.
“No, baby. It’s not you. Please don’t ever think that.”
“Then let me help you. What are you afraid of?”
He gripped my upper arms and gently pulled me away until I had no choice but to stare at his face. “I’m afraid if you know the real me, you’ll run.”
“David, do you suffer from PTSD? I don’t…” I shook my head because the lump in my throat prevented me from explaining to him there was nothing I could learn that would make me run. Just the opposite: I wanted to know every detail about him, good and bad.
At my silence he searched my face with a frown. Skimming the back of his fingers across my cheeks, he wiped away the remnants of my tears. But instead of wrapping his arms around me, he shoved his hands deep in his pockets. The loss of contact didn’t deter me. I tugged on his wrist to take his hand and, leaving him no choice, led him to my couch.
We sat side by side, with his hand still firmly clasped between mine. He stared down at them, until I said, “Look at me.” Slowly, he raised his hypnotic eyes to meet mine. “Can’t you see how much I like you? How much I want to get to know you better?” I released a short, sardonic huff of air. “I guess I suck at seduction?”
“Sweetheart, that couldn’t be farther from the truth.” His face softened when he raised his hand to tuck my hair behind my ear. “We’re from different worlds, beautiful. I don’t belong in yours, and you’re too good to belong in mine.”
“I don’t believe one word of that.”
“You don’t know me, Maygen.”
“I know enough, and I want to know more.” He shook his head stubbornly, making me decide to switch tactics. “Listen carefully, David Cavello. We’re going to order in dinner, because I’m starving, and then we’re going to make out on this couch like—” I tapped a finger against my lip before asking, “What was it you referenced yesterday? Oh, right, like horny teenagers.”
“Is that so?”
“Yep.” I stretched the word out with a nod to emphasize that my request was nonnegotiable.
“Hmm. Making out with you? That’s a tough call.” A lopsided smirk gave me a quick flash of hope. Using that to my advantage, I climbed onto his lap and smiled as his eyes widened in surprise.
“Well, I don’t want to torture you further. Maybe a few takeout menus will entice you? Thai? Italian? What would you like to eat?”
“You.” One word, and the effects were comparable to him shoving his hand into my leggings to fondle my clit. A slow smile spread. “Too soon?”
I didn’t know what to say. Well, I wanted to say—Nope, not too soon. But that little voice inside my head reminded me of the episode he had just experienced only a few moments ago. Was this his coping mechanism? Was this his way to distract from his long list of issues?
He sensed my confusion and pulled in a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”
“What for?”
“I don’t want you to think…” He scrubbed a hand over his face and released a heavy sigh. “Listen. I never expected to connect with someone as quickly as I connected with you. And I’d be lying
if I said it doesn’t scare the fuck out of me. Yes, I acted like a typical asshole guy, trying to be cool and deny it by avoiding you last week. Seeing you in the park on Saturday was like a smack to the back of my head.”
“And earlier? What happened to make you want to run away from me?”
He skimmed my face with his callused palm before moving his hand to rest on the back of my neck. “Earlier, watching you undress was torture. I’ve never felt such an urge before. And not only a sexual urge, because, fuck, I’d have to be a eunuch not to want you as badly as I do. It’s another urge that I can’t wrap my head around.” He moved both his hands to cup my face. “Maygen, if our connection scares me, then wanting to fuck you and never let you go scares me far fucking worse.”
When our eyes connected I could see the truth behind every word.
And I could see his demons as well.
—
David and I agreed on Thai, made out like horny teenagers, and then decided to take it slow.
Two things were clear—we really liked each other, and our connection was scary.
It was a list of unknowns that stretched between us for miles.
I tried to rationalize my concerns. Like, who really had guarantees when starting a relationship? Along with the newness that came when dating someone, and that flutter in your stomach that left you feeling optimistic and excited to want to see them again, came the seed of doubt that stopped you from falling too soon, too quickly. It was human nature, a way to protect your fragile heart.
Every relationship experienced these growing pains, and those that were worth it were no exception. If anything, when you were into someone the emotional gamut ran more intensely.
To say I was into David was an understatement. So of course I’d have to expect that if I did fall, I’d probably fall hard. My only hope would be that the damage I sustained wouldn’t be fatal to my heart.
Right before he left my apartment on Monday, he asked if he could take me out on Friday. Like a teenage boy asking a girl out for the first time, he adorably looked at his feet and fumbled over his words. I couldn’t resist teasing him, suggesting we go to the prom together. Since then we’d talked a few times via phone, but I hadn’t seen him all week.
He’d put a smile on my face by texting me sweet compliments.
Today, the sky is the same color as your eyes…so beautiful.
Or made me hot as hell with suggestive random observations.
Hey, beautiful…at the supermarket and saw Reddi-wip, reminded me of you.
Besides my excitement building with each day that passed, I had to deal with Betha’s relentless snooping.
“Can I formally meet him?”
“No.”
“You’re such a bitch. Why not?”
“Because.”
“Afraid he’d take one look at me and dump your ass?”
“Yep, you’re onto me.”
This argument went on in one form or another all week long.
Dax bothered me in different ways.
“Who is this guy?”
“I met him on the street.”
“What if he is a lunatic?”
“Then you’ll read about me in the news.”
“Not funny.”
So, when Friday arrived my nerves went into overdrive. You’d think it was a blind date the way I acted. We’d already been out a few times, and made out even more than that. But this wasn’t just any date with any random guy I met. This was with David, and the stakes were so much higher for me.
“What are you wearing tonight?” Betha asked as she stood in my office watching me power off my computer. It was only four, but I didn’t want to rush getting ready.
I pointed to the garment bag hanging on my coatrack. “Compliments of Dax.”
Without invite, she unzipped the front to reveal an off-white cable-knit long-sleeved sweater dress. “Really?” she asked, with a look that read—meh.
“Turn it around.”
From the front it was just a plain sweater dress, modestly scooped at the neck, hemline below the knee, with no significant amount of skin revealed. But the back plunged into a V from the shoulders to just above my ass. A bra wouldn’t be possible, nor would panties other than a G-string. The tension in the cables that ran vertically would cause the dress to skim over every curve I had. Dax knew what he was doing.
“Oh, got it. Very hot.” She leaned back and tilted her head, probably conjuring up a vision of me wearing it. “Make sure you wear your chocolate suede pumps.”
“Not boots?”
“Definitely not. You need to show leg.”
“Good call.”
She placed the dress back in the bag and zipped it up with a flourish. Holding out a hand she asked, “Manicure?”
“Check,” I said, showing her my perfectly tipped burgundy nails.
“Shaved?”
“Everywhere.”
“Condoms?”
“Check.”
“Okay, Mommy approves.” Holding my dress for me, she waited as I put on my coat and grabbed my bag before she added, “Don’t forget to ask him to your father’s holiday party.”
“I’m not sure if I will.” Side by side we walked out into the common area, forcing me to lower my voice. Even though Dax had already left for the weekend, as had most of his “servants,” I wasn’t interested in sharing my life with my co-workers. “Meeting my dad? That’s a lot of pressure on him. I don’t want to scare him away.”
The idea of David being my date next week excited me, but it also terrified me.
“Do what I told you, mention your short little friend, and he’ll volunteer to be there. Mark my words.” At the reception area, she handed me my garment bag and said, “I expect to be filled in with every detail tomorrow. We’ll do lunch; that should give him enough time to vamoose if he sleeps over.”
“He’s not sleeping over. We’re taking it slow, remember?”
“That has nothing to do with sex.”
“It has everything to do with sex.”
“You are so wrong, but I love you anyway. Have fun.” She kissed my cheek and disappeared back into the studio.
Karen looked up and winked. “She’s right. Sex has nothing to do with taking it slow. You need to tap that fine ass.”
I worked with a bunch of sluts.
Chapter 12
David
She opened the door and took my breath away yet again. It didn’t matter if she was in sweats and a T-shirt or dressed to kill, she was absolutely stunning in the most natural of ways. This dress she had on wasn’t revealing or provocative, except for how it hugged every curve like a second skin.
A shy smile spread over her pink-tinted lips. Her honey-gold waves hung around her shoulders. Even though she was petite, her legs went on for miles in her heels.
Fucking beautiful.
“Come in.”
When she turned and walked into her apartment I nearly moaned out loud at seeing the exposed smooth, pale skin of her back. The knit fabric ran over the curve of her ass and dipped between her crevice as she walked, rendering me speechless.
“Fuck…me” escaped from my lips. Obviously, since my brain shut down my cock decided to control what I should say if he could speak.
“Hmm, is that a proposition?” she said over her shoulder when I still hadn’t moved.
I walked right up behind her, spread my large hands on her torso, and pulled her back against the front of my body. She smelled delicious and looked good enough to eat.
“You don’t play fair,” I rasped with my lips against her ear.
“What did I do?” she asked breathily. My thumb rested under one breast, and each exhale caused the swell of its underside to rub against my knuckle.
“You look stunning.”
“Thank you,” she responded, tilting her head until we were nose to nose. “But, why is that a problem?”
“Because now there’s a war raging in my head that I’m having a hard time fighting
.” Unable to hide the concern she must have been feeling at the insinuation I made, I quickly added, “I’m not running, even though I should. Each time I see you it reminds me all I want to do is feast on you.”
“Again, is that a problem?” she asked with a smile.
“Only because I don’t have a doubt that once I do I’ll never want to leave.” I pulled her top lip in between my teeth and nipped before kissing it sweetly. As our kiss progressed, I turned her around and placed my hands on her ass to pull her closer and eliminate the space between us. “Your call, Maygen. Am I feasting and holding you hostage or are we going out?”
“Hmm. That’s a tough call,” she teased, using the words I once used on her. “I have the perfect solution. You take me out, and then feast on me when we get home.”
“Then we better get the fuck out of here.” I skimmed a hand up her thigh under her dress. The higher I went the more I felt only skin beneath my touch. When my palm cupped her bare ass cheek, I grunted. “Please tell me you’re wearing panties under this dress or I’m about to lose my ever-loving shit.”
“You’ll have to wait and see.” Hearing her open invitation instantly spurred an image of her spread out with my face buried in her pussy.
Releasing her from my grip, I found her coat lying on the couch and retrieved it, placing it over her arms without invitation. “We gotta go, now. Or all bets are off.”
—
Once we were cozy in the backseat of an Uber, she asked yet again, “Please tell me where we’re going.”
The adorable eager look on her face caused me to chuckle. “You don’t like surprises, do you?”
“No.” She brazenly placed her lips on my ear adding, “Please?”
And, fuck if that didn’t instantly cause seismic activity to begin rumbling in my pants.
Switching positions with her, I placed my lips on her ear. “I’ll tell you, only because there will be a time when I won’t cave in to your charms. I like to pick my battles. Plus, if you put your lips anywhere near me again I’ll tell this driver to keep driving so I can have my way with you on this seat.” I pulled away just in time to see her eyes widen.