Controlling Circumstances

by Jean Kelso

  I’m back in his room—Mike’s fraternity room. The night he stole what was rightfully mine. The night Mike thought that when I said no I meant yes and getting help from his fraternity brothers was his right—a so-called fun thing to do.

  We were in his room alone, Mike and I. I thought tonight would be the night. I was nervous. He had been waiting for me to give in and have sex, but I had been so afraid and was holding back. Mike had experience and I was a lonely, naive virgin. I’d heard stories about first times—the pain, the blood. When I finally agreed to try, I thought Mike would understand when I told him to stop, that I’d gotten scared. He knew my fears, but no, he got angry. He left the room and slammed the door. I couldn’t believe he left me. I processed it quickly. Trying to run after him to tell him I was sorry, but when I opened the door, one of his frat buddies was standing there. He had an evil grin on his face. Then another frat buddy came to stand behind him. I backed into the room, beginning to freak out. Where was Mike? What was going on? Both of the men came into the room and not two minutes later so did Mike. Mike nodded his head at one of the men. I looked between them all and backed up against the bed with my heart starting to race.

  “Mike, what is going on?” I asked him.

  “I’m tired of you teasing me all the time. I want what’s mine and you’re going to give it…One way or the other.” Mike smirked at me as he walked toward me and the bed. The other men slowly advanced as well.

  “Please, don’t do this. I’m sorry.” Tears began to fall down my face. I’d never thought that Mike could be like this. He had been so sweet, innocent and kind.

  Suddenly, I felt a jolt of pain and heat on my left cheek. Mike had just slapped me hard. Falling onto the bed. Everything from then on happened quickly, with my torn clothing and being pinned down, I had no time to process what Mike and the other frat boys had taken from me.

  Breathing hard, I shake the memory. I’m not in that room right now. It’s in the past, and this is the here and now. I push the handsome stranger away. “Stop.” I look him in the eye and beg for him to stop.

  He does stop and he steps back, but not far. He’s in touching distance, but I needed a moment. Need to gather my thoughts.

  I look down as I feel him take hold of my hands. It’s an odd thing for him to do, but gives me a calming feeling all at the same time. I slowly gaze up his body and take a few deep breaths in the process. In that short time I can thoroughly check him out.

  He looks about six feet tall, give or take, gorgeous light chocolate hair tousled about his head. Those dark blue eyes are now shining, full of concern. He has what looks like three-day-old scruff on his face. He’s in need of a shave, but man it looks sexy on him. The whole outlook of the nose, mouth and chin just makes me want to melt inside. The look of a sexy bad boy, but I am unable to fully describe it.

  He’s hot and he kissed me into oblivion. He’s not Mike. He’s nothing like Mike. At least, I hope.

  I quickly remove my hands from his. “It’s just—I’ve never...I don’t know you…. I…I….” I take a breath. “Oh—damn it, I’m stammering. I’m sorry.” I blush at him and look down at my feet. I should be angry with him. He did force himself on me, but I sort of liked it. Not the whole restraining part, but the take charge part. Stranger or not, he didn’t hurt me.

  I feel his fingers on my chin as he lifts my head to look at him. “I’m sorry, too. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  Oddly, my body relaxes with that statement. “You didn’t scare me, you just…” I think for a quick second. “Okay, yes, you did scare me, but not in a bad way.” I give him a look that I hope he understands. My heart rate’s steady—even with being in close proximity to this man. I want to kiss him again, but I still don’t know his name. Of course, I’m not that forward.

  “I understand,” he speaks huskily. “A strange man groping you in a dark corner can do that. I’m sorry, but I needed to taste you.” He looks down at me with hooded eyes and leans closer to me, our hips touching once again.

  Suddenly, my hands are above my head and against the wall. The guy leans in and starts to nibble on my bottom lip, feeling his tongue and the gentle tug of teeth.

  “My name’s Gabe, and yes, I’m very happy to meet you, Belle,” he whispers while slowly moving his playful nibbles down my chin and then to the side of my neck.

  OMG, OMG, OMG. My mind screams at me. I’m restrained. Don’t freak out, try to relax. He knows my name. What’s going on? I need to get away, run, run, run. My mind flies a mile a minute. This can’t happen, not again. I will not let this happen. Never again. I begin to struggle and pull my hands free from his grasp. He isn’t holding me tight. I hadn’t realized this, but I still feel trapped regardless. I push him away and run down the hall, out to the bar area, and find Mel.

  “I got your drink, hun. What took so long?” Mel looks at me. I’m sure she sees the fear in my eyes. Mel looks towards the bathroom and back at me.

  I can’t take it. I can’t stay here or I may freak the fuck out. As I walk to the table I tell her, “I have to go,” a tear springs from my eye as I grab my clutch off the table and run out of the bar. I pull my cell out of my clutch and type a quick text to Mel to say I’m sorry and I’ll talk to her tomorrow to explain. I hope I didn’t ruin the evening.

  CHAPTER 3

  Belle

  IT'S ONE A.M. in downtown Toronto. The streets are busy. Various people wander the sidewalks, going from bar to bar on a Friday night. I finally slow my pace from a run to a walk. I need to catch my breath, and I’m only three blocks from my apartment. Everything should be fine—I’m fine. Then I hear that voice right behind me. That sexy, husky voice from the bar. Gabe. “Hey…”

  Before I know it, I feel a hand touch my shoulder and it stops me dead in my tracks. I take a deep breath in and out. I know exactly what I’ll be looking into—his eyes. Those sexy blue eyes.

  I turn and, of course, I’m right, but something’s different. The eyes, they look hurt…confused. His whole look seems cautious.

  I still manage to yell at him. “What!”

  Then his hand leaves my body. No… touch me. It’s okay. Damn, I’m so confused.

  I stand and stare for a moment. I can’t think of anything to say. The only thought that comes to mind, and the only words to slip past my lips are, “Why me?”

  I don’t know what he expects from me. Not once in my life have I been pursued by a man of his caliber. His looks alone are beyond my norm. I mean, he’s gorgeous, and in my mind I’m fat and ugly.

  “What do you mean?” Gabe asks.

  I shift uncomfortably and glance around the busy street before I return my gaze to him. “I mean just that. Why me? I’m no one—nothing. You’re gorgeous and can probably have anyone you want, and you” —I lower my voice to a whisper of innocence— “kissed me.” It isn’t as if I didn’t thoroughly enjoy it—I did—but it scared the shit out of me. I’ve never felt such a rush being touched like that.

  Gabe blows out a breath as he steps closer to me. “You’re beautiful to me.”

  I can’t help but laugh. I don’t mean to laugh so much, but I can’t help myself. Nobody has ever right out told me I was beautiful. Not even Mike during the full three months we were together.

  “Why are you laughing?” Gabe questions me. “Do you not see this when you look in the mirror?” He looks sadly at me and softly touches my forearm.

  I flinch but don’t move.

  “No.” I’m quick to respond. “This…” I move my hands up and down my voluptuous body, “is not beautiful.” I huff.

  “Why did you run from me?” Gabe asks me. “I want to understand. I want to know you. I need to know you.”

  He leans in closer to me and his actions appear clear, but I lean away. He’s a persistent one as he continues to pursue me. He reaches up and cups his hands on my face before he leans in and gives me a quick peck on my lips.

  I shiver.

  He asks so much from me. Damn it, why
now? Oh, damn, his lips feel so warm. I need to think straight and I’m drunk. Stop this now. My thoughts run rampant about my situation, about the man who stands before me. Wow, alcohol does bad things to your mind. It’s a good thing I don’t drink often.

  “That’s a whole load you don’t need to know.” I sigh. “You don’t know me, and I definitely don’t know you.” I take a few more deep breaths. “Let’s just say it has to do with a past I want to forget and can’t, and a present that I need to deal with.” Wow, did I just say all that to a stranger. I cringe inside. Since when am I able to speak so openly? Damn you, alcohol.

  “Thank you. Again, I’m sorry.” Gabe takes my hand in his and manages to persuade me to turn and start walking. “Where do you live? I should walk you home. I want to make sure you get home safe.” A slow smile blooms on his face.

  For some reason, I feel safe with him. I’m scared but feel safe at the same time. How confusing is that?

  I allow him to walk me home and leave with him at my apartment door with no plans, no phone numbers. Nothing. I close the door behind me. Leaning against the door, I sink to the floor and begin to weep.

  Go figure that I meet someone when my future is unknown.

  CHAPTER 4

  Belle

  UGH, MONDAY MORNING. Time for another day shift at the hospital. I had the weekend to grieve the results from the doctor and to unclutter my mind from the bar Friday night. I also took time to talk everything out with Mel. It’s now a new day and time to start fresh.

  I’m a few minutes early for my shift. I review the nightly report sheets to see what kind of day I’m in for. There were several traumas in the ER overnight and a few frequent fliers—as we call them—that have come in for medication refills. One case catches my attention and strikes my emotions strongly, almost bringing me to tears. A young girl, age ten with leukemia is being admitted to hospice. She’s assigned to my workload until she transfers to the floor. I’m unsure if I’m going to be able to handle it. On any given day I wouldn’t think twice about the case, but since my own health has taken a turn for the worse, my mindset is taking a turn, too. I know that it’s unfair to my patients. It will be something I’ll have to work around. I take a few deep breaths, grab the girl’s chart, and review the orders.

  After a few minutes, I go to the room where the patient is and the patient’s parents greet me. I introduce myself and smile politely at them, then turn towards the little fragile girl—small and pale. Her stringy, light brown hair—which I imagine was once full and vibrant—lay limp on the pillow. Her big brown eyes look old and tired for her age, sensing they know that her time is almost up. Her cheeks are slightly sunken in. Through all of that, this young, brave girl still smiles at me. I feel the emotions to cry, but I pull myself together. I become the professional that I am and move towards the girl.

  I do everything I can for the girl while she’s under my care. I make her as comfortable as I can with medication, conversation and smiles. It’s one of the hardest times I’ve had in a long time, but I make it through. I think the entire day on how the world can be so cruel, how such innocent people don’t deserve to suffer such a horrible end. After talking with the little girl and her parents, I learn there’s a point in time that you have to come to terms with it. You may not be happy about it—you’re allowed to be angry—but there’s peace at the end of the tunnel. You just have to deal with everything that comes, one day at a time, and remember that you’re not alone.

  After I transfer my patients that are being admitted to the floor to their rooms and discharge patients that are okay, I sit to have a quiet moment to myself. I have an email from my doctor saying that he set up an appointment with a female oncologist in the hospital that I work in for Wednesday afternoon. For now, I have to keep my head screwed on and get through the next two work days. Then I can find out my fate. It’s going to be a very long two days.

  ***

  Monday and Tuesday flew by so fast, but then again, I thought all my shifts went by fast. They’re always busy with me running around my whole shift. I love my job though. It gives me satisfaction to know that I can help people when they need it the most. When Mel works a shift with me and we team up, the days are always wonderful. No matter what’s thrown at us in the emergency room, we handle it together, and if it’s in our hands, our patients will survive. Of course there are times when things are out of our hands, but we both have learned to thicken our skin and move on. Compassion is useful when necessary, but we can’t break down every time a patient dies on us. If we did that, we wouldn’t be nurses anymore.

  With the past two days having flown by, Wednesday looms in front of me. It’s time to face my fate.

  The reality of it all sinks in as I try to contain my sobs while meeting with the doctor. I listen to my available options, and it makes it even harder. I understand every word, every medical term that comes from the oncologist’s mouth, and yet I still can’t believe this is happening to me.

  I’m able to hold my major breakdown in until I make it home. How am I going to do this? My parents and I don’t get along at all. They always told me I was a mistake in one form or another, and their alcohol has always been more important to them than me. I have Mel, but she has her life to live. She can’t be taking care of me all the time.

  I take a deep breath, go to the liquor cupboard and pull out the tequila that Mel left a few months back. I start to pound back the shots, needing to feel numb, to feel nothing.

  After about shot three I feel warm and tingly. I wander to my room and whip off my t-shirt. I start to strip out of my jeans in search of less restricting clothing when I hear a knock on my door.

  “Who the hell….” I don’t finish my sentence. I toss on a pair of yoga shorts and a skimpy tank top and run from my room. I chug back another shot of tequila because my priority right now is to be drunk, and then I proceed to answer the door.

  Wow was that a mistake. I open the door to those eyes, that face, that oh-so-kissable mouth.

  I lick my lips and lean into the door jamb. “Hi.” I’m dumbstruck. I’m also three sheets to the wind. Damn tequila. All my inhibitions are gone and I really want to taste those lips again. I reach out to Gabe and grab the collar of his shirt, pulling him into me and kissing him.

  What the hell am I doing? I don’t know, and I don’t really care. I feel buzzed, angry, lonely and seriously horny, especially with Gabe standing at my door. Nothing like this has happened before, and, I suppose, stupider things could happen. It has been told that alcohol does make you do stupid things. Also, it’s been a long time since my itch has been scratched by a man, so what the hell? It’s just one night. It’s just sex, right?

  I press my mouth to his. Gabe’s body is close and my chest heaves with the lust that’s within me. He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me tight. I can feel his erection on my stomach. I can’t believe I gave that to him. I slip my tongue in Gabe’s mouth and he takes it willingly. It’s like he wanted it all along. I hear Gabe growl as his hands glide down from my back to my ass. I moan loudly while still kissing him.

  Gabe moves us into my apartment, kicks the door shut and shoves me up against the wall, never once releasing me in the process. His body feels amazing against mine. He grinds his pelvis with mine as he dips his body level with me and hits my core with his rigid cock. A jolt of pleasure hits, and I moan again.

  I can feel the heat rise from my core, up through my stomach, neck and into my face. I can feel the juices flowing inside my core. I’m so turned on—more so than I was at the bar. I feel Gabe’s hands now on my hips, then they slide up my sides under my tank top and his fingers tease along the base of my bra.

  I shiver at his touch, nipples hardening in the process. I start to breathe hard. I want more. I need more. I’m desperate for Gabe to give me the release my body aches for. Deep down I know I should stop. Underneath the alcohol and my stupidity, I know the man is a stranger. But he’s a sexy stranger, and Gabe makes my body feel t
hings it has never felt before. I want more of it, so I turn that part of my brain off and let go.

  Gabe’s lips are on the move and I love it. He nips my chin, around to my ear, down my throat, to the tops of my breasts. It all feels incredible and I let out a little shudder. Gabe’s hands play at the base of my bra for a few moments before they move slowly down to my shorts. Goose bumps rise with his touch, my skin’s sensitive to the touch of his fingers as they caress me.

  “You feel so good,” Gabe groans. His hands reach the seam to my shorts.

  I gasp at his bluntness, his bravery to dare such intimacy, but I enjoy every minute of it.

  Gabe slips one hand below the waistband, under my panties, until he finds my tuft of soft, curly hair. He swirls his fingers around for a quick moment and moves farther down into utter dampness. I begin to get lost in the sensual gift he is giving me, feeling the utmost pleasure.

  Gabe groans. “So beautiful and so wet.”

  I’m in what feels like a fantasy-land. I can’t think—all I can do is feel. His mouth, his fingers…everything. My skin tingles to his touch. A warm feeling swims through me. Tears of pleasure pool in my eyes. It’s so much and not enough all at the same time, but it all feels so amazing. This man is driving me to orgasm and we haven’t even had sex yet. I don’t know what to do. I’m inexperienced, so I just go with what feels right.