by Lily Zante
“Same again,” Melissa said, when he looked her way and thankfully he didn’t bat an eyelid. He was on his best behavior now.
“I busted a gut to get here. Sorry, I didn’t think it was going to take this long. There was so much traffic.”
Melissa wasn’t interested in traffic conditions. “What do you think?”
Her friend propped her arms up on the table and steepled her fingers, grinning at Melissa. “He’s hot!” Heather ducked her head down, close to Melissa’s. “And he looks pretty fit, too. Great body.” Luckily the noise in the background damped down their conversation. She nudged her friend. “I totally get why you’re always over at his place. Heck, if I had a guy who looked so hot, I’d spend most of the day in bed, too.”
“We do not do that,” replied Melissa, embarrassed.
“Don’t be shy, hon.” Heather slapped her playfully. “You don’t have to apologize for it.”
Melissa’s cheeks heated. She didn’t want to discuss any of this—and yet she wondered how Heather would react if she were in Melissa’s shoes, when he filmed her half undressed.
Maybe Heather would rise to the occasion.
Maybe Heather would consider it foreplay.
Maybe Melissa was the one with the problem.
“I bet he’s great in bed. He is, isn’t he?” Heather asked as Matt started to walk back with their drinks.
“Stop it,” Melissa hissed, seeing Matt return.
“So you’re the friend I keep hearing about?” Matt said, as he placed their drinks on the table and sat down.
“I am that friend,” replied Heather. “Thanks for the drink.”
Matt shrugged. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“All good, I hope.” Heather twirled an unruly bleached lock of curls around her finger.
“I told him we’ve known each other for years,” said Melissa.
“Yeah, so you keep saying.” He barely glanced at her.
Heather looked at Melissa for an unsure moment. “We went to college together and then we ended up wanting to work in the city and we were lucky enough to find Diana and her beautiful condo.”
“Lucky? How’s that?” Matt shuffled his body closer towards Melissa.
“She’s hardly ever there,” replied Melissa, and then wondered if she’d already told him that before. “It feels as though the place is ours.” And Diana didn’t charge them sky high rent either. They put it down to her taking them on because they were two girls, and they seemed decent by her standards, no mad parties or a different boyfriend coming over each week.
“We’re near to downtown,” said Heather.
“So there is no excuse for you not to get to the gym each morning, is there?” he said, turning to Melissa.
The bloody gym. They always ended up talking about the gym and his workouts. Matt leaned in and squeezed her thigh. She couldn’t tell if he’d meant that in his usual snide, sarcastic way or if he was being nice to her.
She felt the heat of Heather’s quick glance at her. “She’s loving the workouts,” said Heather, and Melissa knew exactly which types of workouts she was talking about. She looked daggers at her friend.
“Hard to tell with her. She rolls through the doors late most days,” said Matt tightly.
“Don’t talk about me as if I’m not here.” Melissa sipped her drink and gave him a hard stare.
“She’s a new and improved Mel. We’ll get there yet,” Matt announced smugly, not reacting to her comment. He seemed to be taking credit for her results.
Heather came to her rescue. “Melissa doesn’t need any improvement. She’s perfect exactly the way she is.”
“I never said she wasn’t perfect. All things can be improved.”
“And you’re saying that because you’ve done a lot of improvement work on yourself, have you?” Heather stared him down.
“Come on, guys.” Melissa tried to intervene, to nip it in the bud, before it became any bigger.
“Nothing wrong with working out. You should try it sometime.” His expression was cool as he glared back at Heather.
“I like breaking out in a sweat every now and then, but using the gym isn’t my preferred route.” Heather welcomed the challenge, and Melissa could see by the way her friend’s eyes flashed and the slight wobble in her voice that she was getting angrier the longer she spoke to Matt.
“Do you guys want to hang out here or shall we get something to eat?” Melissa said, though she knew Matt would want to go home and cook his carefully constructed dietary protein meal.
But they ignored her, and continued to lock horns. Melissa tuned out of the conversation and left them to their verbal sparring. She tuned into the noise around them instead. Casting her glance around the bar, she wondered what it would be like to meet that coffee shop guy—for she had no other way to label him—in a place like this. What would they talk about?
“You know what, hon?” Heather touched Melissa on the wrist. “Finn wanted to meet up tonight, and I might catch him if I leave now.” Heather’s face was tight and she’d already made up her mind, with one of her arms through her coat sleeve. Beside her, Matt sat quietly, not even offering the apology Melissa wanted him so desperately to make. But, knowing him as well as she did now, she didn’t expect an apology, or anything else from him.
Knowing that the brunt of Heather’s rage was directed at Matt, Melissa couldn’t ask her friend to stay. “Okay, I’ll see you later. Shall I wait up?”
“It’s not going to be a late night.” Heather stopped, and Melissa got the impression that she’d have asked her along if Matt weren’t here.
Heather stood up, grabbed her bag and looked straight at Matt. “It’s been interesting meeting you. We must do it again sometime.” She gave him a plastic smile, so forced that her cheeks rose upwards.
“Definitely,” Matt replied, in a completely put-on voice.
Heather vanished and she and Matt faced each other miserably again. For a moment they sat in subdued silence. Melissa didn’t even want to look at him, let alone make conversation.
“I never thought your friend would be so awkward,” he said.
And she probably never thought you would be such a pigheaded moron, Melissa thought but she couldn’t bring herself to say it, knowing it would only lead to further trouble.
Suddenly, she craved solitude. She wanted to go home, by herself, to a quiet apartment and spend the evening doing nothing. The idea of staring at nothing and listening to the sound of silence beckoned. She got up and started putting on her coat.
“What are you doing?” he asked, jerking up from a semi-slouched position. “Don’t you want to hang around a bit more?”
She picked up her bag, hung it from her shoulder. “No. I need to get back. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“What’s the matter?” he asked, puzzled. It pissed her off even more that he seemed totally ignorant as to why she was angry. The guy had no idea.
“I’ll see you at the gym then.”
She stopped and stared at him with contempt. “I’m not coming to the gym.” How could he be so insensitive?
“Have it your way.” He turned back to his drink and she closed her eyes, taking a breath in before she stepped away. It was a good thing Heather had gone off to meet her friend. It meant she wouldn’t be at home to grill her about this “gorgeous” guy she was dating.
Chapter 9
She felt the tears well up in her eyes as she stormed out.
“Mel. Mel.” She heard his strangled voice behind her but she carried on walking faster, hoping he’d give up and disappear. Then an arm tugged at hers and anchored her. “Mel, I’m sorry.”
She hoped the dark of the night would hide her watery eyes. Saying nothing, she dragged her gaze to meet his.
“I’m sorry. I am. Your friend brushed me the wrong way—her making out like I was putting you down.”
You were putting me down. But Melissa said nothing as he clamped his hands on either side of her shoulders an
d slowly slid them down to her elbows.
“I guess I wasn’t in the right frame of mind. What with seeing you with that guy earlier.”
“Which guy?”
He huffed out loudly, as if he couldn’t remember his name. “Your boss’s boyfriend.”
Her neck muscles tightened. “Ethan? Why would that make you angry? He’s Nadine’s boyfriend.”
Matt shook his head; the words weren’t coming easy and she could see he was desperate for her to hear him out. “It makes me mad. I can’t explain it. I’m trying.”
She let out her breath slowly. “I can’t get used to your…to your…your moods.” She had to choose her words carefully even now, fearful that she’d set him off again.
To her surprise, he agreed. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m trying to get better at it.”
“Try harder.” She had dared to say it.
“I will.” He still held her hand, and in an instant he seemed to have calmed down.
“Sometimes you say things that hurt and I don’t think you realize how hurtful your words can be.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, inching closer. “Sometimes I feel you don’t take my training seriously enough.”
She clenched her lips together. It’s only a workout.
“You know I’m crazy about you, don’t you, Mel?” He slid his hands down to meet her hands. But Melissa kept her hands tight, not easily melding with his. Though she was reluctantly acknowledging the thaw that was coming over her.
“Do you feel like watching a movie?” he asked.
She stiffened. A minute ago she’d have been totally against it, but he always did this to her. Mixed up her feelings. At a time when she should have been annoyed with him, he somehow managed to pull her guard down.
“We could watch one of those mushy romances you like,” he suggested, trying, but failing to hide his thinly veiled contempt. He took her hand as they slowly started to amble down the street.
She knew he wouldn’t want to do that—but if he was offering, and he seemed to be determined to give up his run tonight. Maybe this time would be different. It was still early evening and this was kind of spontaneous for them. For him. Usually, depending on his regime, all their dates had to be planned with military precision. He was trying his best; she had to give him that.
“You’d watch a romantic film?” She glanced sideways at him, looking at him unobstructed, as he kept his eyes fixed ahead.
“Anything, for you.” He turned his head to look at her.
“You wouldn’t change your mind the minute we got there and switch it to some car-chasing, bullet-pounding, fist-fighting, testosterone-loaded film instead?” Like he’d done before on one of their earlier dates. They’d decided on a thriller that might appeal to them both, since he wouldn’t entertain the idea of watching a girl’s chick flick. But when they’d arrived at the cinema, he’d pulled that big, puppy-eyed look of his and asked if she’d mind watching the new Vin Diesel film instead. So they’d ended up doing that. It wasn’t so bad either, once she got into it—plenty of action and adventure and a bit of a love interest.
He stopped walking and pulled her to his chest. “But if you’d rather not, and if you’re home alone, I could see you home and visit your place, make this a night of two firsts.”
“You’d come over?”
“Sure, why not? You’re always saying it isn’t far. And I’ll apologize to that friend of yours.”
The idea appealed. He’d take her home, and she’d get to go home early. She searched his face. He appeared to be trying and she couldn’t turn him down now, after always trying to get him to come to her place. Not now that he was up for it.
“I’m not in the mood for a movie,” she answered. And the decision was made.
“Nice place,” he exclaimed, looking around the large open-plan kitchen dining room. “This is so cool.” She smiled, because this had also been the exact same reaction she and Heather had had when Diana had first shown them around.
She took him around, because he insisted on seeing the rest of it. It was so much bigger and nicer than where he currently rented. When he saw her bedroom, which was nearly three times the size of his, he was blown away. “What the—?” he exclaimed. His voice oozed pure envy as he walked around, examining her private space.
“Nice bed,” he commented, looking over at her mischievously. He walked over to her then and grabbed her hand. It didn’t look as though he was leaving anytime soon. She’d assumed he would walk her to the door, stay a short while and then leave. He was so regimental about his own timetable, she hadn’t expected him to hang around. She’d assumed his seeing her home was his way of making it up to her. “What about your run?” she reminded him.
“Screw the run.” he said hoarsely, leaning in to kiss her. She hadn’t factored in his male urges. By now, with his little kisses and endearments along the way, she’d come around to forgiving him.
He pulled away and sat on her bed. “Come here,” he said, patting down the space beside him. She giggled, but scooted over anyway, and barely had time to land her butt on the bed before he pulled her over so that they were both lying on their side. He kissed her hard, one hand furiously exploring her back, while his other pulled out her blouse. He was a great kisser, and she felt his urgency like a live wire igniting deeply buried desire in her. She ran her hands along his back, feeling his hard muscles, and a primal part of her responded in kind.
“This is a no photo zone.” She pulled her lips away from his and warned him, holding up a finger against his mouth which threatened to devour her.
“Okay,” he breathed, and plundered her with his lips again.
“Hey,” she said, and struggled to come up for air. “How about we slow down?” Making out was fine, but she wasn’t in the mood for full-blown sex right now. “Grab something to eat,” she added, seeing him looking at her hungrily.
“This is a much better way of burning calories.” His hot breath licked her face, before his lips came gnashing down. He slipped his hand lower and lifted her skirt.
“Matt.” She raised her voice, as her chest tightened with his touch.
“You know you want it.” He tipped her back until she was flat against the mattress and pinned her down with his strong body. His hips were raised and ready, an inch from hers, and his dark eyes stared down at her. He bent down and claimed her mouth again. She struggled to free her legs, but he had her trapped now that he’d moved on top of her.
White-hot anger knotted in her stomach and fear crawled slowly up her throat. He held both her hands together with one of his, raised above her head, while his tongue dipped inside her mouth, violating her. She angled her hips, tried to hit him where it hurt with her hip. Tried, and failed. She thrashed her neck as much as she could from side to side.
Surprised, he stopped, lifted his head. “What?”
“I don’t want this,” she whispered, in a voice that didn’t sound like hers.
“Yeah, you do.” His free hand crawled up her thigh and his fingers flirted with the crotch of her panties. She was as dry as toast.
“Yeah, baby, you do want it,” he moaned hungrily, before dipping his finger inside her.
“No,” she yelled. Her voice sounded low and weak when inside she was screaming at full volume.
She wriggled to kick him hard, but had never felt so powerless to move. He could do whatever he wanted and nobody would know. The thought flashed before her to give in, that maybe on some deep level she did want it, had given him the signals that she did. After all, she’d been lying on the bed with him long enough, making out.
If he’d been gentler with her, let her lead, she’d have gotten into the mood.
But forcing her as he had…
No, she did not want this. Leaden chains clanked around her, squeezing out the air in her lungs. She spluttered with fear, her heart pumping, beating louder and constricting her lungs until she gasped for air. “Please, no.” She thought she screamed them out but the words
died in mid-air.
He kept his finger inside her, shifted his greedy face down to her chest, then, unable to open her buttons, he grazed his lips against her neck.
“Stop it,” she hissed. “Stop it.” Panic scratched her throat as the words fell on deaf ears. She tried to hit him with her shoulder, failed. Tried to hit him with her hip, failed. Tried to bring up her knee, couldn’t.
“Melissa? Are you back?” In the faint distance the sound of footsteps on the solid oak flooring announced Heather’s return. Matt stopped mid-motion, slipped his hand away from her panties and looked down at her with hooded eyes, his face blood red. The chains that choked her lungs slowly came undone. She gasped for air, her mind battling to make sense of what he had nearly done.
Taking her chance she slid her hands out of his weakening grasp. He rolled off her, and she escaped the bed.
With shaky legs she backed away from him. Inside, her body felt hollow, as if there were nothing under the skin, not even blood or bone.
“Great timing.” She heard him mutter while he zipped up his trousers.
He wouldn’t have stopped.
“You’d have carried on, wouldn’t you?” She moved away, her insides churning like stew on a slow cooker. She tried to breathe evenly—but she felt queasy and weak.
“Mel,” he said, moving towards her. A line creased as his eyebrows drew closer together. “You wanted it too. Don’t say you didn’t.” He reached out and put his hand to her face, but she backed away.
“No means no.”
He looked at her, totally shocked. “You think I’d have forced myself on you?”
“You did force yourself.”
“We were fooling around.”
“You were fooling around. I told you to stop.”
“But you’re always a bit cold in the beginning, until I get your juices going.” The smile that snaked across his face filled her with disgust.
“You’re sick.”
“No, baby, that’s how you are—until you get all hot and wet and then you get so—”