Tainted Love

by Jaimie Roberts

  He doesn't flinch one bit when I try to push him away. Instead, he pulls me to him, not accepting my rejection. Refusing to give in to my dismissal, he places my head to his chest, his hand gently stroking my hair.

  "You don't ever have to feel like you're alone."

  Those words. They fucking break me.

  The dam breaks, and I cry. I cry in Charlie's arms with him never wavering. He holds me until I'm done, and even after I've calmed, he doesn’t let go. It's only when I pull away that he releases his grip on me. He places his hands on both of my cheeks and says, "It takes a special someone to give all they can and expect nothing in return. But even that special someone needs someone too." Tears flood down my cheeks, and all Charlie does is wipe them away. “Fancy a cuppa?” he offers, brandishing a smile that immediately stops my tears and has me laughing instead. I pull out my phone, checking that there’re no messages from Chris. When I see none, I nod my head. If I get a message from Chris saying he’s coming home, that will be my cue to leave. For now, though, I really don’t want to be alone.

  He holds out his hand to me, and I take it, warming in the glow of feeling his soft touch. “Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden?”

  Charlie snorts like I’ve just cracked the biggest joke. “Are you saying that I wasn’t before?”

  “I’m not saying that,” I reply as we walk through the door and make our way upstairs to his kitchen. “It’s just we never really spoke much before. That was, up until… you know.”

  I don’t want to say the word attack. He knows what I’m referring to without me having to say it.

  Once I’m seated at his kitchen table, Charlie busies himself putting the kettle on. “I’m a private person, Bri. Always have been. It doesn’t mean that I’m not a nice person. I guess—if I’m honest—if I don’t speak much to anyone, then I don’t see them as real people.”

  My eyes fixate on the contours of his shoulders. The way they flex as he pulls out the mugs and places the teabags inside.

  “That’s an awfully lonely existence,” I reply, knowing there’s a lot more to Charlie than meets the eye.

  He doesn’t respond, just carries on making tea. Once done, he places my steaming mug in front of me and sits down opposite, staring at me for a moment.

  “Do you know who that card was from?” My shoulders stiffen at the mention of it. I nod my head. “Want to tell me?”

  Normally, I would have shaken my head and be done with it, but today hasn’t exactly been normal. Charlie’s luckily caught me at a weak spot.

  “It was from my uncle.”

  “How do you know?”

  I know because he used to write shit like Property of Pete Wilkinson on my skin whenever he got the chance.

  “I recognised his handwriting.”

  He licks his lips slowly, a welcome distraction in my moment of discomfort. “What happened?”

  His question snaps me back to reality—an all true, gut-wrenching reality that I never revisit, because if I do, I’ll never forgive myself.

  “By the time I turned fifteen, my brother had left for the army, and I was left with an alcoholic mother and a disinterested father. The only person who paid attention to me was my father’s brother, Pete. The problem was that Pete gave me a little too much attention. My mother would spend all her benefits on booze, leaving me starving.” I close my eyes, the disgust worming its way through my insides like a snake releasing its venom, turning everything black. “I don’t want to say what happened. I’m too ashamed.”

  Charlie leans over the table, capturing my attention. “You did things for him to get food.”

  And there it is. The one thing I have been keeping trapped inside of me for so long that, for a while, I’d convinced myself that all that happened back then was a nightmare. One of my dark secrets is out, laid bare for my boss to pick apart and judge me for.

  How dare he make me do that!

  “See, now you know. Your employee used to be a whore—for her own uncle, no less.”

  Charlie’s nostrils flare, an angered exhale leaving them. “You were fifteen, Bri. A fucking child. You did what you had to do to survive.”

  I slap my hand on the table. “I could have done it another way, though, couldn’t I? I could’ve begged on the street for money to buy food, or better still, begged for actual food. I could have gone to a shelter—anything that didn’t mean letting my uncle fuck me from behind while I gorged on a fucking cheese sandwich!” I swipe away angry tears with my fingers and get up. I can’t deal with this shit anymore. I can’t even look at Charlie, let alone have a cup of tea with him.

  So I get up, my chair scraping as I raise to my feet. “I need to go. I can’t be here.”

  I make a move towards the stairs, but Charlie grabs me, immediately pulling me to his chest. “Fuck, Bri. Your parents were the worst scum in the universe for not protecting you from that monster. Everything that happened to you was beyond your control. You never made those choices, don’t you understand? It was never your fault, Bri. You were just a fucking child.”

  For the second time today, my tears come, and they don’t stop. I relax in the comfort of Charlie’s arms, taking in his cedarwood scent and basking in the warmth of his strong arms and solid chest. After a while when I’m calmer, Charlie strokes my hair, and I look up, my watery eyes meeting his kind ones. A soft smile graces his lips as he brushes my hair from my eyes. I’m lost. So lost in those kind, caramel eyes of his that I don’t think when I tiptoe up, cupping his face in my hands, and I press my lips to his. So lost I am that it doesn’t even register when his hands tug at mine, forcing our kiss apart.

  Rejection washes over me like bad skin. The warmth I had while being near him has dissipated from the ice cold water he just poured over me.

  “I’m such an idiot,” I say, more to myself than him. Charlie’s eyes widen as he takes a step forward, but I halt him by taking a step back. “I need to go.” I can’t even look at him as I make a run for the stairs.

  “Bri, please, it’s not what you’re thinking!” he shouts after me as I rush down the stairs.

  “I’m sorry!” I shout back. “I’m so sorry.”

  And I mean it. I fucked up. Charlie has never given me cause to think that he has any attraction to me whatsoever. He’s my boss, or up until this moment when I made this colossal fuck-up, he was. But, even if I manage to keep my job, I won’t be able to look at him. No doubt he won’t be able to look at me either. I’ve gone and spoilt everything. How can I even turn up for work tomorrow without wanting to throw a paper bag over my head in shame?

  In my haste to get away, I soon realise that I’ve left my handbag in the shop. I need it as it has my contraceptive pills in there, but there’s no way I’m going back for them right now. I’ll sneak in later when he’s left the shop completely unattended and fetch it then.

  As I wipe the tears away on my journey home, it dawns on me that I’ve just kissed someone who isn’t Chris. If he knew I had even thought about Charlie in that way, it would completely and utterly crush him.

  I truly am a monster.

  An undeniably shameful, despicable monster. Maybe I’m just kidding myself, and I really don’t deserve to be loved after all. Maybe, I am doomed to live this life because it’s all I fucking deserve. I don’t want to hurt Chris—that is my last intention. I just want to be able to breathe for once. I want to be able to live at least one day where I don’t think I’m sick in the head or delusional for thinking I can carry on this life without there being consequences.

  And there will be consequences. I can feel it in my gut. My sickness. It surrounds me like a thousand bugs crawling all over my skin. I’m trying my hardest to fend them off, scratching at every pore in hope that it’ll get rid of them, but I know they will never leave. They’re in way too deep, crawling inside me, infecting every morsel of my body until there’s nothing left but this void within.

  A life outside of Chris. I had been kidding myself to think that c
ould ever happen. I would never leave him—even if I were faced with the opportunity. So why is that thought in my head still? Am I a masochist? Do I purposefully or subconsciously set myself up for the inevitable failure, because deep down, I know?

  I deserve it. I deserve it all.

  At the apartment block, I turn the ignition off and just stare into space. I don’t even remember the journey home, my head filled with so many emotions that I can’t compartmentalise them fast enough. I try my damn hardest to take parts of what Chris and I have and place them in a box labeled “something good”. But how can I have a box of “something good” when everything we currently have is in a box labelled “something very bad”?

  All I want to do now is crawl into my bed, place the duvet over my head, and shut out the world and everyone in it. It’s bad enough that I told my boss—the guy who’s been practically ignoring me these past six months—one of my deepest, darkest secrets, but then I go and try to kiss him?! What was I thinking???

  My phone pinging jerks me out of my stupor. I glance down at it learning that Chris is on his way home, and not only that, he has an exciting proposition to lay out in front of me. Exciting sounds good right about now. Anything other than this cloud of dark despair currently hovering above my head.

  I lock the car up and take my time heading to the apartment where I pour myself a well-deserved scotch before sitting on the sofa to wait for Chris. Around fifteen minutes later, he turns up, a big, beaming smile on his face that’s so welcome that I can’t help but match it. Chris halts a moment after closing the door behind him, calculating my mood. Despite my smile, he can sense something’s off. He can read me way too well.

  “What’s happened?”

  I brush everything off by saying, “Just a bad day at the office, that’s all.”

  “Want to talk about it?” he asks, sitting down next to me and bringing my feet up over his legs.

  I take a swig of my drink, handing him the rest which he instantly sucks downs. “Not really. I would much rather talk about this exciting proposition of yours,” I answer, in my best carefree, playful manner. It does the trick because he shifts slightly towards me, his face all lit up like a Christmas tree.

  “How would you feel about a two-week holiday with me and the guys? And not just any holiday, a sailing holiday where we’ll travel to southern Spain and back.”

  I frown, taking the glass from him and placing it on the coffee table. “Hold on, what about your supplier? This morning it was like the world was ending, and now we’re going away on holiday? Aren’t you wanting to sort things out first?”

  He takes my hands in his. “It is sorted, the brother of our supplier has agreed to take over. It’s going to take a couple of weeks—hence, I feel we deserve this break. So,” he says, patting my hand, “what do you say? Fancy two weeks of sun, sea, and plenty of sex?”

  I glance away, biting my lip. Normally, I would have made an excuse not to go away as I would have wanted to stay and be at the shop, but after all that’s happened today, a holiday is the most obvious solution. Earlier, I wanted nothing more than to run away, and although it’s only for two weeks, it’ll be two weeks of not having to worry about Charlie, my uncle, or Brandon’s family. Two weeks of not having to think about any of this shit may just be the recipe I need.

  With relief washing over me in waves, I glance back at Chris, his eager expression meeting my eyes. “Yes, of course I’ll go! Nothing would make me happier right now.”

  Chris whoops, scooting me up into his arms, making me laugh. God, it feels good to laugh after my horrific day. And the idea of getting away from it all—literally—has me smiling the more I think about it.

  “How are we getting this boat?” I ask, once the euphoria dies.

  Chris nibbles gently on my neck, and as always, a fire start deep within my belly. A stab of guilt riles through me when I think about Charlie and me trying to kiss him earlier, but I will that shit down. This is a happy moment, and I want to bottle it up and keep it as long as possible.

  “Well,” he begins, threading his fingers through mine, his other hand resting gently on my hip. “It just so happens that my supplier has a boat docked at a place called Sotogrande in Spain. His brother wants the boat back on UK soil, but he’s too busy dealing with his death to go get it himself. Since we will be out of action for a while, I thought it might be good for us and the guys to go on a little break, and what better break than to offer to fly to Spain and sail the boat back for him? Of course, the condition being that we take our time and use it for our own pleasure. He said as long as we don’t crash it, then we’re good to go. Plus we’ll end up doing him a huge favour. And what’s even better is Michael’s granddad used to sail boats and taught him from when he was in his early teens. It couldn’t be more perfect.”

  This is an opportunity of a lifetime. How many get the chance to sail across Europe on a luxury yacht? And no doubt it will be luxurious.

  “When can we go?”

  “We go whenever you’re ready. If you need to square it with Charlie, we can wait.”

  “How about Saturday?”

  His head rears back, gauging me. “You mean Saturday, as in this Saturday? As in two days’ time, Saturday?”

  I giggle into his chest and revel in the cocoon of his arms. “Yes, silly. I mean this Saturday.”

  His arms wrap tightly around me, squeezing me to him. “Wow, I wasn’t expecting you to want to leave so soon. Do you think Charlie will be okay with this at such short notice?”

  All I need to do is make sure all the bookkeeping is up to date by tomorrow afternoon, and that will be enough. Besides, I have an inkling that after tonight, Charlie will want nothing more than to get rid of me for two weeks. I’m even wondering whether I will have a job to go back to at all after my little stunt.

  “I’ll speak with him first thing in the morning, but I have a feeling he won’t mind. Besides, when have I ever taken time off since working there—other than that time…” I stop before I mention it as it will only bring up bad memories for the both of us. To change the subject, I say, “I left my handbag at work and need to get it.”

  Kissing my cheek, he lightly nibbles my earlobe. “Can’t you just collect it tomorrow?”

  Breathing heavily at his touch, I shudder, my nipples instantly hardening. “I can’t. It has my pills in there. I need to take one tonight, otherwise I won’t be protected.”

  Chris probes his erection into my butt, pushing me farther into it, making us both moan. “Surely as long as you take one first thing in the morning you’ll be protected?”

  I wouldn’t risk it if it was a small chance as it would still be a chance. And there’s no way I’m taking that chance with Chris.

  “No, Chris, I won’t be. It’s important that I keep taking them regularly.”

  His shoulders sag back into the sofa admitting defeat. “Okay, I’ll take you on the bike. Let’s have dinner first, at least.”

  I nod my head. “Deal.”

  I get up off his lap and make my way to the kitchen, Chris following behind. “Fuck, your arse is the most perfect specimen I have ever seen. Every time you present it in front of me, I just want to bend you over and fuck you as I smack it… repeatedly.” The final word is a lustful whisper that has my loins waking up yet again. I can’t place my finger on what happens when I’m around Chris. All I know is that sense of decency flies straight out of the window, and all I’m left with is this sinful, twisted need that always… always needs satiating.

  “Maybe later,” I reply, turning around and placing my hands on his chest, halting him from going any farther. If I don’t end this now, I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop. “Dinner first, my handbag second, and then we have the rest of the night to do whatever we want.”

  He pouts, making me laugh, but he doesn’t push it any further. We’re both aware that in the grand scheme of things, when we’re alone later, it will end up in sex.

  I busy myself for the next ha
lf-hour rustling up chicken and noodles. By the time we’ve eaten and washed up after ourselves, it’s getting close to nine and completely pitch-black outside.

  The next thing I know, Chris is standing in the hallway, his extra helmet outstretched for me to take. “My, my, we are eager, aren’t we?” I tease, putting my jacket on quickly and taking the helmet from him.

  “The sooner we get your bag, the sooner we can get home and talk about all wonderful things we’re going to do on holiday as I ravish your body.”

  Heat pools in my stomach as I picture that very scene in my head. “I’m looking forward to that,” I admit.

  We make the journey in just over five minutes, Chris pulling up to the kerb. I get off the bike and hand him my helmet, saying that I’ll be back in a jiffy.

  I note all is dark inside the shop, and for that I’m truly grateful. It means Charlie won’t be around for me to see. Regardless, I put the key in the shop’s lock as quietly as I can and push it open just enough for me to squeeze through and grab the bell just before it makes a noise. It’s awkward, trying to hold it and wedge myself through the door, but I somehow manage it. I breathe a sigh of relief as I close the door behind me and sneak up to the counter to grab my handbag. As I grab it, placing it over my shoulder, I’m just about to leave when a moaning sound halts me in my tracks. My breath catches as I home in on the noise, realising all too soon that it wasn’t my imagination.

  As steadily as I can, I step forward towards the entrance of the hallway into the back. The only light coming through is the moon shining on the one person I wasn’t expecting to see. He’s by the back door, standing, but kind of hunched over, his head back, his eyes closed. My eyes glance down to see what is giving him that pleasurable look on his face when I see a woman, on her knees, fully clothed but with her skirt hitched up to just below her arse. Charlie’s hand is fisted in her hair as she takes his cock deep into her mouth over and over again.

  All sorts of emotions wash over me. Rejection again, yes. Betrayal of sorts, yes—although I have absolutely no right whatsoever to feel that way—but another emotion shocks me as I watch.