The Affair 1 & 2: a New Adult Series

by Olivia Grace

  “I have to go,” I told her, which I hated to. I was already being fined for leaving last night, and there I was leaving again. “Can you tell Rosie that something happened to my mother and that I have to leave?”

  I was shaking as I stood. The fear had me light headed, so I stumbled. Midnight reached out and held my arm. “Can you drive?”

  “Yes,” I answered with shaky breath. “I have to.”

  She looked at me with concern all over face. “Nah, c’mon. I’ll drive you.”

  “No,” I insisted as I shook my head. “The hospital is all the way in Indiana.”

  But she insisted, with the take-no-bullshit stern expression that she usually gave me. “It’s fine. I’ll take you. I got you. Now, let’s go.”

  Eighteen

  karrie

  On the way to the hospital, I called Sabrina. When I told her what was going on, she promised to be there when I got there.

  The ride in Midnight’s Range Rover was so quiet that it was unnerving. I wanted to thank her for being so nice, but I couldn’t get my thoughts together enough to form a complete sentence. My mother was everything to me. She had sacrificed so much for me. Besides Sabrina, she was my only friend. My existence was so dependent upon her that I knew that I could not live without her.

  I rode in silence. The only noise leaving me was the sound of my cries. Memories of her flooded my mind; the times we spent in bed snuggled together on a wintery night watching a Lifetime movie, the times that I would attempt to mend her broken heart when a boyfriend left, the times that she would attempt to mend mine when Tyler would break mine.

  The memories caused tears to flow more heavily. I tried to wipe them away and more would come. I kept checking my phone for updates from Sandy, but there were none.

  I felt a hand on my knee. I looked towards the driver’s seat and met Midnight’s eyes. Her compassion was weird to me but genuine, and I appreciated it.

  “Thank you, Midnight,” I cried. I am sure I looked gross to her. I was crying from my eyes and nose, and attempting to wipe up the mess.

  She held a sympathetic gaze. She reached into the middle console, handed me napkins, and closed it shut.

  “My name is Keisha,” she said with a sigh. She wasn’t irritated. Her heavy breath was full of surrender. She was giving up her hard exterior. “Keisha Marie Sullivan. I have three kids. Two sons; eleven and three. My daughter is seven. I’m a single mother. My children’s father left me for my best friend five years ago. They moved to some big house in the suburbs and left me in the hood to raise my kids with a job that paid a little over eleven dollars an hour. They got married two months after he left me.” She chuckled, cynically, with a shake of her head as if the memory still pissed her off. “I had to move in with my mother. She helped me out a lot. She was like a savior to me and my children, until she passed away three years ago. It was so sudden. Breast cancer … That’s when I started dancing.” Her sorrow met the sorrow in my eyes for a few seconds until she had to tear away and put her eyes back on the road. “I’m sorry if I come off like a bitch sometimes, but I am not one of those performers that dance because I think it’s sexy or cute. I take it seriously, because it takes care of my family. I just hate to see anyone who doesn’t take it as seriously as me. I don’t see that in you. I could tell the first day that you walked into the locker room that you didn’t really want to be there… but you had to be there. Rosie asks me to make sure that her headliners stay in line. If I do that in a nonconventional bitchy way, then I apologize. But it’s a way of showing that I respect you and that I care… a fucked up way, I do admit.”

  We shared a laugh. Fear was still resonating in my heart for my mom, but from then on, I told Keisha how much my mother meant to me. She nodded her head as I told her how my mother struggled to raise me. She could identify with that bond. She smiled at the memories that I shared with her that were once in my head.

  I worshipped and celebrated my mother until we were arriving at Community Hospital.

  “Here, save my number in your phone real quick. Text me to let me know how things are.”

  I hurriedly saved Keisha’s number in my phone before hopping out.

  “Thanks again.” I attempted to smile before shutting the door and making a mad dash for the Emergency Room doors.

  ****

  Mom was out of it, but the doctors promised that there were no signs of physical damage. Sandy and I were so relieved. Our best friend was okay. The doctors would continue to run test to make sure of it during the two days that they would keep her at the hospital.

  Once the coast was clear, I sent Keisha a text, telling her that everything was okay. She responded with a smiley face, along with a message that Rosie insisted that I take the next night off to spend time with Mom. Even Brad’s messages were full of concern, but he was quickly relieved when I promised him that the close was clear, as long as Mom followed doctor’s orders.

  “I was so scared,” I said with a big sigh of relief as I lay my head on Sabrina’s shoulder.

  It was a relief that my fears were wrong and that my mother would be fine. But the reality that these things could happen, that my mother was older, and I could lose her at any moment, left such an eerie feeling over me. It was a sick reality that I was finally forced to face. I wasn’t ready.

  Sabrina wrapped her arms around my shoulders. I felt her kiss the top of my head. As we sat in the waiting area of the ICU, there as a huge elephant in the room. We hadn’t mentioned our argument that occurred earlier that day. This was our first time being alone since I had arrived. Being in my mother’s room had been total chaos for hours as visitor after visitor arrived.

  Even my father had come. I felt so bad for him. The death of Celeste had weighed heavily on him. Brad was his friend. He hated how Brad was being perceived by some people in town. My dad wanted desperately to prove his friend’s innocence to the public by finding Celeste’s killer, but he had no luck. Now, this. My poor father was a wreck. They hadn’t been lovers in years, but he and my mom held a respect for each other that maintained their friendship over the years. As he held my mother’s hand, I felt the only guilt for what I had done that morning with Brad. I knew that my father wouldn’t have approved.

  The little guilt that I felt ran away when Tyler never showed. He was so deep into his own pity party that he simply asked me to let him know if everything was okay. He wasn’t there for me, holding me, like Sabrina was.

  “Karrie,” Sabrina said as we sat in one another’s arms.

  “Yea?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  I didn’t accept her apology because sorry wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough to continue to hurt me with harsh words, ruin her life with sporadic behavior, and just push it all under the rug with apologies.

  Sabrina knew that. My bitter silence told her that.

  With a big heavy sigh, she rocked my world, more than it ever had been that day. “My father is a monster because when I needed him the most, he wasn’t there for me. I was twelve. His brother lived with us, Uncle Tim. One night, I woke up with Uncle Tim on top of me; touching me. I told my parents the next morning, and my father called me a liar. Because I lied about things like doing homework and talking to boys, he actually thought I would lie about something like that. And my mother, she was too spineless to take up for me. And they let him stay. For three more months, he lived with us and in my bedroom at night until my father caught him creeping out of there at three in the morning. They put him out, but my father was so worried about our family’s reputation that he never called the cops. That is why I am spoiled. My father is making up for subjecting me to his brother. My mother is making up for not standing up for me. And I just get high to forget it all.”

  Nineteen

  Karrie

  I ran to Brad. I didn’t feel that if I had run to anyone else, it would take the pain away.

  Thankfully, my mother was so sedated that she wouldn’t miss me anyway. Sabrina drove me to my car b
ack at Pink Rhino. She tried to hold a casual conversation as if she hadn’t just told me the most horrible thing that I’d heard in my life. Worse than hearing that my mother had just had a stroke. She was my best friend and for years she’d been acting like this strong, confident girl that I envied. I envied her, and it was all a lie. It was a facade to cover up the fact that she was as hurt and wounded as I was; even more, because I was just insecure, when she was broken. It hurt me that she never felt that she could tell me this, so I ran.

  I ran … straight to Trump Towers.

  Sabrina’s sadness tore at my heart as we stared at one another, through the elephant in the car as I reached for the door handle. The lights of Pink Rhino flashed on her face. I wanted so badly to have been in that club, swinging from a pole, and have had totally avoided everything that happened that night, everything that I’d heard.

  “It happened to you, not me,” she finally said.

  “Something happened to you is something happening to me,” I said, fighting crocodile tears. “Just like something happening to my mother is something happening to me.”

  She reached to hug me, and I stopped her. She looked broken hearted.

  “I don’t want a hug. I can’t take it. I just want to go.” I climbed out of her car, saying over my shoulder, “I’ll call you later. I promise.”

  Brad was waiting for me with open arms. I ran into the building. I frantically pushed the buttons in the elevator. I repeatedly knocked on 46A. I fell into his chest and wailed. He kept his arms snuggled around me as he kicked the door closed with his bare foot. His chest was also bare. His legs were covered with a pair of worn jogging pants. I would have ogled at the sight of him, had my sight not been blinded by so many tears.

  He maneuvered our way over to the couch. Once seated, he kissed the top of my head, literally sat me in his lap, and held me, with my head cemented to his shoulder. Though I was in his lap, I moved in closer. I climbed in and snuggled in closer as if I was hiding from the world.

  “That’s it, darling.”

  Damn. Even in my grief, that made my pussy wet. That was the perks of being with Brad. He was a protector. Even when he was just an inbox, I felt protected. He protected me from anything that I felt was evil. Whether a real or perceived threat, danger or bad people, he was there protecting me against it. Sometimes a girl just needs to curl up in her man’s arms and feel like she’s protected from the world’s bullshit. With Brad, I had that. Most men protected their women from the world’s pain while inflicting her heart with their own. Not Brad, though. I was able to relax into him knowing that he was protecting me not only from the evils and dangers of this world, but also from any further heartbreak.

  I let it all out; the fear, the hurt, the exhaustion and the relief. Yes, relief. Relief that I finally had someone like him to hold me so tight that I felt more protected than I ever had in my life. Relief that my heart had been so strained for so many years, missing something, yearning something, and finally it was relieved because it found what it was missing, what it needed.

  Twenty

  Brad

  She was gasping, as if she couldn’t breathe, so I held her tighter and rocked her slowly.

  It was what she needed, and it was my job to give her exactly what she needed.

  “I can’t breathe,” I heard her cry, so I immediately moved my shoulder to give her air, but she came back to it. “No, I literally can’t breathe. This is too much.”

  My heart went out to my darling. I wanted to protect her from everything. That was natural for a Dom like me.

  I’m a Daddy Dom, though I was scared to tell Karrie that much. At the word Dom, vanilla people always thought of whips, chains, and paddles; something that I am not at all into. Yet, over time, as she learned more about me, my character, and lifestyle, she would understand the difference in the stigma that she knew as a Dom and who I actually am, a Daddy Dom.

  Compared to a Dom in the BDSM world, Daddy Doms are the gentlest type of Dom. Versus spanking, whips, and chains, in a dominance and submission relationship, Daddy Doms are more concerned with their Submissive’s goals and needs; not spanking or torturing her. They are a fountain of information for their Submissive and give information and training on things such as career advice, money, and life itself. They cherish their Submissive and are happy to watch her grow into a better woman. They are always in control of themselves so that they are then able to take control in the relationship. They are dominant, stern, and demanding, but will always be there for their Submissive.

  Because of my dominance and strength, I knew that I would be able to will Karrie into this lifestyle, no matter her hesitance. It was already happening. However, she would have never been able to be willed had she not naturally been a submissive. Naturally, she had been submissive to every man in her life; her father and that asshole, Tyler. She gives Tyler everything so willingly because naturally she was submissive to whatever his heart desired. Yet, he takes advantage of that and hurts her. Being a Daddy Dom, I would treasure her submission and treat her like a princess because her submission was a gift to him. I planned to praise and honor her. In turn, she will love me for praising and honoring her.

  Initially, the word “Daddy” freaks women out, but they eventually learn that there is a big difference between a father and a “Daddy” used as a title in a dominant/submissive relationship. When I first tell women the term, they cringe. It makes them think of their own father. But I quickly teach them that this type of man and relationship has nothing to do with pedophilia or incest. The feeling they get being with me, under me, is nothing like the feeling when speaking of their biological father. Yet, as a Daddy Dom, I take that parental role as the dominant man in their lives; protecting, guiding and nurturing them. My demands were never ridiculous or for my own pleasure. They were always to help some aspect of Submissive to grow.

  They can be submissive to me with no restraint because I give them confidence and stability. I hold them and tell them that they are my good girl. When they make a mistake, I teach them to do better. They have an innocence and simplicity about them when they are with me that did not exist when I wasn’t around. I was comforting, when they were accustomed to being the comforter. I took all responsibility that they couldn’t handle and made them know that it is my job to handle it. I made them feel that the safest place is with me; in my arms. I was always ready to hear her wants and needs. They had never felt so secure in my life until they were with me.

  Mentally, they could relax with me because they know that I was there for them and would never intentionally hurt them, because I wanted to do nothing but shield, mold, and love them.

  I did just that for Karrie. I gathered her into my arms and stood up. She wrapped her arms around my neck and allowed me to carry her wherever I was going, trusting me.

  I took her to the bedroom. I laid her down on the bed softly. She covered her eyes and continued to cry. I put my arms on each side of her, smiling down on my darling. Slowly removing her hands, I kissed her tears.

  She tried to fight my intimacy. She wanted to cry and be miserable, but I wouldn’t let her. She was better than that, than misery, than depression.

  “Let me make you feel better, darling.”

  This was not her. This was what she had accepted in life, but it was not her. She needed to feel as loved and special as she was. And when you want to make a woman feel especially loved and special, you need to do what a lion does when it hears a wounded animal and go in for the kill.

  I slightly grabbed her chin and made her face the ceiling. I reached between her legs and baby smacked the wetness that I knew was on the other side of her yoga pants. I watched her flinch. I could see the lust forming in her mind. I am positive that she saw it forming in mine.

  I began to lay such deep kisses on her neck that it tickled her like crazy.

  She squirmed

  “Be still,” I growled.

  She remained silent but continued to squirm. I could feel her
creaming as I continuously smacked my hand against her clitoris.

  “I asked you to be still, darling.”

  She could hear me, but she couldn’t process what I was saying. I knew that. My aggression had her in such a lustful daze that she couldn’t comprehend.

  I took full advantage of the effect of my aggression on her. I was able to disrobe her quickly. The more I smacked her wetness, the more and more her love came down, and she was nearing an orgasm.

  “No,” I said shaking my head with the lustful smile. “You can’t cum yet.”

  And before she could plead or argue with me, I was guiding her towards my chest by the back of my neck, forcing her to lay kisses on it while I removed my pants.

  I threw her back onto the bed with mild aggression, and her juices overflowed. She couldn’t even get her senses straight before my cock was in her, drilling into her pussy unmercifully with long, hard strokes that pierced her stomach.

  I howled like an animal. So did she. As long as the tears on her face were now tears of lust, not worry, I was content.

  I felt her cumming. “Didn’t I tell you that you could not cum yet?”

  Purposely, she ignored me. She wanted more of my punishment. It hurt her so good, and she knew that the orgasm would be better that way.

  She was learning, and that made me rock hard with excitement.

  Sensing her orgasm approaching, I pulled my cock out of her. She squirmed around in anxiousness.

  I flipped her over before she could catch her breath. On all fours, I continuously spanked her ass so hard that I could hear the contact echoing outside on the lake.

  She moaned as her body nearly exploded. She sang out as she felt my tongue kissing her clit lovingly.

  “You better not cum,” I threatened with a mouth of pussy, and it drove her crazy.