by S. R. Watson
“Please, just stop. Let me get you home safely and then you can go back to hating my guts. I’m not going to leave you here.” I know he isn’t lying. I’m learning that he is just as stubborn as I am. We’re two fools in the rain, refusing to give in to the other. Fuck it. Like he said, I can go back to hating him once we get back to the house. I let him help me up.
“Fine. Let’s go,” I huff. He takes off his helmet and puts it on my head before I can protest. He straddles the bike and then holds it steady while I get on. I’m scared shitless as he takes off. I wrap my arms around his waist tightly and lean with him around the each curve. I can feel the hardness of his abs underneath my fingers contract when he moves; the feel the vibration of the seat between my legs. I can admit that he handles the bike with expert precision, but that doesn’t mean I would want to be on one again anytime soon. When we arrive back to the house, I can’t wait to jump off. Xander is standing in the doorway with a scowl.
“I’m glad Diesel found you. I looked around the house for you. When it started to rain I was really worried. Why did you just take off?”
“I just wanted to go for a walk. It’s kind of my thing. I didn’t realize how far I’d gone, and I didn’t know it would rain all of a sudden.” I know he was worried. “Sorry for making you worry. It won’t happen again. I’ll tell you next time I decide to go for a walk.” Diesel walks past us and into the house.
“Brooke is upstairs waiting on you. She was worried too,” Xander continues. She runs up to me and hugs me as soon as she sees me.
“What the heck did you think happened to me? It’s just a little rain.”
“I don’t trust these country woods. You could’ve been picked up by an axe murder or something,” she giggles, finally at ease.
“Shut up, cray cray. Nobody wants me.”
“That’s not true,” she says shoving my arm.
“I’m going take a hot shower and get out of these wet clothes.”
“Diesel already headed that way. He may have beat you to it,” Sasha warns. I’m not talking to this skanky, guy stealing, whore.
“You can use the shower on the first floor,” Xander offers.
“Go ahead and I’ll bring you a change of clothes,” Brooke chimes in.
“Okay. Thanks.” I use the shower downstairs. It is nowhere near as nice as the one in the master bath. I almost feel guilty. I hear the door creak open and I can make out Brooke laying clothes on the counter for me.
“I’ll just take these wet clothes and put them in the wash,” she says, before heading back out of the door.
I step out of the shower and immediately notice those clothes are not my things. I run over to them and lift them up. They’re some sort of tights and tank with a sports bra. The panties are the only thing that belongs to me. I dry off quickly, wrap the towel around me, and crack the door open.
“Brooke!” I scream. “Brooke!” I keep yelling her name, until she brings her smartass down these stairs to see what I want. She knows why I’m calling her.
“Yesssss,” she drags out when she get to me.
“Don’t yes me. These are not my clothes. Where’s my stuff?” I don’t have much. She pushes past me and closes the bathroom door behind us.
“I put all your shit in the wash, so they’re wet. This is a goddamn intervention. I’m sorry, you’re just going to have to be pissed with me.” I begin to have a mini panic attack.
“Why would you do this? God. Now, I need to get something to wear from Xander.” I pace the floor so upset with her.
“Would you listen to yourself? It’s fucking clothes, Lourdes. It’s time to fucking stop hiding behind the damn clothes and make-up. Whatever happened in your past, let it go.” She attempts to lower her voice. “You are a strong, independent woman. You don’t need clothes to define who you are. I don’t know what happened and you don’t have to tell me, but I know the whole point is to make yourself visually unappealing.”
“You don’t know shit.” Tears spill from my eyes and I angrily wipe them away. How dare she? She yanks my arm and pulls me in front of the mirror.
“Newsflash, baby girl. You’re beautiful no matter what you wear. If you’re not interested in the attention of a man, then tell them to back the fuck off. Your feisty as fuck, so I know that you’re capable.” She breathes out a calming breath. “Those clothes you wear are for a fucking coward and you are not that. Embrace your curves and sexiness. If you don’t want a relationship with a man, you don’t have to. This fall starts a new chapter for us, and I will not let you hide anymore. You have me. Just please, give up this whole baggy look. We can go shopping and do girly shit together. And for the love of all things holy, please see that I’m doing this out of love.”
I walk over to the tub and take a seat on the edge. Of all the previous lectures I’ve gotten from my mom and other people about the way I dress, this is the first time that someone has gotten through. I have given power to my past. It’s held me captive and made me be afraid to be seen by the opposite sex. I didn’t want to be on their radar. I’m still afraid. It seems silly when you say it out loud, but the clothes and make-up makes me feel safe.
Truth is, Diesel ignored it all anyway, and I’m able to handle him—sort of. He is the ultimate alpha male, so If I can interact with him, maybe I don’t have to be afraid of men. This is a big step for me, but I’m going to try. It’s better to do a trial run here than on a campus with thousands. Plus, I have Xander and Brooke here. Jesus, the fact that I’m having this inner monologue with myself about clothes makes me certifiable. I look up at Brooke and she gives me the brightest smile imaginable. She knows that she has gotten through. She doesn’t say anything. She just hands me the clothes. I don’t even ask her to leave. She’s seen me naked before. The leggings slash tights, whatever the hell you call them, are knee length, but the tank doesn’t cover my ass. I know I’m curvy and right now, they’re all on display. I timidly walk out behind Brooke up to the second floor.
“Eat your heart out, Sasha,” she laughs.
“Ugh,” I groan.
“What? Her body doesn’t hold a candle to yours, babe. She had shit to say about you not changing into a swimsuit yesterday. She is going to wish you were still hidden. The guys are going to flip their shit, so be ready. This is your test.”
“Thanks.” Now I dread going upstairs even more. I’m not going to back out now, but I pray they don’t make too much of a deal over my transformation.
“What the…” The question dies on Gable’s lips. The guys all turn to see what got him so excited.
“Well, I’ll be God damned,” Diesel says. “There she is.” He walks over to me and shakes my hand before I can yank my hand away. “Hi, Lourdes. Nice to finally meet you.”
“Cut the shit, Diesel,” I chastise.
“I don’t see what the fuss is about. So she finally put on some normal people clothes and washed all that shit from her face,” Sasha whines. “Good for you, Lourdes.”
“Fuck you.” I give her the middle finger. I’m tired of her shit. Xander steps in to diffuse the tension.
“I like it, sis. You don’t need all that baggy shit. You’re a beautiful woman, not some Goth or tomboy.”
“Can everyone please stop focusing on me, please? Don’t make this weird for me. It’s something I’m trying to see if I like it. Everyone has their own personal style, so get off my case.”
“Anyone want to watch American Horror Story?” Diesel changes the subject. He looks over at me and winks. I still hate that he slept with the skank, but he is not mine so I can’t hold that against him. I do appreciate his effort to take the spotlight off of me. It works because the guys begin to grab plates of lasagna and beers to settle in for the show. Diesel, of course, grabs a plate of chicken breast and greens.
I laugh when Sasha tries to poach on his food and he tells her no. He says he only has enough for him, but I happen to know he has a fridge full of prepped food. Karma is a bitch. She gave up the ass, les
s than twenty-four hours ago, and now he won’t he share his food. I do believe vengeance is a dish best served cold.
A week passes and Brooke has since gone, taking her slutty cousin with her. Things have returned to normal, but Diesel has been a little hot and cold. Some days he can be sweet and considerate, and other days he can be a douche. He offers to watch Elementary recordings with me one day, and then another day he tells me, “meh, that show is for pussies.” One day he seems to enjoy my company, and the next day he his entertaining his groupies. I swear he gives me whiplash. The good thing is I haven’t reverted back to the black baggy clothes. I’ve been wearing mostly jeans and t-shirts still, but they fit. Brooke couldn’t wait to take me to get a few things before she left. It’s not as bad as I thought. I’m just glad I have someone like her in my life that cares enough to call me out on my shit. I miss her already, but she needed to go home to get packed because classes start in a week.
I’m on the sofa, killing time on the Nixon website looking at watches, when Lourdes comes downstairs at a snail’s pace. I zero in on her legs, that are on display in the cheer shorts she obviously slept in. She is sexy as fuck. I’ve been at constant half-mast ever since she started showing that banging ass body she had been hiding. She’s quite stacked, with a D rack and an ass you could probably set your beer on. The guys have kept their ogling in check, but I know they have thought about what it would be like to fuck her, just once. That shy, immature way she has toward men is at odds with the package she comes in. She’s not going to be ready for the attention that is getting ready to head her way, once she sets foot on the University of Alabama campus. She has no idea how gorgeous she is, and yet so down to earth. She is a rare find.
I do note that she is looking a little pale, as she gets closer. I watch as she goes to the refrigerator and puts her head against it. I get up to see what is wrong.
“What’s wrong, Lourdes?”
“I don’t know. I just don’t feel very well. I’m achy all over.” I feel her head with the back of my hand and she is burning up.
“You definitely have a fever. What did you come down here to get? I’ll get it for you.”
She uses her hand to push off the fridge, and I can’t help but notice her cleavage push up against her tank, as well. God, she is sick and here I am checking out her tits.
“I just needed to get something to drink,” she replies.
“You need to eat something, too. Go get back in bed and I’ll bring it to you.” She looks at me hesitantly, but then decides to listen. She heads back the way she came. I set about fixing something I think she will be able to tolerate while sick. I make her oatmeal with a little more water in it than I use for myself, so that it has a soupy consistency and easier to get down. I make toast, and pull out a breakfast tray, while I’m waiting for the two slices to pop up in the toaster. Lastly, I add a glass of orange juice to the tray before grabbing some cold and flu medicine we keep in the medicine cabinet downstairs. I don’t know what other symptoms she has, but this should take care of them all. I head back to the kitchen to put the remaining shit on the tray and take it to her.
Lourdes has already fallen asleep so I set the tray next to her on the nightstand and shake her gently.
“Wake up, sleepy head. You need to eat.” She rolls over and looks at me with those beautiful grays, and I feel a twinge of something in my stomach.
I help her sit up and place the breakfast tray in her lap. She gets all misty eyes and mouths, “Thank you.”
“No problem. Here. Take the medicine first,” I suggest as I take the two capsules out of the foil packaging for her. I hand them to her and she swallows them down with the orange juice. She take a tentative spoonful of the oatmeal and again, I encourage her to eat. I step into the hallway to make a phone call after I’m satisfied she is doing as she is told.
“Hello?” Sevyn picks up the phone after the first ring. “Diesel? Where are you, man?”
“Sorry, dude, but there has been a change in plans. I can’t meet up with you today to handle that for you. Can you reschedule?” Sevyn and I have an undisclosed arrangement. We help each other at predetermined times, but our individual involvement with said help is kept strictly between us. The guys he exists, but only by name. They don’t know where I spend my time when I leave here. He, on the other hand, knows about the life I have here, and I know of his. The partnership that we have erected requires that we both be knowledgeable of each other’s personal life, so that the arrangement we have in place is not sidelined by surprises. We have to know what timelines are available to us to be beneficial to each other. Nobody outside of the two us can know about our connection if our arrangement is to work.
“I guess I’m going to have to reschedule. I would appreciate a little notice next time though. This makes me look bad,” he sighs.
“I didn’t know ahead of time. Lourdes is sick and there’s nobody here to look after her. I don’t know where the hell the guys are. They were gone when I got up.” I’m prepared for teasing, since I don’t normally give two shits about anyone but myself, according to him. Instead he lets me off the hook.
“Fine. I’ll text you later with a new date and time.” We hang up and I see that Lourdes has fallen asleep again; this time with the tray still in her lap. She finished the orange juice at least. I walk over and collect everything to take back to the kitchen. I’m tempted to slide into the bed with her, but with how on edge I’ve been, I don’t know if in that close of proximity, I could maintain my control. I’m not a saint. She tempts me like no other. Sometimes I feel like that it is she, that is wearing me down and not the other way around. The fact that I fucked Sasha set us back tremendously. Although I backed out of giving Sasha the whole Dom experience, I still gave her multiple orgasms. That night with her was gratifying in the moment, but I hate that it has caused a riff between Lourdes and I. I know that she likes me, her jealousy proved that. Crazy thing is, I now feel that it goes beyond the sexual attraction I picked up on initially. Imagine that. Someone wants me for more that just my dick, yet we both continue to participate in this orchestrated dance where we ignore and avoid the inevitable.
Be that as it may, I still have needs right now. I need something tight I can slip in and out of, and then carry on about my business, but I can’t leave Lourdes here alone to fend for herself. I almost consider the possibility of rubbing one out, although that has been ages, when I hear the guys coming in downstairs. Thank fuck.
“Where in the hell have you guys been?” I ask. I noticed that Xander is not with them.
“Gable and I went to visit the deep throat twins.” Keyser grins. “Damn those women have skills.” Gable nods his head in agreement.
“Don’t get caught up, fellas. Knocking on the same door too many times, leads to someone catching feelings and shit.” I personally have a three fucks and you’re out rule. And that’s only if her shit is phenomenal. Basic bitches get the standard one-night stand. If any of them knew the restraint of my actual desires, they’d probably run. Then again, some would be foolish enough to stay and accept all the darkness I unleash, just to have a piece of me. I have to be mindful for the weak. I require submission not a pushover.
“They know the score,” Gable assures, interrupting my thoughts.
“Okay. If you say so.” They’ve been warned. Most women, even the whores, tend to have feelings that have a direct line to their pussies. Play with it too much and then the heart gets involved. No thank you. I quickly fill the guys in on Lourdes not feeling well and ask that they let her sleep, but check in on her. I’ll be back in about couple hours—right after I get a nut of my own. This makes encounter number three for Rita, so this will be our last fuck. I’ll make it a good one.
I’ve been on campus for about a month. I’m settling in fine. The adjustment is easy when nobody knows about your past reputation at your other school as the campus weirdo. I just chose to keep to myself and let them assume whatever they wanted from my appearance. Bro
oke was the social butterfly and the personality for us both. I know the parties I did get invited to were so that she would agree to go. I didn’t go to many, but I did attend a few. I fit in with the “normal” people, now that I dress like they do for the most part. This is a new start for me. I’m determined to be more open-minded. I’ve seen some slutty-look-at-me-I-need-attention women here, but that is to be expected anywhere you go. Some people are just not happy in their own skin. I can attest to this first hand. They’re just on the extreme ends of the spectrum. They under dress whereas I always used to overdress. Same difference. Funny how people are willing to accept my introvert nature now, since I look like them.
I finish packing my mini suitcase for a weekend stay at the lake house. Brooke is going away to Atlanta for the weekend with one of our roommates and a couple of other girls from our mutual class. I wasn’t up for a wild weekend of clubbing and drinking. I didn’t want her to back out of going, so I convinced her that I missed Xander and was looking forward to spending some time with him.
It wasn’t a complete lie. I’ve only been to see the guys twice since school started. However, a small part of me is excited to see Diesel, too. Our friendship was just starting to blossom when I left. He finally let down his guard a bit, to show the considerate and caring human being that he can be in addition to his whorish ways. It’s a part of who he is, but he is for all intents and purposes—single. I have my suspicions that things would be different, if he had a woman he cared about in his life. He was so attentive to me when I was sick. He showed me a carefree side that I’m sure no other woman has seen, in quite some time. I push the excitement that is starting to bubble up inside me aside and wheel my luggage toward the door. Xander instructed me to be waiting on the steps at 4:00 p.m. so he didn’t have to come up. He said he would call if he were running late. It’s a few minutes till four now so I hurry to get outside. I drop the handle to my suitcase when I see Diesel sitting on his motorcycle with his helmet tucked under his arm. When he sees me, he places the helmet on the seat and walks toward me with so much swag I have to keep my jaw from dropping.