Prototype

by Gretchen de La O

  His hands slid up between my body and the bed. My breath hitched as he pressed his lips to my calf, dragging the tip of his tongue up the back of my leg before cresting the top of my inner thigh. With the swipe of his tongue, he made my body hungry. His hand clutched my soft bottom, his other circling my sensitive flesh, as he piqued my curiosity. What if he spanks me? I’ve never been spanked before. The thought excited me and yet pulled at my nerves. Fear surged in my gut, mingling with the restlessness of my newly found desires.

  “Tell me that you trust me.”

  “With my heart?” I asked breathlessly.

  “With your life,” he answered as his hand collided with the edge of my skin. I felt the fear of punishment and euphoria swirl between my legs.

  “I don’t know,” I whimpered as I pulled my knees under my body.

  His fingers circled my hot stinging flesh, relieving the burn.

  “That’s not the answer I expected.”

  His touch disappeared from my backside before slamming against my rear again.

  I’ve never let a man touch me like this before. I never gave so much control over to one person. The pleasure of his demands frightened the shit out of me and confused me. I craved to have him devour my body and yet the rational side of me knew this would only lead to trouble. I pushed my head into the bed letting the anticipation fill me to almost combustion.

  “Come on, Lauren … Say you trust me,” he said as his fingertips stroked at my needy parts before pushing inside of me.

  My muscles clutched; my hips swayed.

  “I trust you,” I moaned. “God, I trust you.”

  “Well, maybe you shouldn’t,” he growled.

  In a single motion, smooth as the rush of water over rocks, he turned and slid his face under my pelvis. His nimble fingers spread me as he pushed up between my legs. I thrust my hips down hard against his pulsating tongue lapping at my wetness. The rhythm of my pleasure and the deep moan he released against my flesh goaded me into wanting to please him at the same time. I wanted to make him feel the surge of pleasure he was giving me. I swung my leg around bringing my body opposite of his as I unbuttoned his pants. He continued to taste the sweet space between my legs while I yanked his zipper down. His erection was strong and significant as I stroked its length; dragging my tongue from the base all the way to his tip. His voracious appetite deliberate and his deep bellowing moans he clustered against me drove me insane with pleasure. His fingers trapped my firm nipples, pulling and caressing them, causing me to gasp. He pulled away; disappointment flooded my body as the cool air replaced his mouth.

  “Get on your knees,” he demanded. His eyes wicked with sexual desire, his crave fed my body. My stomach clenched as apprehension and pleasure twisted and vibrated throughout my body.

  “What do you want me to do?”

  He didn’t answer. Instead he yanked me across the bed. My knees on the edge of the mattress, my feet dangling, he pushed my head down against the comforter, his mouth near my face, his breath rolling across the bend of neck.

  “I want to watch you trust me,” he whispered at the same he dragged his fingers down my spine.

  I felt him push against me, my body ravenous for him. I pressed back as his willingness thrust deep and unyielding inside me. He rolled his hips. I gasped before he pulled back and thrust again. The slap of our skin, his low heady huffs as he drove himself deeper inside me, ecstasy wasn’t a good enough word for what I was feeling. His hands clung to my waist as he drove himself into me even faster, harder and rougher. Our sex was different this time, less forgiving and more demanding. Nothing mirrored his delicate discovery of my body the first time we were together. Escalating to quicken my body’s reaction, my insides clutched and quivered at the friction he created. I gasped and howled as he plunged into me unrelentingly.

  Desperation gripped my motivation as every breath I fought to catch and every nerve in my body rushed my skin. If someone asked me where I was, I couldn’t tell them, I couldn’t give them the reasons I let Alejandro take me so tirelessly. It was exponential discovery, freedom in its purest of form. I was noisy, uncontrolled and animalistic as he unhinged the loneliness that kept me prisoner for years. My legs and arms shook uncontrollably for a long couple of seconds as my core ignited in the most intense orgasm I’d ever had.

  “Eres perfecta, mi amor!” Alejandro hollered as he threw his head back and his body convulsed under me just seconds after I came. His arms still tightly wrapped around my shoulders as he continued to pump inside of me. All the amassed insecurities and sexual inexperience that resided in my body were washed away when I felt him explode. I was satisfied.

  We lay there, our bodies limply tangled. His arms bound me tight against his moist skin, and my head locked under his chin as he whispered warm words he strung together as he caught his breath. In seconds I realized the string of breathless words were in Spanish.

  “Gracias a Dios, que confia en mi.”

  I let him pull me down onto his chest as I fell fast asleep, still wrapped in his arms.

  My eyes sprung open so quickly that my mind didn’t have time to register where I was. Pillows piled and sheets twisted in front of me. I slowly stretched my hand toward the space expecting to feel his warm skin. I visualized my morning yearning fulfilled. My lips stretched stern across my teeth into a smirk while my leg searched below. My expectations were thwarted by the cold empty sheet my hand explored. My eyes confirmed what my hand and leg reported to me. He was gone and desolation swirled stronger than ever before.

  What’s happening to me? My emotions were so raw, much more than ever before. My body was becoming stronger, my senses heightened and I was experiencing feelings I didn’t think I was capable of. Ever since Roger installed that thing in my head my body hadn’t been my own. I sat up, my thoughts reeling because of the prototype. I needed to get it out of my head. I didn’t want to help Marshall or be invaded by Roger. I didn’t want any of it anymore. I wanted my thoughts back and my mind left alone. With Alejandro gone, alone is exactly what I had. It just wasn’t what I wanted.

  My cell phone rang, kicking me from my self-induced nightmare as it vibrated on the night stand next to my bed.

  “Hello.” My voice was raspy and my throat dry. Goose bumps rose on my skin proof of how cold I was in the huge bed alone.

  “Hi.”

  “Alejandro?”

  “Forgive me, I didn’t want to wake you; you looked so peaceful.” My body warmed and the goose bumps stayed.

  “Wish you would’ve. Where are you?”

  “My office. I wanted to take care of some business and clear my schedule today. I’m sending a car for you.”

  “When?”

  “An hour.”

  I didn’t say anything. I could hear him shift the phone to his other ear.

  “Lauren, you there?”

  “I’m here. I was supposed to fly out last night.”

  “Glad you didn’t,” he teased. I could visualize the smile across his face.

  “Me, too.” I shivered; the images of last night packed my head.

  “You’re not leaving today, right?” His voice dropped to a whisper.

  “That depends on Roger.”

  There was no sound on the other end of the phone. I struck an uncomfortable chord and I was immediately sorry. A flurry of regret blasted my thoughts as I searched to find a way to bring him back in the conversation with me. Silent seconds passed awkwardly before he cleared his throat.

  “When is he contacting you?” His voice was low and hollow.

  “Looks like I’m contacting him,” I answered cautiously as I took a shallow breath and continued. “I was supposed to be in D.C. already. He’s probably wondering where I am.”

  He exhaled a low jealous sigh. “Better call him.”

  “Yeah, I better. I’ll call you back.” I didn’t hear him say goodbye before the line went dead.

  I worked hard not to take it personal. He was preoccupied with his concern
s for Sam and I knew that. Besides I was the only connection he had to Roger and we both knew that Roger was the one person that could save her now. I focused on the blinking cursor in the lower corner of my right eye that has become a constant in my vision and spoke out Roger’s full name. Once his file appeared in my eyes I scanned automatically and focused on the phone icon that lit green. The ringing in my ears only repeated once before Roger’s voice crammed my head. He answered out of breath.

  “He got to her! He got to her!” His voice was brimming with hysterics.

  “Roger. Talk to me. Who?” I was deliberate in my tone, hoping he’d settle down.

  “Marshall! He got to Sam. I couldn’t stop him!” His words were frenzied as he still struggled to catch his breath.

  “Where did he take her?”

  “I failed. I screwed up and now she’s gone!” I had never heard Roger so distraught.

  “What are you saying? Gotta give me something—anything,” I responded, as a surge of adrenaline began to rush through my body.

  “The fucking monster took her from right under my nose,” His voice was weighty with desperation as it trailed off.

  “You were there? You saw him take her?” I asked pointedly.

  “Yes, I couldn’t stop him. I couldn’t fucking stop him.”

  My mind spun, racing with different scenarios and Samantha. I needed to get to D.C.; I should’ve been there hours ago. Guilt pulsed through my body knowing that I was with Alejandro when I should have been on a plane back to D.C. I wish I could have seen what happened. Instantly, the ability to record from the prototype flashed across my mind.

  “Roger … your recorder, connect me to it.”

  “I don’t think—”

  “Roger, connect me now.”

  “Lauren, it’s gnarly. Are you sure?” His voice echoed the unsettledness in his heart.

  “Yes, I am,” I pressed.

  We were losing valuable time and if I was going to help, I needed to know what I was up against. I scanned his file, found the link icon and focused on it until the little white bubble bounced between the two computer images.

  “I’m connected. Where’s the file?” I held my palms tight against the table; trying to steady myself.

  “It’s in my personal video files under Sam. It should be the last one.” His voice grew louder as it pitched up an octave.

  I scrolled down through the stack of dates and titles until I saw it, the last entry. Focusing on the file, it opened and instantly I was thrown into Roger’s video … as him.

  The Washington D.C. breeze had tousled my short hair causing it to thrash and tickle my ears as I had brushed away sporadic rain drops that showered my face and the back of my neck. Roger’s glasses had filled with raindrops and steam from the heat of his cheeks. I rubbed away the rain drops that ran down his cheeks. It was strange; I shivered as the cold air caressed my neck Roger’s hands felt so much softer than mine and much bigger. I was standing in front of an enormous red brick building. When Roger’s vision pushed and instantly I was heading into the building.

  Soft classical music played in the lobby as I walked toward a long wooden counter. A gorgeous young woman reading a poly-sci textbook, her curly black hair tumbled back from around her dark brown complexion as she looked up at me. Her eyes filled with so much life, something I must have had when I was her age.

  I felt Roger’s entire body react to her beauty, reminding me where I was. His thoughts and urges swirled from my mind to between my legs.

  “Good morning, how may I help you?” she asked with a sweet twang in her words.

  His pushed his hands against the cold smooth counter, rubbing them back and forth against the sharp edge. “Why, yes you can. I’m here to see Samantha Wilkins.” I could feel his nerves. His eyes registered the voluptuous curves of her lips and I noticed a surge of energy rushed between his legs.

  “May I tell her who’s here?” She picked up the phone receiver and waited for me to speak.

  “Actually, what I would really like to do is surprise her. She hasn’t seen me in a couple of months; it’s like I’ve been dead to her.” I felt his cute charming smile as he never broke eye contact.

  “We’re really supposed to call first.”

  “The last time I saw her, I was being shipped off to Afghanistan. She really doesn’t know if I am alive or dead. I just thought—” Roger broke off, rolling his shoulders forward.

  “I could get in trouble for this … but you seem nice enough. And who am I to keep you from surprising your friend?”

  “Thank you. I can’t wait to see the look on her face when she sees me. What number was she again?” I felt his head tilt as he pulled his hand back to the edge of the counter.

  “Three-thirteen—third floor. Take the elevator behind me and when you get off turn right.” She stood up, turned around and pointed as she gave directions.

  He took a long glance at her backside before he inhaled a deep breath and shook his head. I never thought I would ever see the day when I was in a guy’s head as he flirted to get what he wanted.

  He pressed the elevator button so hard I could feel my fingertip begin to go numb. His shoulders dropped and I could feel his lungs burn with cold air as he inhaled a massive breath once the elevator doors closed. In no time, the doors slid open to the third floor and he hurried to Sam’s apartment. The door was ajar and looked like someone busted it open. My stomach dropped, twisting into knots. Roger slowly pushed the door open and looked into Sam’s apartment. “Sit down and shut the hell up.” The words were gruff.

  “Who sent you? What do you want from me?” Sam asked before I heard shuffling followed by a cry.

  “Told you to shut the fuck up,” he repeated as he slapped her.

  Samantha let out a howl before a loud thump filled the room.

  “Get up!” He sounded wicked and evil. Suddenly, I heard scuffling and footsteps before Samantha whimpered at being dragged across the floor.

  “Why?” Samantha gasped.

  “Bitch, I told you to shut the fuck up!” The raspy voice interrupted before I heard a hollow thud and Samantha cried.

  Roger’s arms tightened, clutching his hands into fists, as he listened to Samantha being beat. I needed to help her, but I was watching a recording and there was no way of stopping it. I was a prisoner to what had already been done.

  Roger peered around and saw Sam with her assailant. A sick familiarity rolled through Roger’s body as he recognized the man. Visions of his encounter snapped into my mind. This was the same scumbag sent to kill Roger just a couple of days ago. Roger’s eyes seated with anger and his heart thundered with adrenaline.

  Sam was hunched in a wooden kitchen chair; blood was dribbling from her nose and seeping from the cuts on her cheeks. Huge dark purple bruises stained her face, arms and upper chest and her eyes were swollen almost shut. Her once white shirt was checkered with her blood; she looked almost close to death.

  I saw the man ball his fist, pull his arm back and clock her full force upside the head. Her body flew off the wooden chair, through the air and land on the other side of the hall. I heard the sickening thud as she landed, and an echoing crack as her skull hit the floor. I heard her body slide across the floor before it came to an abrupt stop. Her blood-curdling scream filled the room and my mind.

  I was a prisoner in Roger’s head. Why wasn’t he doing anything to stop this? The assailant stepped over her, deliberately kicking her in the back and stomach as he towered over her. He bent down and grabbed at the collar of Sam’s shirt he leaned in close, her arms dangling by her sides her body bouncing with every cry.

  “I told Marshall I’d take care of you … just like I took care of the other pieces of shit.” He let go and let her body drop to the hardwood floor. Suddenly, he determinedly started to scour the room for something. His demeanor changed when he stammered over to Sam.

  The man had snatched Sam’s chin and pulled her face over to see what he had. The gurgle deep in her t
hroat as she whimpered for help had been agonizing as I watched him pull out a long thin metal skewer and shook it in front of her. Torturing her as he brought it to her right ear, Marshall had hired him to finish the job Terence never did.

  I felt Roger’s body lunge forward as he caught Sam’s assailant around the neck and yanked him down to the floor. Searing pain tore through my left side as Roger’s hands ripped at the man’s face. Hate had surged from the depths of my soul. Roger cocked his arm back and punched the man so hard that I heard the bones in his face and Roger’s hand shatter. Every feeling Roger was experiencing, thundered through my body.

  The assailant’s wicked right hook had blasted powerfully across the side of Roger’s skull. His head had swung across his body and suddenly the ceiling of the room had spun above me and my eyes had rolled up in the back of my head. Roger’s body had hit a piece of furniture and slide to a stop as I had heard objects falling around me … everything had gone black, Roger had passed out.

  I opened my eyes. I was back in the hotel room disconnected from Roger. Immediately, I hustled to the nearest mirror and checked to see if there was any evidence of what that fucking monster did to Roger reflected on my body. It was so real, so evil. I pulled my hair back behind my ears examining my face, nothing. I pulled my shirt up to see if the skewer that pierced Roger caused any damage, again-nothing. I was okay but I knew that Roger and Sam weren’t.

  I struggled to contact Roger. Too much time collected as I waited for Roger to answer.

  “Roger!”

  “Lauren, did you see it?” He sounded exhausted.

  “Oh my God, Roger, are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  “I’m on the next flight out.” I paced the room as I spoke to him feeling immense guilt for not being there.