Strapped

by Nina G. Jones

  “Do you like it when I fuck you hard Shyla?” I nod, his hand is still over my mouth. He thrusts into me again and again, forming a rhythm, but maintaining force. He has me angled at a position that makes every thrust feel so deep. After each one, I wonder if I can handle another, while at the same time, eagerly anticipating the next penetration. He squeezes one of my cheeks so hard, it is borderline painful. “My god Shy, you feel so incredible.” His voice sounds drugged. I moan so hard that his hand has barely any effect, he moves it off of my mouth and grabs a fist full of my hair and pulls my head back. “Shhh...” He says into my ear. He is pounding, I am hollering and I feel my insides tightening, tensing. My cries get louder, so loud, I wonder if someone might think he is killing me in here. I open my eyes and see his beautiful reflection in the mirror, his abs define with each thrust, his hooded eyes completely focusing on me. He bites his bottom lip and I can no longer take it. I come so hard and loud, that Taylor is forced to cover my mouth again, very firmly, almost suffocating me, which only serves to make my orgasm more intense.

  “Oh god Shy!” I hear him say as he releases himself inside of me. He rests his torso onto my back and we pant in unison. What just happened? I have always been such a good girl. That felt so dirty and yet, so incredibly satisfying on another level. Never have I surrendered myself so entirely to another person. I fight back tears. This man makes me cry more than anyone else in the world, and while that should be an ominous sign, I think it is because he makes me feel more deeply and strongly than anyone has before. I am making up for a lifetime of indifference. He has turned my world upside down and I love every moment of it. Yet, there is still the ever present feeling of filth, of immorality. I don’t recognize myself and it scares me.

  “Shy? Shy are you okay?” I don’t want him to think he has hurt or scared me. He stands me up and turns me around, placing his hands on my shoulder.

  “Yes. I am fine, really.” I stop speaking and cover my face. He pulls my hand away from my face.

  “Tell me.” It is a command, but I can hear the tenderness in his voice.

  “I am just overwhelmed.” His face softens and his eyes warm.

  “I don’t like when you cry,” he says. Then he brushes my hair back and walks to his locker.

  We dress quickly as other people will soon be coming to use the track. I feel apprehensive about exiting the room and facing anyone out there, but he assures me that the chances of anyone being in the vicinity are very slim. Of course, when we step out, someone in an employee shirt is walking through the hall and he stops when he sees Taylor. I look down, doing my best to avoid eye contact.

  “Jeremy.” Taylor nods and tries to quickly walk by, but Jeremy can’t help but say something.

  “Mr. Holden, ma’am, my apologies about knocking on the door, I had just gotten in and I didn’t know you were here.” The young man’s voice is jittery, obviously Taylor is an important customer. However, this guy needs a lesson in discretion.

  “No worries. Have a good one.”

  “How...How was your track time today?” Jeremy asks awkwardly. Oh my god, shut the fuck up. I just know he heard us. This guy knows what I sound like in the heat of the moment. This guy knows I fuck in public restrooms.

  “It was great. Gotta run.” Finally, Jeremy gets the point.

  Taylor grabs the Spider keys from Mr. Tompkins in his office and we set off to return to his place.

  Taylor brushes some hair out of my face. “You okay, Shy?”

  “Yes, just a little embarrassed.”

  “Trust me, he was more embarrassed than you were.”

  “Doubt it.”

  “Well, I have some work to do unfortunately, but you are welcome to come back to the house and hang out.”

  “I should let you focus.” There is no doubt that I want to spend every waking moment with him, but I know that is the adult thing to say.

  “So Rick is moving tomorrow?” There he goes bringing up Rick again.

  “Yes. Why do you ask?”

  “Well, I would love it if you slept over tonight. I can call you when I am done working. That way we can hang out tomorrow and Rick will have the space he needs to move. That is, if you want to.” Do I hear a shred of insecurity in his voice? At least he knows the details of my personal life, I know nothing about his past girlfriends. I agree to come by later in the evening once he is done with work. Since my car is at his house, he tells me he will have Harrison come and get me.

  “Shyla, I had a wonderful time today.”

  “So did I.” He kisses me on the forehead and I slide out of the car. As I float to the entrance of the apartment building, a nuclear bomb could drop on my ass and I wouldn’t care. That is, until I see Rick’s reflection in the glass door of the building. I turn very hesitantly and see his unamused face.

  “Oh hi!” I am hoping he missed my goodbye with Taylor. He didn’t.

  “Nice car he has there. You didn’t wait very long, did you?” I don’t want to fight. I understand his hurt and anger, even though I do have every right to see Taylor at this point.

  “I’m sorry, you said you were coming tomorrow. I didn’t mean for you to see anything.”

  “I thought I could get a head start today. I had assumed you would at least have waited for me to move out before bringing Mr. Hotshot around.” I am feeling the discussion escalate and I don’t care to let it go any further. Rick has been more than kind about the situation and this is becoming the perfect opportunity for him to let out his pent up frustration.

  “Rick. I am so sorry. He was just giving me a ride. I would have never brought him around if I knew you were going to be here. Take all the time you need. Please just let me know when you are finished.”

  He lets himself into the building without responding to my apology.

  I walk to the very coffee shop where I met Taylor. The all too familiar waves of guilt and elation crash over me. I wish things between Rick and I did not end like this, but things are what they are. I never meant to hurt him, but in the end, there is no way to end a relationship without hurt feelings.

  Chapter Sixteen

  My time in the coffee shop is perfect for calling my mother. It has been weeks since I last spoke to her. Due to my uncertainty about the new job and my relationship with Rick, I wanted to avoid her prying questions about my life. Just the thought of telling her about my breakup with Rick is exhausting me. I strategize about how much I need to tell her, the bare minimum I can get away with. Since the job is ancient history, I decide to skip past that as if it never happened. Telling her about Rick will be so hard. We have been together for so long, and I know she was convinced Rick and I would marry. She cares so much about my relationships because she doesn’t want me to be alone like when my dad left her. While I understand her reasons for this, I cannot live my life just to comfort her.

  Before I call, I text Taylor to share my awkward and painful encounter with Rick. Normally, this would be something I could share with Kristin, but she doesn’t know about Taylor and me. Which reminds me, I need to talk to Taylor about this whole secret affair thing. I have a life filled with other people, and I cannot hide our relationship forever.

  Shyla:

  I am at the coffee shop. When you dropped me off, Rick was outside and saw the whole thing. Awk.

  Mr.Holden:

  Do you mean THE coffee shop? I should buy that place and turn it into a monument for you. Sorry to hear about Rick. Are you ok? You didn’t argue or anything?

  Shyla:

  No. I’m fine. He made a snide remark and rightfully so. I feel like an asshole, but I told him he could start moving today and I came here to give him space. Came here because it reminds me of you.

  Mr.Holden:

  You know what else would remind you of me? Me and my house. Just come over, no need to be sitting alone in a coffee shop. I know you don’t have any work to do ;)

  Shyla:

  What a callous remark Mr. Holden! I’ll have you know that I w
orked at a top business before being seduced by its impossibly sexy and enigmatic CEO. It will greatly pad my resume!

  Mr.Holden:

  Sexy? Enigmatic? Tell me more. From what I have heard, the verdict on who seduced whom is still up in the air.

  Shyla:

  Okay, I have distracted you enough. Besides, unlike my resume, your ego does not need any padding.

  Mr.Holden:

  Zing! I’ll be done in a couple of hours. Feel free to call Harrison directly if you want to be picked up earlier and surprise me. I won’t be mad about it ;)

  Shyla:

  I am reading some enthralling literature and I have to call my mom. If you know anything about phone conversations with her, you’ll know I will need more than a couple of hours.

  I catch myself smirking like a goofball. It’s the times of levity like this that makes the weight of his looming secret heavier. Do I really want to know the truth? Do I want to know what is beneath the surface?

  ***

  “Hi mom.”

  “Hi Shyla doll! It’s been too long!”

  “Sorry, things have been crazy lately.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  “I’m fine mom, and everything is okay, but Rick and I broke up.”

  “What? What happened?”

  “I don’t really want to talk about it, but it is mutual. We are both fine and happy to move on.”

  “I don’t understand, he was such a nice guy.”

  “He’s not dead mom!” I chide. “He’s great, we just weren’t working out. Anyway, I’m okay, everything is fine and I don’t want you to worry.”

  “Did he cheat on you?”

  “No! You know he’s not like that. Honestly, nothing happened, we just grew apart. We talked and both agreed it was the right thing to do. How are you doing mom?”

  “Oh, everything is okay here. You’ll let me know if you’re not okay right?”

  “Of course mom. I don’t want you to worry is all. I really am okay.”

  I can’t bring myself to tell my mother what really happened. She would be so ashamed of me and to be honest, it hurts to talk about what I did to Rick. She goes on to fill me in on gossip about friends and family members I barely know. I know she misses me, and I really enjoy seeing her when I visit, but phone conversations don’t do anything for me. I would much rather visit her a few times a year than have weekly meaningless phone conversations. They are a chore I endure to make her feel as though I am still at home while I am hundreds of miles away. When she comes up for air, I let her know that I have to finish a project as she still thinks I am freelancing. Once I tell her I love her and hang up, I think of Kristin. She hasn’t heard from me since her last check in and has left a couple of voicemails. This requires a text to Taylor first. Quickly, I change his name in my phone, because I think we are officially past me addressing him as Mr. Holden.

  Shyla:

  Hey it’s your local neighborhood CEO seducer again. Question: I know I am not supposed to tell anyone anything according to the nda, but I think you would agree things have changed. Kristin is starting to ask questions and she’s my best friend. Can we make an exception here?

  Minutes pass with no reply. This is unlike him as he always has his phone on him. About ten minutes later, the familiar buzz of my phone goes off.

  Taylor:

  Might it have occurred to you that I had you sign the NDA for this particular eventuality? I am okay with you telling Kristin about us, but spare her (and everyone) the details of our locker room trysts. I know how you ladies love to share...

  Shyla:

  Mr. Holden! I am not the type to kiss and tell. She will have to find out eventually that we are seeing each other so there is no point in trying to hide it.

  Taylor:

  Agreed. Just keep the details mum. Seriously.

  While this is some sort of victory, there is not much I can tell Kristin. I decide to give her a call anyway.

  “Shy! You’re alive!”

  “Yes, yes I am.”

  “How are you? I’ve been worried sick. I stopped by your place and no one was home. Do you need me to come over?”

  “No. I am not at home. There is so much I need to tell you, but I’ll keep it short since I have to run, I just wanted to let you know that I am okay and I am out of my funk and all that.”

  “What? Where are you? Where are you going?”

  “At a coffee shop just hanging out. I am going to Taylor’s later.”

  “Taylor? Who is Taylor?”

  “Taylor Holden.” There is a pause on the other line as I hear Kristin trying to make sense of what I am telling her.

  “Shy...la...you...didn’t!” While she wants to feign disappointment, I can hear her smiling on the other end. “You need to give me the details. What happened? Are you two...?”

  “Yes. Kristin, I am...” I pause. Should I tell her how crazy I am about him? I don’t want to sound naive. Kristin has a way of reading my mind, so she fills in the blank for me.

  “Is this why you were so messed up? You mean it wasn’t just about Rick? Is that why you quit? Shyla, you are killing me right now!”

  “Yes, Taylor and I finally expressed how we felt and he told me I should leave Rick, and that he and I should take a step back. I agreed with him, but I took some things personally that I shouldn’t have and I stormed out. That, plus Rick and I ending things was a lot.” Talking about my break up with Rick to Kristin makes me wish I had dealt with it differently. I know it looks like I have just left him in the dust, but I still feel for Rick in my heart even though my life is moving forward. Still, I think I need to give him some time to process everything before I reach out to him.

  “You’re telling me! You said you were going over to Taylor’s, so I take it that you two are not done?”

  “No...he came over on Friday night and told me he missed me.”

  “That is so romantic! You beyotch! He is rich, gorgeous and sensitive?” She doesn’t know his secrets; then again, neither do I. “How is Rick doing since you two broke up? Have you spoken to him?” I hear a text alert while I am on the phone.

  “Things were fine, but then I ran into him today...long story...he didn’t seem so fine anymore. Okay, I have to run, but we’ll meet up whenever you are available. I have no job right now as you know, so I am free as a bird.”

  “Yes! I will give you some times so we can meet up. Love ya!”

  “Love you too.” I check on the text.

  Taylor:

  So are you going to keep me waiting here?

  Shyla:

  I wasn’t joking about my mom. I’ll call Harrison.

  Taylor:

  He’s already there.

  I look out the window and see the Bentley. I grab my stuff and run out to meet Harrison, feeling bad that I have kept him waiting. When I arrive at the house Taylor is sitting in the great room, newspaper in hand, wearing a pair of charcoal lounge pants and a white tank.

  “I ordered some Italian for us. Come over here.” He pulls me onto the couch next to him.

  “You know, I don’t think I have ever selected my own meal with you.”

  “You don’t like that?”

  “Well, I guess I don’t mind for now since you have good taste. I just wonder why is all.”

  “I don’t know...I just want to take care of you. I guess I am used to dictating everything around me” I can hear his words are lost in a thought, so I let the topic go for now. I lay my head in his lap, taking in his appealing face. He twirls tendrils of my hair in his hands as we laugh and reminisce about the racetrack. He confesses to having about four or five coronaries while I was driving. This is heaven. We dine on wine and Italian food and we go to bed, my heart, tummy and soul feeling completely sated.

  ***

  I can’t breathe. The pressure around my neck is so intense that no matter how hard I try to gasp, no air travels to my lungs. I try to scream, but I hear only faint gargling sounds escape my throat. The room i
s so dark, I cannot make out the figure on top of me. I reach out to slap, scratch, punch, do anything to get just an ounce of air. My hands graze the top of his head, and I feel his hair; suddenly my senses become hyperaware. I’ve felt that silky texture before. His smell. I know that smell. I love that smell. I start to feel lightheaded and do the only thing I can out of desperation, I grab a handful of hair and pull with every bit of strength I have left. Taylor’s body gets pulled off center, and his grip around my neck slowly eases. I shoot up and desperately wheeze on all fours, coughing as I try to take in as much oxygen as possible. I crawl over to the lamp on the nightstand and pull on its chain.

  The dim light casts shadows on Taylor as I watch him on his knees, his eyes narrowing as he comes to. He looks at me as if he hadn’t seen me there before; slowly he looks at each of his hands, trying to make sense of the situation.

  “Taylor?” I choke out his name, my voice throaty and still out of breath.

  His eyes widen as he registers what just happened. He makes a sudden motion towards me and I jump back.