by Lynda Chance
She shut her eyes tightly, closing them against him and everything they were doing as she uncurled her legs and rolled to her stomach.
"Don't do that," he hissed, as she felt his weight on the bed. "Don't act all hurt and pouty like this is my goddamned fault." She felt his arm wrap around underneath her belly, and once again, he lifted her onto her knees and spread her legs until he was between them. She heard a tube pop open, and she felt a sudden cold chill between her thighs as he spread the lubricant on her.
Within moments, he was pushing inside her from behind. Her muscles tensed up, but there was no pain. Only a slow, unrelenting pressure, but no pain. The lubricant was doing its job.
"Am I hurting you?"
Jessica knew all at once that if she answered him, he'd be able to tell she was crying again. She hadn't even realized it herself until she was faced with having to speak.
He pulled back out and took another smooth stroke. "Answer me."
She shook her head and managed, "No."
No more words were spoken between them. He continued to pound into her, taking even, forceful strokes that decimated her completely and held her pinned to the bed. From far, far away, down in the furthest recesses of her body, a tiny heat began to glow that under any other circumstances she might have allowed to break free. But not now, and not like this. He'd bought her body, but he couldn't buy her response. Not that he seemed to want it. And it was too late anyway.
He growled low in his throat as if he were a rabid animal attacking, and he pummeled her body as if he were out of control until he jerked against her, his fingers sinking into the flesh of her hips and holding himself locked tightly within her.
She let out a relieved breath, and took some more sustaining oxygen into her lungs. He pulled out immediately and vacated the bed, closeting himself in the bathroom, where she heard the shower begin to run.
She scrambled off the bed, put her clothes back on, and left the bedroom altogether. She didn't really know what he was going to expect when he finished his shower. He'd been here only twenty minutes so far, but she was hungry and glad of it. She needed to reconcile herself to the way her life was now, and she needed to be able to eat and hold down food.
As she heard the water turn off and him moving around the bedroom, she opened the containers he'd put on the table and began displaying the food, preparing to serve it.
He walked into the small living room, dining room combination and saw what she was doing. His eyes narrowed, and he looked up from the table and into her eyes. "Are you all right?"
Her muscles tensed but she managed to answer him. "Yes."
Giving her a short nod, he walked to the door. "Tomorrow."
And he was gone.
Jessica stared at the door and her appetite fled just as quickly as it had come. All at once, her eyes filled with tears and she fell into a dinette chair. It hit her what she'd just done, two nights in a row and anguish consumed her. She was going to get a grip. She really was. But for right now, she put her head in her hands and cried.
****
Connor stood outside the apartment door and leaned against the wall as he listened to the muffled sounds of Jessica's tears. A hard shaft of guilt pierced him, and the knowledge that she was crying because of him, because of what they were doing together unbalanced him.
For a moment, he wanted to go back in there and hold her. But he couldn't; they didn't have that sort of relationship. He didn't want that sort of relationship.
But he didn't care for the sound of her tears, not a damn bit. When he'd put the lubricant on her his only thought had been to ease her pain, to get his rocks off as quickly as he could, to make it easier on her.
And maybe it had helped with the physical side of things. But not the emotional, that was for sure. Hearing her tears, feeling the trembling of her body, only underlined her wholesome purity to him. She was sweetness personified, and if he wasn't careful, things were going to move in a direction that he hadn't planned for, and bite him in the ass. Getting too close to her would have repercussions he didn't want. He absolutely couldn't let her softness tantalize him. If that happened, the need he already felt for her would turn into a craving he couldn't control.
And he couldn't let that happen.
But he didn't care for her tears. No, not a damn bit.
Chapter Five
After seven more evenings of the exact same thing, Jessica knew Connor had established a pattern in their 'relationship.' He brought food every night, enough to feed two people, but he never ate with her. He never stayed for longer than half an hour, and he put her in the same position, face down, every time.
He never kissed her, or touched her breasts; he never requested she be completely nude. He never again tried to arouse her as he had that first night. He continued to use the lubricant on her.
It was a clinical fucking exactly as he'd spelled it out to her in the beginning. She was the vessel he had described, the female body he used to relieve his sexual needs.
Without consciously realizing it, she began to think of her lower torso and limbs as belonging to him, but everything above her waist as still being hers and safe from his touch.
And she supposed, if Connor wasn't the way he was, it could have been much, much worse. Although not gentle, he wasn't rough. He always started out slowly, and she knew he did it so he wouldn't hurt her. At least she had that much to be thankful for. She knew he really didn't want to hurt her. He hadn't demanded anything of her, and if she could ever reconcile herself to what they were doing together, maybe her conscience would let up a bit.
Every night before he left, he asked her if she was all right. His eyes would search hers, and she knew that he was truly concerned. Maybe it was because he didn't want to lose his convenient piece of ass, but that wasn't all it was. He never expected anything from her, and she knew that he could easily get for free what he was paying her a small fortune for.
She hadn't had to learn any sexual moves; she hadn't had to do anything but open her legs for him. To put it bluntly, she was just a vagina to him. If she let herself think about what she was doing, she'd throw-up. So she tried her best not to think of it.
But, she decided what she was doing with him wasn't prostitution. What she was, even though they'd never discussed it, was his mistress. There was just no other correct terminology that she could come up with. He paid for her apartment; he paid all of her expenses. In return, she accommodated him sexually.
Well, that was better than prostitution, right?
It definitely was a lot safer, and a whole lot cleaner. Even if it still made her want to vomit.
****
On the tenth night of their 'arrangement', as she opened the containers of food and waited for him to walk from the bedroom and leave, Jessica realized that her brain and body were becoming desensitized to what she and Connor were doing.
He never hurt her, it was always the same, and her fear, at least, had completely receded. She always knew what to expect from him.
Until he shot that theory to hell by asking her something extraordinary. As he stood by the front door preparing to leave, he put his hand on the doorknob but didn't open the door. He turned to her, and ran his eyes up and down her length, just as he'd done many, many times. But then he opened his mouth and asked her something that was way, way beyond ordinary. "Didn't it occur to you that with your looks you could have sold your virginity for so much goddamned money that you'd never have to work again?"
Jessica's heart lurched in pain and she dropped the serving spoon in her hand. It clattered to the table and her eyes shot to his before cutting away again. That's what he thought of her? That's the kind of thing he thought she was capable of? And he thought she was looking for the easy way out, never to have to work? Jesus Christ, sell her virginity? It was sick. Of course, she'd never thought of it.
He stood waiting for an answer, and she knew it wasn't part of their deal that she become angry at him. But that's exactly what she did.
And maybe anger was an easier emotion, she'd much rather him know she was angry than hurt. Clearly her mistress theory was so wrong, because she was absolutely nothing but a prostitute in his mind. "No," she answered him softly as she picked the spoon up again and forced a steel rod down her spine.
"But you would have done it, right? If you'd thought of it?"
She struggled to come up with a suitable answer. She wanted to be capable of throwing out the truth, which was a denial, or even a lie and tell him, 'sure'.
But she couldn't do either. She set the spoon back down and began closing the containers as her appetite fled. "Can you please go now?"
His jaw clenched and his gaze became pointed. "You're telling me to leave?"
Her body temperature escalated. "If you don't mind."
"I do mind."
"You've never minded before."
"I do what I want to do, Jessica. Always."
"So it seems." She held herself perfectly still as she attempted to keep all emotion from her tone, wanting only to see how this would play out and then wanting it all to disappear. She had no idea why the obscene idea had occurred to him now, but she really just wanted to be left alone to lick her wounds. It occurred to her in a flash that if she raised her voice or demanded he leave again, that he'd do just the opposite. She waited for what seemed an eternity but was probably only mere seconds, and at his silence she couldn't stand it anymore and gave him an answer. She kept her voice soft and non-combative and got it over with. "I never thought of it. And if I had, I wouldn't have done it. At least not for gain." She let out a dispirited laugh. "But then again, I guess we know now that sometimes people are forced to do things they'd never have ever considered only mere days or weeks before. Life happens, not always the way we imagine it, doesn't it?"
He peered at her intently, and just as if the strange, hurtful, confusing conversation had never taken place, he nodded his head thoughtfully and said, "Tomorrow."
And she was able to start breathing again as he walked out the door.
****
The next day Jessica woke up and decided that she'd spend the day differently than she had the previous ones. The only thing she'd done other than organize and clean was to take a few walks outside around the common grounds of the apartment complex. She was going stir-crazy, and if she hadn't known for sure that Connor would go ape-shit crazy, pitch a fit and end their deal, she might have taken Anthony up on his offer and called him to come get her so they could do something.
The day was sunny and warm, and after eating leftovers for breakfast, she put on her bathing suit underneath her shorts and t-shirt and went exploring.
As far as being abandoned in a place for a few months, the place had just about everything a person could want. In addition to the pool and spa area, it had an on-site gym, a car wash, and a clubhouse that contained a flat-screen television, a pool table, and a shelf filled with DVDs, magazines and paperback books.
She'd popped her head in the clubhouse three or four times now and each time, she'd found it empty. She didn't have a television in her apartment, so having access to one here was convenient if she ever wanted to watch anything. But right now, she chose a couple of books and a magazine and strolled back out to the swimming pool area. It was completely deserted also, so she chose the lounger that was closest to the courtyard of her apartment, and she settled down into it.
She'd been out there tanning and reading for maybe an hour when two guys walked down a flight of stairs opposite to where her apartment was located. She was surprised to realize she recognized one of them. She didn't know him, had never spoken to him, but she had seen him around campus several times. Why hadn't it occurred to her that the apartment building would house students, since it was located this close to campus?
The guy she had never seen before dove into the deep end, and the other one spoke to her. "Hey."
"Hey," she returned.
"I didn't know you lived here," he said as he dropped a towel and a bottle of sunscreen on the table a few feet away from her.
"I just moved in. I've been living on campus for two years."
He grinned. "Ah, freedom. You're going to like this much better."
"You think?"
"Sure. The place is crawling with upperclassmen. Parties all the time. No worries about alcohol and getting busted by the campus police."
"Sounds fun."
"What's your name?" he asked.
"Jessica."
"I'm Eric. You're Geology, right?"
She was surprised he knew that. "Yeah. You?"
"Pre-med, baby," he returned cockily.
"Impressive."
He laughed. "I try to be." He continued to look her over and his brows drew into a frown that she couldn't interpret. He didn't seem angry, just contemplative. "You live alone?"
"Yes," she answered slowly.
"Just a one-bedroom?"
"Mm-hmm."
"Ever thought about a roommate?"
Okay. That question took her totally by surprise. "No, truthfully, I haven't thought about it one way or the other."
"I might know of someone needing to share."
"Who?"
"My cousin, Lydia. She's been accepted and is enrolled for the fall, but she's on a wait list for the dorms."
Jessica began thinking of rent split in half. "She's an incoming freshman?"
"Yeah."
"She's not on scholarship?" All the students on academic scholarship were at the top of the list for housing.
"Nah. She missed it by a good half mile. She's pretty smart, though. A serious student. She wouldn't cause you any heartache."
"I'm not sure about a roommate, I haven't given it much thought. But I'll keep it in mind."
"Can I get your number, in case?"
"Sure." He pulled out his phone and she rattled off her number. He keyed it in, and almost immediately her phone made the pinging sound indicating that she had a text message.
"Now you have mine, as well."
"Thanks." She smiled and returned her eyes to her book as he began peeling his shirt off. A few seconds later, she felt a shadow come over her. She glanced up, and he hung over her, extending the bottle of sunscreen towards her. "You're burning already."
"Thanks." She took it and squeezed out a nice sized dollop as he stood and waited.
She began rubbing it on her arms. "You need help?"
She laughed nervously. He was looking at her as if he wouldn't at all mind helping her, and she knew she didn't have the luxury of being able to start something up with him. She couldn't even encourage him. "No thanks, I've got it."
He took the tube back from her. "Which unit is yours?"
She pointed at her gated courtyard that was enclosed with a black-wrought iron fence just as all the other lower units were. "You've got a ground floor? Lucky you."
"Yeah."
"Give me a shout if you need anymore sunscreen, pretty."
Startled at the casual endearment, she glanced up at him and found his eyes hot on hers.
She managed to give him a smile of both thanks and dismissal, and he turned and dove into the pool.
It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair. Any other time in her life, she could have smiled back at him and flirted just like any other college student. But suddenly and decisively, she wasn't just another college student.
Nope, she was a young woman who belonged sexually to another man, and a man who she suddenly realized, would flip a switch if he even knew about the simple conversation she had just had.
****
That night it was tacos; she could smell them from the bedroom when Connor walked in. Jessica was still upset from his disparaging question from the night before, and she'd decided that the best way to handle him was to get rid of him as quickly as possible.
She'd long since washed the new set of sheets and put them on the bed, and when Connor came in that evening, she was already in the bed, naked from the waist down as seemed to be his preference, but
completely covered with the top sheet.
In her hand was the paperback book she was almost finished reading.
As he walked into the bedroom, she schooled her expression to keep all emotion from her features. He stood still and alert in the bedroom doorway and watched her quizzically, and Jessica knew he was puzzled because she was acting out of the ordinary. She'd never before made a move toward the bed until he motioned for her to get there.
As usual for him, he said not a word and so as casually as possible, she set the book down on the bedside table and turned over on her stomach and waited, while she clutched the pillow under her head.
He made no move for long moments, and then when he did, he was very slow and leisurely as he undressed. She could feel his eyes on her the entire time, her heart beating loudly in her eardrums. It was around seven in the evening, his usual time, and night had yet to begin falling. When he moved behind her and pushed the sheet down to the foot of the bed, she felt the slight chill on her naked buttocks at the same time she heard him suck in his breath. "What the hell did you do?"
Unnerved by both the question and his tone, she lifted herself onto her elbows and looked behind her. "What do you mean?"
He was staring at her ass and legs, and although she'd known she'd gotten a lot of sun, she hadn't realized it was quite that much. She had always tanned fairly easily, and the slight pinkness of her skin didn't hurt, at least not yet. At his continued silence, she answered his question. "I sat out by the pool today and read a book. I guess I got too much sun."
He pulled his eyes from her butt and they landed on her face. "You think, maybe?"
She shrugged her shoulders. His brow was pulled into a hardened line, and as he continued to look at her lower half, his mouth flattened into a line of disapproval. As quickly as a snake striking, he flipped her to her back and pulled off the t-shirt that covered her torso. She had nothing on underneath it, and now she leaned back on her elbows in a semi-reclining position, breathing hard, panicked at the ferocious look on his face as he held her shirt in his fist and inspected her brand new tan lines.