Dark Pleasures

by M. S. Parker

  “Mark me, love,” he said.

  I turned my head, drawing his skin into my mouth. He groaned as I sucked on his neck, his hands flexing on my back. His pace increased, and I felt that pressure building inside me again. I wrapped my arms around his neck, opening my mouth to whimper as he began to pound into me. I felt him getting close and I squeezed my eyes close, focusing on him. The smell of him. The sounds he made. The way his skin was sliding against mine, the way he filled me.

  “Jenna!”

  He called out my name as he buried himself inside me, his cock pulsing as he emptied into me. I ground down on him, following a few seconds later, his name on my lips.

  “I love you,” he whispered as he held me. “My Jenna.”

  I couldn't manage a response, but I knew I didn't need to. He knew I was his. No matter how much I'd tried not to fall hard and fast, it hadn't done any good. I was lost, and I knew it. Here, like this, it wasn't a problem. But, I knew we would have to eventually go back to the real world, and that was where things always got complicated. For today, however, I would enjoy what we had and not think about the rest of the year.

  Chapter 18

  The sun had been out all of New Year's Day, but it had taken until the next day for the snow to melt enough for us to leave the cabin. We probably could've stayed an extra day, just to be sure, but it was already Sunday and we knew we had to go to work on Monday. Aside from the fact that work had practically come to a halt after the incident with Christophe – though Rylan had been able to use the holidays as a good excuse to give everyone time off – if the two of us didn't show, rumors would be flying. We both agreed that it was still a good idea to keep things quiet at work. If people found out, I had no doubt most would agree with Suzette and Zeke that I'd slept my way into a job. While I didn't care that much, Rylan did and I didn't want anyone thinking he was that kind of man.

  “Thank you,” I said as Rylan slowly drove us down the mountain.

  “For what?” He risked a glance at me before turning his attention back to the road. Even with four-wheel drive, the conditions weren't the best.

  “For giving me the best holidays I've ever had.” I reached over and squeezed his arm, not wanting to distract him, but needing to touch him all the same. “You don't realize how much things like that mean until you haven't had them.” I dropped my hands into my lap, looking at them as I continued, “I remember going to school as a kid and dreading Christmas break. Everyone would talk about the things they asked Santa for, and I'd smile and pretend to go along. Pretend like I wouldn't be spending most of my time off being raped by men dressed as Santa Claus or one of his elves. Being asked if I'd been naughty or nice...” My voice trailed off and I looked out the window. “Sometimes I wonder how no one saw it. It wasn't like I had friends or anything, but you would've thought that someone, at some point, would've noticed that something wasn't right.” I touched the scar on my arm.

  “It always baffles me,” Rylan said. “How people can fail to see what's right in front of them.”

  My mind immediately flashed to Zeke and the way he was with me. I was still holding out hope that Zeke would get used to me, that I was reading too much into his behavior. I didn't think so though. I was usually a pretty good judge of character. Even with Christophe, I might not have known the depths of his depravity, but I'd sensed that there was something wrong with him. I couldn't say anything to Rylan about Zeke though. Rylan was surprisingly trusting. Or, maybe, I thought, it was loyalty. And who was I to question that? I was a naturally untrusting person, always believing the worst. Even Rylan, who'd never given me any reason to doubt him, had been subjected to my doubts, though those were usually more focused on myself than any character issues on his part.

  “Looks like the Vail snow plows have been busy,” Rylan said as he turned onto a nearly clear road. “I'd hoped things wouldn't be that bad all the way home.”

  “As much as I like the snow, I'm not that fond of traveling in it,” I admitted. “And I'm not looking forward to learning to drive in it.”

  “I like it for skiing and stuff like that,” he said. “But I can't say I'm too fond of the cold.”

  “It's better than the heat,” I said absently. “Humid air, so thick it's hard to breathe.” I almost felt it closing in around me. My chest tightened and my fingers twisted together. I took slow breaths, willing myself not to have a panic attack as the memory of the heavy Florida air came forward, clear and sharp, as if I was still there, trying desperately to take in the oxygen my burning lungs needed...

  Suddenly, my window came down a crack and a burst of cold air rushed in. Almost immediately, my muscles relaxed. The scent of pine and snow filled the car, both things I never associated with my childhood. They snapped me out of the past, bringing me back to the present and safety. As I breathed more easily, I rolled the window back up. I looked over at Rylan, but his eyes were on the road.

  “Florida,” I said. “That's where I'm from.” I sighed as I looked out the window. “I thought Colorado would be far enough away, but lately I've been wondering.”

  He reached over and took my hand. He didn't say a word, just wrapped his fingers tightly around mine. Neither of us spoke as we drove on, the only was sound the music playing in the background. Sometimes, people were quiet around me because they didn't know what to say and things got awkward. With Rylan, however, I knew that he was giving me the space I needed to process while his hand reminded me that I wasn't alone.

  He didn't break the silence until we were close enough to see Fort Collins in the distance. “You don't have to go back to your apartment,” he said. “You can stay with me tonight.”

  I was tempted, and not only because I wasn't looking forward to going back to a place that no longer felt safe. I knew Christophe was in jail and he'd been denied bail, but I could still feel him there, like he was haunting me. I could get through that though. I was used to that kind of thing. Being with Rylan was actually the only time I truly felt safe, but not in a damsel in distress kind of way. I didn't feel like I needed him to protect me. It was more like he was a shelter, a rock, something solid and reliable, someone I could lean on while I faced my demons.

  No, I had to admit, the main reason I wanted to go home with Rylan was because I knew as soon as I stepped foot in my apartment, the vacation would be over. The bubble would burst and we'd be back in the real world. With everything that had happened over the past few weeks, my life seemed very surreal. Tomorrow, it would be back to work, where people didn't know about us, and where they'd find out one of their co-workers had done something awful. I'd avoided the news after what had happened with Christophe, but I wouldn’t be surprised if my name was already out there. If the media hadn't protected me as a child, they sure as hell wouldn't do it now that I was an adult.

  “I think it'd be best if I went home,” I said. I gave Rylan a smile. “I doubt I'd get much sleep if I stayed with you.”

  His expression was one of exaggerated shock. “What? Me? I have no idea what you're talking about.”

  I laughed, some of my tension dissipating with the release.

  “I can control myself, thank you very much.” The mock-offended tone made me want to laugh again.

  “I believe you,” I said. “But I never said I could.” I winked at him and squeezed his hand. “I'm just thinking that there's going to be a lot going on tomorrow, what with trying to get caught up with everything that's been put off and everyone finding out about Christophe. I should probably get some sleep.”

  He became serious. “You can take some time if you want. There's no reason you have to be there when all this is hitting the fan.”

  “I do,” I said. The nerves in my stomach knotted at the thought of facing all those people, but I persisted. “Even if my name hasn't been released yet, someone's going to figure it out sooner or later.” My hand automatically went to my cheek where the cut was still healing. “Probably sooner when they see my face.”

  “You don't
need to put yourself through all that,” he said, concern in his voice. “I know how hard it was for you to tell me.”

  “I'm not about to give all the gory details,” I said. “But I'm also not going to let him ruin my life.” I squeezed Rylan's hand. “That's what men like him want. Power. And if I run away or hide, I'm giving him that power.”

  “All right.” Rylan nodded, but his mouth was grim. “But if anyone gets out of line, I'm either kicking their ass or firing them. Maybe both.”

  I smiled at that and raised our hands so I could kiss the back of his. When he pulled up in front of my apartment building, I was even more reluctant than before to let him go.

  He turned towards me as I unbuckled my seatbelt. “I wanted to thank you, too.”

  I gave him a puzzled look. “What for? I didn't do anything.”

  He put his hand on my uninjured cheek. “Yes, love, you did. You changed everything.” He leaned forward, claiming my lips in a soft, sweet kiss that warmed me straight down to my toes.

  I sighed as our mouths came apart. He rested his forehead against mine for a moment, then pulled back enough that we could see each other clearly.

  “I told you about what happened between Lara and me,” he said. “But what I didn’t tell you was that after everything that happened with her, I swore off relationships. I promised myself that I wouldn't get involved with anyone unless I was sure she was worth the risk of getting my heart broken.” He brushed back my hair. “You're worth the risk.”

  My heart did a funny little twist and flip. I wasn't worth any risk, but I loved him for thinking it. A flare of panic went through me. This was dangerous. I knew how hard and fast I'd fallen, that if – when – he left me, I'd be crushed, but I didn't want him to feel that way about me. It was too much and I didn't deserve it.

  “Hey.” Rylan's voice drew me back. His expression was serious. “I'm not asking for anything more than you're ready to give.” His thumb brushed across my bottom lip. “I just want you to know how I feel.”

  I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. He thought I was freaking out because he was getting too intense for me. I couldn't tell him that I didn't want him to know the depth of what I felt. He wouldn't understand. Hell, I barely understood it myself.

  “I should go.” I caught a glimpse of hurt in his eyes, but I didn't stop. I needed to get inside before I did something stupid like confess everything, including how I hated being away from him and saying that I'd stay with him as long as he wanted me.

  I grabbed my bag and hurried inside without looking back.

  By the time I reached my apartment, my heart was racing and it wasn't from climbing three flights of stairs. I dropped my stuff on the floor and sank down on my couch, putting my head in my hands.

  How could he trust his heart to me? I'd done nothing to deserve it. I'd put him in danger with Christophe. I'd hidden things from him. I was broken and didn't know if I'd ever be whole. He'd said I was worth the risk, but I wasn't. If I was smart, I'd let him go before things got worse. Just the thought of it though tore me up inside.

  The intensity of what I felt for him scared me. Hell, it terrified me. I'd never wanted to be one of those women who needed a man, but I needed him. Was there a difference? I thought there was. I could stand on my own and I never thought I had to be in a relationship. I'd actually avoided them. But with Rylan, there was this connection, this deep desire that only had a little to do with sex. It wasn't men I needed. It was him. Only him.

  I shook my head and stood. I took my things into my room and then went into the bathroom. For the first time, when I looked at my reflection, I let myself see the truth. I'd told Rylan that I'd dyed my hair because it had been my trademark as a child. And while that was true, it wasn't the entire truth. I touched my eyebrow ring and frowned. How much of this was about hiding? Creating the kind of persona that would put people off?

  I'd spent my entire childhood being who I was told to be. Submissive daughter. Slutty cheerleader. Naughty schoolgirl. Innocent schoolgirl. Slut. Virgin. A thousand different roles and the knowledge that I had to adapt or I would pay the price. Understanding this, my therapist had told me to be an individual, to find my own identity. I hadn't admitted to myself, until now, that I'd even been playing then. I'd been the dutiful patient, following the rules. Then I'd left, gone away to college, and realized that I'd need to do it again to protect myself. What better way to put up a wall than to make myself look like an outsider.

  I went back into my room and picked up my bag. The sidewalks were clear enough that I could walk to the grocery store, and I still had a little while before dark. This was a new year, and I was going to start it off the right way.

  As me.

  The idea frightened me, but I needed to do it. And not just for Rylan, but for myself. I was never going to heal if I wasn't me. And for the first time, I truly wanted to be healed. Not just functional, focusing on certain goals and avoiding everything else. I wanted to be whole. And this would be the first step.

  Chapter 19

  I must've spent a good ten minutes staring at myself in the mirror Monday morning. The holes where my eyebrow ring had gone were barely visible and I knew they'd grow over in hardly any time at all. Next to the eyebrow ring on my sink was the one from my bellybutton. I'd kept the ones in my ears. Those felt like a part of who I really was. Same with my tattoos. I hadn't gotten those for anyone other than myself.

  I was wearing my favorite pair of dress pants, a flowing pair that almost looked like a skirt, but were much warmer and more appropriate for early January than a skirt would've been. My top was a sleeveless vest, buttoned up so that only a hint of cleavage showed. My arms were bare, but my coat would take care of that. Finishing things off was a pair of mid-calf leather boots. Nothing about my wardrobe had changed. I liked how I dressed.

  I nervously smoothed down my hair. That was the big one and I knew it would attract the most attention. For the first time since I was thirteen, my hair was the shining ebony black I'd been born with. The dye matched my natural color enough that I doubted anyone would notice the difference when my own hair started to grow in.

  Right after I'd done it, I'd been too afraid to look at my reflection, wondering if I'd see the girl I used to be staring back at me, accusing me of abandoning her. To my relief, however, when I'd finally worked up the courage to look, I'd seen only me. I hadn't realized that I'd still thought of myself with black hair until I saw it again.

  Now came the next step and I didn't doubt it'd be hard, but I'd already taken the most difficult step by actually dying my hair back. No matter what anyone else thought, I finally felt like I was back in my own skin.

  When I walked into Archer Enterprises, I smiled as the security guards started to stand, obviously not recognizing me. I watched as their expressions went from surprise to admiration to professional all in a matter of seconds. I appreciated that neither of them said anything. I doubted most of the others would do the same, especially when I knew a lot of them would be figuring out things about Christophe and me, maybe even Rylan and me.

  I was in the elevator alone, which gave me an extra couple minutes to compose myself before I stepped out onto the floor where my office was. I kept my head up but didn't look at anyone in particular as I walked. I was still able to tell, however, when people saw me. The usual murmur of chatter, which had been louder than normal, faded until the place was absolutely silent. Only as I sat at my desk did I hear it resume.

  “Wow, Jenna.”

  I looked up. “Emmaline.”

  “You almost look normal.” She gave my outfit a clear once-over. “Almost.”

  “And that was almost nice.” I gave her a sugary sweet smile. “Almost.”

  Her turquoise eyes flashed as she smiled at me, and then walked away. Emmaline Kent hadn't liked me from moment one, maybe because she'd sensed the connection between Rylan and me even though, as far as she knew, we were only employer and employee. I'd wondered what she'd do if she kne
w Rylan and I were dating. I had the sudden urge to tell her where I'd spent New Year's and exactly what I'd been doing and who I'd been doing it with. I wouldn't, of course, but it was definitely tempting.

  Focusing on work wasn't as easy as I'd hoped it would be. I knew it'd be easier if I closed my office door, but I didn't want anyone thinking the gossip was getting to me. I heard enough snippets of it to be distracting. It was equal parts about my hair and Christophe, which I found strangely amusing.

  “...think she was told to change it or she'd get fired?”

  “...I heard he broke into someone's house, tried to rape her...”

  “...must be tired of getting called a freak...”

  “...someone from work; I wonder who...”

  “...is it possible...”

  “...do you think...”

  I was still in the process of answering emails and noting issues with certain programs when my phone rang.

  “Jenna, could you come up to my office when you have a minute?”

  “Of course.” I hung up and tried to quiet the butterflies fluttering in my stomach. I hadn't told him what I'd done and now I wondered how he would react. I didn't think he'd be mad or anything stupid like that. He wasn't that kind of man. No, I was just hoping he'd like the color. He knew what my natural color was, but he'd never actually seen it on me.

  When I stepped off of the elevator and into his office, his back was to me, his attention focused on some paper he had spread out across the conference table.

  He started to speak even as he turned. “I just wanted to apologize for...” His voice trailed off, eyes widening as he saw me. “Jenna?”

  I gave him an almost shy smile. “Do you like it?”

  He crossed the distance between us quickly, raising his hand as if to touch my hair. He dropped it, frowning. “I didn't want you to do this.” He shook his head. “I didn't want you to feel like you had to change.”