Translucent

by Erin Noelle

  “Welcome back, Madden,” she drawls, taking a step towards me. “I’ve been waiting so long I had to start without you.” Swiping her wet, sticky fingers across my lips, she smirks at her own little game.

  Pushing her away, I wipe my mouth with my forearm and glower at her. “What in the fuck are you doing? Put some clothes on, Emerson,” I demand furiously.

  “Shh! You’re old hag of a secretary will hear you,” she whines. “What’s your problem anyway?”

  “How many times do I have to tell you I’m not interested? Go fuck Easton, or anybody else for that matter. Just leave me alone.”

  Her bottom lip juts out in an over-exaggerated sulk. “That’s not what you were saying a few weeks ago. Is this because of that pathetic little thing you brought with you to the gala? Blake—was that her name? Please don’t tell me you’re playing with babies, Madden.”

  It takes everything inside me not to slap the shit out of her. I’m not a violent man by nature, but hearing her talk badly about Blake makes me see red. Grabbing her wrists forcefully, I narrow my eyes and growl, “Get dressed. Leave my office. And don’t you ever say a fucking negative thing about her again. Am I clear?”

  Tears well up in her eyes as she rips her hands out of my grasp. “Crystal.” Walking over to where her dress is draped over a chair, she hastily puts it on and moves to leave. Right before turning the handle, she calls out over her shoulder, “You may want to call your brother. He’s been MIA since after your parent’s house on Sunday.”

  WHEN MADDEN RETURNS TO his house late Thursday afternoon after being at the office, I can immediately tell something is bothering him. He smiles and kisses me hello, but his eyes tell a different story; they’re withdrawn and troubled, something I haven’t seen before.

  “Is everything okay?” I ask as he strips out of his work attire and gets ready for a shower. “Are you far behind because of the time you were out?” I truly felt terrible he’d missed three full days at the office because of me. The last thing I want to be is a burden to him…more than I already am with my issues.

  “Work was fine. Caroline took care of mostly everything, so I only had a few things to review,” he says flatly.

  “Something’s up. You ready for me to go home? I promise I’ll be fine by myself.”

  He sits down on the bed next to where I’ve been laying all day and cups my face in his hands. “The last thing I want is for you to leave, Blake. I couldn’t wait to get home, knowing you were waiting here.” He kisses my forehead tenderly. “It’s Easton…again,” he sighs.

  The memory of his brother and being in trouble with the Russian mob puts me on high alert; my body goes rigid and my heart begins to pound. Madden immediately notices my reaction. “Are you okay? Has Easton said or done something to you to make you uncomfortable?” He lifts his eyebrow, concerned.

  I shake my head back and forth. “No, not to me personally. I just remember what happened last weekend, and was worried he’d gotten in trouble again wi-with the wrong people.”

  His brow relaxes as his shoulders slump. “Easton’s always in trouble with someone,” he explains with exasperation. “He’s been a troublemaker since he was a kid, and I always thought he’d grow out of his selfish, rebellious ways, but it only seems to be getting worse.”

  “What kind of trouble?”

  “As a kid, it was skipping school, drinking, getting high, sleeping with other guys’ girlfriends…whatever made him happy. Now, he still drinks too much, gets high on occasion, fucks whomever he wants—spoken for or not, and the biggest issue lately is gambling. Whether he’s gambling on the golf course, at a casino, in someone’s home, at the tracks…it doesn’t matter; it’s about the rush, the thrill of the win for him. He’s been in Vegas since Sunday for the second time this month, and he called asking me to wire money into his account this afternoon. All this after what happened on Saturday night, and I told him then how frustrated I was with him. I’m tired of cleaning up his messes all around.”

  “Are your parents aware of the situation?”

  “They know, but they pretend not to. It’s easier for them that way. My mom babies him, which only adds to the problem, and ever since my dad had his heart attack, he tries not to get too riled up over anything. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve told myself it’s the last time I’m bailing him out, but this time I mean it. As far as I’m concerned, our brotherly ties have been cut.”

  “Don’t say that,” I plead. “I know you’re frustrated…fed up…pissed off, but he’s your family. No matter what he does, he’ll always be your brother. Be thankful you’ve got him.” Memories of Brandon fill my mind, and my eyes fill with tears.

  Madden lifts me into his lap, holding my head against his chest. “I didn’t mean to upset you, sweet girl. I know he will; I can’t continue to enable him though.”

  “I know you didn’t mean to.” I try to push back the tears and kiss his neck lightly, deciding to tell him a little more about myself. I hope it will make him cherish Easton a little more, even if he is a pain in the ass. “I used to have a younger brother named Brandon. He was eighteen months younger than I was, but was always the man of the house growing up, since our dad left when we were both really young. He was my best friend, my closest confidant until…” I take a deep breath in through my nose and out through my mouth before continuing, “…he died the same day my mom did. The two people I loved most in this world just…gone…forever.”

  His arms tighten around me, swallowing my thin body as he presses his lips to the top of my head over and over. “I’m so sorry, Blake. I can’t imagine what that kind of loss is like.”

  “The reason I’m telling you isn’t for pity, but to make you understand the importance of your family. You don’t have to aid or assist him, but don’t give up on your brother.”

  We sit in silence, holding each other for a few minutes, my thoughts on Brandon and I assume his are on Easton. Finally, he says, “You want to shower with me?”

  I lean back to look up at him and see a mischievous smirk playing at his lips. “But I thought the doctor said—”

  “We can take a shower together without having sex, you naughty girl. I see where your mind is,” he scolds teasingly.

  I roll my eyes and laugh, loving how he can quickly change my sorrowful state of mind. “No, you go ahead. I can’t promise I’ll keep my hands to myself if I’m in there with you; plus, Sarah insisted I take one not too long ago.”

  He lifts me up out of his lap as he stands, and places me back down on the mattress, with one more kiss to my head. “Okay, then I’ll hurry. I can’t wait to hear about your day; I’ve been so rude all wrapped up in mine I haven’t even asked about yours.”

  I swat his ass as he walks away. “I’ll pull out all of my notes from the soap operas I watched for a full report when you get out,” I joke. He chuckles and disappears into the bathroom.

  Friday is much like Thursday—Sarah fusses over me, forcing me to eat something every two hours and ensuring I take my pills at the allotted times while Madden is at work. By Saturday, cabin fever sets in and I’m itching to get outside for a little bit. After a little nagging and a lot of whining, Madden finally agrees to take me on a drive.

  We wander through the curvy roads of Malibu Canyon, stopping every so often to get out at the designated viewpoints to appreciate the breathtaking vistas of the Pacific coast. The day is a bit overcast, and dark clouds building out over the ocean indicate the chance of rain, but I’m simply happy to be out in the fresh air. My ankle is feeling much better than it did Wednesday when I was released, and I hope by Monday I’ll be walking without a limp, even though I have to wear the brace for another week.

  At one specific outlook point, Madden and I are there commenting on how the surfers out in the water look like tiny specs from the distance we’re at, when a minivan with Oregon license plates pulls up and a family unloads. The dad and the two older children—maybe eight and ten—all have cameras around their neckS
, and he’s explaining to them different ways of adjusting the aperture and focus. The kids are asking lots of questions, which he happily answers, and they’re soaking up the information. A few minutes later, the very-pregnant mom joins them holding another little toddler, and she looks over and smiles at us. We repay the friendly gesture and then return to our car, giving them the full use of the observation deck.

  Once we are back on the road, Madden asks, “Do you ever want a family like that?”

  My breath hitches as I struggle with how to answer the question without lying to him. “I used to, but now I’m not so sure. What about you?”

  “I don’t think I want four kids, but I’d definitely like one or two someday,” he replies thoughtfully. “I want to do it right though, with the woman I plan on spending the rest of my life with. I’ve been blessed my parents have always been together; I couldn’t imagine putting a child through a messy divorce. Why don’t you think it’s for you anymore? You’re still so young.” He turns the conversation back to me.

  My stare is glued to the scenery passing by outside the window; I don’t want him to see the pain in my eyes. “I don’t know,” I murmur with a shrug.

  “I want to share a little about my past with you, Blake. I’m not telling you this with any expectation for you to do the same, but I want you to know a little about my history with women, so you can better understand why and how I feel the way I do. Okay?”

  “Yeah, that’s fine.” I’ve actually wondered quite a bit about Madden’s past, like how a man with his handsome looks and intelligence has made it to this age and isn’t married with a family.

  “Growing up, through high school and college, I was your typical rich kid. I dated the pretty girls, moved from one to the next as I’d get bored, which was pretty much what all of my friends did. Then, my senior year of college, I fell in a love with a girl named Leighton, and I thought she felt the same way about me. She was at Pepperdine on a scholarship, as her parents weren’t from a very affluent area, but we still had a lot in common. From the minute we met, we were together; it was just understood, ya know? We got engaged about a year later, and my parents questioned her motives for the wedding, hinting that she was possibly marrying me for the socio-economic status that came along with it, but I just knew they were crazy.

  “So we were in the middle of the wedding planning and all that shit; I thought I was living the dream and we were gonna live happily ever after, just like my parents, but apparently, she didn’t share the same value I placed in loyalty and devotion. When I found out she was cheating on me, everything I believed about love and relationships was destroyed. I promised myself I’d never trust anyone again, and until recently, I haven’t. That was over ten years ago. I haven’t spoken to her since, and my dating life has consisted of meaningless hook-ups for more than a decade.”

  I tear my eyes from the window and look over at him empathetically. “I’m sorry that happened to you. People really fucking suck sometimes.”

  “Yeah, they do.” He smiles slightly at me and rests his hand on my thigh. “It feels different when I’m with you, though. You don’t suck.”

  My cheeks heat up and I look down at his hand. “I can suck,” I draw my bottom lip in-between my teeth, chewing on it nervously, “if you want me to.” I peek up at him through my lashes as he sucks in a gulp of air. My attempt to redirect the conversation works beautifully. I may tell him about Ish one day, but not today.

  “You’re going to get yourself in trouble with that dirty mouth, sweet girl. Just wait until Monday,” he warns with a tsk, tsk.

  I lean over the center console and softly kiss right under his ear. “I can’t wait.”

  ********************

  Monday afternoon, Madden takes me to the doctor’s appointment, and after a slew of neurological tests, where I walk in a straight line, touch my finger to my nose, and a bunch of other physical and cognitive checks, I’m released for regular activity with the agreement of a follow-up CT scan in three months. I assume he’s going to take me to my apartment after the appointment, but instead, he drives back to his house.

  “Why aren’t you taking me home?” I ask, confused when he pulls up in his driveway.

  “I am. What do you mean?”

  “To my home. You know, the apartment where I pay rent and keep all my belongings.”

  He laughs at my dry humor. “Oh, right. Well, I thought since you’ve been released,” he glances over at me and waggles his eyebrows playfully, “you’d stay one more night with me, and I can take you home on my way to the office tomorrow. Unless you don’t want to, that is.”

  The thought of being intimate with him instantly sparks a heated buzz throughout me. “Of course I want to, but I have to go back to work tomorrow too.”

  “I’ve already messaged Mr. Thompson and let him know you’d be back on Wednesday. I thought you could use one more day to rest,” he answers matter-of-factly.

  “Madden!” I exclaim. “You’ve got to stop doing all of this for me. I’m not a child; I can handle my business. He’s going to think I’m hiding behind you, using you as a shield for my inability to act like an adult. I’m still trying to prove myself there as the youngest and newest employee on the team.”

  He creases his brow with frustration as we continue to sit in his car. “I’m sorry; I didn’t think of it that way. I don’t think you’re unable to do these things or that you’re a child; I just want to take care of you. It makes me happy. I want to make your life as easy as possible, so you can focus on making yourself happy, to set you free from all the bad that plagues you.”

  His words liquefy me into a gooey mess. No one has ever said anything remotely that compassionate or considerate to me before, and I feel guilty for snapping at him. Instead of saying ‘I’m sorry’ to express my apology, I crawl onto the driver’s seat, straddle his lap, and crash my lips onto his while pressing my body against him. “Take me upstairs, Sir,” I moan into his mouth.

  “DO YOU TRUST ME?” Madden asks in a low voice as he places kisses along my jawline.

  His husky staccato vibrates throughout me, rousing a deep hum in my most sensitive area. My slender, naked body is pinned underneath his bare, lean muscles atop the plush gray linens on his bed. After I asked him to take me to his room, he obliged fervently, bounding from his car, springing up the stairs with me in his arms, and stripping us both in the blink of an eye.

  “Yes,” I gasp when he reaches my earlobe and begins to suck and nibble lightly on it. Even though I don’t trust him or anyone else with the secrets of my past, that’s not what he’s asking right now. In this moment, I trust him completely with my body, to push my sensual boundaries without hurting me, like he’s promised to do.

  “Yes?” he questions with a tilt of his head.

  “Yes, Sir,” I reply hastily. I’ve never thought those two words could excite me the way they do, but there’s something about the transference of control to him that drives me wild.

  It’s been over a week since I felt him inside me, over a week since I made the decision to willingly surrender my body to his control. Our first time together was like nothing I’ve ever experienced, better than I ever dreamed sex could be, but he claims it was only the beginning, and I’m more than eager to see where he takes me from here.

  Madden climbs off of me briefly and grabs something from the drawer in the bedside table. Hovering back over me, he dangles a dark piece of fabric from his fingers and explains, “I’m going to tie this loosely around your eyes.” Alarmed, my eyes grow wide with his words. Reaching out with his other hand, he gently caresses my cheek. “Calm down, Blake. I promise I won’t hurt you whatsoever. The blindfold will intensify all of your other senses, especially touch. I promise you; you’re going to love it.”

  “I-I don’t know,” I mumble, afraid I’ll freak out once it’s tied on.

  “Your hands will be completely free, so at any point you want to remove it, you can, and I won’t fold it over, so only one l
ayer of the cloth will cover your eyes; it won’t be completely dark. Please trust me, sweet girl.” The fondness and affection in his eyes speaks directly to me, and I find myself agreeing to his request.

  “Okay. I’ll try it for you.”

  He leans down to kiss me gently. “Not only for me, but for you too. For us.”

  Us. The word echoes in my ears as I lift my head off the pillow, allowing him access to tie the cloth around my eyes. As promised, he secures the blindfold tightly enough to where it won’t fall off, but loose enough to where I don’t feel entirely constricted. A small amount of light permeates through the translucent material, but it’s diffused so that nothing else is visible through it.

  “Does that feel okay?” he asks as he strokes my hair.

  “Yes, Sir.” My pulse quickens and I nod my head, anticipation and excitement replacing apprehension and trepidation. I can’t believe I’m doing this.

  “Good. Trust me,” he whispers wickedly into my ear. The warm breath of air feathers over the delicate skin of my neck, and the pinball of sensual pleasure begins to bounce around inside my body. Without my sight, the other senses swing into overdrive, and I can feel a profound shift in the air surrounding us. Using the tip of his tongue, Madden makes swirling motions down the length of my neck as his hands softly massage my breasts. Instinctively, I lift my arms above my head and hold onto the headboard, granting him total access to my body.

  “That’s my girl,” he encourages me. “Go with what you feel.”

  The bed dips as he shifts his weight, no longer straddling my hips, but instead, sitting next to me on the bed. The sound of the drawer opening and closing causes my body to tense up momentarily, but he quickly brings his face close to mine. He rubs his nose up and down the outer shell of my ear and whispers soothingly, “Relax. I’m not going to hurt you.”

  A shiver runs down my spine as a soft, delicate object brushes across my ear and neck, replacing his steamy breath. He slides it across my cheek and under my nose, and its lack of odor doesn’t give any clue as to what it is. He wiggles it slightly, and the wispiness tickles the tip of my nose. A feather! Once I realize what he’s using to stimulate my body, I relax, forgetting my hesitations about being blindfolded and succumbing to the myriad of sensations coursing through my body.