She glances at the movie, before she does as I say, an odd thrill goes through me at seeing her enjoy the food. She makes a small sound in her throat as she tastes the two together and I have to grip my fork and knife harder as my dick twitches. I need to go out and get laid, that's all this is. It's been like six months since the last time. I'm not one that typically likes one-night stands, but I have them when I really need to have sex. Must be getting to that point again.
She looks at me. "That's so good. I never knew wine could taste so good. I always drank it to get drunk, so I never bothered to fully taste it and enjoy it."
A smile pulls at my lips. "Well, I'm glad that you like it. I'm not trying to get you drunk, just so you know. We can stop whenever you want. Okay?"
Another shiver shakes her shoulders and she nods. I'm glad my plate is over my dick, at least it's giving me a chance to get myself under control. That shiver is most certainly one of suppressed lust. I don't know what I'm saying or doing to turn her on, but I can tell I am. The fact that I'm horny as hell isn't helping matters, and I basically told her last week I would spend most of the weekend here, just so she has human contact. This is going to be a true challenge for my self-control.
Next week is Mother’s Day. I have a family luncheon to go to before Mother’s Day, but on the actual day, I have nothing planned. I'm not even sure she'll know it's Mother’s Day, but I don't want her to spend that whole weekend alone down here. Maybe I'll bring desert to make up for not spending the whole weekend with her. I don't know what she likes, but maybe I can figure it out over this weekend.
I didn't figure out much about her while gutting her apartment so that the landlord will think she up and moved without saying something. Her place was messy with food containers, but that was it. She didn't decorate it. None of her personality shows through anywhere. Even her clothes don't say much other than she likes to hide.
The movie ends and she seems happy with it. "Do you want more wine?" I take her empty glass off the floor as she stands with the dirty dishes.
She nods, as she goes to the trash and tosses our T-bones into it. I'll need to take them out with me when I leave for the store in the morning, I'm sure there will be a dumpster around the store somewhere, where I can dump them.
She washes and rinses the plates off and puts them on the drying rack before she moves onto the pot and pan. I place a hand over hers as I pick it up for her to take her glass. "We can wash the dishes tomorrow. Don't worry about it for the night now. We can put another movie on, or some music and talk."
She stares at me for a long second before she takes the glass from me and downs half of it. "We can talk, but I'm going to need something stronger than wine. I do owe you some explanation of why there are people who want me dead. You're protecting me from them after all."
I nod. I agree with her. The more I know about my enemy, the better. "I'll make us some sprite and vodka drinks. I also brought some cherry juice if you want me to mix that in. It makes them a little bit sweeter."
Her eyes widen as if I've just said the magic words that she's dying to hear. She nods and finishes off her wine, putting down the glass she signs, "That sounds lovely."
So she likes cherry-flavored things I'm guessing. I'll add a bit more cherry juice to her drink and see if she downs it quickly or not. I don't want to get her a drunk, but I do want to make this talk as easy on her as I can. I imagine whatever she's going to tell me won't be easy.
Chapter Nine
Gwen
He goesto the fridge and opens it. He said cherry; I love cherry anything. I used to lift cherry airheads all the time when I could get away with it. Honestly, whether it's the actual fruit or the artificial stuff, I love it all. I've never been able to get enough of it.
Putting the stuff on the counter, he looks at me. "Go put on some music you want to listen to, and I'll make us some drinks."
There it is again, that tone in his voice that he uses when he's telling me to do something. I should be upset, tell him to stop bossing me around like a House Elf?reading the entireHarry Potterseries in a week might have not been the best idea?but the urge isn't there.
What is wrong with me? What makes him different? If anyone else tried to do that with me and they weren't paying me to work, I would tell them fuck off. Every time he gets that tone to his voice I shiver. There's something about his voice, that has to be it. It makes me want to do things. Whatever he says he wants me to do.
Going to the records to put space between us, I look through them. I settle on a blues album. I don't know who it's by, but I know blues will be soft background music so there's something there to fill the silence while I'm signing to him.
Once the record is playing, I turn up the volume a little bit and turn off the TV. I won't need it back on until it's time to go to sleep.
He makes anoooh, sound as the first song fades in fully. "Oh, you picked a good, one, I love this album."
I smile as he comes over with pink drinks for both of us. He takes a sip of his as he adjusts the volume on the record player. Why does he have to be so perfect? It's clear he's comfortable with himself. He got me two boxes of tampons as if they were nothing, he didn't squirm away from putting them in the bathroom. He's drinking a pink drink, and he's watched more than one romantic movie with me. I wish more than anything I could look normal so he would be attracted to me as well.
He takes a seat.
I take a long drink. Oh, he put a lot of vodka in this, but also a lot of cherry juice, in fact, it's more cherry than it is Sprite. I like this a lot. By the time I pull it from my lips nearly half is gone. I didn't mean to drink so much so fast, but it tasted so good. I'm going to be feeling that in about twenty minutes. I'm already a little bit buzzed. At least it will help me disconnect from the memories and just be able to talk.
"So," he clears his throat. "Why don't you start from the beginning of where you think it needs to start for me to understand."
I turn to face him so my back is against the arm of the sofa and my legs can criss-cross in front of me. I set my glass in my lap. I swallow hard. "It was eleven years ago to the day now that I think about it. I was almost eleven and I'd just gotten home from school. My parents worked until five and I got home at three-thirty. I wasn't ever home alone for long, but I had just gotten them to take me out of daycare. I felt I was too old for it. After all, I was going to be eleven in a week."
I can't help but roll my eyes at that. If I hadn't been so pushy with wanting to be home alone for an hour and a half, none of what's happened to me would've ever happened in the first place.
"What happened during the time they weren't home?"
I lick my lips. "I'd been working on homework so that I would be allowed to watch TV after dinner when there was a knock at the door. At first, I'd been scared, my parents told me not to answer the door if they weren't there. But when I looked, it was a woman."
