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Shit.

Tabitha

The little blind kitten purring on my lap has a therapeutic effect on me, his little internal motor like a lullaby. I gently rub my fingers on his forehead. One would think that a kitten that was tortured and who’d completely lost his eyes would be scared, timid, hiding from people. But he’s not. He’s totally loving and trusting, willing to give life and humans another chance.

I haven’t had a pet since I was a little girl, but this little furball is making me want one. It would be nice to have a sweet cat like this to cuddle with at night, rather than being all alone in the house. I wonder if the guy would let me have him. He really doesn’t seem like the type who would want to have a disabled pet.

“You want to come live with me, little guy?” I say in a baby voice. He purrs louder and rolls on his back so I can rub his tummy, making me laugh.

I think I accidentally upset the dominant dude. I didn’t mean to, really—I just can’t seem to control my emotions at all anymore. I’m a total mess since Nick died, and I feel as if I’m flailing off the edge of a cliff most of the time. Just a few months ago life was so different. We were trying to have a baby. We both had good jobs. We had great friends. We were happy, at least most of the time, and more than most couples I know. A lump forms in my throat as the memories play in my mind.

And now …

Now I’m lying on a some guy’s couch, a guy I let tie me up for a blow job and fuck me, a guy who threatened to spank me and wants me to submit to him. There is something incredibly alluring and sexually magnetic about him, something taboo. I want to give in to him, and I don’t even know why.

He was right about the release of control and it making me feel better. It really did, so very much, but not in any way that I have ever felt before. It was exhilarating, like falling without a net, yet knowing I would be caught. It felt dirty, too, and as much as I tried to fight it, it turned me on.

You’re a pig.

There is sadness deep in him, a darkness living there that pulls him under. He’s hiding so much from me, not letting me see all of him, and I know there is more to him than he’s letting on, more than I assumed he would be. He’s a Pandora’s box that I should probably not play with, but even after just one day, I feel hooked. I honestly think his need for control stems from a fear of abandonment and loss. If he controls the relationship, then he can’t be blindsided or hurt.

While he’s at the store, I consider calling a cab and getting the hell out of here before I get in deeper, but I can’t bring myself to do it. I’m too intrigued by him and what he’s offering. I like how he’s melting the ice around me, helping me feel again, awakening feelings I’ve never felt before, helping me find a new me.

Yesterday I wanted to die, but today I just want to kill the girl I used to be and meet the girl I could be.

It’s a start.

***

A door shutting and the kitten jumping wake me up. I look around, disoriented, and he’s standing over me, holding some bags.

“I’m sorry. I must have dozed off.”

“Don’t apologize, I want you to rest. You’re exhausted. And too thin.”

I follow him to the kitchen and help him take the stuff out of the bags. It feels strangely domestic and familiar. “I thought men liked thin.”

He winks at me and my insides melt for days. “I like some curves so I can hold onto you. You’re way too skinny. My dick weighs more than you.”

I make a disgusted face at him. “Ew. That is so … ugh. I don’t even know.” I shake my head and busy myself with the groceries while he laughs.

He’s putting things in the refrigerator, his long, black hair cascading over his muscled back and shoulders. Yesterday my head was too messed up and foggy to notice how gorgeous and sexy he is. He’s got the kind of carnal looks that stops a woman in her tracks and makes her wet instantly just by looking at him. His dark skin, facial features, and long, black hair definitely hint at him being Native American. And those muscles and tattoos … wow.

“I’m sorry I upset you earlier … before you left.”

He shrugs it off. “I don’t get upset.” He’s lying.

“I thought this worked both ways?”

“What do you mean?”

“This morning you said you needed to know what I was feeling. I need to know what you’re feeling, too.”

“I really don’t talk about my feelings. Sorry.” He pulls bottled water, assorted fruits and toiletries out of the bag. “I need to know your feelings so I can understand your needs better and help you.”

I take the milk carton he’s holding out of his hands and put it into the refrigerator. “And who helps you?” I ask him pointedly.

“I bought you some clothes,” he replies, completely ignoring my question and gesturing towards a bag on the table.

After dumping out the contents of the bag, all I see are black sweatpants, little T-shirts, and plain bikini panties.

“Geez. This is fashionable,” I joke.

“No need for fashion. I’ll have you naked most of the time and on your knees,” he says, and then pauses. “Or on all fours.”

My traitorous pussy quivers in response.

I try to change the subject. “What about my car?”

“Write down your address and I’ll call a tow truck to have it taken there. I’ll pay for it.” He opens a drawer and hands me a pen and torn piece of paper with a hotel emblem on it.

“Don’t you have a job?” I ask him, writing down my address. “And a name?”

He takes the paper from me and gives me that long stare of his, as if he’s looking right through my eyes and straight into my thoughts, making me feel vulnerable and exposed.

“We’ll talk about that later on,” he finally answers.

“Seriously? We’re going to talk about your name later?”

He doesn’t waver. “That’s what I said.”

“Don’t you want to know mine?”

“No. I’ll call you what I want to call you.”

“Fine,” I mutter, and take off out the sliding glass doors in the kitchen that lead to the backyard, sure to close the doors behind me so Sterling can’t wander out. There’s a chilly breeze coming off the lake. All I’ve got on is his thin T-shirt, but I don’t care. There are no other houses around that I can see from here, so no one’s going to see my pointy nipples and naked legs.

Walking over to the small wooden dock that extends from the yard, I find a little boat tied to it. It’s hard for me to picture him in this tiny boat; he’s just too big. I think he would sink it. I climb into the boat and untie the rope from the wooden post. There are two oars but I don’t use them; I just let the wind blow me slowly across the water. From the middle of the lake I can see a few other houses, each with their own little docks and boats. I didn’t explore his house while he was gone, but now I wished I had. There were definitely other rooms—I just lacked the interest in seeing them. Maybe there is a guest room that he will let me stay in while I’m here. Unless he expects me to sleep in his bed every night. With him? I’m not sure I can do that.

I wiggle my left hand, staring at my engagement ring and wedding band. All my memories feel so far away, and I don’t understand how that can happen in just a few months. Everything feels as if it happened a lifetime ago. I can’t remember the happiness I felt every day before the accident. Now it feels like a movie I watched, and not like it happened to me at all.

Sometimes I’m not sure if I’m grieving the loss of Nick or the loss of myself.

I peer over the edge of the boat and see a face looking back at me in the water. I don’t even recognize myself anymore. The girl in the water looks like a sad wreck.

The boat bobbing in the water is making me sleepy, and I wish I had a blanket and pillow with me so I could just curl up on the small floor of the boat and sleep. Better yet, I wish I could fall over the side, float to the bottom of the lake and just stay there.

Dom dude is just

as much of a mess as I am. Possibly even more so. He seems sad, but also dark and devious and a bit of an asshole, and yet I see fleeting glimpses of care and compassion in him too. The fact that I got on a motorcycle with him so easily without a second thought and let him bring me here to his house in the woods scares me terribly.

I look back at the house and he’s standing on the dock with a bottle in his hand. I’ve drifted out further than I thought and doubt the wind will be nice enough to lead me back, so I pick up the oars and row back. His eyebrows furrow together when I near, and he grabs the rope from my hand and ties it to the post. I watch his fingers expertly tie the knot and I feel wetness between my legs, thinking of how he tied my hands almost the same way.

He takes my arm and helps me onto the dock. “What the hell are you doing? I thought something happened to you.” He picks up his bottle of vodka and takes a swig. This cannot be good.

“What could happen? I was just floating around.”

“Next time, tell me. You can’t just disappear on me like that.”

“I wish I could just disappear. And why are you drinking?”

“Because that’s what I do.” He puts his arm around me and leads me towards the house. “Its too cold for you to be out here like this.”

As soon as we walk through the doors I can smell food cooking, so he must have started dinner while I was out on the boat disappearing. He doesn’t strike me as the cooking type, but I guess he is just full of surprises.

“It smells delicious. What are you making?”

“Chicken cordon bleu and rice pilaf.”

I can’t hide the impressed and surprised look that must be on my face. “Really? You made that?”

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