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“Henry? Is that you?”
“Sorry did I wake you?” his slurred voice came through the darkness and I pulled myself up to a sitting position, wrapping my duvet tightly around my chest. I was only wearing a little silk cami and shorts set and I felt bare in front of my new stepbrother. I rubbed my eyes as I took in his dishevelled appearance. He had definitely been drinking. His sandy blonde hair was messy and his shirt was open halfway down his chest even though he still had his suit jacket on. His tie was around his head in a knot like boys always do for attention, thinking they look cool and hilarious. He clumsily pulled it off when he saw me staring at it and chuckled.
“Forgot that was there,” He turned and looked at me. Even through the dark, I felt his expression change. He was looking at me like…like I had seen him look at Sophie, his girlfriend. But this was more. More intense.
Swallowing down my awkwardness, I asked, “What are you doing here Henry? I thought you were staying at Sophie’s after the graduation ball?”
His lips pulled up into a little smirk and I sat perfectly still. He was making me feel so…uncomfortable, but I didn’t know why.
“I was meant to but…”
“But?” I whispered. I wanted him to leave. To go to his own room or Sophie’s. I didn’t want him on my bed or looking at me the way he was.
“But I would rather be right here. With you.” My heart was drumming in my ears. What was he talking about? He rested his hand on my leg again over the duvet and I froze. Leaning forward, he brushed my hair off my shoulder. “You are so beautiful, Livvy. I think about you all the time. From the moment I saw you I knew we belonged together, but I wanted to wait until you were a bit older. A bit more…mature.”
He climbed up the bed, inching closer to me, and the potent smell of alcohol made me feel sick. I was sitting open-mouthed with shock. What was he talking about? I couldn’t find my voice as he played with a strand of my hair between his fingers. His eyes pierced mine.
“I can show you things, Livvy. I have waited so long to show you all the things I can do for you. Have you ever been touched? Down there?”
Suddenly, my senses came forth as his fingers travelled down my chest over my breast and towards my…
“Stop! Henry! What are you doing?” I hit his hand away, my eyes wide in shock and disgust. “You are my brother!”
He sat back and the anger was evident as his eyes narrowed and jaw clenched. “Stepbrother. That means nothing Livvy. I want you and you want me. I know it. You belong to me. You are mine.”
He lunged at me. His lips were harsh and demanding against mine, knocking me back against the headboard. His hands were everywhere, in my hair, my neck, squeezing my breasts. His tongue darted into my mouth forcefully and I pushed against his chest with as much might as I could, turning my head away. He moved his lips to my neck as he pinned me down with his body weight and I started to really panic. My survival instincts kicked in and I sent my arms and legs flailing around as much as possible and shouted, “Henry! Stop! Get off me!”
His hand came over my mouth to muffle my screams and my eyes widened. “Livvy. Don’t fight this. This is meant to be. You will see. I will make you so happy.”
He replaced his hands with his lips again and I bit down as hard as I could on his bottom lip. “Argh!” He jumped up, touching his bleeding mouth, and I scrambled away from him out of bed. Running to the door, I felt his hand on my wrist pull me back and courage kicked in. I sent my fist flying into the middle of his face as he spun me with force. I heard a crack. And then his scream. Blood poured onto my fluffy sheepskin rug and he clutched his broken nose. I froze. The look in his eyes was crippling. Pure darkness, rage and…evil.
“You fucking bitch. You will regret this. I will never leave you alone. You are mine and if I can’t have you. No one will.”
With that, he stormed past me and out of my room, slamming the door behind him.
My eyes flew open as the tightness in my chest intensified and I gasped for air. There wasn’t enough. I couldn’t breathe. Sweat trickled down my forehead and my body was drenched, soaking the mattress. I was going to die. If I didn't get any air in a few seconds, I was going to die. Time slowed down to a grinding halt. No. I knew this all too familiar feeling. I am having a panic attack. The dream. That was the trigger. Sitting up and clutching my chest, I closed my eyes and focused on taking a deep breath and counting to five like my counsellors taught me. Exhaling out slowly and repeating. It was only a dream. It wasn’t real. He isn’t here. He doesn’t know where I am. I am safe. I pulled at the elastic hairband on my wrist, reminding me that it wasn't happening. This is real.
As my breathing gradually started to even out and I felt the panic shimmer down, I lay back against the headboard of my little single bed. It had been at least a week since I had dreamt of him. But I knew all too well what had triggered it.
That flashback was how it all began. How my world became smaller and terrifying after that very night. Sometimes, I actually wonder what would have happened if I had given in to him that night. If I had let him do what he wanted to me. Would he have left me alone? Would his infatuation dissolve to nothing after he had me? Would Nate still be alive? I shook my head. No. He wouldn’t have stopped. He would never have let me go. According to the psychiatrist who assessed his mental health after he was arrested, he was obsessed with me to the point that he believed that I belonged to him. That I was his property and no one was allowed to touch me without his permission. He believed what he did to Nate was his purpose. I know he would have been very convincing. But I knew him better. Yes, he was obsessed with me, but it was so much more than that. It was his ego. His pride. I turned him down. I didn't want him. He belittled me, insulted me and tormented me daily for two years because I said no to him. That is more than just an obsession. That is revenge. He knew what he was doing and he knew it was wrong. He just didn't care.
Rubbing my face, I flung the covers off me and swung my legs out of bed. There was no way I was going back to sleep after that. Stumbling out of my bedroom and into the kitchen to grab a drink, I noticed Gigi’s iPad on charge. Unhooking it, I made myself comfortable on the sofa with a blanket and opened up her Instagram. I smiled as the screen filled with fun, lovely and bright images of her profile. I have to say I thought I would miss it. Social media. It has been at least two months since I deleted it all. Every trace of me off the internet that I could find from the last few months. But I don’t miss it one bit. I hate not seeing what my friends and mum are doing, but apart from that, it has felt more therapeutic than anything. A part of my mind has been set free. I no longer worry about what other people are up to. Are they having more fun than me? Are they happier? Have better clothes? Making more money? The fear of always thinking you could be doing more with your life by holding it up against the lives of so many that don't even care if I existed or not. No. I didn't miss it. But there was one thing it was good for. Getting information about someone you are about to go on a date with.
Typing Luca’s name into the search bar, he came up instantly. His main photo was a group shot of him with a few friends. They were all dressed in casual clothes and stood on a wall overlooking the city of Verona. Luca was grinning widely in the picture, maybe even laughing- that’s how bright his smile was. His arm around one of his buddies and looking carefree and happy. Scrolling down his page, there was more of the same. His profile said everything about him. Sociable, happy, popular and full of life. He reminded me a lot of Nate. My heart tugged at the thought. Would this be what Nate’s profile would look like if he ever had the chance to live?
Dropping the iPad onto my chest, I raised my hands to my head and fought back the tears. Crying does nothing, Liv. Crying won’t bring him back. Grief and guilt threatened to overwhelm me as I took a few deep breaths to calm myself. I needed a distraction. Anything.
The first thing that entered my mind was his handsome face. Giovanni. Lifting the iPad again, I hovered my finger over the search bar before giving in. I typed his name and my heart fluttered when his profile appeared. Clicking on it, I wasn’t surprised to see that his profile was private. A striking difference between his and Luca’s. Clicking on the only photo I had access to, I stared at his striking features that were giving the camera a smouldering look. His arms were folded across his chest and he was leaning on the hood of one of his blood orange Ferrari’s. I zoomed in on it. My stomach tingled. Just seeing his face right now was sending my body into overdrive and all thoughts of my past were gone.
Turning off the iPad, I closed my eyes and gave into my body's needs. Allowing my mind to drift freely to thoughts of the infuriating man who is starting to make me feel things I have never felt before. The moments from this morning that felt like a lifetime ago now flood my mind. His body posed in Sani’s bed. His sexy smirk when he caught me staring. The filthy words he whispered in my ear that my body reacted to so effortlessly. The feel of his skin as I rubbed the sun cream on his face. The cheeky, playful flirting between us as we stood under Juliet’s balcony. To my surprise, my vagina was pulsing. Dying to be touched. My whole body was. I needed to burn away the memories from that dream with something new. I glided my hand down my body, caressing my nipples until I reached my aching clit. Slowly starting to rub in circular motion, I gasped as the more intense moments I had shared with Giovanni came to mind. The scene in his office, when he brushed his minty lips against mine. The feel of his strong hand wrapped around my throat. My back arched off the sofa as my pleasure intensified. The sight of his sweating, ripped body beating the crap out of that bag. His body pressed up against mine and the smell of his musky scent and sweaty skin.
“I’m trying. I’m fucking trying.”That voice. That deep, husky Italian accent.
I started to pant as my orgasm built and just as I was allowing my imagination to run wild with ideas of what might have happened if I hadn’t pushed him away tonight, I exploded. My body quivered and tensed as I slammed my hand over my mouth to muffle my cries. Fuck.
I have never done that before. Got off by thinking of a man alone. I’ve always needed one of my smutty books, porn or a toy. But that. That was one of the most intense orgasms I have ever given myself. I need a pat on the back; Gigi would be so proud. I sniggered as I felt all the tension leave my body and sighed in heavenly bliss. Maybe Gigi was right. I really did need to allow myself some pleasure. But Giovanni would not be the one giving it to me, unless he was in my filthy fantasies. Only there was I safe from him.
Meddling Mamma
