He grabbed ahold of my arms and pulled me onto his lap. He smiled as he kissed my lips. His erection was underneath me, grinding against my ass as I sat firmly on his lap. His hand found the edge of my shirt and it traveled up until he cupped my breast. Our kiss was passionate and I didn’t want it to stop. He had me in a trance, but I couldn’t lose sight of what I was doing.
“Rory, you have me so hard. I’m almost positive this is the hardest I’ve ever been,” he whispered. “I need to feel your pu**y. I want to feel how wet you are.”
He moved his hand slowly from my breast to the front of my pants. His hand began its journey down south and, as he reached the lace of my panties, I grabbed his hand and broke our kiss.
“This is where I stop you, because I’m not a woman who’s only good for a f**k. I’m more than that and I’m not one of your cheap whores who gives in to your every demand. I won’t be used, and this is one vagina you’ll never have!” I yelled as I got up and began to walk away. But I wasn’t finished. I stopped, turned, and looked at him one last time. “For the record, I hate blueberry muffins,” I said as I ran into the house and up to my room.
I went into the bathroom and locked the door. As I started the bath water, I poured some bubbles under the stream of water. I was shaking. I needed to calm down, but I couldn’t. My heart was racing as I undressed and stepped into the bathtub. The water was warm and the scent of jasmine and lavender filled the air. Tears quickly filled my eyes and then fell down my face. I was startled by a light knock on the door. I didn’t respond when Ian called my name. There was a moment of silence and then he started talking.
“My mother left me and my father when I was eight years old. She left me, her only child, for a man who lived in New York. I’ll never forget that day. It was a Friday, and she kept me home from school. She said we were going to have a fun day together and it was just going to be her and me.”
I stepped out of the bathtub and wrapped the towel around me. I walked over to the door and gently placed my hand on it as I sank to the floor and listened to Ian’s story.
“She took me to the carnival that I’d been asking to go to and she went on every ride with me, even though she hated them. We went to the park, had lunch, and then we went for ice cream. She took a lot of pictures that day and, when I asked her why she was taking so many, she wiped a tear from her eye and said because it was such a special day with just the two of us that she always wanted to remember it. When we got home, she had her suitcase sitting in the foyer. I asked her if she was going on a trip. She knelt down in front of me and hugged me tight. She told me that she was going on a trip and, when the time was right, she’d come back to get me and I could go with her. But, she never came back. I waited for years for my mother to walk back through the door and she never did. Maybe even at thirty-three years old, I’m still waiting.”
My heart broke listening to him. I could hear the sadness and anguish in his voice. How could a mother just leave her child like that? As much as I hated him at the moment, he needed me, and I wanted to hold him. I wanted to comfort him like he did me. I got up from the floor and opened the door. I looked around the room and he was gone. I quickly got dressed and walked downstairs, looking throughout the house for him. He wasn’t anywhere to be found. I stepped outside on the patio and looked towards the beach, thinking maybe he’d be there, by the water. He wasn’t. I went back upstairs, grabbed my phone, and sat on the edge of the bed.
“Ian, where are you?”
I waited ten minutes and he didn’t respond. So I sent him another text message.
“Please, Ian, come back so we can talk. I’m sorry.”
I climbed into bed and held my phone to my chest. I waited for a response that never came, and Ian didn’t come home.
Chapter 9
My eyes flew open and I was drenched in sweat from the nightmare again. The sun was just starting to rise and little specks of light began to filter through the window. I picked up my phone, which sat on the pillow next to me, and looked at it with the hopes that there was a message from Ian. There wasn’t. After I climbed out of bed, I opened the door and walked down the hall to Ian’s bedroom. My heart was racing with nervousness, as I didn’t know what I’d find on the other side of the door. I put my hand on the knob and turned it; carefully and slowly, I opened the door. The room was dark with dark gray walls and carpet. In the middle, sat an overly large bed with a black comforter draped across it. I walked further into the room and took a closer look at the bed. Attached to the headboard were chains with wrist cuffs attached to them. I ran my hand across the black comforter and down to where the ankle cuffs were attached to the end of the bed. What the f**k? My eyes diverted over to the wall, where a black wrought-iron shelf hung with several hooks. Sitting on those hooks were blindfolds, whips, paddles, and handcuffs. Half-burnt candles sat upon the two nightstands. I walked over and opened one of the drawers, only to find matches, several bottles of lubricant, and a variety of vibrators. I opened the next drawer and it was filled with different types of condoms. This room was probably his sex room. I was repulsed by it, but turned on at the same time. I quickly left the room and walked downstairs to the kitchen, where Charles was making a pot of coffee.
“Good morning, Miss Rory. How was your evening and dinner with Ian?”
“Just lovely,” I said with a fake smile. “Have you seen Ian this morning?”
“No, I haven’t. He’s usually up and running by now. Maybe he slept in today.”
“Yeah, maybe,” I said as I poured a cup of coffee.
“Will you be eating breakfast, Miss Rory?”
“No, Charles, not today, and please just call me Rory.”
I took my coffee and went upstairs to find Ian’s bedroom. I looked at the closed door, which was straight ahead from the stairs. The room next to mine. I walked over to it and with the same carefulness. I slowly opened it, peeking my head inside to see if Ian was sleeping. The king-sized bed was fully made and it didn’t look like it had been slept in. His bedroom was enormous and the wall where his bed sat was nothing but windows from floor to ceiling. The view of the ocean was the most beautiful view I’d ever seen. His room was made up of neutrals, a mixture of pale gray walls with white molding and darker gray accents. I looked at the time on his clock and realized that I needed to get ready for work. As I walked back to my bedroom, I sent Adalynn a text message.