I wake the next morning utterly exhausted. It took me forever to get back to sleep after Bruce stormed into my room last night. The fear and excitement of his standing naked over me made it impossible to relax. I replayed what happened over and over in my head. The angry look on his face while he stroked himself and stared at my pussy is burned into my brain. I can still smell his cum on me, even now. I refused to wipe it off after he left my room. I just lay there, letting it spread out across my skin, hypnotized by the sight of it. I ran my fingers through it, feeling its warmth. I couldn't stop myself from trying it. I wasn't sure what I expected it to taste like. A lot of the girls at school complained about swallowing, but when my finger touched my lips and the salty taste hit my taste buds, I had no idea what they were talking about. I wanted more, but next time I wanted Bruce to give it to me from the source.
I thought an orgasm would help my pounding heart but it only made it worse. I rubbed more of his cum on my fingers and used it as lube to wet my clit. The orgasm came fast, but excitement still pounded through my veins. It wasn't until the first rays of morning light started to shine through the window that I finally passed out.
I look over, see the pillow next to me, and I can't help but smile. What other things could I do to make him snap like that? And how far could I push him until I got him to touch me? Maybe next time he'll make me take his cock in my mouth. I won't know what I'm doing, but I'm sure he'll guide me. Last night was like a little victory.
Hearing something outside my door, I jump from my bed, slide on my bunny-shaped house slippers, and run to the door. I stop myself before I open it, because I don't want to seem too excited. "Play it cool, Sophie," I tell myself before opening the door and peeking out. I hear noises in the kitchen and it makes me giddy. I debate taking my top off, but I don't think I have the courage for that yet.
Creeping down the hall, I see Bruce. His back is to me and I see that he's dressed only in pajama bottoms that hang low on his waist. It's quite clear the man works out. I can see all the muscles flex in his back as he reaches for a coffee cup in the upper cabinet. I don't think I've seen a shirtless man outside of a computer screen or TV.
Before I realize what I'm doing I'm standing right behind him. I can tell from his tense muscles that he knows I'm here. I swear I feel him lean back a little. He told me last night that I shouldn't mess with a man, that I should try finding a boy, but I don't want a boy. Or anyone else. I just want him. He makes me feel things I've never felt before.
I want more of the things he makes me feel, but right this second I'll settle for a taste. I lick my lips in anticipation, and rise up on my tip toes, leaning in to kiss him between his shoulder blades. When my lips touch his skin, I let my tongue slip out, getting a small taste of him.
"Stop."
He says the word, but there's no fight in it, nor does he try to pull away from me.
I lick a slow trail down the center of his back, wishing it was his chest. Then maybe I could have a taste of his cock, like I dreamed about last night. That's the taste I really want. I remember his strokes last night were firm and long, and I wonder what he would feel like in my hand.
I can feel my nipples harden at the idea, my sex growing wetter. I want this.
Reaching around, I go to make a grab for him, but he quickly turns, lifts me by my waist, and places me on the kitchen counter like I weigh nothing.
"I told you to stop, Sophie," he says, removing his hands and leaning into me. He has me caged by his body, yet not a single part of him is touching me. I can feel all of him around me as he surrounds me with his heat. His hands are braced on the counter on either side of me, and he's only a breath away from making contact.
"What if I don't want to stop?" I whisper, scared that if I make the slightest move or say the wrong thing he might back away. He might have me caged, but it won't stop me from poking the beast. He leans in closer, and I swear he's going to kiss me. I close my eyes in anticipation for what will be my first kiss, but when I feel his breath on my neck, I open them again.
I hear him inhale, like he's breathing me in. Or maybe he's smelling me.
"I didn't wash you off," I say, reminding him of what he did last night. "That's you that you're smelling on me."
"Fuck!" he growls, pushing away from me. "Why are you doing this? I tell you to stop and you won't. You won't even put clothes on." His words sound pained and make me pause. Maybe I've read this all wrong. Last night he seemed like he wanted this, even though he was fighting it. Oh God, here I am again, chasing after someone to be loved and they are clearly pushing me away. Just like everyone else in my life. When would someone chase me? Maybe you aren't worth fighting to have.
"I'm sorry." The words slip past my lips, filled with embarrassment. I can feel my face heat with shame. I know nothing about men beyond what I read in books—romance novels filled with happy-ever-afters and men who would fight for their women. Bruce was fighting to keep me away. Take a clue, Sophie.
"Don't be sorry, just knock it off," he says, and looks pointedly at me. "Your mother was my wife."
"Not really," I remind him. For some reason, I need him to remember that fact, that he and my mother weren't really together. That this isn't as bad as it seems.
"You're right, but on some level I was her friend, and you're my reasonability for the next week. You're mine." His last two words come out in a different tone.
"Yours?" I question.
"You know what I mean, Sophie. Don't twist my words."
I let my eyes drop to the floor, not wanting to look at him anymore. I need to keep my mouth shut. Everything he says I want to turn in my favor. Maybe I am twisting his words and hearing what I want.
"Sophie, look at me."
It takes everything in me to pull my eyes back to him. I can still feel the heat on my face from the embarrassment. That makes this much worse, knowing my fair skin is showing it to him.
"You're young and beautiful; you don't want someone like me. Go find yourself a nice young boy who can give you flowers and hearts. I have nothing to give you. My life is my job, and nothing will ever come before it. I worked too hard for it to throw it away on a scandal that would ruin everything." His jaw clenches likes he's pissed he had to say the words.
But the reality of what he's saying hits me harder than it should. At least he's honest. His job will always come first. My mother always filled me with false promises. It's like cold water being thrown on me. I can feel the lump in my throat grow, and I know if I speak it'll all break loose. It would be an uncontrollable flood of tears, and I don't want him to see them. Without responding, I jump down from the countertop, making a quick dash to leave the kitchen. I feel him reach out for me, but I brush past him, barely missing his grasp, and stumble into Lily.
Shit. Just wonderful. More people to see my embarrassment. I wonder how much she heard, and not wanting to find out, I push past her too, leaving both of them in the kitchen. I hear Bruce call my name, but Lily's soft words seem to stop him from coming after me.
Slamming the door, I make sure to lock it behind me. God, I feel so stupid. Why am I always pushing myself on people who don't want me? It's like I make things up in my head and don't see things for what they really are, dreaming up these futures that are so far from possible. Back at school, the girls and even a few teachers always said I lived in my head, my nose in a book. Maybe they were right. But is it so wrong to dream of big love? In reality, I've never had a taste of it.
Flipping on my laptop, I bring up rental properties and start searching through them. It's time to move on. I can't keep chasing after things that are just running from me. I also don't have to be like them. Lily's right. I can start a new life, be different from my mother.
I print off a couple listings and take a shower. I get dressed in another sundress, this one light purple. I make quick work in the bathroom, deciding to leave my hair down today. When I'm ready, I go to my bedroom door and pray I don't run into Bruce. I grab my purse and the list of properties and try to make a fast retreat from the condo, only to slam right into Lily.
"Sorry, Lily. Seems I can't stop falling all over you today," I mumble as I continue past her. I don't know how much she heard this morning, but I really don't want to relive it. She follows me into the entryway where I hit the elevator button. Damn, I should have explored this place better and found out where the stairs are. I would love to avoid this conversation I know Lily is about to make me have.
Suddenly, she snatches the papers out of my hand.
"What the hell?" I snap, trying to grab them from her. She shuffles through them before folding them and putting them under her arm. "Are you going to give those back?"
"No, you don't need them."
Her response is tart but clearly final. I remember the tone from when I was a child and she would watch me from time to time between nannies showing up.
"I don't know how much you heard, but it's clear he doesn't want me here. It's also clear that he's only keeping me here because he feels he obliged because of my mother. I was an unwanted burden on her, and I won't be an unwanted burden on someone else."
The elevator dings, answering my silent prayers. I reach my hand out, indicating for her to give me my papers back, but she makes no move to. Whatever. I'll get new ones somewhere.
"Keep them," I say, stepping into the elevator, but she follows behind me.
"Lily, I don't want to be rude, but I don't want to talk about this, and I want to be alone right now."
"He hates his job," she says, ignoring what I said to her. "He's different with you. Bruce Archer is losing control. I saw him pick you up and sit you on the counter. I couldn't see your face but I saw his. Didn't you see it?"
No, I didn't. I closed my eyes and waited for him to kiss me, but I don't say that out loud.
"He was right. I should find someone else. I want someone I'll come first with. It was silly and naïve of me to think he'd want me. Hell, I saw the woman he was with the night I got here."
"I've never seen him with a woman. You must—"
I cut her off. "It doesn't matter."
"I have to do everything around her, don't I?" she huffs.
I have no idea what she's talking about.
"Just don't sign a lease or anything like that. Wait until the lawyer closes your mother's estate. Just wait four days."
I don't respond to her because I'm not sure what she's talking about.
The elevator stops on the third floor, and a boy about my age steps on. He nods at Lily before running his eyes over me. He's cute, but I don't feel the same spark I felt the first time I met Bruce. He's tall, but everyone is taller than me. His light blond hair is a little shaggy, but it gives him a softer feel. Soft is nice. Maybe soft is what I should be looking for. His hazel eyes spark with amusement as he catches me looking him over.
"You must be new," he says.
"She's staying with Mr. Archer, Bryan. She's new and doesn't know anyone. You should show her around today."
I feel my cheeks warm at Lily's words.
A boyish smile spreads across Bryan's face. "I'd love to…"
"Sophie," I say, giving him my name.
"Sophie." He rolls my name off his tongue, but it doesn't give me the thrill like when Bruce does it. "Like I was saying, I'd love to show you around. I was just going to grab something to eat. Join me?"
"Okay," I say. When the elevator dings, Bryan grabs my hand, pulling me out. Glancing over, I can't help but see the knowing smirk on Lily's face.