Molten gold stretches over the surface, and it looks like it’s alive. Red streaks turn upward from the jawline curling around the cheekbones in jagged, flame-like tendrils. The eyes are edged with black that make them look like smoldering sockets.
I turn back to the place I was sitting and see the couple still sitting there, my mind drifting to Catarina. I wonder what she would look like in mesh anything? Better yet, what does she look like underneath it all? I think back to having her pressed against the wall, her warm tongue tickling my palm. Pressure begins to build against my zipper just as my thoughts are interrupted, remembering what took place the night I left. I shouldn’t have enjoyed any of it, and while I was sorry for it, I still can’t deny it.
When the slap landed and she flinched, I held my breath. I wanted to see her cry for me, but not out of hurt or humiliation. I wanted to see her come undone in front of me, but only in front of me. Her green eyes held back the tears until they couldn’t. When she blinked, they trickled down her pretty little cheeks causing something to stir in my twisted mind. I wanted her to cry for me. There are plenty of other ways to make her feel pain and pleasure, though. Ways that don’t include a public display.
The shame settles in. I haven’t felt close to someone like that in so long. Her pain mirrored my own and, in that moment, when Catarina was at her lowest and hurting, I couldn’t help but feel like I could reach her.
“What’ll it be?” Rylan’s voice startles me.
“Club soda?” I answer, though it comes out more like a question than a statement.
“Sure.” He nods, turning to the counter behind him. A moment later, he’s back, sliding a glass toward me. Bubbles rise and pop in the clear liquid, fizzing softly. Truth is, I have no idea what the fuck a club soda actually is. I just spotted it on the menu and blurted it out. “Starting a tab?” he asks.
“No, I’ve got cash.”
I’m not sure if his voice is muffled from the mask or if the music is making it this hard to hear him. “Okay, it’ll be seven fifty.”
I pull a ten dollar bill from my wallet and raise my voice to a borderline yell. “No change.” He gives me a simple nod of his head before turning to help someone sitting beside me.
What the hell am I supposed to take from this? What’s their angle with him, and what exactly do they expect me to report back? He seems to be a regular guy. Maybe with a job that’s a little outside the lines, or maybe it’s not. How would I know? He keeps to himself and doesn’t stand out. He has friends, or at least a friend, and possibly a girlfriend?
I know he lives alone, although I did overhear him mentioning someone to the other security guard while I stood in line. Charlotte, I think. She sounded like his boss. But also a lover—could she be both?
There’s nothing that paints him as anything more than what he seems to be. He’s free. Free to live life on his own terms, to move through the world without invisible chains dragging behind him. He’s ordinary in a way I’ll never be, and I envy that.
I take a sip of my drink, and my face scrunches up when the bitterness hits my tongue. The sudden sip of TV static has me deciding it’s time for me to head back to the hotel. Tomorrow, I go home, and while I should be focused on my father and theconversation I know will be waiting for me the second I get back, he’s not my priority. She is.
I don’t know what I’ll say to her even though I’ve spent the past few days trying to figure it out. I hated leaving her behind, but I at least made sure she wouldn’t be alone. Melinda promised to keep an eye on her, which is the best I could do from a distance. I can’t stop thinking about her or wondering if this was his plan all along. Introduce us right before sending me away. But was it in his plan to make her defy him? Could he have planned that? I wouldn’t think so, but I’ve learned not to underestimate him.
She’s mine to protect, regardless of if she forgives me. I did what I had to, and yes, I’m basically a stranger to her, one that embarrassed her. Hit her. But I don’t plan on us staying strangers for long. Plus, I’m the only one who can keep her safe. Whether she likes that or not isn’t my problem.
I’ll try to give her time and my patience, but these feelings I have when I think about her? No one and nothing, not even her own resistance, will be enough to put it out.
Chapter Ten
Zedediah
When voices in the hallway wake me, I roll over to check the time. I got in a little bit later than I’d hoped after dropping the rental car off and catching a Lyft back to my hotel, but I was okay with it, thinking I’d be able to sleep in an hour or so. I run my hand over my face and let out a groan. This was the last time I didn’t have to wake up at the ass crack of dawn, but the sound tells me the group in the hall are probably drunk and just now getting in. I rub the sleep out of the corner of my eyes as I throw the blankets off and drag my feet out of bed before heading to the bathroom to shower.
I grab the soap and hotel provided loofa, working up a lather. The water trails down my body, the steam covers the glass door, but it’s the thought of her, and my hard dick, that’s suffocating me.
Catarina.
Her name rolls through my mind. Every syllable curls into the corners of my thoughts and there’s no escaping it, not that I’d want to. My hand drifts down, stopping when I brush against the hardness between my legs. This throbbing is all her doing.
Wrapping my fingers around myself, I give my dick a tight squeeze as the soap lathers across my sensitive skin, leaving it slick. I release my grip and trail my hand to my balls, cupping them before applying the same pressure, my other hand braces myself against the shower door. The steam in the air thickens, and I can no longer see through the glass.
I let go of my balls and curl my hand around myself, starting off with slow, firm strokes.
My strokes quicken, the soap allowing my hand to glide along my shaft. I imagine it’s her hand. Her soft fingers wrapped around me, her mouth close to my ear, whispering filthy things.“This is mine,” she whispers in my ear, the steam from the shower feeling as if her warm breath is trailing up my earlobe. “All mine.”
The fantasy takes over, and I can feel her lips trailing down my stomach, her nails dragging down with them, leaving faint red marks in their wake.
I pin her against the wall, just like this, her body is pressed hard against mine, trapping her between the cool glass and the heat from the shower.
I grunt out,“You’ve been waiting for this. Haven’t you?”I think about wrapping my hands around her throat, cutting off her access to the stifled air around us. My hips buck forward, my hand working faster now as I chase the edge of my orgasm.
My words sound strangled when they leave my mouth.
