We’d only talked like this once before, stretched out in the cushioned lounger by the indoor pool in my house.
And that had been one of the loveliest moments I could recall. Not just because of the intense sex we’d shared but also because of my genuine desire to hear her story. Selene told me about herself and about her life in Detroit and her mother; the whole time, I could tell how enthusiastic she was because I’d finally allowed her to talk to me.
It was a tiny, unexceptional, insignificant gesture for me, but, for her, it had tremendous value.
Before meeting Selene, I was always hostile to conversation. I stayed remote and was reluctant to open up with others. With her, I had begun to discover a new way of communicating, and I was starting to think of it as normal, teasing her and laughing with her.
But I was still a disaster zone, and I hoped she’d be able to see that without too many warnings or explanations. Even if I had given her parts of myself that I’d never given—and, likely, would never give again—to anyone else before.
Abruptly, I sat forward and got out my pack of cigarettes. I lit one up and took a deep drag, like I hadn’t had a smoke in days, before exhaling through my nose. I was smoking too much during that time. My throat often got irritated, and I had a cough. But at least the nicotine calmed me down a little.
I turned suddenly somber and reflective, in the throws of a mood swing that I couldn’t control.
“Is… Is everything all right?” Selene stuttered, frowning next to me. I enjoyed Tinkerbell, my Tinkerbell, the one who had done everything she could to learn about me and understand me, but I couldn’t let myself give in to that body of hers and those eyes. Those eyes the color of the ocean that looked at me, in awe but also enraptured.
I couldn’t make the same mistakes again.
When she was lying in that hospital bed in a coma, I’d sworn to her that I’d be by her side, if not exactly in the way she wanted.
I said I would protect her like the shell protects its pearl.
Even if it came at the cost of my own life.
“No, nothing’s fucking all right.” I didn’t raise my voice, but the way I spoke was enough to make it obvious to her that I was agitated. Selene had always had an ability to understand me. Even though she looked at me the way everyone else did and was attracted to my looks, my presence, my face, and even my voice, she also appreciated my essence, my strengths, and my weaknesses. Even my twisted nature and deviant mind.
She wanted me, not just sex with me.
She wanted to use me to get at my soul, not my body.
And that… That scared me.
I wasn’t used to people taking that kind of interest in me.
I lifted the cigarette back to my lips and took a long drag before blowing the smoke out into the sharp salt air. Then I stubbed it out and put the long butt into my cigarette pack.
“Neil…” she murmured in concern.
I rubbed my hands together to get rid of some sand before turning to Selene and locking eyes with her lustfully. Her lips fell open, and her breathing was strained as she sensed my intentions.
I approached her immediately, not giving her any time to stop me, and I stuck one hand into her hair, a gesture of dominance meant to disarm her.
“Would you let me fuck you right now? Right here? Because that’s the only thing I want from you,” I lied.
In truth, I wanted to know about her dreams. I wanted to know her favorite music and ice cream flavors and what color she liked best. I wanted to watch her eyes open as she woke. Would they still be that brilliant ocean color in the dim light of dawn? And I wanted to know if she had any more awful pajama sets besides the ones with the tiger print. And how did she position her body as she slept? What did she look like then?
“Yes,” she said, and my mind came crashing back to reality.
I wanted that sense of peace, the same priceless peace that I felt when Ididn’t care at all about women. Instead, there I was with my mind working overtime trying to think of ways to get some distance from her.
Wait a minute… Did I hear right? Did she say yes?
She was certifiable. How could she not hate me after all the depraved things I’d done?
Instead, she was looking at me like I was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen, worthy of her worship and perhaps even…her love.
But no, I wasn’t going to think about that.
Even though I longed to kiss her, and I knew from experience that I could make her succumb to her own desires, I decided to get myself under control.
