Desperate to Touch

As if reading my mind, Seth sits up straighter on the sofa, his erection evident against his suit pants. The fabric is tighter along his length, outlining it and he rubs it once before telling me, “You want to feel better and so do I.”

I do.

God, I desperately do.

His eyes darken, the fire flickering within them. “Your bra and then your underwear.”

I do as he says. The clasp easily parting and the sound of my bra hitting the floor is louder than it ought to be.

When I step out of my underwear, I’m a half step closer to him, but before I give in and let go, I make him promise me something. “Tell me you don’t just want to embarrass me and toy with me.”

I can’t explain why it means so much to me. But I need to believe it’s more than that for him.

“I want to toy with you, yes. But you were never embarrassed before. Humiliating you doesn’t get me off.” His gaze roams down my body, his lips parted as he exhales. “I want you to listen to me. That’s what it boils down to. I just want you to listen to me.”

He has to look away, back to his drink that’s empty when he tells me the last bit. He just wants me to listen. He stalks off, leaving me naked as he goes back to the kitchen, feeling miles away.

He thinks if I’d listened things would be different. The whispered explanation brings a new hurt and new guilt.

“Stop it. Stop thinking. Do what I tell you to.” Seth reappears without a glass in hand.

So many years have passed but I still want to please him. I wonder if that will ever change.

“What do you want?” I ask him as calmly as I can. I can still remember the first time I was conscious of that desire. I wanted to please him.

As I watch Seth push the coffee table toward the fireplace, I recall that night.

It was at the old bar, the one my father used to leave me at all the time growing up. And it was just after his funeral. Derrick called me “Babygirl.” Derrick did. I knew him to be a friend of Seth’s. I even liked him. He would look out for me. It was he who welcomed me into the bar to wait for Seth.

I wasn’t Derrick’s Babygirl and my reaction must’ve told him as much. “Oh,” he’d said with a smile. “You want that just for Seth, don’t you?” His question wasn’t teasing, only knowing. At that moment Seth walked in. Everything was chaotic back then, after Vito was killed. Seth’s father was in charge; he hadn’t been murdered yet in the war for that territory. Still, Seth was needed and commanded more than anyone else. It was like his father was grooming him.

Seth came in and needed a beer. Looking distracted, he kept heading to the bar but man after man stopped him. They needed him and he gave them the time they wanted. Those days, he still walked me to and from home at night. Just me, not letting anyone come with us. He made time for me. We hadn’t even kissed, but he liked to touch me when I was around him. He always held my hand, touched my back; he’d run his finger down the back of my neck absently when Derrick talked to him. He hadn’t done a damn thing sexual, but it felt like everything to me that he wanted me near enough to touch. He never made the first move though. Not that quickly after things changed, and not for months later.

I was no one when it came down to it, and he was going to be everything. I could feel it.

I would only be his Babygirl. With that thought in mind, I got a beer for him and put it in his hand as he talked. I wanted to please him, and I had. The way he looked at me, ignoring whoever had been speaking, did something inside of me.

I can feel the same stare now as Seth rounds me years later. He did exactly what I expected him to; he ruled, like the king he was meant to be.

Myself, on the other hand? I wasn’t even strong enough to be his Babygirl.

“Did you sleep last night?” Seth’s question brings my gaze to his, makes me focus on the present.

“Some,” I answer honestly. He doesn’t look in my eyes when he stands in front of me, because he’s focused on my chest. It’s not until his hot touch grips my right breast and my head falls back just slightly that his gaze reaches mine. With his thumb and forefinger, he rolls my nipple and I have to bite down on my bottom lip to keep from moaning out at the sharp pleasure.