“Okay,” he answered. He put an arm around me and rested his palm on my shoulder. But he did it stiffly.
“Thank you for saving me.”
“You’re welcome,” he answered and gave a little squeeze and kissed my forehead. His body loosened then and his other arm came around me and it didn’t feel stiff or awkward any longer. It felt like that was just where I belonged. I fell into a deep and peaceful sleep.
Dare
This was not cool. Not cool at all. I didn’t know how to handle this shit. One part of me thought I should start being a dick to her so she’d get over her hero worship. But after what I could only imagine she’d been through I’d be a heartless prick to do that. But I didn’t wanna encourage this. Not a bit.
Why? Because it’d be so easy, so fucking easy to take what she was offering. She was beautiful. She was ten times more beautiful than the red haired girl from grade eleven science class, the one that I let get away in favor of the wild child Debbie was. And the talk about the insatiable sexual appetite? My Pop’s twisted notions about me having a girl trained to be perfect, being what I wanted spoke volumes, especially with a few things I’d found out about him at Kruna. I shook my head in disgust. But the things she was offering? I was saying No but my cock was fucking pleading with me.
Felicia was asleep, curled up to me, her head on my chest, her leg draped over my thigh. She squirmed, jolting me out of my thoughts, and then she was squirming, no gyrating, right against me. The hand that had been flat on my abs was now under my t-shirt, in a fist over my heart. She opened the fist slowly and her nails skated across a nipple as she flexed her hand and the sensation went straight to my cock. Her nightgown had ridden up and she wasn’t wearing panties. Her naked pussy was against my thigh and she squirmed against me. I clenched my teeth but my cock was rock hard. Her hand emerged from the neck hole of my t-shirt and her fingers wove into my hair.
I could whip my clothes off and fuck her brains out. She’d give it to me gladly. She’d been begging me for it. She’d spre
ad wide and let me do her any which way I wanted. She’d be game to any position, any sexual act. She’d let me suspend her from the ceiling, she’d let me fuck her up the ass, she’d let me do anything I wanted.
She’d give me babies, as many as I asked for. She’d be gorgeous on my arm at any family or business event. She’d make herself fit into my life. I wouldn’t have to do the work. I wouldn’t have to go through the task of finding her, figuring out whether or not she was a psycho crazy bitch, figure out whether or not she sucked in bed, figure out whether or not we were compatible. Wouldn’t have to fall for her and then lay awake at night wondering whether or not she’d be faithful to me.
She’d been professionally trained to be the ultimate lay, to be compatible with her Master. She wouldn’t nag, she wouldn’t whine, she’d take any scrap I gave her. I could treat her like a princess and lavish her with everything her heart desired. I could use her and abuse her if I wanted to, not that I would, but if I did stupid shit or acted like a dick I’d never have to worry she’d leave me for it. I could just take her. She was mine. Here she was, in my bed, curled against me, willing to be mine. Wanting to wear a collar that was akin to wearing a wedding ring but even more permanent. She’d probably be missing the spark I wanted in a woman but I couldn’t expect everything now, could I? She’d never shred my heart. She’d never ask for more than I wanted to give.
Almost no one would fault me. Outside of the people at Kruna the only ones who knew were Stan, Tommy, and Zack.
Stan, I didn’t give a shit about his opinion. He got paid to have no opinion.
Zack, I knew he’d look down his nose at me for it and yeah, he’d probably fault me.
But Tommy? Yeah, he’d tell me it was a bad idea. But he’d be a fucking hypocrite because Pop gave him a girl who didn’t even want him and yet he kept her. He got to keep his girl even if she was ill-gotten, given to him out of Pop’s fucked up brand of revenge. Why shouldn’t I keep Felicia?
Tommy’d give me a look and say it was a bad idea and I’d cock an eyebrow at him and then he’d fucking zip it because he’d know he has no room to judge me.
But here I was, determined I was not doing it. I was better than that. But was I?
I pried her off me without waking her and stormed out of the room, smoked two cigarettes, drank three shots of vodka, and then I went and slept like shit on the shitty fuckin’ futon so I could close the door and shut out the world.
Felicia
I woke up alone. I went looking for him and found the door shut to his spare room so guessed he was in there. My heart sank. The sun hadn’t yet risen but I wasn’t sleepy any longer so I padded into the master bathroom and did my business and took a shower and then because my clothes were in the room he was sleeping in and I didn’t wanna wake him I went into his closet and snatched back the flannel pjs I’d worn for just a few hours yesterday.
After a minute checking out some of his other clothes, he had a lot of great suits, I went out to the kitchen and after far too long pondering the notion I finally decided I was capable of making coffee without getting permission first. Then, again after a long pondering, I decided it would probably be okay if I turned the TV on. It was odd making decisions for myself, even small ones. What to wear, what to watch, what to drink. These things don’t seem so insignificant when you haven’t been able to make those choices for yourself. These things were huge. And Dario Ferrano gave these things to me.
As I was finishing my second cup, watching the news, he came out of the other room and I heard the master bedroom door close as he went in there.
I fingered my collar and closed my eyes, feeling bad about last night and my meltdown. He must’ve thought I was bat shit crazy. If they had seen me behave that way, they’d have … they’d have… I shuddered. I needed to pull myself together.
I heard him. I opened my eyes. He was looking at me while pouring a cup of coffee. I painted my face blank and straightened up my posture and said, “Good morning.”
“Hey,” he eyed me cautiously.
He was in chocolate brown suit pants and was carrying a blazer. The pants were slim fitting, he wore a black shirt, black tie. His hair was wet from the shower and he was freshly shaven. As he walked by and I thought about how delicious he looked I caught a whiff and he smelled good, too.
He tossed his blazer on a stool and then reached into a kitchen drawer and pulled out a memo pad and a pen and then started scrawling on it. I stared at his hands, his wrists. He had strong-looking hands. Not rough-looking like someone who works in manual labor, of course, but strong-looking. The knuckles on his right hand were a little bruised from when he’d punched the hole in the bathroom in Thailand. Looking at his hands took me back to watching him work with his hands transforming a mound of wet sand and making it look like a castle. I saw, in my mind, those hands on my breasts. I swallowed hard. His voice jolted me out of those fantasies.
“I need to work at my office today. Got a shitload to do. Here’s my cell number. And there’s a backup number here for emergencies if you can’t reach me. If you call that number it’s Nino, he works for me. He doesn’t know anything about you. I’ll tell him you’re a houseguest in case you need him for anything. He’s a six and a half foot bearded bald biker with a lot of tatts so you’ll know who to expect if you do happen to need him. Otherwise do not answer the door. The alarm’ll be armed, the building doesn’t get solicitors, and there’s no reason anyone should knock on that door. If there’s an emergency where you need out, like a fire, I’m writing down the emergency code to push to get out. This is the fire code only; you don’t press it otherwise because it’ll dispatch authorities as if you’re an intruder. You unlock the door without pushing this code it’ll ring as an intruder alarm and won’t let you out unless the place is on fire or has a C02 alarm so don’t do that. Once we have things sorted and you can come and go freely I will program you your own access, which we can do with your fingerprint.” He made a face and took a deep breath and shook his head, like he’d just realized something, then he continued, “If my landline rings check the call display. Only answer if it’s me or comes up on the call display with my name or the name Nino.”
“Okay.” I said. Then his words come and go freely echoed in my brain.
“You realize how serious I am about you not being able to phone anyone yet, right?” His brows were up and his vibe was pissed off badass personified.