So many days by myself. So much loneliness, wanting anyone or anything to come and save me. But they never came.
Until now.
“Oh baby, you feel so good,” he says, bringing me back.
“I’m going to come again,” I say, barely able to even speak. It’s too good. It’s too much.
“I don’t know how you do this to me,” he whispers.
“Come in me.”
And then he cries out, a kind of strangled, primal scream, and his thrusts are so powerful that my entire body shudders from the force of it.
But it’s incredible, as the orgasm hits me, the peak of the pleasure and sadness coalesce and I cry out, tears spilling unbidden down my cheeks.
Afterwards, he holds me close, picks me up and brings me to the bed.
I’m sobbing, and he doesn’t ask why.
I wouldn’t be able to explain it anyhow, and I think he must know that.
Gently, he lays me in the bed and then crawls beneath the covers with me, wrapping his strong arms around me and cradling me.
I snuggle into him, enveloped in his warmth, his strength, and now I feel a new sensation once again.
I feel cared for, loved even, in a way that I know I’ve been searching for my entire life.
Until this very moment, I didn’t know what it meant to have someone truly attend to me, without there being something in it for them.
He strokes my hair, kisses my forehead, and my tears slowly dry.
My breathing slows. I am soothed.
I close my eyes, hear his steady heart beating in his chest, and I smile.
I love you, I think before I can stop myself.
My eyes fly open.
Shit.
I can’t believe that phrase crossed my mind. Especially after the way Dermot has treated me today. What the hell is wrong with me?
Okay, so the sex was incredible, but I need to get my head on straight. This is certainly not love. In the next ten minutes, he very well may kick me out of his home for good.
I move away slightly and Dermot seems instantly to know something is wrong.
“What is it?” he says.
I can’t look at him. I can’t start to love him. I can’t be falling for him.
“Nothing,” I say feigning a casualness I don’t feel at the moment.
“Haisley,” he says, stroking my back. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“This was nice,” I tell him.
“But?”
“But…that’s all.” I feel myself starting to harden, to try and protect myself against the sudden rush of emotions I’ve been experiencing. I can’t allow Dermot to see that I’m having feelings for him. Dermot is poking around, wanting to know my thoughts, and nothing good can come of that.
He grabs for me again, but I gently pull away. I can’t be vulnerable. I’m too afraid of being hurt. I cannot trust this man.
“Haisley,” he says.
“What?”
“Look at me.”
I try to look at him, but the moment our eyes meet, I have to turn away. I feel raw, exposed, and Dermot’s unnerving stare is impossible for me to face right now.
He sighs, loud and exasperated.
“It’s fine,” I tell him.
“It’s obviously not fine.” And now his tone becomes harsh. “It’s about the money.”
“Of course, you would jump to that conclusion,” I respond.
“Because it’s true.”
“You have no idea what’s true.”
“If you want my money, just say it.”
I already did say it, I think, but keep my mouth shut. This is a trap, and anyway, the reason I was feeling vulnerable and pulled away from him had nothing to do with money.
“You want me to be this money hungry gold-digger,” I tell him. “And you’re looking for excuses to justify your preconceived ideas.”
“Maybe it has something to do with you putting yourself up for sale online.”
I grimace, and rage starts to build inside my chest at his callous words. “Wow. You bought me. What does that say about you?”
“Nothing good, I’m sure.”
“Well, I’m not like you,” I tell him.
“It’s always about money,” he replies confidently.
“You don’t know what I’m thinking.”
“I know people.”
“You know assholes.”
“What did you say?” he asks, sounding indignant.
“Everyone you know is an asshole.”
The moment I say it, I know I’m being ridiculous. But I’m furious at his accusations and the way he keeps turning on me, assuming the worst about me.
And then I hear him laughing.
“You have a point,” he says. “Everyone I know is pretty much an asshole.”
I’m smiling a little despite myself. And then we’re laughing together. It feels incredible, to go from being so hurt and wounded to just sharing a happy moment, and suddenly all my fear evaporates. We’re laughing harder and harder, until my sides hurt. Tears run down my cheeks, but they’re tears of laughter now, and even Dermot is cracking up.
I can’t believe what I’m seeing, he’s like a different person.
He’s relaxed, open, not so hard and cruel.
“Ah, fuck, you made me laugh harder than I’ve laughed in a while,” he says, after a little bit, his chuckles fading away. He pulls me back into his arms and kisses my forehead.
“Listen,” I tell him, turning into him and finally looking at him again. “I’m not this horrible user that you think I am. I got myself into a bad situation. I was desperate. That’s all.”
His smile fades. “I don’t like thinking of you being threatened. But if I try and fix this…”
“I’m not asking you to fix anything. I’m sure I can buy myself some time.”
“If I do it,” he continues, “how can I trust you won’t betray me?”
“I don’t even know what that would mean,” I tell him. “How could I betray you?”
His brow furrows. “I’m not exactly sure. I just know that trusting people has proven to be a mistake every time I’ve done it in the past.”
“Then don’t worry about it,” I say. And I mean it. Yes, I need to pay the rest of the money I owe, but I am sure they will wait a few extra days. I’ve shown that I’m good for it.
Dermot continues stroking my hair softly. He sighs deeply. “Okay,” he says, finally.
“Okay?”
“I’m going to do it.” He gets out of bed, abruptly, and grabs his phone. Standing there, naked, strong, his muscles flexing in one arm as he scrolls through his cell. He looks like a Greek God come to life.
“Dermot, you don’t have to…”
“I need to do it directly to your account. I can’t go through the website, because technically we haven’t finished our contract yet.”
I feel my emotions getting the best of me again, only this time, it’s gratitude that I feel. “But, that will screw everything up, won’t it?”
Dermot shrugs. “If this is what you need…” he lets the rest go unsaid.
I grab my phone and go to my banking app so I can tell him my routing information.