Page 35 of Consorting with Romance

Without warning, one of his hands slid from my chest and closed tightly around the base of my neck.

I clutched at it. “No. This is not something you can do here.” I said, almost in a panic.

He didn’t listen.

I’m not sure he even heard. His other hand came up to join it and they both tightened their grasp.

I grabbed frantically at his hands, trying to pull them away, strugglingto roll him off of me; to get out from under him, but he was larger than me, heavier than me and I wasn’t able to shift away. I gasped for breath and tried to scream at the same time, knowing it was useless in the soundproof room. The pressure around my throat increased. With one final effort I pressed my feet into the bed and launched myself toward the headboard, reaching for the emergency button on the side of the bed. My fingertips brushed it lightly, but I didn’t feel it depress as darkness closed in.

Jesse

I knew that Ash’s client Casey was one of his favorites, and I’d come to like him as well. He always showed up a few minutes early so that we didn’t have to rush through anything, made pleasant conversation with me instead of acting like I was nothing more than the help, and quietly read on the couch while he waited for his appointment.

As we sat together waiting for Ash’s previous appointment to wrap up, for a fraction of a moment, I wondered why Casey would ever have a phone notification that sounded like that. It was harsh and aggressive and loud enough that I’d jumped in my seat and dropped the notepad I’d been writing on. As my startled gaze landed on Casey, he looked confused as well.

For a fraction of a moment, I wondered if the city had some terrifying public loudspeaker system I hadn’t known about that was used in emergencies to warn the public about incoming tornadoes or warplanes or alien crafts. That somehow seemed even less likely than Casey enjoying the idea of seeing how many people he could get to shit their pants when his phone rang.

Ash.

When I’d been hired, he’d told me in passing that he had an emergency button in the bedroom. I’d never heard it, and I’d nearly forgotten that it existed.

I scrambled from behind the desk so quickly that my elbow knocked the screen onto the floor as I ran toward the French doors. I fumbled with the handle, and it took two tries before I managed to twist it and pull the doors open. Some part of me recognized that Casey had jumped up when I did, and that he stood pressed against my back by the time I remembered how doors worked and we barreled into the room.

Legs.

That’s all of Ash I could see. Strong, pale legs sprinkled with soft blond fuzz. The giant sat across his hips; the rest of Ash hidden behind his hulking form. Legs that I knew well. I’d felt them wrapped around my back more times than I could count. I’d traced every inch of them with my lips and tongue, watching as Ash trembled to pieces under my ministrations. They were still.

The world froze. My world was laying there, so still.

The giant moved quickly, scrambling off Ash and away from the bed. He ran toward me, seemingly intent on knocking me aside. Ash wasn’t moving. He wasn’t yelling, wasn’t crying, wasn’t chasing the giant as he ran in my direction.

No. No no no no no.

I didn’t care about the giant charging in my direction. Didn’t care if he made it past me, didn’t care if he got away. I didn’t care about anything but the man lying deathly still on the bed.

I ran. I ran toward Ash, my arm striking out as the giant approached. It connected, pain coiling up through my shoulder as I continued forward. I climbed onto the bed, reaching out to pull Ash’s shoulders into my lap, curling my body around him. He was dead weight, his eyes closed, his head falling limply back as I shifted his body toward mine.

“Ash.”

“Ash.”

“Baby, come on wake up.”

“You have to wake up now, ok? You have to open your eyes for me.”

I didn’t recognize my voice, deep and harsh and panicked.

I curled over him, wrapping my body around his. Protecting him. Holding him.

What would I do if he was taken from me? What would I do if he was gone? My love.

I rocked him in my arms, my forehead pressed tightly to his.

“Ash. Come on, sweetheart.”

“I’m here.”

I stroked his cheek, tucking his hair back behind his ear.

---