Page 116 of Heart of Stone

Suddenly feeling ravenous, I speared a piece of omelet with my fork and blew on it for a minute to cool it down before taking a bite.

“Wow, this is no joke. You really do make a killer omelet,” I appreciated.

He merely nodded, seeming confident in his superb breakfast making skills, and dug into his own food. We sat there and ate in quiet for a while, both content to enjoy our start of the day meal. After a while, Alexander started perusing the front page of a newspaper that was on the table. The entire scene was very domestic and it made me uncomfortable. Rather than mention it, I continued to eat my food quietly, suddenly anxious to get the meal over with.

“Do you know that you talk in your sleep?” Alexander asked, looking up from his readings and breaking the silence of the kitchen.

I felt my face flush in embarrassment. I had been dreaming about Alexander while I slept.

“So I’ve been told by my mother and Frank. It used to drive Frank crazy because he’s a light sleeper. Hopefully, I didn’t say anything too crazy.”

“No. You just said that you shouldn’t do something or another. It wasn’t clear. You were kind of mumbling.”

“Hmm…I’m not sure what it was about. I rarely remember my dreams once I wake up,” I lied.

The truth was, I remembered the dream very clearly. I had dreamt about the wild images that I found on the internet, and Alexander doing many of those things to me. In my dream, I had been gagged and spread out, and tied down with black rope while Alexander reined a riding crop down on me. Even in sleep, I knew that I shouldn’t want it, but I did. I tried to leave, but I couldn’t. I wanted him to push me to see how much I could take. I had a vague recollection of waking up at some point during the night, wishing that Alexander would do those things to me in life.

The fact that I may have revealed myself while I slept was absolutely mortifying.

“You talk about your mother and stepfather a lot, but what about your real father?” Alexander asked.

I suppressed a sigh of relief at the opportunity to change topics, as I was finding last night’s self-discovery of my inner freak to be very disturbing.

“I don’t know him. The sperm donor left my mother when I was just a baby,” I said flippantly, using the term I had adapted whenever I referenced my biological father.

“That had to be tough on her. And you for that matter.”

“Honestly, I don’t really have an opinion about him one way or another, except when I think about my mom. That’s when I get a little mad. She struggled pretty bad trying to make ends meet. There were many nights when I woke up to hear her crying in the kitchen. I would come in, see the pile of bills… but I was young and I didn’t really understand.”

I felt a small lump begin to form in my throat as I thought back to all of those nights, my mom rocking me to sleep, telling me it would be okay. She said that her job was to worry about the grown up problems, and it was my job to be a kid.

“So when did your stepfather come into the picture?” Alexander asked, pulling me away from the memories of my youth.

“She met Frank when I was around eight or nine. They were married just after my tenth birthday. After that, my mom didn’t have to worry about money anymore. Frank takes care of everything,” I finished with a shrug of indifference. I didn’t elaborate further, as my own feelings on the subject were mixed. Frank was a good man, but I had often wondered if my mom married him out of necessity, or if she married for love.

“Hmm,” he mused with a frown. “That’s interesting. From everything you’ve said in the past, you seemed to be a lot like her. But now, I’m thinking you’re very much the opposite. You’re too independent.”

“Well, I try,” I said with a sardonic grin. I squirmed in my chair, and not because of my sore bum. I simply did not want to get into a discussion about the differences and similarities that I had to my mother. “Do you mind if I grab shower?”

“Help yourself,” he said, accepting my dismissal in stride. “Towels are in the linen closet.”

“Thanks.”

After clearing my plate, I got up from the table and made my way to the bathroom, eager to get away from our very unusual breakfast exchange.

This conversation is way to deep for this time of the morning.

Between the recollection of my dream and the chatter about my mom, I was ready to climb back into bed and hope for a do-over.

CHAPTER 32

I had been in Alexander’s bathroom before, but I never took notice of the details in the grand shower stall. Floor to ceiling tiles lined the walls, with an intricate mosaic overlay in the middle of one wall. There was a built in bench lining two of the walls as well, with various jets cleverly placed around the area. I reached for the nob to turn on the water, and was pleasantly surprised to see the waterfall stream that came down from the ceiling.

Once the water was to temp, I stepped back to strip out of Alexander’s T-shirt, looking forward to enjoying his luxurious shower. Just when I was about to get in, Alexander slithered up behind me. I jumped, having been caught off guard.

“Oh, you scared me! I didn’t hear you come in!”

“Mmm…” he murmured into my ear. “Watching you walk away in my t-shirt…I couldn’t resist. You have amazing legs. Do you know that?”

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