Page 15 of Crawl
Cash clears his throat and I stuff the bobby pins in my purse. I’ll have to resume picking the lock later. I move toward his office with dread in each step. It’s like walking to the executioner’s block, where one day, he’ll have my head. Recessed lighting illuminates the office from the corners. Though the downstairs office is decorated like an old, rich person’s library, the upstairs office is modern. White walls with large pure black canvases. Curved, black furniture. Yet the windows have newspaper plastered over them, just like in his bedroom. Why does he insist on keeping some windows open, and others completely cut off?
His eyes hold me, wrapping around me like a chain. And though I hate the way he looks at me as if he’s starving and I’m a bloody steak, that same hunger simmers in my lower belly, his words echoing in my head:I get to play with you however I want, whenever I want.
“Your hair is different,” he says.
I roll my eyes, but inside, I’m surprised that he actually has his head out of his ass long enough to notice someone else. It’s the missing bobby pins; I always have them in. And hell, I hope he’s offended that I’m in an oversized t-shirt and leggings. You want business professional? Act like a damn professional.
“It’s called bedhead,” I say. “What can I do for you tonight, Mr. Winstone?” I expect him to sneer, but his face stays blank, and somehow, that scares me more than any other reaction. It’s like he knows what I’m going to say before I say it, and he already has a punishment planned. Nerves getting to me, I correct myself: “Cash. What can I do for you on this very late night,Cash?”
He gestures to the side of his desk, his calloused hands bigger than I remember. They can take my entire neck in one palm.
“Stand there. Eyes forward. Chest out.” He taps his watch. “I’m waiting, Remedy.”
I suck in a breath, then position myself, pushing down that fluttering sensation in my pussy. The sooner we get this over with, the better. His piney cologne is stronger now, like he sprayed it right before I arrived. Dark circles surround each of his pupils, those freckles on the whites of his eyes like blots of paint. He looks wired like he’s been up for three days straight, and though he ignores me and continues to type, I can feel his tension, the way his eyes shift like he’s barely scanning toward me, to make sure I’m where I’m supposed to be. His fingers click on the keyboard and he switches between the different open windows on his monitor. He stays focused on his work like I’m another piece of furniture, nothing more. An object.Damn it.Why do I like this so much?
I grit my teeth, biting my inner lip. Just because I’m giving in now, doesn’t mean that this is over. If he thinks I’m hisobedientfuck doll, he’ll let his guard down.
Then, I’ll strike.
“Hands behind your back,” he says. “Chin up.”
Tension seizes my stomach. I scowl but move my hands behind my back, sneaking a sideways glance at him as I keep my chindown,to emphasize the fact that I’m lookingdownon him. A spreadsheet is open on his wide monitor, but I can’t read what it says. His hands travel down to his lap, and he strokes his length through his pants, his cock growing and pressing hard against his trousers.
Holy hell. It’s as thick as a baseball bat, and he doesn’t even look full yet.
But he’s ignoring my defiance. My nostrils flare and I drop my hands to my sides, testing his boundaries even further. Is this part of being his fuck doll?
It’s hard to remember what my goal is when nothing feels real and it’s so late. As much as I deny it, Iwanthim to punish me. I hate him so much, but somehow, I know screwing him will be even better like that.
Suddenly he lurches forward, grabbing my arms and moving me closer to him, and my stomach prickles with pins and needles. Then he fixes me: my chin up, my hands behind my back. He even pushes between my shoulder blades until my tits are out. Everything inside of me tingles, knowing that hewantsme positioned like this. He relaxes back into his state of ambivalence. Eyes on his computer. Fingers on the keyboard. His cock still thick and heavy on his leg.
Ten minutes pass like this. I lean to the side, drowsiness getting to me. One of his hands roams my chest absently, while his other hand stays fixed on the keyboard. His touch is gentle, reminding me of furry handcuffs, and I cringe.
Are you sure you want this?my ex-boyfriend had said. He held the fur-lined handcuffs like they were the devil himself, and the belt was limp in his other hand, like a poor dead snake.
We’re just having fun,I said, trying to convince him.I trust you.
Yeah, but this isn’t—my ex stopped, unable to find the words, his posture sagging even lower.I don’t want to hurt you, Remedy.
I’m asking you for it,I said.I’m consenting.
He stroked my cheek, the touch tickling my skin, goosebumps erupting, reminding me of my stepdad even more.
It’s not normal to want something like this,my ex said.This has to do with your stepdad, doesn’t it? You don’t need this, Remedy. You need help.
I blinked back the tears. No matter how many times I explained that my stepdad was gentle with me, my ex couldn’t believe that I wanted cruelty. Those soft touches are what I hate most. Whether or not I want it, my body reacts and I can’t enjoy it, because I always think of my stepdad. I need pleasure to be ripped from my soul like it doesn’t belong to me anymore.
Instead, when my ex was like this, I floated inside of my head, like a buoy off the coast.
Just like now, with Cash.
Cash’s words echo around me. A question. Or is it a demand? His fingertips skim my stomach, then go under my shirt for my bra.
My ex-boyfriend was always sweet to me, and in theory, I wanted that. That’s what a survivor should want. But when goosebumps rippled over my flesh at his every touch, I couldn’t hold back anymore. I had to force him to understand me.
I slapped my ex. A red handprint formed on his cheek. His jaw dropped, completely stunned, but there was sympathy in his eyes. No—it wasn’t sympathy; it was pity. Like I was an injured bird he needed to rescue.
Let me love you,he said.Please, Remedy.
