Page 172 of I Shouldn't Feel This Way

He had thrown down a beautiful red Persian rug, right underneath the coffee table. Long oval-shaped lamps were stationed in every corner of the room, adding a warm glow to the space at night.

His kitchen was just as impressive—all stainless steel appliances and a large marble-topped island in the middle. The only thing his place lacked was a woman’s touch. It was evident in the way he had designed his home that he had very masculine taste. His loft was every bachelor’s dream.

Evan finished showering and dressed himself in a pair of black CK boxer briefs and acid-washed jeans that hung low at his waist. He decided not to wear a shirt, not until the last minute, before heading out on his nightly hunt for loose women. He was an attractive man with a muscular frame, broad shoulders, and a very mesmerizing face that you wouldn’t forget upon meeting. Evan took care of his body, and if Noah were to stand next to him, one would assume they were brothers, since they appeared so similar.

Evan had the looks, the charm, and the winning personality that made most women fall in love with him. But unfortunately, he had broken many hearts in his dating years. These days, he kept it simple: one-night stands. No strings attached, no expectations, and no emotional involvement. That was the way he preferred it. And although many of his lady friends did try hard to change his ways and convince him to commit, they were always fighting a losing battle. Friendships were terminated as a result on bad terms. Evan never felt bad, though, because he always warned them from the get go. He was emotionally unavailable, and that hadn’t happened without a reason.

Binx scurried over and brushed past his leg, watching his human companion enter the kitchen to fix a turkey sandwich. Evan started thinking about the conversation he’d had with Aria at the mall. She was so smart for her age, and incredibly beautiful. He was extremely fond of her and thought she looked more like her mother than like Noah.

He took a bite out of his sandwich, placed it back down on the plate, and walked to the window to watch the sunset in the horizon. Darkness would soon blanket the sky, welcoming the midnight hour when all the promiscuous men and women of LA would come out and play. It was all about the thrill of the hunt. Evan thoroughly enjoyed the chase and was good at it.

He finished eating his sandwich and washed his plate in the sink. Afterwards, he opened the fridge and grabbed a cold beer. A subtle smile spread across the corner of his mouth when a particular memory formed in his mind. He ambled over to the home theater system he had set up around his mounted television. The TV was an impressive sixty-five inches. Evan turned on some music and swiftly shuffled through the tracks. He stopped when he found the tune he was looking for: “Gone”by Nearly.The song held a special meaning for him, and he listened to it before every nightly outing. He set it on repeat and cranked the volume up all the way until the sound waves were vibrating through the walls, just how he liked it.

The music started out with a rhythmic synthesized bass line, followed by a slow and hypnotic drum beat. There was a dark undertone in the song, as if the Devil was in the music. The vocalist soon began to sing her evocative lyrics.

Binx let out a quiet little meow and crouched down on his hind legs, hiding underneath the dining table. Evan took a swig of his beer and wandered into his bedroom. The space was modernly furnished and had a monochromatic color scheme. There was a king-sized bed in the middle. What stood out the most was the collection of erotic photography that hung on the wall, right above his black leather headboard. They were printed on canvases and were the main focal point upon entry. The pictures were black and white, and most consisted of a man taking a woman from behind, in the missionary position, in lotus position, and other erotic poses. There were many other pictures of female models tied up and lying naked in bed. The only similarity among these enticing women was that they all had long, dark flowing hair that reached past their breasts. All of them had blue eyes, due to the way they were Photoshopped. The intensity of their eye colors varied, and some of them had very penetrating stares, while others looked more demure and soft. The men’s faces were not visible, but a hard-built body seemed to be a crucial component of the photographs’ eroticism.

There was one huge picture of a nude model bending over on all fours on a bed. White sheets were tangled beneath her as she tilted her head back, parting her full, sensuous mouth. This gave the viewer the impression that she was releasing a pleasurable moan from her lips. A naked male model had positioned himself behind her, visible only from the neck down. He was pulling her hair back and sliding his other hand up the curve of her spine. The location of entry of their consummated coupling was undetermined, left up to the imagination of the observer. The young woman looked provocatively sexy, wearing nothing but a string of diamonds around her neck, accentuating her attractive collarbones. She had a heart-shaped bottom, and was the only model wearing jewelry in the pictures. That particular photo was the only picture above his headboard that Evan had blown up on the largest canvas.

The songstress continued her enchanting melodies as he sat at his desk and connected his cellphone to his laptop. He needed to upload some pictures from the construction site and get them printed. Evan let all the pictures upload, then clicked the Print command. His printer came to life and began to do its job while he walked toward a black bookshelf near the corner of his room. He drank his beer and carefully removed four books from the middle shelf. A security keypad was visible now. He took another sip of his beer and punched in a six digit code: 040695. There was a little click, and then the bookshelf slowly opened, revealing a secret room. Evan pushed the shelves all the way and walked through the threshold, standing in the darkness.

The song continued to echo in his ears as he reached up and pulled on a string. The room was suddenly illuminated in faint yellow light, but it still wasn’t enough to light up the entire space. He walked around and yanked on four other strings. Hanging light bulbs began to sway from side to side from the ceiling while Evan took a step back and smiled at the wall. There were no windows in this room. It was empty except for a small leather armchair right in the center of the floor.

He retraced his steps and approached his laptop. All the pictures had successfully printed. After shuffling through the photos, he managed to find the ones he wanted, grabbed some double-sided tape, and returned to the secret room.

Evan taped the pictures to the wall, one by one, until there were no more photographs in his hands. Then he slowly stepped back and stared at the colorful collage he had created throughout the last few months. He felt proud and extremely pleased with himself. His project was not as complete as his previous one in his last place of residence, but it was a work in progress. When he had moved in, he had to reprint some older photos to replicate the other master piece. Although it was not identical, it satisfied him.

Each photo displayed a beautiful young woman who had dark brown hair, blue eyes, a gorgeous smile, and a stunning, slender body. Every shot of her was taken from a safe distance. It was almost as if someone had been spying on her and she wasn’t aware of it.

Aria Hunter’s face was plastered all over the walls of that room like a holy deity being worshiped in a shrine. The front wall was covered in pictures of her walking to school, hanging out with her friends at the mall, laughing, smiling, crying, dancing, and being her usual self. Her every emotion and expression was captured on camera. Each picture appeared to tell a story, depending on her appearance and location. Evan’s obsession seemed to start on the left, spreading across the center and adjoining wall. There were pictures of sixteen year old Aria having dinner with her family at a restaurant in New York, photographs of Aria walking alone through Central Park, photos of her feeding the ducks and eating ice cream, Aria wearing a short blue sundress, Aria wearing a fall jacket, Aria wearing a winter coat, Aria blowing on a dandelion in a park, Aria at Laguna Beach, Aria in a bikini, Aria trying on clothing at the mall …Aria everywhere.

Thousands of photos were taped on the walls like a mosaic. Evan smiled as he gently stroked his fingers across her face. The recent additions were the ones he’d taken of his niece at the mall. Edging closer to one photograph, he closed his eyes and placed a tender kiss on her lips.

“I’d been waiting so long to meet you, Aria.” He gazed into her eyes as if she were standing there, looking back at him. “Now you know I exist.”

Evan had left a section in the center of the wall empty: that particular spot was reserved for more “special” pictures. He’d always wanted to acquire snapshots of her staring into the camera and smiling, and he had finally achieved that, after months of photographing her in the shadows.

“You smiled for me,” he said aloud, feeling as though he had successfully accomplished a very difficult challenge that no one else would have been able to achieve. An overwhelming sense of pride washed over him. She looked so free-spirited and blindingly beautiful when she laughed. He felt lucky to have caught it on camera, up close and in person. Evan truly believed that he was talking to the blue-eyed beauty in real time. He had even deluded himself into believing that she could really hear him.

Kissing her photo again, he backed away and sat in the maroon-colored armchair. It had a little wear and tear on the sides, but it was comfortable. After placing his beer on the floor, he relaxed his body and closed his eyes. Aria’s face and attractive figure appeared before him as he listened to the music and began to fantasize.

Something was stiffening in his pants. He breathed out and remembered the way her supple breasts had pressed together, showing off the sexiest cleavage in that plunging neckline of her floral print dress. Evan had nearly slipped up during their lunch meeting. There were no black olives in Aria’s salad because he already knew she hated them, so he’d asked the server to leave them out. He’d ordered the exact same sandwich because he knew it was her favorite. That was no coincidence. And he’d stolen her bottled water to drink out of it because it was the closest thing to tasting her lips. He couldn’t help himself. Evan was obsessed with her.

He ran his hand down his chest, nice and slow, imagining Aria’s hand caressing him there. His fingers lightly brushed his tanned skin all the way down his chiseled abs before stopping at his trousers. He unzipped his fly and pulled out his throbbing shaft. Thinking about her always got him hard and ready. He was aching to be stroked.

Evan opened his eyes and stared at all the photos of Aria displayed in front of him. This only stimulated him more. He rested his elbows on the armchair, feeling his base lubricate with semen that slowly drizzled down his shaft. He didn’t even need to stroke himself. His breathing grew harsh and labored as his eyelids became heavy, finally closing shut. He tried to remember every detail—the way Aria smelled when she sat next to him, the way she crossed one leg over the other, exposing her naked thigh. The delicious smell of her strawberry vanilla-scented hair drove him wild as he began to throb more violently down below.

Aria’s pleasant laughter filled his ears, which only stimulated his desire even more. He wanted to dominate her body, tie her up and take complete control of her day and night. He needed to be inside of her, penetrating her until she was flooded with him. And he wouldn’t stop there. No, he wanted so much more than that. Evan wanted to claim her and violate her mouth until she would gag and choke from his forceful thrusting. It was all he’d been able to think about ever since he saw her for the very first time.

“Fu-fff-fuck … Aria!”He breathed out, feeling his body begin to convulse as he opened his eyes and stared at her beguiling beauty. He was so close to finding his release, groaning in pleasure and surrendering to the music that was aiding his sexual fantasy. It carried him away to a place that only existed in his mind. The muscles in his arms tensed up as his fingers dug into the armchair, still refusing to touch himself. He was determined to explode in pleasure, hands free.

Evan imagined tying her up as his own personal sex doll. He would make it a routine to come into the bedroom, spread her legs, and violate her whenever he wanted. And then he would leave when he was done, only to return and repeat. By the time he’d let her stand, all his thick white fluid would be dripping down her thighs. He believed he could make her addicted to sex, addicted tohim.This was his fantasy. This washissickness.

“Fuck! Fuck!”

The sexual images were just what he needed to send him over the edge. A huge load of sticky white stuff spurted out of his shaft, spraying all over his chest and abdomen. It flowed out in waves while he groaned in pleasure and relaxed his elbows over the arms of the chair. His chest heaved up and down, leaving him breathless.

Evan tried to recover from that mind-blowing session of “phantom pleasure.” His manhood had finally gone limp, settling into the refractory period.

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