I like how I look like I have no care in the world about the fact that he has been the one forcing his claim on me with every chance he has had. I am attempting to keep my bones from turning to gelatin, as if this illicit part of me he evokes with his brutality is a part I want to explore with him. As if I didn’t want to bolt in the opposite direction.
I exhale, and take the last of the stairs that will lead me to my undoing.
This better work.
I have no idea what this is and how this will be played out, but it has to work according to plan. And I plan to get him to at least maintain the side of him I enjoyed spending time with today at the tennis court. The same part that made me dinner and didn't mind engaging in small talk earlier like it was a date and we were getting to know each other. If I can have that part of him through this process then it will be bearable for me.
I puff out a shallow breath, and even though I know I'll somehow not be needing the robe after a while, I still tighten its knots and hold it firmly. Another puff of shallow breaths and I walk through the door.
The light in his quarter is warm, like always. It takes a minute for my eyes to adjust from the vivid light on the staircase to his dimly lit room.
His back is to me, and his thumbs are in the band of his black boxer briefs, about to pull them down. And even in the poor light, I can make out a tattoo on his waistline. It's like scribbling. It traces from his spine, and then across his waistline in an upside-down T.
I might loathe him. I might want nothing more than to stay miles away from him. But what I cannot deny is that he feels fallen. How he looks, walks, and talks… He feels like a fallen angel to me. And right now, I'm transfixed as I watch his boxer briefs dance around the curve of his upper butt with his thumbs dragging it down some more.
He stops trying to undress, which cues me to the fact that he knows he has company, and with that weak chuckle from him, I know he knows that the company is me.
He veers in my direction and cocks his eyebrow, with his upper lip curling.
I keep our eyes cinched as I reach for the knot of my nightwear, not knowing what to do with myself now that I have his attention. I didn't think this would be the first thing to do when coming here but right now, it feels like the best thing to do.
He cocks his head as I undo the knot and the rope falls to my sides, allowing the robe to come apart and show him that I am naked underneath.
“What are you doing?” he growls.
“What does it look like?” I take one step forward.
“Rosaline, turn around and go back to your room,” he grunts and shuts his eyes.
“I'm not going anywhere,” I let out the long-held breath.
“Why?” He opens his eyes.
“Because I don't want to,” I keep telling myself that I’m lying. That I want to go everywhere but here.
His eyes drop from my face to the curves of my breasts, tracing down to my belly button, and dip to the fleshy shaven mound of my core. He swallows, his Adam's apple flexing and his chest heaving as he drags a sharp intake of air into his lungs and exhales with a scoff.
“Rosaline,” He keeps his eyes on the mound of flesh, and does that thing I see him do when he looks at me. He bites his lower lip so hard I'm sure he will be having a cut.
I don't stretch it. I can't move to him and that's because I'm now too shaken to do so. Any step further will give me away.
“What is this?” He sucks his lower lip and brings his eyes up to meet mine.
“What do you think?” my hands go to the opening of the robe and I push them further apart, in a way that leaves the rim just a tip away from exposing my nipples.
He chuckles, “You don't want this,” he lets go of his boxer briefs, and although I told myself that I didn't want to look, I do. The band is hanging low on his hips in a way that shows some of his meaty length.
I can’t breathe for a second.
He is a big man. And seeing it, I'm beginning to rethink my entire plan. I am worrying about my female anatomy now.
I blink repeatedly and tear my eyes away when I feel that uncanny ignition in my stomach again. It has no place here, it's not welcome right now. It will mix things up. I don't want this or him. I'm not supposed to want this or want it with him.
“Come,” he smiles at me, the warm side of him coming out to play even though I had thought seeing me like this would only trigger the forceful side of him.
I pout, chewing my upper lip, and take slightly trembling steps to him. His arms open and I walk into them, not stopping until my head rests on his chest and I can feel his bulge press against my bare stomach.
“What are you doing?” He sniffs my hair and wraps his arms around me, “Why are you doing this to me?”