Sweet As Cherries

|Chapter 3 | Confessons

The buzzing of my alarm pulled me from my sleep as my hand fumbled about the bedside table, almost knocking my phone off as I slammed down on the brick-like black alarm clock. I really need to turn that crap off before I go to sleep again. Rolling onto my back, I stretched my arms out with a yawn slapping the stray strands of tangled hair from my face, quickly curling my fingers around my phone and checking my emails. 

Nothing new but a few of Cami’s notifications on her wedding page. 

“Why did I agree to go?” I groaned, feeling that cold pit at the bottom of my stomach grow larger the closer the time came to that goddamn gathering of a wedding. 

Switching over to Tumblr, I sat up in bed, letting my eyes scan down the dark blue dashboard until a new post caught my attention. ‘Everything in the world is about s*x except s*x. s*x is about power.’ Well, Mr Wilde couldn’t have said it any better. I couldn’t help but think about yesterday and the video that had to go and ruin the night. Sure it really was meant for work but . . . damn. I opened the internet browser and typed it in sucking in a breath when the video opened.

My eyes wouldn’t move from the screen; his hands were cuffed to each side of the bedpost, his legs the same as the girl stranded him moving slowly against him until one hand wrapped around his neck. His head arched back into the bed with the more pressure she applied, her other hand digging her nails into his chest until he cried out for more, begged her to f**k him until all he could see was black. 

Holy f**k! My thighs clenched a little, my breathing changing direction completely.

But it was the thought of the roles reversed, the giving and taking of power that had my fingers slipping down under the waistband of my knickers. I sucked on my bottom lip, that electric spark spreading down my legs as my eyes fluttered closed. The sheets tangled around my legs, my fingers moving quicker against my throbbing c**t, the phone limp on the side of the bed as their moans fill the silence until my own joined in. Arching my back against the mattress, I could feel my breathing haggard and hard as my stomach tightened, waves of pleasure exploding down my spine until I couldn’t take it anymore. 

The images of my wrists suspended by metal cuffs cutting into my skin, the pleasure and pain becoming one as I was bent over a desk with his hands clenched around my hair yanking as while marking my ass with red fingermarks . . .

“Wow. That’s new,” my eyes shot open, my hand and body jerking up and rolling off to the cold hard floor as Kael’s amused voice cut through the noise of the video still playing on the bed and my entirely constructed fantasy.

My heart bashed against my chest, my forehead aching with the pain from hitting the marble ground, hearing his chuckle from the doorway as I groaned out in pain. “Last time I remember you couldn’t get off lying on your back.”

This cannot be happening!

“What the hell?!” I cried, throwing my arms over the bed as I appeared from the floor. For a second I forgot about the video until the girl screamed her lungs out and I was staring at it with my eyes wide and my cheeks as purple as a beetroot, my heart stopping dead in my chest. I quickly scrambled onto the bed, my hands almost knocking the phone to the ground as I locked the screen, silencing the voices. 

“Let me guess, research? For your job, of course.”

“Get out! What are you even doing here?!” I cried,

“Do I answer or leave?” He asked, his eyes twitching into a faked sense of confusion before he held up his bag and laptop. “Computer repair remember? You weren’t supposed to be home. Also, who goes to sleep with their door unlocked?”

“Oh,” I breathed, the memory of last night slashing back at my mind. I didn’t think he’d be this early though! I tried fighting the rage of embarrassment from swallowing me whole, my face already burning like I’d doused it in gasoline and lit it ablaze. My eyes flew to the ground, unable to look back up at him. “I forgot to . . . l-lock the door. Go . . . do your thing.”

Please just go and let me die in peace! f**k me with a cucumber. How does this s**t still happen to me?! First, my dad when I was thirteen and now this . . . I can’t deal with life anymore.

I could feel his cocky ass grin from here, his voice low with amusement. “Yeah, sure. I’ll leave you . . . to do your own thing.”

Oh, Jesus. I actually can’t. 

My eyes snapped up to him just as he walked away, his chuckle filling the silent apartment as I threw myself back only to miss the bed and land hard against the ground with a cry. 

My life. 

I lay there, feeling the pain spread around the back of my head as I closed my eyes trying everything humanly possible to go back in time. Why me? 

After another few minutes of hopeless self-pity and shame, I forced myself up and ran to the shower, refusing to check on his progress. Honestly, I just hope he gets this s**t done and leaves without filling me in on anything. His voice was enough to make me want to break my fist against his face, but the shame that eats me up alive every time he was in the room? That was enough to make me drown me in a bottle of Jacks. 

I stepped under the hot water, my muscles relaxing against the stream pouring down on me. Breathe. So what, you got caught touching yourself? Just proves you’re pretty healthy in that department. You owe him nothing, who cares what he thinks? His opinions mean nothing. Absolutely nothing. You should walk around your apartment butt naked if you want too, you should feel yourself every God-darn day cause you are goddamn sickening! Screw what he likes, screw all his stupid image cringe-worthy crap. You’re you, and you fought way too hard to be brought down by him now. That’s in the past. 

My little confidence-boosting conversation came to an end pretty much the same time as the hot water did. Did it help? A little. One thing was for sure, I was a pretty good darn actor, and I knew how to fake it till you make it. Reaching for the black towel laid on the sink, I grabbed it and wrapped it around myself tucking the edge in as I stepped out, water dripping down my thighs. I really need to invest in longer towels; this s**t was more appropriate for your hair!

My hair lay went and limp on my shoulders, creating a puddle around my feet as I took a step to look in the mirror. Well, can’t imagine why my face looks like someone poured red paint-

“Computers did.”

“Jesus f*****g Christ!” I screamed, jumping and almost tripping as I gripped the sink next to me and the tub behind me, my legs almost splitting perfectly. 

“You really have a thing about not closing doors.”

“I didn’t think you were gonna-” I started before closing my eyes and taking a deep breath as I stood up and placed my hands on my hips, trying to steady my deathly heartbeat. Every nerve in my body was screaming, dying a little as his eyes stayed glued on me. Why was this happening?! “You know what? Thank you. I’ll get my wallet and then you can-”

“So when did this whole b**m phase start?” He asked, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards into that usual cocky ass grin. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the door frame, looking back at me. My arms went weak, falling limp by my side as my mouth hung open, and the colour drained from my face. “I just watched the video you were trying to last night and . . . that shits pretty heavy.”

“I-” my voice was a whisper, my chest as cold as an icicle as the heat diverted itself back to my cheeks. Talk Goddamnit!  “I t-told you; it’s for work.” I managed to breathe out. Which it was but . . . it’s not like I expected to get pulled into it either! Sure, back then it wasn’t my thing how I was supposed to know it might be now? Not to mention none of this was specifically focused on that it just happened to be the thing he caught me watching, it’s not like I’m going to stand here half-naked explaining my mid-life crisis to him. “I h-had to - why does this matter?”

“It doesn’t. Just curious. It’s not every day you go to work and see a chick getting off on-”

“Yep, nope! This is not happening.” I muttered cutting him off as I threw my arms in the air and shook my head. I cannot stand here and have this conversation, not if I want to die from cardiac arrest. And right now, I’m pretty sure I’ve hit the mark almost four times in the space of twenty-four hours. “You need to leave.”

I raced forwards, my hands pushing against his chest until he stumbled backwards into the hall laughing. 

“How much?” I asked, still pushing him back into the living. 

“You’ll get the bill in the mail.” He added, his hands suddenly wrapping around my wrists and pulling me to a stop. “Chill, I’ve got another customer anyway.” He let me go and walked towards his bags, picking them up and walking towards the door before he stopped to face me, one eyebrow raised and his lips curling into a mocking grin, “You know, you would have been a hell of a lot sexier if you were into this s**t back then.”

Are. You. f*****g. Serious?

I could feel my right eye twitch a little, my hands tightening into my fists as the blood ran cold through me. If I was embarrassed before, I sure as hell was fuming now! “Are you serious? Sexier? Coming from the guy who spent months ripping his ex-girlfriend's confidence to shreds! This is coming from the fucker who couldn’t tell that his girlfriend was faking every single f*****g orgasm!”

His face dropped, that smirk shattering to pieces as his eyes narrowed at me. “Bullshit.”

“Really? You seriously think any girl has eight orgasms in the space of what? Two minutes!” The colour drained from his face, and his arms dropped to his sides. “You sucked dude and not once did you clock.”

“Yeah, well maybe that was because you just lay there like a f*****g tranquillised horse!” Ouch. But if that’s how he wants to play, let's go.

“Ha. Funny coming from the guy who still busted every single time he f****d this tranquillised horse.”

“Barley.”

“Well, at least that makes one of us!” I yelled, opening the front door as he stormed out, his lips open, ready to scream back until I slammed the door closed in his face.

Fucking asshole!

What a great mood to be in for work! That f*****g son of a b***h. What a f*****g t**t. I thought, my eyes still narrowed in rage as I stormed to my bedroom and got ready for work. 

Can today get any worse?