Mr. Stranger
1506 Words
Soraya:
As soon as I walked out of the suite I shared with Tristan, the floodgates opened. I began to sob as I stumbled down the corridor, absolutely hating the day I ever decided to trust Tristan.
They were all the same. All of them!
When I thought I had finally found a man who never wanted my mother, it was me being plunged into a series of lies and deceit.
How? How could Tristan look at me with so much love in his eyes. How could he treat me like I was the only woman that mattered to him while he went behind my back to make love with my mother?!
I was disgusted. I wanted to puke out everything I'd ever eaten. He was f*****g me and my mother at the same time and somehow, he thought it was alright?
Somehow, my mother had roped him into this and didn't mind if he was sleeping with me?!
I stopped abruptly and crashed into the wall, sobbing heavily and not minding if people were passing. I didn't realise I had walked into the cruise's bar until someone cleared their throat.
I looked up to see a really tall man, probably in his late twenties or his early thirties, looking down at me with a glass of whiskey in his hand.
"Having a rough evening?" He asked, his voice smooth, silky and warm.
But I was too interested in the glass of whiskey in his hand. Through my teary eyes, I could see that it was all I wanted. I wanted to drown in alcohol and misery. Maybe I would get over such an abomination real quick.
And before I could think, I began to speak. "Can I have your whiskey, please?"
"Sure." He nodded and handed it over to me.
I gulped down its content at once, letting out a cough as my chest burned. More tears flooded my eyes.
"You shouldn't be drinking so much. It's Christmas day."
I ignored his statement and stared into his eyes. Damn, they were the bluest pair of eyes I'd ever seen. So mesmerising. "Have you got more?"
He glanced at the bar and shrugged. "I usually drink a customised one that's not from this bar. And it's in my suite. If you don't mind coming with me to have some more, then fine."
I shrugged. There was no part of me that wanted to think about following a stranger into his suite. What more did I have to lose? My dignity?
"Alright then. Let's go."
He c****d his head to the side. "You don't know who I am, do you?"
"I don't care." I rolled my eyes. "I need more whiskey."
He led me out of the bar, his hand on my arm to guide me, as I was already tipsy. Of course, I was a lightweight and today's shocking experience even made me more light headed. Tears streamed down my cheeks as we went, but I didn't let out a sob. My chest felt like it was being ripped apart, over and over again, but I didn't make a sound.
Finally, we got to his suite. I noticed the difference. It was far better than mine. Even bigger. It looked like it was built for people of the elite class.
"Here is one for you," He handed the glass to me and took a seat at the other end of the room, giving me all the space I needed.
I took another gulp, but it caught in my throat and I began coughing, scared I was going to choke to death.
A firm hand patted my back, then pulled my drink from my hand. I looked down to see the handsome stranger crouched before me.
"What's got you so worked up on Christmas day? You should be happy."
I scoffed. "A lot of people are on their deathbeds, saying goodbye to their family. Why should mine be any different?"
He raised a curious brow. "Are you dying?"
"That would have been much better than walking into my boyfriend f*****g my mother."
"What?!" He exclaimed, the disgust on his face evident. "Did you just say you walked into your mother having...sexual relations with your boyfriend?"
I nodded. "That's right."
"Uhm, sorry to ask, but is this some sort of prank? Or are you shooting an adult video?"
I glared hard at him and pushed him away, rising to my feet. "Are you f*****g serious?!"
He straightened and I was reminded of how tall he was. Hell, he was almost a foot taller than me. Was I that short?
"I'm sorry I said that, but things like this only happen in adult movies."
"Well, this isn't one of the movies you jerk off to!" I snapped at him. "Know what? It was a mistake even agreeing to follow you here."
Just as I turned to walk out of his suite, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me back.
"Hey, I am really sorry for saying that. It came out wrong and that was absolutely stupid for me."
I chuckled. "Oh, yes?"
He sighed. "Why don't you tell me more about it? I really think what they did was really disgusting. If it's true, that is."
He was still doubting me. I sighed and calmed down. I would have doubted if someone said the same thing to me.
"My mother is...a very beautiful woman to say the least," I chuckled. "And she enjoys the male attention so badly to the point where she tries to get with everyone who shows interest in me. I guess she's always on the winning side because they always end up wanting her because they believe she's more experienced than I am."
He grimaced. "That's bloody disgusting."
"And when I thought I'd found the one—" I couldn't stop the tears from following.
"You shouldn't cry over them. They're useless." He straightened and went to and light a cigarette.
I snapped my gaze at him. Usually, I would have told him to f**k off, but I needed someone to talk to. I needed a shoulder to cry on. I felt like a child that had been denied what was hers by her mother.
And I was drunk, so f**k it.
Rising to my feet, I stumbled towards him and stopped. "Tell me, what would you do if you walked into your boyfriend f*****g your mother?"
He took a deep gulp, obviously startled by my question. "That's never going to happen, and I am not gay. But if it did, I would never speak to her for the rest of my life."
"So easy for you to say."
He leaned back against his seat, piercing me with his gaze. "Now, what do you want to do?"
I shrugged. "I want revenge? I also need a distraction. I might die from trying to wrap my head around what happened today."
He leaned up slowly and rose to his feet, crushing the butt of his cigarette, his eyes never leaving mine.
"Do you want me to make you forget?" He asked. I nodded. "Do you want me to touch you?"
"You're hot," I chuckled tearfully. "One night of hot s*x wouldn't hurt."
"Are you sure?" He asked, brushing his finger against my lips. I found myself leaning into him, my eyes fluttering close as his breath- a combination of mint and cigarettes fanned my lips. "You're not going to regret this tomorrow? Because I intend on ravishing you tonight."
I nodded, my head in a haze.
Then he took a step back and raised his hand. "I wouldn't want to touch a drunk woman. I am also drunk, but this doesn't feel right."
"Please," I held onto him. "I don't want to think about anything. When I wake up tomorrow, I won't regret or hate you."
"Then write it down," He handed his phone to me. "Do it."
I took his phone and typed in the words, and as soon as I handed the phone over to him, he flung it over the room and lifted me in his arms like I weighed nothing.
He was strong. So strong it made me feel safe, and when he stared into my eyes, I felt like I was all that mattered to him. I didn't care about my broken heart, all I wanted was his lips on mine.
He carried me over to the bed, gently placing me on it and hovering above me as he slowly took off my clothes. "Good heavens, you're so beautiful. Why would anyone ever do that to you?"
I chuckled. "You should see my mother."
"Sorry, but I don't fancy old women."
I giggled at his statement and he leaned down and captured my lips in a flaming hot kiss.
Whatever went down tonight was a sinful indulgence I enjoyed to the fullest and guess what? It was also the first time I was ever made to orgasm.
Maybe walking into my mother and my boyfriend was a good thing, after all.
- Writer
