Lex (Unconventional Hearts) (11 page)

BOOK: Lex (Unconventional Hearts)
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Walking into my office, I pass Daniel, and
today, he doesn’t offer up his sexual services. It’s a good thing,
because after this morning I’m not in the mood. Dropping my purse
in my desk I toss my shoes roughly under my desk and plop down in
my chair, that rolls back a few inches, and I scoot myself forward
using the tips of my French pedicured toes.

Turning on my computer, a knock sounds at my
door and without thinking I yell, “Come in.”

The door swings inward and in walks the
prettiest woman I know, my mom, and in her arms is a giant bouquet
of white Calla Lilies.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Sorry to intrude, darling, but these had to
be delivered, and I figured it would give me a chance to see my
daughter. You’d that think since we live two houses down from one
another we’d see each other more often. Apparently not, since we’re
both so busy.” Her light airy voice explains, setting the massive
bouquet arranged in a crystal vase on the corner of my desk. I
haven’t been keeping any of the flowers. I’ve been giving them away
to employees every time another bouquet ends up here at work. And
the ones at home I did keep until they started to wilt.

“It’s okay, Mom.” I stand and she walks
around my desk, wrapping me in a giant, mama bear hug. I really
love my mom. She is the most amazing woman.

Stuffing my face in her hair, I inhale her
scent. She always smells like flowers and that is something I
always find so comforting about her.

“Can’t stay.” She chimes, kissing my cheek
and releasing me. She waves me goodbye and out she goes. I hear her
exchange a few friendly words with Daniel on her way out.

Removing the card from the flowers, I already
know who they’re from.

Ms. Keagan,

I really wish you’d reconsider my offer for
dinner. I will be in town next week and would love to see you.

Love,

Your Donnie.

Yuck, yuck, yuck. Not if you were the last
man on the planet. No flippin’ way!

I toss the card in the trash and take a seat.
It’s time to write the Suit Master back.

Opening up my email, my heart skips as I
center my eyes in on another email from him. Why does my body
deceive my mind? I’m not supposed to get this caught up in someone.
Gee whiz. My traitorous body has me all excited. I shouldn’t be
excited. I should be levelheaded. I’ve always been levelheaded.
It’s one of my best qualities.

 

From: SuitMaster6979

To: Lotionlady319

Wednesday 2:35 a.m.

Pretty Lotion Lady,

I know it’s extremely early in the morning,
but I couldn’t sleep. So, I thought I’d email you instead. I hope
that’s alright. I was actually hoping when I got on you would have
emailed me back already. Are you playing hard to get? Because,
Angel, if you are, I will play as hard and long as you want. I’m
not going anywhere. And no, that’s not a sexual innuendo, unless
you want it to be. –wink, wink.

I couldn’t sleep because I was worried about
that family you told me about. I’m anxious that they don’t have any
legal help. I can’t believe Laura didn’t contact me sooner.

I know I told you I wanted to tell you a lot
about myself. Well, here goes. I’m divorced. Only once, eight
months ago it was finalized. My ex-wife is one of those hoity toity
stuck up women who grew up from privilege. I met her in college. I
was a nobody when I was younger, so we didn’t quite fit. My dad is
a businessman, but we were never fed with a silver spoon. His
mistress and my mom consumed most of his earnings, leaving little
for us children.

Don’t feel sorry for me.

I don’t know if I’m bearing my soul to you
because I feel a connection, or because I’m tired and my laptop
screen is partially blurry as I am typing this. But, I’ll continue
telling you a little more about myself. Before I try to go back to
sleep.

Just so you know I don’t drink often, maybe
once a week. I don’t have many bad habits. And I don’t smoke
cigarettes. I did for a lot of years, but I quit when I turned
thirty, for family reasons.

I hope as you read this you will email me
back. I look forward to hearing from you.

Yours - Suit Master

P.S. “A man is already half in love with a
woman who listens to him.”

 

Yes, it’s official; he is
not
the man
for me. He is basically telling me he likes me as much as I do him.
And he was raised similarly to me. I’m not writing him back. Okay,
yes I will. Then I’m done, no more. He’s either A. Going to end up
stalker material or B. I’ll end up hurt. I’m guessing both might be
the case with this man. I know I like him. But sometimes cutting
your ties before getting hurt can be the best for both parties. In
this case, it rings true and clear. And I find it very hard believe
he could be this wonderful.

Time to make it short and sweet.

 

From: Lotionlady319

To: Suitmaster6979

Dear Sir, Suit Master,

I am sorry to hear about your past, and
thank you for being so nice about taking the case with Laura and
The Women’s and Children’s Shelter. I know it’ll mean a lot to
them.

As much as I value your emails and find your
correspondents refreshing, I feel it’s time to break our ties. I
wish you the best of luck in online dating. Thank you for being
honest and opening up to me. Rest assured it’s not your past that
deterred me. I don’t have time to date, and I realized it’s not
smart of me to continue this.

Best Wishes - Lex

P.S. “Moving on is simple. It’s what we
leave behind that’s hard.”

 

Send

Oh my God! I signed it my name! Son of a
bitch! Oh well…

I shrug.

I guess if he really wanted to find out, he
could have asked Laura. No big deal.

Why does it hurt that I said goodbye? It was
for the best. My heart seriously needs to catch up to my brain. My
brain is always right. My heart is a dummy. I know this, because
she was the one who told me to allow Brian, the man I loved, to tie
me up and use candle wax on me. That scenario opened up a whole can
of scary eel like worms. What a stupid girl I was.

Turning my focus back to my desk, another
email pops up on my online dating account.

Dang it!

 

From: SuitMaster6979

To: Lotionlady319

Wednesday 9:10 a.m.

 

No! You do
not
get to say goodbye. That is not acceptable.

It’s not over, The Suit Master

 

Wow, he’s a lot more forward than I thought.
That’s hot! Wait…no it’s not.

 

From: Lotionlady319

To: SuitMaster6979

Yes, it is. You like me too much, and I’m
stupid to admit I feel the same. We don’t even know each other, and
you don’t know a damn thing about me. That I know for sure.

Goodbye, Lex

 

Figured I already signed it with my name
once. Can’t hurt.

 

From: SuitMaster6979

To: Lotionlady319

Wednesday 9:16 a.m.

 

Yes, of course I like you. You’re beautiful,
smart, funny, and I know a lot more about you than you know. I’m
not telling you what, so don’t ask.

We will date, Suit Master

 

Oh my God! He is infuriating. He knows more
about me? Like what? Arg! It doesn’t matter. My mind is made up.
I’m done. This will be my last message. The end. Then I have to do
some actual work.

 

From: Lotionlady319

To: SuitMaster6979

Fine, I won’t ask what you know. It doesn’t
matter. I’ve made up my mind. This will be the last email you ever
receive from me. I wish you the best of luck. I don’t want to hurt
your feelings. I feel this is best.

Bye - Lex

 

There that is the final email. Sounds good
and nice. I’m not being mean.

 

From: SuitMaster6979

To: Lotionlady319

Wednesday 9:21 a.m.

That might be your last email to me,
beautiful, but I will not give up. I’m a lawyer for a reason, and I
fight for the things I want. Remember that.

You
will
be
mine – Your Suit Master

 

You will be mine - Your Suit Master?
Shit, oh shit, oh shit! What if he’s a Dom!? I didn’t even think he
meant
Master
in that form. When you think
Suit
Master
. You think of a man who looks hot in suits.
Fuckity-fuck-fuck-fuck. I might have just tormented a Dom. Brian
was a Dom. Or a wannabe Dom. Please God if you are listening.
Please, please, please. Don’t say I just pissed off a Dom.

I remember the first time I pissed Brian off.
We had already started our little sex experimenting. Or that’s what
I called it. He took it way beyond that. It all drastically
spiraled downhill from there.

At the time, we lived in the country
together, outside of Heartfair in his two story run down paint
flaking farmhouse. You know the kind that you see in horror movies?
With the rickety shutters, peeling paint, dilapidated front porch,
and huge single pane windows with thick drapes hanging in them.
Brian’s house was almost identical to that, except the interior
didn’t match the outside. It was okay on this inside. Sure, it
smelled musty from the basement’s cracked foundation that leaked
water when it rained, and it had carpet; thirty years past its
prime. It was livable and clean, for the most part. I wasn’t
allowed to have anyone over to visit, so it didn’t really matter
how clean it was. And I was forced to live with him and be his sex
slave. No joke. I didn’t speak to my mom or Roni directly for
months. Emails were exchanged but I was never the one emailing
them. It was Brian.

The first time I angered him I hadn’t
prepared our dinner properly. I added too much milk to the macaroni
and cheese. Chucking the glass bowl across the floor full of
noodles, smashing it to smithereens, he stalked towards me and
grabbed me by the back of my hair, dragging me outside the rickety
backdoor, down the broken steps, and into the barn. That’s where he
tied me to the rafters with yellow braided rope, in the freezing
November cold and cut my clothes off with a sharp bowie knife. I
was shivering so badly within seconds that my teeth we painfully
chattering.

I remember it all, like it was yesterday.

“Why do you want to fix me bad food, you
stupid bitch.” He smacked me hard across the face, and I spit a
mouthful of blood onto the busted concrete barn floor.

“If you do that again, I will make you lick
it up.” He seethed, his tall lean body, stalking me with long
powerful strides, around and around, as if I was his prey. He was
wearing a pair of light washed dirty work jeans with holes in the
knees, a black cotton V-neck long sleeved shirt, and his heavily
worn work boots. I had been locked in the basement the entire day,
in my makeshift daytime bedroom, and once he came home from work, I
had an hour to prepare a meal, which was never much. I never
learned to cook as a child.

“You need to stop cooking shit food, Lex.” He
snarled spitting on my naked goose bump covered stomach.

Knowing from dealing with my father in my
past, I knew I couldn’t speak up. That just gets you into more
trouble.

Grabbing my face, he forcefully squeezed my
cheeks to pucker my lips and kissed them hard enough they bruised
the next day.

“If you weren’t so fucking hot, I’d have Sue
Ellen over here so I could fuck her pussy. I’m really tired of
fucking your ass. It’s boring.” His voice suggested he was severely
uninterested. I’d wished he would get bored of me. He never did,
though. I was his sexy prize.

“So what kind of sex game do you want to play
today, baby?”

I didn’t respond.

“How about we play the game, ‘let’s see how
long it takes for Lex to scream’. I know you’re a tough woman,
baby. That’s why I love the games we play.”

That’s when he slid his knifes cold blade
along the right side of my back, where my ribs end. I knew it had
nicked my skin, because it burned and I could feel my warm blood
washing over my icy bare skin. Like my father, Brian never hurt me
in places people could see. It was always on my stomach and back,
occasionally the upper thighs and butt, when he didn’t have enough
canvas to bruise or batter properly.

“Ummm…” He hummed in his throat, licking my
red blood from his blade. I could see his dick, hard in his jeans.
I made sure I kept my gaze hooded and never paying attention to any
one thing at the same time. If you stare, it provokes the demon
within to crawl out and attack more ferociously. They like the
game. The more you offer, the more they are able to toy with.

Loudly smacking his lips to draw my
attention, he lustfully groaned. “You taste so good, baby.”

I didn’t respond, and I forced the shaking of
my cold body to diminish. Every time I’ve been abused and hurt. The
men thought they had the upper hand, and if I had screamed and
whined or begged. They would have. But I never gave them the
satisfaction. I finally grasped that little trick when I was six.
That’s the cold hard truth.

After he licked the tang of his blade clean.
A longer and shallower precise cut was sliced on my belly curving
along my ribs. As the blood started to seep, Brian dropped to his
knees in front of me. Reaching up, he ran his dirty index finger
over my dripping wound. It burned so bad I sucked in a lung full of
air and bit my lip to keep from screaming in agony. I refused to
cry.
Only babies cry when they’re hurt
. That’s what I’ve
told myself for years.

“So pretty.” His sadistic voice, danced like
a giddy child’s.

Pulling his hard cock free, he masturbated
kneeling in front of my bleeding body as he softly and lovingly
laved my oozing slash. Soon it became free of blood and he sliced
me again, closer to my pelvis this time and savored the rush of my
fresh blood surging rapidly out of the deeper cut. Sucking his lips
around it, my metallic freshness flowed readily into his inhuman
mouth.

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