Strung (11 page)

"On paper, I owned the business.  I took care of the creative and operational side and I dealt with the clients. Robert took care of the rest.  I had no reason not to trust him.  He invested the money to open the business and he knew more about business and running one than I did.  I was relieved that I didn't have to.  He was my husband. 

"During the preliminary hearings, my legal counsel, argued that the books looked completely above board until our separation and that Robert had instigated the mess out of vindictiveness.  The prosecutor pointed out that it only looked worse for me because theoretically, after the separation, Robert was no longer involved to make sure I operated above board, providing me with the opportunity and motive to commit fraud.  It never occurred to me that he still had access to the company's
accounts after I walked out.  My bad!”  I shrug.

"I've heard that Narcissistic behaviour extends to the bedroom as well."  He whispers.

"What?” 
Shit did I hear him right?  Way out of line!

"Don't be coy Acacia.  Did he have a messiah complex in the bedroom as well?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but our sex life was okay.  He didn't complain too much!”  I splutter the lie.  Robert did nothing but complain.

"Okay?  That's it
?  Okay?" his lips curl as he watches me and my face feels like it's hovering just inches above the flames, slowly roasting.  I hug myself protectively.

"Well, I don't have a point of reference.  Robert is the only man I've ever slept with!"  I really
do not want this conversation to go on   I know if it does, the tears will fall in spectacular style.  "If you'll excuse me, I'm turning in for the night!"

I rise quickly, grabbing one of the crutches for a quick getaway and set off before he can say anything else.  It's only twenty minutes later - when I'm lying red eyed and sobbing in my bed, staring at the dark ceiling - that I realise how smoothly he controlled my attempts at conversation.  I had tried to get him to talk about himself. 
Instead, I have just poured my whole life story out to him.  His manipulative behaviour has Narcissist written all over it, but deep down I have doubts about Chayton having a God Complex.  He has empathy – sometimes.  Besides, living out here would not satisfy the social needs of a narcissist.

I drift off to sleep, dreaming of dark eyes mirroring flickering flames and
I am drawn like a moth.

Chapter 6

28th March

"Do you ever feel the need to do something completely out of the ordinary?  Something life affirming?" he whispers, his breath warm on my ear. 

It's Thursday.  Somehow, during loading the dishwasher after lunch, I have been cornered against the kitchen units and I have the countertop in a bone-white death grip.  Chayton, clean-shaven and male-model-hot in black jean and black dress shirt, is close behind me, invading my personal space.

"Yes."  My voice is hoarse, betraying me.  "You?" 
What is he doing? 
I turn stiffly in the tight space to face him.

"Yes.  And right now I'm just dying to remind myself of all things that make me a man whilst risking the one thing I value above wealth, health and life itself."

His eyes are dark, hooded and alarmingly intense as he gazes at me, merely inches away.  We are not touching but it feels like he is all over me and my body is responding like iron-filings to a magnet.

"What is there to risk above life itself?"  I breathe.

"My heart and soul."  He whispers.

I gasp.  "That is pretty intense."

"Risks worth taking usually are."

"How, I mean, what do you plan to do, that is so life affirming?"  I whisper back.  A strong current of tension is swirling thick and heavy, in the diminishing space between us and the oxygen is being squeezed painfully out of the room.  I turn my face away, trying to find air.

"Sleep with me Acacia."

Numbness floods through me in an instant.  My synapses freeze in mid fire.

"No strings attached, no emotional connections; just two people incapable of love or trust, satisfying a need as old as life itself."  He leans in closer - as close as he can get without touching me.  Slowly my body's instinct for survival jump-starts my senses, I can feel his breath on my neck, warm and moist and my core clenches with sweet painfulness.

"Two people risking the potential of an emotional attachment, like a skydiver risks the potential of death, but relishes the beauty, the adrenaline, the soul defining, momentary change in perspective that the orgasmic free fall through space has to offer."

My olfactory system, registers his heady scent of warm summer sun and fresh coffee, and I gaze, spell bound, at the emerald flashes burning brightly in his dark liquid eyes.  "And what makes you think
I
would find that life affirming?"  I gasp.

"Because unlike Robert,
I can
make it life affirming.  I can take you places Acacia, you wouldn't dream possible." 

I try to calm my body's response to the promise in his words and close my eyes.  The air is charged with static, crackling and darting around me, raising goose flesh on my skin in contradiction to the heat I feel radiating from his body.

"Do you feel that Acacia?  We have hardly touched and already we're good together.  Listen to your body, say yes." 

Listen to my body
?  I am trying and I don’t have a clue what it's trying to tell me.  The signals are all so confusing.

"No attachments?"  I whimper, without thinking. 
Am I mad?  Why, the hell, am I even asking?  I should be screaming no and running like Jack the Ripper is on my heels!

"No attachments."  I feel his lips flit softly across my forehead and down the side
of my face, his fingertips skimming my upper arms, and my traitorous body leans into his caress.

His lips pause to feel the flutter of my pulse below my ear while his fingers graze from my wrists to the short sleeve of my shirt and back again and I gasp involuntarily.  Maybe if I do this it will flush these strange feelings out of my system.

"Yes." 
NO!
 
What am I saying?  I have not decided yet!  I am still trying to work this out!  Shit!

Chayton grasps my face in both hands, trapping me, tilting my face up to his and his lips claim mine in one smooth silky motion.  I gasp at the unexpected rightness of it and his tongue takes advantage, exploring, tasting, feeling.  Slow and sensual.  I send my own tongue out tentatively to test, to taste, meeting his.  As I do the kiss changes, deepens and becomes more aggressive, more passionate, demanding and in
seconds, we are both feverish. 

Chayton breaks the kiss first, looking astonished
.  "That was unexpected!" he murmured, looking bewildered.  His eyes search mine, as if he’s lost something important, expecting to find it there.

"Maybe this is wrong!"  I stutter, starting to pull away. 
Damn right, it is wrong.  Call Victoria.  NOW!

"Nothing is wrong.  Everything is exactly the way it should be," he breathes running a thumb across my lips.

He snakes an arm around my waist and splays his hand out across my lower back, pulling me against him, while his other had tangles in my hair, holding my head in place.  As his lips find mine, I feel his arousal pressing into me.  The possibility that I am the reason for his arousal is disarming and is my final undoing.

"Let's go to the cabin,
” he mutters against my lips.

"Why?"  Not that I really care.  His lips trail down to my jaw and I lift my head to give him access to my neck. 
Oh my!

"In a couple of hours there will be no privacy here." 
We need privacy?  Of course we do! Do that again...just there...Mmm.

"Okay." 
But I want you here.  Now!
  And inwardly I pout.

~.~

The cabin is still warming up but right in front of the fire, it is heavenly.  I ignore the sofas, grabbing a scatter cushion instead and make myself comfortable on the rug in front of the fire.  The orange and blue flames are mesmerising and helps calm the nervous energy coursing through me. 

Chayton eventually strolls through after lighting the fire for the boiler.  He is still in his jeans and dress shirt but now barefoot.  He grabs a few more cushions, and throws them down on the rug, easing himself down next to me.  My heart is pounding with nerves as he leans toward me, pressing his forehead against mine, and tracing erotic circles on one of my denim clad knees with a long finger.

"I believe we started something earlier that needs finishing,” he mumbles and the promise in those innocent words spread desire through my veins like a wildfire.  I have only ever been with Robert and given his dysfunctionality, I'm not sure what to expect.  I bite my lip, watching his finger brush over my thigh as I try to decide what to do.  Robert may have been dysfunctional but he was still a man, by definition, probably liked the same things all men like. 

Okay.
  Shifting so both my hands are free I reach over and start to undo his belt buckle.  I am nervous that I won't be good enough for him.  My fingers tremble as he leans back giving me more room, his eyes never leaving mine. 

I finally get the buckle undone and fumble with the button.  My anxiety is making me clumsy
.  I am almost there when his hands clasp mine and halt my progress.  I stare at the rug, ashamed.  I am useless at this.

"Acacia, what's wrong? 
You are scared.  Why?"

Oh God.  What do I do now?
  I am mortified.  I feel the tears building behind my eyes and I kneel back on my heels, my injured ankle awkwardly off to one side, resigned to my failure.  I cannot look at him.  I stare blankly at my hands, trapped in his.

"Acacia.  Look at me."

Seeing the disappointment in his eyes will be the end of me.  I close my eyes, wishing myself somewhere else.  After a long tense moment, he releases my hands and I let them fall limply onto my lap.  I hear him shift.  He is going.  It is better this way.  End it before it gets started, I tell myself.  My eyes flutter open, directly into his steady gaze.  Chayton has pulled himself closer to me, his long legs forming an enclosure around me but not touching.  Disquiet has settled across his features.

"Acacia.  I'm not going to ask again."  I can hear the disappointment edged in his voice and I can tell he is struggling to keep it under control.  A sob escapes my throat and start to scramble to my feet, my ankle slowing me down.

"Acacia.  No!"  He pulling me back down and I fall, all arms and legs into his lap.

"Let me go!"  I'm weeping uncontrollably, trying to push myself away from his solid chest but his arms wrap tighter around me until
I am trussed up like a small distressed child in the arms of a parent and he is cooing softly into my hair.

"Acacia, if you don't want to do this, we don't have to.  But I do want you to talk to me and I'm not letting you go until you do."  His voice is low as he mumbles into my hair and I can feel the vibrations rumble through his ribs.

I'm lying still but stiffly.  It's less exhausting than trying to escape.  I sniff loudly.

"I'm no good at this.  I'm sure you've noticed!" 
There.  I have said it.  Can I go now?

"No good at what, Acacia?" 

"This - sex - pleasing men," I sniff in the most unladylike manner. 
Could this be any more mortifying? 
He loosens his arms from their tight grip around me, grasping my face in both hands forcing me to look at him. 

"What makes you think that?"  His eyes are hard and angry and
he is scaring the shit out of me.

"It's obvious isn't it?"  My voice is small and raw.

"No Acacia.  Not to me it isn't - especially seen as we haven't had sex yet."

"You have needs..."  I try looking past him so I don't have to see his eyes
, which are burning into me.  "...and I can't..."  I'm all out of tears and my eyes are hot and scratchy.

"How do you know?  What about your needs?  Was that bastard really that big an asshole?"  His expression softens and I stare back at him blankly.  To my
amazement, he brings his lips down to mine and his tongue works its way between my lips, expertly finding mine.  I stall for a minute, uncertainty keeping me tense.  He tilts my head and deepens the kiss.  "Acacia, forget everything," he whispers against my mouth.  "Don't do, just feel.  Here and now."  His mouth moves along my jaw and he pauses to nibble on my ear.  "Let me make love to you."

I can feel my body responding to his touch but my mind is still stuck on the idea that this is somehow wrong and
I am going to disappoint him.  I can't. 

"Acacia, please."  He is trailing soft sweet kisses down my neck and he holds my head back allowing him better access. 

I gasp as his teeth graze my skin at the base of my throat.  He twists us so I am now lying on the rug, my head on a cushion, my legs trapped between his thighs and he is leaning over me his mouth still weaving delicious spells against my throat. 

I can feel his heart pounding against his ribs as my fingers find their way under his
shirttails to touch the taught skin over his chest.  I gasp as his fingers find the buttons on my borrowed blouse, his mouth following and kissing each inch of freshly exposed skin.  My flesh is a cacophony of sensations as his lips ignite and sooth, heat and cool, every nerve ending singing, screaming even, for more.

I close my eyes, trying to absorb and process the unaccustomed sensations as he sweeps the fabric of my shirt open, exposing my belly and bra to his gaze.  I don't think my body has ever received this much attention before.

"You are beautiful Acacia.  You deserve to be worshipped.  It's not a bad thing.  Let it happen."  It is almost a plea, uttered from somewhere in my cleavage as his mouth explores.  I am still tense.  I want to.  I really do want to.  It is all so alien to me.  I shiver as his tongue explores slowly over the top of each breast, following the lacy edge of my bra.  Chayton gazes up at me with hooded eyes.  His smoky, hot gaze inflaming my skin, setting me ablaze and I squirm under him, staring in amazement as he unclasps the small clip between my breasts with his teeth. 
How, the hell, did he do that?  I struggle to undo that clip with my fingers!
  He smiles at me playfully grasping first one cup edge with his mouth, pulling it back and then other.  My breasts are now fully exposed and my nipples are standing to attention, awaiting their orders. 

I hear a low groan escape his throat as he
suckles one nipple into his mouth, twirling it with his tongue.  I want to ponder the reasons for the groan, what it means.  Is it a good groan or bad groan; but he tugs at the nipple with his teeth and I stop thinking, my own groan mirroring his.  I arch my back, pushing my begging breasts up and he moves over to the other nipple, playing with it, tugging it, biting it; teasing it to life.  I groan again as the sensation connects to my groin.

"Yes.  Feel it baby.  Don't think.  Just.  Feel.
”  His voice is husky and dark.

"I want to."  I hear myself whisper.

He tugs at my nipple hard and I feel my hips tilting up to press against his. 
Shit!
 
Did I just do that?
  We both groan together.  Slowly his mouth shifts down, caressing my skin, one slow erotic kiss at a time until he reaches my navel and his tongue dips inside.  I want to arch my hips again but his weight has shifted and his body is holding my legs down.  I feel his wicked tongue weaving its magic as it dips in and out, swirls round and round.  Finally, his teeth nip the skin just below my navel.  It's almost painful but completely exquisite.  His breath fans across my belly, warming my skin but cooling the moist path left by his mouth.