Three Stages of Love: Attraction (3 page)

The music was shooting through me; the people bumping into me as they danced nearly knocked me over. Michael stayed close to me, keeping one hand on my hip as I lost myself in the thumping rhythms.

“So,” Michael screamed close to my ear, “what’s with that boyfriend of yours? How did he let you out of his sight?” Michael’s question woke me like a bucket of ice water. Even he led me to think about Alexander. I just couldn’t get away from it; I couldn’t get myself away from all thoughts of
Alexander
!

“He’s not my boyfriend, and he didn’t
let
me out of his sight. I told him that I didn’t want to be with him anymore.” And as I admitted that I had sent Alexander away, I began to feel the pain; the ache I had been running from was threatening to imprison me yet again.

“Was the sex that bad that you sent him away?” Grinning Michael tried to figure out the story, but I had no humor to return to him.

“No, the sex was…phenomenal. Look, I don’t want to talk about him, I just need…” I had no idea what I needed, but I wanted to crawl into a dark place where my thoughts were blank, where my pain and misery were wiped away.

Michael stopped dancing and held me close to him. “Hey, I don’t want to talk about him either. And I can definitely help get your mind off of whatever pain that is in your eyes.”

And with that, Michael held my face in his palm and pulled me toward him, kissing me roughly, biting on my lips, and tightening his hold on the base of my spine. Between the alcohol and my preexisting pain, I couldn’t understand why he was kissing me and why he was being so forceful, nor did I have the strength to stop him.

As he pulled away from me, inches away from my face, his demeanor was changed. He was aroused and unruly and a bit frightening.

“I can make the pain go away while giving you absolute satisfaction if you’ll let me.” Michael wasn’t forcing me to do anything, but his persuasion to “make the pain go away” intrigued me immediately.

I had no interest in Michael, but I was sold on his offer.

I nodded, unknowing of what I was getting myself into. Michael turned loose, pulling me into his groin, squeezing my hips with a strength that shot through me—not in an aroused way but in a throbbing sting of pain. I felt no enjoyment in his touch or his kiss, but my mind focused on the dull pain he inflicted, and everything else began to drift away.

I tried to pull back from him, but his hands were strong, and he grew in strength the more I tried to release myself from his hold.

Finally pulling away, Michael spoke in a growl, “Is that too rough for you? Because if it is, then I won’t let this go further. If you want to free yourself of whatever is eating away at you, let me take you out of here and numb your pain from here,” he said, lifting his hand to my head, smoothing my hair, “to
here.
” He growled as his hand went to the crease of my inner thighs, and his fingers pressed onto my cleft through the fabric of my dress.

I felt overwhelmed and queasy. I was making a decision drunk and depressed—in two very dangerous states. But could my feelings get any worse? I had already lost everything I enjoyed. Everything I appreciated and loved no longer had value for me; what was left? How could it possibly get worse? Anything or anyone that could make the pain lessen or go away was worth taking a shot at; and so I nodded, agreeing to leave with him.

Michael wrapped his arm around my waist as we headed toward the entrance of the lounge. Only I had forgotten that Alexander, Marcus, and Samantha were still waiting there for me, the three of them angrily staring at me as I approached, having obviously just witnessed the show on the dance floor.

“Are you leaving with them?” Michael asked me loud enough so that the group could hear.

But giving me little time to answer, Alexander responded for me, “No, my friend—at least not with me.”

And the sting shot through my heart; his negation of my being with him, though it was truth, were words that struck like a poison-tipped arrow.

“Eva, we’re going,” Samantha said, implying that I was to go with her. Samantha liked Michael as a friend but always kept her distance. Samantha had hung out with Michael at one point when we first met years ago, and though she never mentioned anything more than that she wasn’t interested, she always watched him with a cautious eye. She mentioned something about his friends or activities being strange, but I never saw anything in him that was any odder than my own life.

“No, I’m going to take a ride with Michael. His friend is having a party. You guys should come,” I added uninvitingly.

But as I responded, Samantha’s concern came through her. “Eva, let’s go. You’ve had a lot to drink, and you need to get home and rest.”

And as Samantha tried to mother me, my anger grew against her. There she was, glowing and gloating, happily in love with Marcus, best friend of the man who was torturing my soul, and I was the one who was doing something wrong. “Sam, you can go home and rest. I’ve taken enough of your time away from Marcus.”

Still reeling on Alexander’s words, I barely heard what Michael was saying to me.

“I’m sorry. What did you ask me?” I asked, leaning toward him.

“I said, are you ready to go?”

He stretched out his hand, and I wanted to say,
No thank you, I’m taken,
but I had no reason to do so. And with Alexander watching, there was no way I was turning this young bull down.

“I’d love to!” I shouted, placing my hand softly in his. “Oh wait,” I said, turning back toward the bar counter, meeting Alexander face-to-face. I leaned over and brushed against his thighs. “Sorry, I’m just trying to get my shot.”

Leaning almost completely across him, I could swear his breath was heavy and his body was tense—a tension that he
only
held when he was aroused. Intentional or not, he released pheromones that my body recognized and swallowed hungrily.

I grabbed the shot glass and pretended to be unaffected. I stood tall in front of him; all while Michael waited awkwardly behind me. Alexander and I stared at each other for what seemed like a long instance, and at that moment, I had no doubt that fire burned between us. But something was different about him. He was too uptight and cold; but that was probably the remnant of the heart I had broken.

Unexpectedly grabbing my wrist, Alexander shouted an order. “Put the shot down, Evangeline,” he said in an angry tone.

“Excuse me,” I answered, giving him a “you don’t own me” grin and giggle. “I’m not with you, remember?”

His eyes widened, and his fingers tightened around my wrist. “Don’t make me punish you. Put the shot down, and tell the boy to go away. I should have killed him out there on the dance floor, but I thought you could have handled yourself.” Alexander growled at me in a hush.

My sex tightened between my legs, my eyes fluttered closed for a moment and my lungs took a deep breath as I thought of the jealousy that was spewing out of him and ultimately what punishment he could possibly give me. Never had I craved to be dominated so intensely than at that moment.

But recalling the real punishment that I had endured for the last three months, there was no pleasure he could give me to make me feel secure in taking the chance with him again. There was still the uncertainty within me as to whether I would cower away at the slightest introduction of emotions for him.

“Let go of me, Mr. Mason.”

Hearing my distant and unattached anger, he let go. Against my true wishes, he let go…again.

I took my shot in a gulp, and it burned my throat, but no worse than Alexander burned in my heart. I had to numb myself; I had to hold strong for what I had asked for. I hadn’t known the gravity of the consequences of my request, but I couldn’t recoil now.

I felt furious. I wanted Alexander in the naughtiest of ways, and he wanted possession of what he couldn’t have—a combination that was both mischievous and wayward.

Purposely neglecting him, I turned, flipping my hair back, fluffing it wildly. “Let’s go, handsome,” I said. I took Michael’s hand and wrapped it around my waist just to spite Alexander’s staring eyes.

“I’m going to go enjoy myself, so, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get past,” and without waiting for permission or for them to move, I brushed past, pulling Michael along, leaving Samantha practically in tears.

“Here we are,” Michael said as he pulled into a parking spot in front of an apartment complex.

But glancing at my surroundings, I realized where we were. “Michael, isn’t this your place?” I asked, noting that we were in fact parked in front of Michael’s apartment building.

“Yes, actually,” Michael answered. “I thought we’d have a lot more fun here than at a party. You ready to go?”

I came apart, once again feeling uneasy and unsure of the decision I had made. But Michael was a friend and not some random guy I picked up in a bar, not like—

“Yeah, let’s go.” I jumped out of the car, stopping myself from thinking of
him.

When we reached Michael’s apartment on the fourth floor, I was surprised at his decor. “You’re a fan of skulls, I take it?” I asked, wearily pointing at the skull head designs pasted on his walls and the skull knickknacks on his coffee table. The entire apartment had skull paraphernalia and the like: daggers and snakes and things of the deathly nature. One could say it was a grunge look, but the mist from the incense that lingered in the air certainly exuded something much darker.

“Yeah, you can say I’m a fan. The darkness and danger of all these things symbolize eroticism and excessive sexual desire.” He moved into me from behind, wrapping his arm around my entire waist. I felt suffocated and afraid.

“Michael—” I said, unsteady on my feet and clouded in thought.

But he cut me off, sensing my anxiety and insecurities. “Eva, listen, I’m not going to play coy with you. You’re a big girl who’s got a broken heart. I’ve been there. I too felt sad and depressed and angry within myself, but I met someone who made me forget.”

I want to forget!
My thoughts screamed in my head.

“Look, I know this may sound strange, but try it,” Michael urged in a tone full of compassion and understanding.

“What is it exactly you want me to try?” I asked, wondering if there really was anything for me to be afraid of.

“Have you ever heard of sadomasochism?” Michael asked as he moved closer to me and once again turned my back to his chest. He breathed on my neck heavily as he waited for me to respond, but my body shook as I recalled the last time I had been touched by a man.

Choking on my words, I responded, fearful of his intentions. “I know it has something to do with liking pain,” I admitted as Michael’s breath rumbled past his lips devilishly.

“Close your eyes, and put your hands behind your back,” he ordered.

Hesitantly I appeased him, closing my eyes and reaching behind my back, clasping my hands together.

“Good,” he said as he sandwiched my hands between his belly and my back so that I could not pull them out. “Now, I want you to take deep breaths, from deep inside you. I want you to imagine the breaths of air flowing through your lungs, up into your chest, and out through your mouth in a blow.”

And as I breathed as instructed, I felt his hands come up into my top and over my breasts.

“Continue breathing. Don’t stop. I want you to trust that I will give you pleasure, that I won’t do anything you don’t want, and that I will numb you from whatever pain you have inside. Can you do that?” Michael sounded calm but overly eager in his promise.

And I had nothing else to lose.

“One last thing. I want you to remain quiet. I don’t want to hear any noise—not one moan, and not one scream. Conceal all of it inside you, do you understand?” His hands continued to circle my breasts as my nipples hardened, but his touch contradicted his explanation of being painful.

All I could think was,
Why would I scream or moan from such subtle contact?

“Answer me!” he yelled as I contemplated my options.

I nodded yet again, giving up my voice that was once so lovely, for a moment free from heartache.

His hands reached into the cups of my bra and, violently and harshly, he clenched both my hardened nipples with the tips of his fingers as he squeezed and tugged and squeezed harder and twisted them. The pain surged through my breasts. The stinging through my nipples vibrated through my belly and down to my core. I wanted to scream, and tears filled my sockets—tears that were, for the moment, concealed only by my eyelids. But strangely, I didn’t want it to stop, and I wasn’t pulling away. The electrifying pain was making me wet and excited, but not in an enjoyable way.

“You don’t want me to stop, do you?” he asked, viciously pinching and pulling on my nipples. “This pain is so much better than the worst pain you’ve been carrying with you, isn’t it?” Michael asked, somehow having read the pain through my eyes.

And I nodded.

Subconsciously my body responded without the true desire to do so. The corpse that remained when my soul died; reacted to the pain—the pain that deleted my thoughts, that removed my guilt, and the misery that filled the emptiness inside me.

Michael let go, and I let out a full breath.

He said, “Come let me numb the rest of you.”

And I followed Michael to a door in the corner of his apartment that led to a black painted room with red fluorescent lights looming from above.

I stopped at the threshold. My body went into caution mode as I froze, staring wide-eyed and frantic at this room. Metal chains hung from the ceiling; leather straps were nailed to wooden bars hanging from the walls—it was a torture chamber.

“Stop. Stop whatever it is that you’re thinking. You will be fine. Imagine what you felt a moment ago—that surge of electricity, the numbing pain. Now multiply that by ten. Trust me,” he added and led me into the center of the room.

“Michael, I’m not having sex with you.” I couldn’t have sex with him. I hadn’t been with a man since Alexander, and I had no desire to be with any other man but Alexander.

“You don’t have to, but in time you will want to. For now, let’s make this all about you. Come stand here.” Michael stood beside the wooden planks against the wall and instructed me, “Turn your back and spread your arms and legs.”