Are they looking for me?
I don’t see a phone anywhere and even if there was one, who would I call? The police? They would plaster my face around until someone recognized me. But he said he saved me from bad people. What if they are still out to harm me. My best course of action is to stay here where it is safe until I can remember who I am.
I go into the bathroom and stare at myself in the mirror, hoping that it sparks something. When I gaze at my reflection, I don’t know the girl in the mirror. Fingering my long dark locks, I have an urgent need to cut the hair off.
I hate this uneasy feeling. I poke at the place on my head. “Ouch.” I gotta stop doing that. I open the medicine cabinet and look for a pain reliever. It’s empty save a stick of men’s deodorant.
Sniffing my armpit, I thankfully don’t stink.
Maybe there will be something in the kitchen to ease the pain.
I don’t have much luck in there either. Most of the cabinets are bare. There are a few dishes and some canned microwavable goods.
I feel restless and unsure of what to do with myself.
The place looks clean. There aren’t any personal touches anywhere to tell me anything about Charlie. There isn’t even a piece of mail indicating an address to give me an idea of where I even am.
I go to switch on the TV, but it says no signal. That’s strange. It worked fine earlier. I try different setting and channels but nothing.
There goes that idea.
I can’t even take a walk. I have no clothes or shoes.
I hope Charlie returns soon. With nothing to occupy my time I can’t help but find myself thinking about the man I woke to find teasing my nipples with ice cubes. The way he made my body feel…the way he was looking at me when our eyes met. He was hungry for me. The man wanted me and my body was responding until my brain caught up with me.
Is it wrong for me to want him to do it again?
What would he do if I asked him to?
He said he was trying to wake me.
My imagination takes over and I lay back on the couch, envisioning what would have happened had I not forced him to stop.
My thighs part and I touch myself as I wish he would have.
I know it sounds bad but, in my fantasy, he doesn’t stop. He ignores my wishes and takes what he wants.
A cold sensation rubs across my chest and my nipples tighten. Warmth pools between my thighs as this stranger continues his torturous assault on my body. His rough hands hold me down as he brings his mouth to mine, forcing his tongue between the parting of my lips.
His kiss is brutal and powerful. It is a kiss that says I own you and you are mine to do with as I please. I return the kiss, deepening it as our tongues sweep together in a tango fueled by carnal desire.
“Fuck,” he growls and shoves my knees apart.
I try to close them back together and deny him. Wanting him to work for it. Wanting him to be rough with me.
His rough hands grip the tops of my thighs and pull, spreading me wide. Charlie doesn’t get to go straight for his prize though. I push against his shoulders.
A devious grin crosses his ruggedly handsome face. One hand holds my throat, the pad of his thumb applying a gentle yet firm pressure. A lustfully hazy storm brews in his eyes as they darken, warning me that he will give me what I want.
Rough.
Raw.
Primal.
This man is going to ravish me.
He’s going to fuck me like he hates me.