Chapter Two
Shelby
Damien's hands slip around my waist as we dance on the floor at Room 773, the hottest dance club on Chicago's south side right now. The thumping beats surge through my veins as well as any mixed cocktail could. In truth, I never drink. I don’t like the way it makes my brain feel foggy. My stepdad drove it into my skull that alcohol only alters your perception of the world, making it feel less dangerous, when in reality it becomes more dangerous. I believed him then, and a part of me misses his presence now. I haven’t seen him all week. Not since Sunday for our weekly family dinner. I love cooking and spend much of my time on the weekends preparing meals for my stepdad and my step-uncles, who all work together and live in the same apartment building on the north side of the city.
Damien's sickly-sweet cologne filters into my nostrils, causing me to get dizzy along with the strobe lights that throb to the beats of hip-hop music. I don't know how I convinced myself to come along with him tonight. In truth, I don’t really like him beyond more than just a study buddy from my psychology course, but I can tell he likes me and it was hard for me to say no to someone so nice. I love to study with him after hours at the library and we often share stories of our upbringings and talk about the Cubs games…but that's all it is for me. A good friendship.
But for Damien?
I know he wants much more. I sometimes catch his eyes drifting down to my ample chest and because of it I’ve started wearing cardigan sweaters with the buttons closed to the neck to avoid enticing his gaze. He’s handsome, but there is only one man that makes me think dirty thoughts. One man that ever turned me on. Only one man I want to do inappropriate things with. I’ve tried to date other men the last few years of college, but none of them makes me feel the way that Shane did.
My stepdad, my savior, my knight in shining armor.
He’s the one that makes me so turned on with the idea of his eyes grazing my nipples that it forces my fingers down the front of my pants to bring myself to a quick orgasm every night before I fall asleep.
I hate living alone, and I often think about moving back into the penthouse apartment we shared through all of my high school years. Just thinking about my best friend Kami coming over and gushing about how hot my stepdad is. It always made me uncomfortable, but only because I agreed and I wanted him all to myself. He is an intense man, ruthless in his business dealings, but he had to be in the world he was born into. He’s told me little about his upbringing on the south side, only that it was rough and that there was little room for error in a world like that.
The boys at my small community college could never compare to him. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t tried to date. I wish desperately to fantasize about anyone other than my stepdad. A sudden thought takes me of my uncles and the times I’ve caught them jerking off to pornography, or in one instance when I walked into the room and caught uncle Gio with a woman. Her lips were sliding down his cock as she knelt between his knees on the living room floor.
I was so embarrassed and so turned on. Before he could catch me, I snuck back into my bedroom and shamefully rubbed myself to orgasm before falling asleep with a satisfied smile on my face. Fantasies of my stepdad and his brothers played in my head day and night. I thought I'd be able to rid myself of them by going away to college, but it’s only grown worse.
They each share the same broad shoulders and striking dark hair, with skin the shade of a warm summer day, freshly sun-kissed with a tan. I think often of trailing my tongue along the ridges of their abdominals while they pull my hair and force me to suck each of them off in quick succession.
Damien and the other boys at college can never compare, and that thought nearly brings tears to my eyes.
Will I ever be satisfied with anyone but my stepdad?
"Do you want some water?” Damien’s thoughtful question breaks me from my thoughts.
"Yes, thanks."
I guzzle the water he hands me, already feeling dampness at my hairline from the dancing and the cluster of bodies packed into the dance floor. I love to dance, I just don't love the club scene, which is why I never venture alone. I know I’m a pretty girl, I’ve been asked out on my fair share of dates, but nothing makes me more uncomfortable than a stranger's eyes caressing my curves from across the room. Men have a way of making me feel like the prey to their predator, and Shane never makes me feel that way. Shane only ever makes me feel safe, makes me feel at home, makes me feel like his.
"I'm going to go to the bathroom."
"OK." Damien smiles." I'll come with you."
"That's okay, I'll be right back."
Damien smiles and trails along with me anyway. He tries to lace his fingers with mine, but I brush them off as if I’m not aware of what he’s trying to do. It’s not the first time Damien has tried to hold my hand while walking out of the library or into the lecture room. But I always make it known that I’m not his. I will never be his.
I reach the bathroom to find a long line waiting on one stall. I huff softly, the stickiness in the air going to my head and making me feel dizzy and woozy all at once. I lean against the wall and luckily Damien is there to steady me. I accept his gentle embrace, a small smile trailing over my lips as I realized how good of a friend he has been this last year of college. We will walk together for graduation in two short weeks, only a few exams standing between us and our psychology degrees. Damien will go on to get his master's degree, and that was originally my plan too, but now I think I should take a break for the summer or longer because being away from Shane and my family has taken a toll.
I lift a hand to my head, sweat dripping off of my brow as my throat grows parched, even though I've only just had half a bottle of Damien's water.
"I think I'm gonna be sick."
"I'll walk you home." Damien smiles, his eyes warm as he guides me through the crowd and out into the fresh cool air. I breathe a sigh of relief, but it's short-lasted as the throbbing climbs up the base of my skull and lodges in my frontal lobe.
"I didn't drink anything today."
"Not a drop of alcohol?"
I nod. "I just need a nap."
"My apartment is right around the corner, you're welcome to crash on the couch."
I nod again, thinking for the first time that crashing on anyone's couch sounds like a great idea. I don’t think I have the stamina to walk the 10 blocks to my apartment. Besides, no one will be there waiting for me anyway. Shane made sure I had an entire apartment to myself because he doesn’t trust any roommate for me, and I’m glad for it. Being an only child makes me comfortable with alone time. Anyway, the only person I want to live with is Shane. Sadness comes over me then, before I vow to call him first thing in the morning and arrange for a breakfast date or something, just to spend time with him. I’m almost addicted to the scent of his skin and the curve of his lips when he smiles at me over a plate of home-cooked food. Pleasing him is my favorite thing to do on earth.