A sharp knock on the door stopped it, stopped cold the deluge of heat that I needed so much.
“Shaun, it’s Ophelia. Can I come in?”
No, no, that wasn’t what I wanted at all. I squirmed and made inarticulate noises of discomfort, which made the arms that held me wrap tight, holding me still.
“Yep,” Shaun replied, his tone sharp. “I’ve just got her in the shower because…”
I heard the door creak open, footsteps on the tiles before I turned, opening my eyes a crack. And there she stood, tall, straight, a long ponytail of iron grey hair pulled back tight, a cool, calm gaze meeting mine.
“Hello, Bec,” she said, crouching down low, so as to be at eye level. “My name is Ophelia, and this is my town, Sanctuary. Shaun’s going to turn off the shower now, dry you off, and give you something to wear, then we’ll have a little talk.”
It was as if someone dropped me in a pool of ice water, my mind, my focus, my awareness all coming abruptly online. I blinked, taking in the strange bathroom, a very pale-looking Shaun, and the strange woman standing in the doorway, and just nodded, not trusting myself to speak.
Chapter 7
Is there anything worse than that awkwardness that comes after hot monkey sex? You’ve just connected on a shockingly intimate level with an almost complete stranger, and when you pull away, your heart rate settling, you’re right back to being strangers again. So having Shaun grab me a towel, doing exactly as the woman, Ophelia, suggested, drying me off, his eyes trained on the floor the whole time, I was in familiar territory. I took pity on the guy, taking the towel from his hands and finishing the job off in a series of brisk motions.
When I hung it up, he led me out of the room, into an adjoining bedroom, sorting through drawers, looking for clothes. He tossed a T-shirt and a pair of shorts on the bed, and I pulled them on, rolling them up at the waistband so they’d fit.
“Through here,” he said, a picture of polite concern, before opening a door and leading me out into the living room of a small cabin. It seemed nice, white walls, high ceilings, polished wooden floorboards, and at a small dining table, Ophelia sat, regal as a queen.
“So you are Bec,” she said as I approached, getting to her feet and taking my hands. “Bec…?”
It took me a few seconds to realise she wanted my last name. “Rebecca Carpenter,” I replied finally.
“Carpenter…” She seemed to consider my family name, but I couldn’t work out why. “From Melville?”
“Um…yeah. Why, do you know my nan or something?”
I said that with a ghost of my usual smile, not really feeling it right now. I was trying to resituate the mask I usually put on over, well…everything. Cheeky Bec, flirty Bec, mouthy Bec, they all deserted me under the woman’s cool grey gaze.
“I may,” she replied, her eyes warming, “but what’s more important is I know you, or at least what you’re going through. Shaun has brought you to my town, Sanctuary. As the name suggests, it is a safe place for those that need it.”
Her eyes were soft when they looked at me, and yet they seemed to see every damn thing. The time I passed out in my own vomit on Valentine’s Day, when I cheated on my year ten maths test, when I slept with that guy with the ring of pale skin around his finger, his hands otherwise heavily tanned.
“Do you need it?”
Her question hung in the air between us, long after she’d said it. She sat back in her chair, waiting me out, and I could feel Shaun’s eyes on me too. Maybe that was why I started to squirm, sweat breaking out across my skin, the heat flaring hotter again. My cunt was awash, slick, ready, so fucking ready, my eyes meeting Shaun’s, seeing something bright green burn there as he took a long, shuddering breath in.
“I need…”
I tried to answer her, reply to a politely phrased question, but the words just died in my throat as the heat roared, twice as hot, twice as hard.
“I need…”
Shaun was up and out of the chair, stalking closer, a delicious blend of desire and darkness in his gaze. He had to be affected by my heat, something that happened with the wrong partners. Being near me could be
like being drip fed Viagra, keeping them hard and coming back for more, sometimes well after they were wanted. Ophelia saw my tiny flinch and held up her hand, not even looking at Shaun, but he instantly stilled.
“Be clear about what you need. Articulate it, Bec. Desire, consent, they are very important in Sanctuary. Your body is clamouring for specific things. Be clear about what you want and don’t want, and I will make sure you get them.”
I snorted at that, but when she continued to look deadly serious, I finally fell silent.
“So, what, you’re gonna supply me with dick, lots of dick? Curved like bananas or straight as a die. Ooh, or maybe hooked at the end a little so it drags right against—”
“Is that what you want?” she asked.
“I…” Mum’s prohibition rode me really hard now. Don’t show, don’t tell. Keep it all locked down tight. This, this was the only thing that shut my mouth. I wouldn’t, couldn’t articulate that.