GAVIN
Waking up next to Althea was like a dream come true. A dream on repeat, because I woke up several times during the night, my stiff manhood demanding attention. My dreams were littered with images of her on her knees before me, my legs splayed, my cock tucked delicately between her two small hands. The look she gave me about undid me.
The first time I awoke, she was curled against my chest. I felt like a bastard wanting more from her than she'd already given, but my body wouldn't be denied. When I rolled her gently onto her side and pressed my cock between her folds, she let out a startled cry. My chest tightened from the sound of it. But then she pushed her hips back against me, swallowing me whole, and I knew that everything would be alright—that she didn't mind me waking her in such a lustful way.
I woke her two more times after that, and each time I was greeted with a purr or one of her sweet smiles. Fuck, this girl already has me under her thumb, and she doesn't even know it. She was supposed to be a slave to all my desires, but I'm finding myself wanting to give her everything. I'm torn between being possessive and being logical. I can't keep her a prisoner here.
When my alarm goes off too early in the morning, I quickly move to silence it before pulling Althea back into my arms and inhaling her clean scent. Maybe not so clean since I rutted her all through the night. The room smells like sex. The bedsheets are still sticky.
It takes everything in me to drag myself away from her. Whether I like it or not, I have court today, and I can't afford to slack off, even if I'd rather spend the day in bed. I dress in darkness, careful not to wake Althea. Then I scribble a note on a piece of paper and leave it on the bedside table along with my spare key. This one belongs to her now. I'll have another one made after work.
I drive myself to work, a million thoughts going through my mind but few of them related to the upcoming case. Today I'm defending an arsonist, some college kid whose father has tons of expendable cash and is damned determined to keep his son out of prison. The guy set his girlfriend's house on fire after she broke up with him. This type of case would normally be cut and dried. The guy had a motive, and he has a record of not making the best choices. But luckily the girl has lots of 'friends' who were seen around her place close to the time the fire was started, so there are a few other people to pin the crime on. All I have to do is prove that the kid couldn't be there at the time the fire was started, and he blessedly has a few friends willing to give him an alibi.
I briefly wonder if being around so many wealthy bad people is what turned me the way I am. Possessive and distrusting and demanding, even when I know I'm wrong. I can't be that way with Althea, though, or I will lose her. The thought is unbearable. Now that I've slept with her in my arms—seen how well we're made for each other—I'd bend the heavens and earth to keep her by my side. That's why I gave her the one thing I swore I never would. Her freedom.
She can leave the house today. She can go to work or to her mother's apartment. But she better come back to me tonight. If she doesn't...
I need to stop thinking about that, or it's going to drive me insane. I do my best to channel my energy into defending my client. Thoughts of Althea are never far from my mind. Any time the prosecutor stands to speak, I lose focus. This is a first for me. I've never cared about anything more than my career before.
I'm never happier than when the workday is done, and I can return home. There's a knot in my stomach wondering if Althea will be there waiting for me. I picture her standing in the kitchen with a smile on her face, the smell of a hot meal floating on the air. I'm not even sure she likes cooking, but it's nice to imagine that she does.
My heart is in a ball as I turn into my driveway, pull into the garage, and kill the engine. When I walk through the door, I bellow out, “Honey, I'm home.” She should be able to hear it from any room in the house.
I half expect her to come running, and when she doesn't, the ball falls into my stomach. Of course, she ran away. Why wouldn't she? Last night, I abducted her yet again.
I try to keep my disappointment at bay, holding on to hope that maybe she just didn't hear me and is somewhere in the house. I casually walk to the kitchen. There's no scent of food, though I'm honestly not surprised. That was a high hope. Even if she doesn't like cooking, it doesn't really matter. Right now, I have a chef come in once a week to do meal prep for me. It wouldn't take much to have her start cooking for two.
As I approach the living room, I don't hear the sound of the television, which is a good indication that Althea isn't in there either. I find it empty, a frown finally reaching my face as I realize how alone I feel without her.
Losing the cheerful act, I scour the rest of the house. She's nowhere to be found.
I walk into the bedroom, smelling the faint scent of our coupling from last night. The sheets on her side of the bed are thrown back. There's a small indentation where her body once lay. My chest throbs from the absence of her lying there—from knowing she's nowhere within easy reach.
Did she even read the note? I wonder, seeing it still sitting on the bedside table.
As I approach it, I don't recognize the handwriting as my own. I pick it up, trying to focus on the scrawled words in the dim lighting of the room since I didn't bother turning the overhead light on when I entered.
Gavin,
I have the day off, so I went home to speak to my mother about us. I hope you had a good day doing whatever it is you did.
Althea
She did run away, I think with a sigh. The note feels so impersonal and disingenuous. If I remember correctly, she said something similar to the guy who was training her before she got in the car with me last night.
I set the note back on the bedside table and then get to work changing the sheets on the bed. It's meant to distract me from the unpleasant things I'm feeling. Meant to help push back the incredible urge I have to drive over to her house and reclaim what's mine. I know exactly where she lives, and a quick look at the tracking app connecting our phones tells me that she didn't lie about going home. At least, there's that. I know that she's safe at home and not anywhere near that guy from last night.
I finish changing the sheets on the bed and then head downstairs to watch television, trying to be patient and allow her to return to me on her own. If she cares about me, she'll come back, I tell myself. No matter how hard I try, though, I can't concentrate. I can't think of anything other than having Althea by my side again. And I can't fight the urge to go to her.
But I won't make the same mistake I did the past two nights. I'm not going to barge in with guns blazing and demand she come with me. Yes, it has worked for me in the past, but she'd just run away again. I need to try a different approach. I need to sweep her off her feet and try to become the man I know she wants me to be.