Chapter 2

Remember that one thing I can’t tell Marina what I did? Well, that one thing… that is my weakness. Sex.

Days after my episode… well, I think it was an episode. It must have been because I don’t remember where the blood came from, or how I even got home. I end up in a man’s house, with one wicked stranger on my mind, yet have the hands of another man on me. See sex, no matter how much I know I should avoid it, not want it, it’s impossible for me to say no.

Looking down, his hands are rough and calloused as he skims my naked body. I sit up on one elbow as I watch him pull his pants down and throw his shirt from over his head. His hair is red, I’ve never been with a redhead. I hope he is satisfactory. It’s daylight outside so I can see every inch of him when he stands in front of me, naked. He wants me to say something, an approval perhaps? I ignore him and lay back down, wrapping my legs around his back to pull him to my naked body as I lay on his bed.

He was easy to bed. Hell, he even asked for it.

I can’t say no. I have that insane urge that I can’t kick. And when I see him standing in front of me, clean and a good body… how can I say no?

I don’t know him.

Crap! I don’t even know his name.

I only want one thing, and I’m about to get it from him without even saying a damn word.

His body drops to mine and his calloused hand reaches between us, to my clit, and he plays with it, warming me up. He doesn’t need to do that though. I was already warmed up and ready to go the moment we walked out of the restaurant at lunch time. I was sitting there waiting for my coffee when he walked up.

I bet you he didn’t expect me to ask him to take me to his home?

By the look on his face, he didn’t expect me to want to sleep with him either, or even go through with it without even asking his name first.

Shit! What was it again? Bob? Robert?

I shake my head and run my nails down his back and arch up, I need more. I’ve missed the male body. I promise myself all the time I won’t do this, but I always cave within three months of being sober.

What can I say? I love sex, sex loves me.

Even if you knew me, you wouldn’t think that of me.

But this? This isn’t me. This is the demon me who craves what she knows she isn’t allowed to have. Yes. But she takes it anyway.

“Gosh, you’re beautiful.” His eyes drop down between us as he removes his hand and gets ready to insert his wrapped-up cock into me. No way I’d let him do this without a condom on. I may be horny, but I’m not stupid. Before I can protest his lips brush my breast, and up my neck. His breath blows against my lips and it’s too much, too close. He’s not allowed there. Never. I turn my head and pull him close to nuzzle my neck instead. Kissing, is one thing I have separated from sex. It’s too intimate and holds too much meaning. I haven’t kissed a man for many years, and I don’t intend to either.

He pushes inside of me, I feel him, and instantly wish he was bigger so he’d hit that magical spot. I push him to turn him over so I can be on top. His smiling face lets me believe he’s way too happy about this. I don’t touch him as I start moving, my hands go to my dark hair and pull, as I rock back and forth with the sun shining in on my breasts.

He says something, but I completely block him out, not wanting to hear a word from his mouth. He tries again, and his voice starts to crack through my high as I ride him. I shake my head letting go of my hair as I look at him, his mouth opens and I place my finger in there, hoping to shut him up from whatever it is about to leave his mouth.

He gets the hint and sucks instead.

Thank God, because I don’t want to hear him. I know the moment the high leaves me and I reach my destination, my life and who I am will hit me full force. Therefore, I don’t want to hear a word he has to say. He will just make it come faster, my world, which I can escape from in this moment.

My head drops backward, my finger leaves his mouth, and I try to catch my breath. Our breathing is fast as we come down.

“Who are you?” he asks me.

I lift myself up and move away from him.

Now that the high is gone, I’m left in a room with a man whose name I don’t know, yet again.

Why do I do this?

This isn’t me?

Why can’t I stop?

I grab my clothes, dressing as fast as I can to leave. His voice is raspy as he tries to speak to me again, but I shake my head in an attempt to dispel it all.

Why won’t he shut up?

I don’t want the reminder that I’m in the house of a man who I don’t know that I’ve just fucked.

Shut up. Shut up, I chant in my head.

My shirt and pants are on before I know it. I hear his footsteps coming up from behind me, and I know he’s about to touch me, to ask me whatever it is he was saying.

I don’t care. I really, really, don’t care.

Grabbing the shiny doorknob of his apartment as his words threaten to break through, I turn the handle and walk as fast as I can out through the door. This is always the worse part for me, the aftermath of it all. It likes to play on repeat in my head as I make my way into my small house, tormenting me as I go.

Going straight to the shower I stand under it fully clothed letting the hot water scald me, as I start by removing each piece of clothing one at a time, wondering how long my depression is going to last after this one. The longest was a month before I was stupid enough to go back to it again and it all came back. It always comes back.

Grabbing the loofah, I start by scrubbing my skin so hard that it goes red and the pink raises to the point of almost blood. It’s become a ritual to feel somewhat normal after I fuck someone, but it never does the trick, it just leaves me in pain.

Everything runs rampant in my brain after I finish a shower and lay my body down.

Was it my mother?

Was it my first boyfriend?

I think they all played a major part in building the person I am today. I just can’t work out how exactly I’ve gotten to this point in my life. This crappy point, where I’m still the same messed up girl I was all those years ago.

Don’t you grow and learn?

Isn’t age meant to help you with that?

I feel like I’m in a never-ending spin with the devil, and every time I try to pull away, he pulls me back in and stakes his claim on me to do his bidding.

Well, fuck you, Devil, and the horse you rode in on.