Lilyanna
Sun-splashed into my eyes as it spilled into the room. The cool air caressed my exposed breast, and I found that the sheet and comforter were pushed down slightly.
Turning, I looked at the pillow next to me and find it empty with no head pressed against it and no gentle breaths caressing my face. No warmth.
He was gone, and I wasn’t sure when exactly he had left. I wouldn’t admit it to anyone, myself included, that it hurt like a searing blade to the gut.
My fingers brushed at my eyes as water leaked from them. No, I wasn’t crying. I tell myself that those aren’t tears. Grabbing the edge of my black comforter with its swirls of gray, white and red I shove it aside roughly. A little too rough.
I hated the slew of emotions weighing me down like a stone was tied to my foot and I was sinking into the deep murky water. I swear I felt like it was filling my lungs and was trying to remove me of my air supply. It was crushing my need to breathe.
I reached into the third drawer of my glossy black dresser, not liking its shiny polished exterior, which looked a little too cheerful. I pulled out a pair of black yoga pants and a black stretch tight to the skin tank top and pulled them over my body. I didn’t bother with panties, I hated panty lines.
What happened last night? Cole was sitting in my locked house acting like he belonged like a piece of furniture that I failed to place on my shopping list. He was dressed in black jeans and a black hooded sweatshirt.
I remember the way the black t-shirt was stretched to its limits under his sweatshirt. It showcased his muscular frame, and my chest tightened at the thought while my heart rate spiked.
I was panting as I made my way into the kitchen. My eyes locked on the table like it was a heat-seeking missile and I was its target. My eyes grew big as vivid images of last night flashed through my mind.
It took a lot of effort to pull my attention from it and head to the coffee pot. Pressing the button to begin the brew, I listened to it percolate.
The dark brew dripped slowly then turned into a thin stream as it filled the pot. The kitchen began to fill with the dark, strong, and delicious scent.
My muscles ached in places I had no idea they could. My pussy throbbed painfully and yet sparks of pleasure were left in its wake.
Reaching for a cup, I placed it on the counter and turned to the fridge to grab the light creamer. My eyes stayed on the task as I purposely pretend that the table didn’t find a new purpose last night.
What was I going to do? Wait for him to break in again and let him fuck me against some other flat surface in the kitchen? Maybe we could upgrade to the couch, I snark to myself.
A small amount of self-loathing wanted to intrude, but I pushed it back. I remembered that other women may want flowers and candles, but I don’t. I wouldn’t trade that night in the kitchen with Cole. He broke through my barrier and made me scream his name for the first time for anything.
God, I’m pathetic. Soon I’ll be stalking his every movement hoping for a chance encounter, latching onto him like an anchor of dead weight. I’ll be one of those women who doesn’t get the hint that he’s just not that interested.
Except he keeps coming back, that stupid voice cries. It wails in my head like a child who just lost her scoop of ice cream and watched as it falls to the ground and melts.
My hands wrapped around the coffee cup pulling it up to take a small, testing sips. I then realized I needed to add a little more sugar and another few drops of cream.
Quickly adding them to the cup, I pulled it up for another sip and sighed as heaven caressed my tongue. My feet pad across the floor and out the front porch screen door.
A little jewel covered hummingbird darts in front of me, scaring me as it came close to taking out my eye. Its wings were beating hard as it leaned in close to the feeder. The bird’s little feet were holding onto the fake flower petal as it took deep fortifying sips of the feeder’s sweet nectar.
My bare feet tiptoe gently on the smooth, cool wood surface of the porch. My ass lands hard on the porch swing, almost hard enough to spill my coffee.
My eyes close as I take another sip from the cup filled with warm bliss. If only life could be this perfect. Cole’s scent still clung to my skin dragging me back to last night and the way he played my body.
Fighting off the needed to find him and beg for more, I let my mind wander.
The list popped into my head and intruded on my thoughts of Cole, which were trying to consume me.
I needed to cross another name off, but this time, it was a name that I had added. The name was of another person that took me. He showed me what terror really tasted like. Now, it was time that I returned the favor.
I’m sure by now they knew what was coming. Uncle Lark killed a lot of the men at the house, but he missed the ones that were there and then left. No one touched me like that, but they had terrified me with stories of what was to come, of what the market was like for someone like me.
Anger and disgust swirled in my stomach. My nausea felt like vomit was bubbled up like a pan of boiling water. Tonight, I was going to kill that bastard. The one who leaned in and rubbed his nose in my hair. He took a deep breath and laughed as I cried. He was the last man standing, and I was going to enjoy every fucking moment as I gutted him and watched the light leave his shit brown eyes.