Withstanding the Enemy

Fourteen

Emma…

These feelings are foreign,

Beyond my comprehension;

Too thick for absorption;

My mind distortion;

Stopping my respiration,

With all the flirtation,

Begging for clarification.

Feelings of fascination,

Keep breaking my concentration,

With thoughts of passion.

The depths of attraction,

almost making me madden

Can you imagine,

If I called you handsome.

Would you proceed with caution,

Teaching me in moderation,

layers of compassion?

My first orgasm…

Dropping my pen, with the last line. Emma! I couldn’t believe I was having thoughts about s*x after I’d promised myself to never want a man in that way. My first and only experience with a man—Rick—was horrifying. The pain still resonates through my bones when I think about him taking my virginity away.

My thoughts automatically drift to the romance novels, I love to read. They make it sound pleasurable which makes me question if it could be like that for me. Or maybe it is all made up and the act of s*x is supposed to be painful and only enjoyable for men.

The door in my bedroom flies open and my heart skips a beat as I quickly slam my journal shut and look up to see Rick in the doorway—shutting the door behind him.

“Good morning, My Love,” he says as he walks toward the bed.

I stand, hug my journal to my body and look up to him. “Good morning.”

“I will be home all day working. You will be staying here so we can have time together and start going over plans,” he says as he puts his hands on my shoulders.

His eyes fall to my journal. “Is something wrong?” he asks coldly as he eyes me questionably.

I quickly change my demeanor and wrap my arms around him in a hug. “I was just missing you. So many things have been changing, it is just making me feel a bit off.”

He pulls me to his chest and the woodsy musk that I recognize as Rick, wafts around me. The recollection of something familiar oddly comforts me and soothes my nerves.

This is RICK…

But the familiarity of how our bodies fit perfectly together stirs my center. And my body heat kicks up a notch.

No, Emma … this is RICK… I remind myself. RICK!

“What do I owe this pleasure?” he asks as he rubs his hands up my back in a gentle caress. A vibration ripples through me.

Oh God…

The craziness from the last few days feels as if it is melting away in his arms. I look up to his face and lock onto his lips. I want to kiss him… The realization hits me like a train as I find myself leaning into him. What in the f**k am I doing? I think as I try to stop myself. I look away trying to regain my composure. Why do I feel this way? This is Rick!

He kisses my cheek before releasing me. I hate myself for my involuntary desires. Really, Emma, kissing RICK…? Get a grip on yourself!

I flop down on the edge of the bed. Rick… I feel the bed shift as he sits down beside me.

“What’s bothering you today?” he asks again sounding concerned.

Could I really have feelings for Rick…? A chill breaks over my skin and I shiver.

I watch him quietly pick up my journal. Using his other hand, he brings my right hand to his lips and kisses the back tenderly before he rubs it against his cheek. The stubble of his five-o’clock shadow scratches against my skin, rough but gentle, warmth rockets through me. Yep … I’m feeling something … like I want him.

“What is going on in that head of yours, Love?”

Not with Rick. I can’t want Rick! Remember what the first time with Rick was like … remember … but there it is … a seed size of desire… s**t!!

“I'm just confused. I'm sorry.”

“You can always talk to me. Please, what is it?”

The compassion that threads through his voice causes me to look up. I wasn't sure I was still talking to Rick. My eyes search his and I watch his hazel eyes pour into me with thick emotion.

“Umm…” I think for a moment. “I don't know how to explain it.”

Was Rick always like this—this compassionate? Or am I just now seeing it?

“If you can't explain then I'm sure this can,” he says before opening my journal.

I curl my arms around me as I watch Rick flip to the last page. I feel exposed— naked—as he reads the poem. Then fear courses through me. What if he makes the connection to Chance?

But is it about Chance? Or could it be about Rick? I think as I squeeze my eyes shut, closing out reality. I just want to drift away. My heart and soul are scribbled on those pages—the pages in his hands! Why do I have to write ALL my emotions? All the times I hated Rick—I wrote it down. All the times that I thought…

I feel his large presence move in front of me and his long fingers skim up my thighs causing a wave of heat to my core, bringing me back to reality.

I feel him on his knees before me as he pushes closer, separating my knees he moves his hands and grips my hips, gently digs his fingers in, he pulls me to him. I hold my breath—wishing I could stop my body’s reaction.

“Emma, please look at me,” he says in a soft but demanding tone.

I open my eyes and slowly look up, I see his black trousers with a matching belt. His dark grey button up shirt tucked in at the waist. I continue up to his wide chest, where he has the top few buttons undone, exposing a tuff of dark black curls and smooth tan skin.

He is so … so handsome, I think as I focus on his face. Rick is a good-looking man in his own right with a dark shadow covering his strong chin, narrow nose, and salt-pepper hair. His hazel eyes shine with softness—surprising me.

As his lips move to form words, I find myself staring at them again.

“Emma, it's normal to be confused. Desire can be overwhelming to the point it’s uncontrollable. That is how my desire is with you. My desire for YOU is hard to control. Just like my love…”

Can I learn to LOVE this man…?

“I have been waiting for you to feel that same desire for me. In your poem, you said, ‘to proceed with caution and in moderation.’ I promise you that. I know that I haven’t in the past and that is one of my biggest regrets. I want you to demonstrate your desires at the pace you feel comfortable with. And I know it will be better than satisfaction, we will be earth shattering together, My Love.”

Holy s**t, he thinks the poem is all about him.

His desire burns bright in his eyes as he pulls me to the edge of the bed and pushes himself to the junction of my thighs. He seamlessly glides his hands up my back as he kisses my neck causing a bolt of unwanted shivers down my spine followed by another bolt of white-hot fire that hits my core causing me to bite back a throaty sound.

As if reading my body’s reaction, he draws his hips deeper into the junction of my thighs with urgency—parting them further. A low burning flame sparks deep within me as he glides his hips up my center. I feel the power of his arousal which demands acknowledgment as he glides it up my center again, this time stopping at my clit—as if pouring gasoline to the small flame. My whole body ignites.

Ohh... OH s**t!

I plant my hands on his hard chest, wanting it to stop before having to recognize the authenticity of my body’s reaction.

“I'm … I’m not ready… s**t…” I blurt out, stumbling over my words. I hide my face in his chest taking in his woody scent.

“What can I do to help you be ready?” he says after clearing his throat.

His body’s tension is unmistakable. With my head on his chest, I find the strong beating of his heart oddly comforting. Its strength gives me confidence.

“I'm scared,” I whisper.

He wraps his arms around me and pulls me tighter. The heat of his chest warms me, easing my shaken reality. I want him.

“I will wait for you. I have learned, I cannot force you into wanting me. I will NEVER force you to be with me again…You have the power.”

I have the power…

Rick is sitting at the head of the table with the paper in his hands when I walk in. He curls the corner of the page as he watches me enter the dining room. “Your five minutes late,” he reprimands me.

“Sorry, I was checking in with Ms. May to see if she needed any help with breakfast,” I say taking my seat to the right of him.

“There is a reason they are called hired help.”

Brutus walks in caring our trays of food. He sets our plates down and I thank him before he quietly leaves.

“Enjoy, we have much to go over this morning.”

“Mm mm….” I moan in appreciation. Ms. May has out done herself again. The French toast is beautifully arranged on the plate with a mix of colorful fruit on the side. Strawberries being one of my favorites, I pick one up using my fork and bite into it. The juice blasts into my mouth and I close my eyes savoring the sweet taste.

“One of these days, I would love to feed you … in bed,” he says in a husky voice, almost making me choke on the succulent fruit. I cover my mouth and began coughing from the shock of his directness.

Rick slams his fork down angrily, making me jump back. In a low growl, “Where is the ring I gave you?”

“Oh … I … I took it off yesterday… I … I have it in my bedroom. I will go get it.” I jump up but he grabs me by the arm and brings me back to my seat.

“Why are you not wearing it?”

“I was afraid to lose it,” I say thinking of the first thing that comes to mind.

He tosses all the plates in one swift motion—knocking them to the floor before he ejects from his seat and storms out.

Now that’s the Rick I know … this Rick I can handle. I know how to feel… Fear!

Shakily, I stand and begin to clean up the mess. Fear him, Emma … you can’t love him!

Brutus comes in to help. “Ms. Andrews, are you okay?”

“Yes, I'm sorry, Brutus.” My voice cracks.

“Emma, your room now!” Rick’s voice echoes from the doorway.

I look up to Brutus—frozen.

“Go,” Brutus whispers.