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Two Lines

I had the greatest wild dream in my 24 years of existence. Twice my dream guy woke me from my sleep, only to worship me with his marvellous body. He would kiss me on my shoulders up to my neck, then he would nuzzle the juncture of my neck, nipping and sucking me. He would kiss me passionately, his tongue invading my mouth. Then after a second, he was inside me; he would move slowly at first, then faster, the he'd empty himself inside me between my legs spread apart.

I felt myself smile. Hmm... What a very nice and erotic dream. I shifted on the bed, then I stretched. The movement made me winced then stopped stretching. Damn, I felt... Uncomfortable... In my private area... Why− my eyes brusquely opened wide, not even flinching with the light coming from the window. The dream was true! It was f*****g true! My dream guy was Dylan Claude! I quickly sat up, my head throbbed and my muscles protested at the sudden move. Crap, I was naked! The activity last night flashed in my head. I was drunk... then I spilled the whiskey on me... Dylan lent me his suite... The dress was ruined... Then he came... I drank again... then he kissed me... Then− Holy mother of all f**k. I grabbed the sheets, covering it to myself. Dammit, I was still in the same suite! Dylan was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he was gone. I stilled myself, feeling all the possible ache that would come from my body. My southern zone was really uncomfortable, or should I rather say I was sore? Damn, so this was the feeling. Get your ass out of here! My subconscious yelled at me. I scrambled to get out of the bed, pulling the sheets with me, when Dylan came out of the bathroom. He was dressed with a long sleeved dress shirt, one button unfastened, the sleeved rolled up before his elbows, the thin material was clinging to his torso, making his muscular chest and abs palpable. He was also in a black jeans and Chukka. Also, his hair was slightly wet, maybe he just have showered, his curly blonde was messy in an oh-so-sexy way. As he walked, his gazed was fastened to me, his mouth in a thin grim line. s**t, he didn't looked like he was pleased with our activities yesterday. Maybe you haven't pleased him quite enough.

I stayed at the edge of the bed, tightly gripping the sheets to me. As I moved further, something caught my eye. Stains. Blood stains. Blood stains on the bed sheet. Evidence of my lost virginity. Holy f**k. My eyes widened, my jaws dropped on the floor. Reality hit me, I just given myself to the person I barely even knew. And he was a CEO. My subconscious gaped at me.

"Why the f**k didn't you tell me?" he snapped, his voice low, angriness obvious. Oh s**t. I slowly looked at him, his green eyes gave nothing away. Shitshitshit. I thought I lost my tongue. Bring your smart mouth out now, b***h.

"Tell you what?" I feign innocence, then I grimaced. His expression was deadly.

"Cut the f*****g rubbish! Why the f**k didn't you tell me you were a virgin!" He wasn't asking a question; he was telling it. Dammit, I was shocked too!

"I− I was drunk. And you haven't asked." s**t.

He scoffed. But he wasn't amused. "So you're telling me it was my fault? I was f*****g plastered too! And you were up to it!" he yelled. What should I say? What should I say?

I bit my lip. "I was just carried away..." My voice faded as I saw his beautiful face. It was expressionless, just like the normal, cold-hearted CEO images in the internet. "You did this on purpose, didn't you?" What? What the hell was he saying? He stepped closer to me, but I had got nowhere to go. "Well, sorry to tell you, Ms. Brooks. I don't give a damn deflowering you." He leaned to me. "Now, listen here." He held my shin, tipping my head back so we were eye to eye.

"Don't you dare tell to the whole Seattle that I raped you, if that's what on your mind right now. You agreed to it. But if you still do, I don't give a damn. I will track you wherever the hell you are, and my lawyers will do their job. The last thing you will want to do is to see me in the court."

His voice was deep and seductive, yet there was a grieve danger to it. I was inaudible. After a second, he crushed his lips to me, making me wince with the pain. It was brutal. No passion at all. He sucked my lower lip and bit me. Hard. My mouth tasted blood. I could smell his scent, so manly. Just as I was about to savour the punishment kiss, his lips left mine, only turning to my neck. He grabbed the side of my head, bringing my face closer to his, then I felt his nose just below my ear. He inhaled deeply. Then he stood up and stepped backward, leaving me abashed, mouth opened.

"You can leave the suite anytime." With that, he turned to the door, the closed it with an unnecessary force. It rattled. What. The. Hell. Did. Just. Happened.

It took me some moment so absorb everything. Did he just seriously warned me about spreading rumours about him? What the hell? And if I did, he would press charges to me? f*****g hell. I couldn't believe this. I quickly ran to the comfort room, not caring if I was bucked naked. Damn him.

I quickly showered and dry my hair, then a paper bag on the sofa caught my attention. I looked inside it then gasped. Holy hell. There was a dark blue blouse, shorts, and a pair of lingerie. I looked at the paper bag again− Gucci! Damn, this must cost a fortune, more than my monthly pay-checks! That Claude must be really that rich. But, I won't see him again. It was just a one night stand. No big deal. I was pretty sure that my mom would kill me if she knew this, but I wasn't that i***t to tell her my explorations. I donned the clothes, surprisingly it fitted me just fine; the blouse suited my shoes. I quickly grabbed my purse in the bedside table and glanced around, the undergarments I wore the other night was nowhere to be seen. Huh, weird. I glanced at the bed. Well, the covers and duvet was crumpled; obviously the bed screamed "someone had s*x here".

I stormed out of the bedroom, I really wanted to go home. Back in the living room, I was surprised by a well-built man, he must be in his mig-30s, he was in a crisp black suit, and he was standing near the door, obviously waiting for someone. Or me. Yep, he was expecting for me.

"Ms. Brooks." He announced formally.

"Yes?"

"I'm Lewis. I am to see you home." He said, his gaze nit leaving mine. See me home? I could take care of myself.

I pursed my lips. "Uh, thanks but no thanks. I'll be fine." I replied then smiled. His expression gave away nothing, like Dylan. "No ma'am. I had instructions. I am to see you home." He said once more. Geez, orders.

"There will be no need..." My voice trailed off at the sight of him. This Lewis guy looked like he didn't take a no. I sighed. It would also save me the taxi fare too.

"Okay, then." I simply said.

"After you, ma'am." He said then he stepped aside, gesturing me to walk ahead of him. Did he really have to call me "ma'am"? It made me feel superior when I was actually not. I brushed off the thought. I was in a hurry to get home.

We were standing at the entrance of the hotel, and I kept fidgeting on Lewis's side. He remained cool and passive. After a second, a huge, black BMW stopped in front of us. Holy cow! This was the car that I saw in movies! Lewis opened the passenger door for me, but I remained frozen. I looked at him questioningly and pointed the car with my forefinger, then pointed it to myself. He simple nodded. I glanced to my back. Maybe he was referring to someone. But the people behind me has the same expression as me. He's asking you to climb in, i***t! I quickly climb in, endeavouring the leather sits, but I kept my hands to myself. I was enjoying the interior of the car when I realised that I haven't given him the direction to my apartment. I was about to open my mouth, when he took a left turn at I5, then I realised that he already knew where I was living. Thank God there was no traffic. He parked outside my apartment.

"Um, Lewis?" I asked. s**t, I was calling him Lewis; we're not even friends!

"Ma'am?" he looked at me in the rear view mirror.

"Who told you to see me home?"

He paused. "Mr. Claude has given me the instructions, ma'am."

Holy s**t! Claude? Why? What for? He has given me a ride to home as a thank you for the one night stand? Damn him! My eyes narrowed. "Well, thank you for the lift, Mr. Lewis. But tell Mr. Claude for me that I don't need his assistance!" I snapped, then climbed out of the car, and closed the door with too much force. I stormed to my apartment, digging the keys to my purse, then once inside, I slumped into the sofa. Geez, I still felt sore. I stared at the ceiling, relishing the last night's activities. Damn, it was a hot s*x. Too good for my first time. Too bad I had no plans in seeing him again. Even in hell.

Five weeks later.

Damn. No. No. No. Holy f*****g hell. It can't be. This must be joke. s**t. s**t. s**t! My eyes were glued to the little white stick in my hands. This can't be serious. Two lines meant... No. This was bullshit. This was already my 3rd stick, and it gave me the same goddamned results.

I hugged my knees and bowed my head. Tears were steaming down to my cheeks and sobs slowly escaped me. "No." I whined. I shook my head. Why hadn't I thought of this? From the very start? You're a one hell of an i***t, Veronica! s*x with no protection? Really? You just carried away with the heat? Not even asking him for a condom? You thought he would be sterile? Well, now you'd know that he's not! My subconscious roared at me.

A baby. No. I couldn't. I still have shits that needed to be sorted out. Should I tell him? Would he accept it? There's only one way to know...