“That was as close as he had,” Dawson smiled down at me.
It was close enough to a slow song that would allow me to be in his arms as we danced across the blacktop dance floor.
“You seem to be a little distracted today,” I said, looking up to him.
“I guess, I kind of am, but we’ll talk about it later,”
he smiled down at me and kissed the end of my nose.
“Talk about what?” I asked curious as to what could be on his mind.
“We’ll talk about it later,” he smiled a reassuring smile.
We sat at the table and watched the people dancing. I too was distracted, wondering what Dawson could want to talk about. I stared blankly toward the dancers as my mind wandered back to Drew and my own dancing coach.
Drew had wanted me to learn to dance so that whenever he thought that I was ready to be in public and wouldn’t embarrass him I would be able to dance as gracefully as he could. I had been working with Jaymas Wellington, a retired Broadway star. I was on my third week with him, and we were in the open end of the gym. I didn’t know that Drew had returned. He had been gone for nearly three weeks.
Jaymas and I were doing a spin and were laughing and really doing more goofing off than anything. I liked him a lot, probably more than I should have. It was nice to have someone to talk to. We didn’t talk about anything personal. I knew everything I said could be heard by Drew anytime he wanted. I had just slid down Jaymas’s body after the spin, and we were both laughing when I lost my balance and fell to the floor. We stopped dead in our tracks when Drew entered with a look of pure anger.
“Leave!” he demanded through gritted teeth to Jaymas.
Jaymas left, telling me that he would see me later.
He didn’t see me later, and I never saw him again. Drew walked up to me and took me in his arms and started dancing me around the floor.
“You like flirting with other men?”
“I wasn’t flirting with anyone,” I demanded.
“That’s not how I was seeing it. It looked to me like you were enjoying being in another man’s arms.”
“We were dancing. You’re the one that made me take lessons,” I reminded him.
“Do you like him rubbing his dick all over you?”
“You’re impossible,” I demanded and took the blow to the same cheek that he seemed to always go for.
He grabbed my arm and dragged me out of the gym. I looked at Rebecca as I was being forced into his office.
She gave me a warm encouraging smile, but it wasn’t too reassuring to me. I had only been in Drew’s office once, in the five months that I had been there, and that was on our wedding day. I wasn’t allowed in that room, and it was kept locked unless he was in it.
“Get out!” Drew said to the two guys with folders and some sort of brochures in their hands.
“Drew, you have to make a decision on this ad,”
Derik argued.
“That one,” he demanded, pulling one of the pamphlets from his hand without looking at it.
Drew locked the door, and I was scared, more than I ever had been with him. He was angry, and I didn’t know what he was going to do to me. That day was the beginning of my suddenly allowed office visits.
“Take your clothes off,” he demanded, and then yelled, “NOW!” when I hesitated.
I removed my practice shorts and shirt as he watched with crossed arms. He nodded when I didn’t move, beckoning me to take off my bra and panties, as well.
“You know that I am about to beat your ass like I never have, don’t you?”
“Why?” I asked. I hadn’t done anything wrong.
He was in my face in a split second. “You do not ask the questions, got it?” he asked, squeezing my nipple so hard that it burned.
“Bend over my desk,” he demanded. I did. I had to.
I panicked when I heard the belt being pulled through his belt loops. It reminded me of when my dad used to whip me with his belt, and I remembered how bad it hurt.
I couldn’t hold still after the first crack across my bare cheeks. It hurt way worse than I remembered from my dad. He shoved me back to the desk and delivered four more blows before he finally quit, only because his desk phone wouldn’t stop ringing.
He pulled me with him and bent me over the other side while he talked business with someone on the other end. I was sobbing, and although I knew there was no blood, it sure as hell felt like it. He rubbed the inflamed welts on my ass, and it was soothing as he sat in his chair, conversing as if I wasn’t bent bare butt over his desk.
I flinched a little when I felt him slide his finger into my vagina. He swatted me lightly across my backside with a warning. I didn’t understand my body, at all. How could I go from sobbing to wanting to press into him deeper? I could tell that I was building and so could he.
He put the phone to his chest and bent to my ear.