We spent every waking moment that we weren’t working, together. He had even stopped working the night shift on the weekends after his discovery of me being scared out of my wits, worrying that someone was coming for me.
He kissed me. “Have I told you that I loved you today?” he asked.
“Maybe, but you can tell me again if you want,” I replied, kissing him back.
My mind drifted back to Drew a lot that night.
Even standing there in the kitchen, cutting up onions, I thought about Dawson telling me that he loved me several times a day. Drew had never once told me in six years that he loved me. The closest time that I, not him, had ever come close was late one night when he had just gotten back from someplace that I didn’t know. I never asked. I wasn’t allowed to know because it didn’t concern me. The one time that I did ask, he had told me that my business was to please him, and that was it.
I was already in my bed and was asleep when he crawled in beside me. It was the only time that I could ever remember him being somewhat gentle with me. He had kissed me a lot. He hardly ever kissed me when we had sex, but that night he kissed me deep and passionate.
He didn’t ask me to do anything and caressed me like he never had.
He didn’t tell me not to come, and when I was ready he was ready with me. He stared down at me attentively when we were finished, and brushed my cheek with the back of his hand. I kissed him softly and spoke.
“I could have loved you,” I said, and I could have.
“This isn’t about love,” he said, got off of me and left me there alone with my thoughts and fears.
The following morning he was back to being Drew, and demanded that I sit naked in his office, spread eagle on his sofa while he worked. I had to give him a blowjob under his desk while he did a video conference, and endure one of his spankings because he had masturbated me to orgasm and had told me not to come. I spent seven hours in his office that day, and he wouldn’t even let me dress when Rebecca brought in our lunch. He said she had seen me naked before and I sat there humiliated, waiting for her to leave.
After lunch he had decided that the sofa was too far away and made me sit on his desk with one foot on the floor and one on his desk. He worked the mouse on his computer, made phone calls, and even did a conference call about margin in a store in, Los Angeles, all while I sat there and let him penetrate me first with his fingers, than an ink pen, a letter opener, and when he would get bored he would go back to his job for a while. He would just nonchalantly pick something up, anything that he could push in and out of me while I sat quietly, letting him do what he wanted, waiting for the time that he would tell me that I could go.
My first dream that night was about Justin. He was around a year old. It was the middle of summer and extremely hot. He was sleeping beside me on my mattress on the floor. I had the windows rolled out and kept him covered with a sheet so that the mosquitos wouldn’t eat him during the night. I was wakened when my parents came home fighting. They always fought. I knew my dad hit my mom and could tell that she crashed into the table.
She never backed down though. She always gave it right back to him.
Justin had sat up, scared, and I rubbed his back and hummed a soothing tune, letting him know that I was there, and he was okay. I listened to my dad scream at my mom and call her a slut and a whore and how no other man would do what he was doing and raise some other man’s kid. I knew after they came and took Justin away from me that day. That was why it was so easy for my dad to let him go. He had a different dad than I did, but I didn’t understand when or how. I remembered when Justin was born and how happy my dad was that he had been a boy.
I sat up in bed with tears in my eyes, missing my little lost brother. I did do a lot better, and the dreams came less and less. Finding out that he had a nice home and parents who adored him, made it easier, but they still crept up every now and then. I looked over to Dawson. I hadn’t wakened him. Normally I would wake to him holding me and caressing me, talking me calm, and letting me know that he was there. I was there safe with him and wrapped in his arms. I touched his cheek with my hand. I was so blessed to have him. Any other man would have probably deemed me crazy and got the hell away from me as fast as he could. Dawson didn’t. He was always right there, and for the life of me I didn’t know why. He turned in and kissed my wrist.
“You okay?” he asked with closed eyes. I lay back down as he pulled me close to him.
Chapter 7
I dreamed about Drew more and more. He was haunting me, consuming my sleep, and I knew that it was flying to Las Vegas that weighed heavy on my mind. I was so thankful for Dawson, being there to talk me down after every time I woke panicked.