Crush(60)

“And you’re happy?”

“More happy than I’ve ever been in my life. I like that someone else makes the decisions for me. With the hecticness of my job, it’s so much less stressful for me. I ask permission and he decides if I should receive it. I need something and he takes care of it. Sometimes, I let him bind me and he gives me earth-shattering sex. And once in a while, I misbehave just so he can punish me.”

Her honesty didn’t shock me but it did surprise me. I was glad she felt comfortable enough around me to admit her feelings. Before I could say anything, her phone started to ring.

“Here, hold this,” she said, and handed me the card she had just picked up so she could dig in her purse. On the front was a picture of man holding his erection, and the caption read, “Talk dirty to me, baby. I need to get off.”

I stared at it and an unwanted memory flashed before me.



The surgery had been arranged.

My sister had reluctantly agreed to donate one of her kidneys to my mother. They were a perfect match. I was a match, but not as well matched as my sister.

Both my sister and mother were to arrive at the hospital early in the morning. It was the night before and I was sitting at the kitchen table, doing my homework. My mother was sitting beside me, watching me. She was weak, feeble, but optimistic she would get better.

My sister was supposed to have come home for dinner but never did.

It was just after ten when the door opened. Boots clunked inside and my heart fell. It wasn’t my sister.

My mother scurried from her chair to get my father’s dinner.

“I’ll get it, Mom. You sit down.”

She smiled at me. She had allowed me to do more and more for her over the past year. Grocery shopping, dinner, dishes, cleaning. All of her duties that my father expected but she had a hard time keeping up with.

He came into the room and set his gun on the counter before he looked around.

“Where’s Elizabeth?”

“She’s not home yet,” I answered quickly.

Anger flared in his eyes. He turned around and went back toward the door. I heard him lock it and latch the chain. Lizzy would have to call and apologize before he’d let her in. I hated nights like this.

His steps were louder this time as he came back into the kitchen. “What are you still doing up, Gabrielle?” he asked, his tone stern.

“I had to finish my homework, sir,” I answered, as I removed the foil from his carefully covered plate.

“Leave it. I already ate. I need to talk to your mother. Go on to bed.”

I couldn’t tell if he’d been drinking.

My eyes shot to my mother.

She nodded.

With that, I covered the plate and put it back in the refrigerator before I went to my room.

When he locked my door, it was a surprise. It had been a while since he’d done that.

“Susan,” he called.

Her steps were feeble as she came down the hall.

“I’m going to take a shower and then I want to talk to you.”

Doors opened. Closed. And then silence.

I lay on my bed, squeezing my eyes shut, hoping, praying, he was going to leave her alone tonight. All I heard was silence. I must have fallen asleep because I awoke to that god-awful thudding of the headboard more than an hour later.

“Talk to me, Susan. Tell me you like what you see.”

If my mother was responding, I couldn’t hear her.

“That’s it. Keep talking. Tell me you like to see my hands on my own cock. Tell me it turns you on. Gets you wet.”

Again, if my mother was talking, I couldn’t hear her.

“That’s it, baby. I’m so close. Tell me to move my hands faster. Fuck myself harder. Talk dirty to me, baby.”

At fifteen, I was so much more aware of things than I had been years ago. I knew he was jerking off in front of her. And sadly, I was just thankful he wasn’t making her have sex with him.

The phone started to ring.

“Ignore it. She’ll call back. Keep talking to me, baby. I need this. I need this from you.”

The phone kept ringing.

His moans told me he was starting to climax even through the incessant ringing.

Soon, though, all was quiet. Even him.

I had fallen back asleep.

The phone started to ring again and woke me. This time when I looked at the time it was close to three A.M.

“Yeah,” he barked into the phone.

Silence.

“Fuck. I’ll be right there.”



My eyes flashed to the card again. Maybe it was because my sister’s death was still fresh in my mind that I had to fight back the urge to cry. My family was such a f*cked-up thing. And my daddy issues would never allow for me to be submissive with any man.

“Yes, baby, I understand. Sure. I can do that. Have fun,” Lindsay said.

Her words drew my attention.

Silence.

Her cheeks flushed. “Me too.”

With her phone in her hand, she dug into her purse again, and this time pulled out her keys and looked at me. “Molly’s is closing so it can reopen to the public later tonight. James suggested you and I take the car back to the hotel and he and Logan will take a cab back later.”

“Oh,” I said, a little surprised that Logan hadn’t called me to tell me himself, but then I remembered why. “I have to go back there—my purse is locked up in the backroom along with my phone.”