Head On (Strength And Love)(8)
“You’ve got a good look at me now. Have a look for Ann Kilbride and you’ll see me in the pictures. I’ll leave you alone to have a think for five minutes.”
He heads out of the room and with a shaking hand, I pick up my phone and start to search for his sister. Soon a variety of headlines pop up and I click on the one from the local Herald Examiner. It’s a horrible story of a hit and run accident, the driver not found, the victim later dying in hospital, and sure enough, there’s a picture of his sister’s wedding day. And Ethan is there. Looking so handsome in a suit it’s ridiculous. I’ve never seen a man like him before. But then again, I do live a sheltered life.
“What do I need to pack?” I shout, mind made up. I’d rather spend a night in a house with these strangers than be terrified here all alone. I trust he is who he says he is, and his sister is going to be there with her kid for pity’s sake. If I stay here, I know I’ll be a terrified wreck. In the morning, I can make some better plans.
Footsteps sound and he’s back in the room.
“A couple of days worth of clothes, your toiletries, and anything else you need.”
“Can you give me twenty minutes?”
He nods, but then I remember Sadie.
“I can’t come!” Crap. I’m kind of more scared not to go with him now I’ve thought things through, but I can’t leave Sadie.
“Why not?”
“My dog.”
He smiles, white teeth glinting. “Bring her. I’ve got two dogs of my own. She’s more than welcome.”
Feeling even better about going with him if I can bring Sadie, I push the covers back and climb out of bed. As I head to the bathroom to pack my toiletry bag, I try to tell myself this is an adventure. I’ve been wanting to do something different for ages. I’d been cruising along in life being safe and boring for far too long.
My dad’s the best, but he smothers me sometimes. He’s so scared I’ll hurt myself or be hurt, he can be way overprotective. I understand it. After losing Mum, and then nearly losing me, twice, he’s got good reason to be the way he is. But between him and Gran, I’ve lived a sheltered life. And with the years I spent being sick, it means I’ve missed out on a lot of things. I want to start experiencing living, not simply existing, moving from one day to the next in my safe little bubble. I’d wanted an adventure, and you can’t get much more exciting than taking off with an ex-special forces soldier who now sells his body for a living.
When I get back to the bedroom, Ethan looks at me and blinks slowly, once. Dark lashes fan over deep blue eyes. I’m spellbound.
“You coming in your Victorian Ghost get-up, or are you going to change?”
And just like that the spell is broken. He might be beautiful, and lead an exciting life, but he’s a dick, and he has sex for money. He’s probably got knob rot or something. I chuckle to myself at my joke and he flashes me a puzzled look.
Great, he probably thinks I’m insane now. Although, why I should care what he thinks, I don’t know.
“I’m about to get changed. Will you wait for me downstairs?” I muster as much pride as I can and turn my back on him.
“See you in five minutes.”
Then he’s gone, hardly making a sound as he leaves the room. Those years in the special forces probably served him well when it comes to creeping about women’s houses, being a freaky pretend rapist.
As I rummage through my drawers, I ponder what kind of woman would pay a man to break into her house and rough-sex her? It’s so…messed up. I flush as I think about my own fantasies though. When I was about sixteen or so, I went through a phase of wanting to be taken as a sex slave by pirates. I’d read some book where the heroine was taken by pirates and kept by the Captain as his lover, sort-of-against-her-will-but-not-really. That book had started months of fantasies about being taken by a whole crew of pirates who’d use me for their pleasure as we sailed the world. Of course, they were all gorgeous. No one has rape fantasies about smelly, horrible men with dirty fingernails, and bad breath. That’s why they are called fantasies.
So, really, I shouldn’t be judgey about Ethan or his clients. I got over my rape fantasy stage, but I’ve always liked the idea of being held down, and maybe more. I’d quite like to get spanked. Don’t know where this little kink of mine comes from, because I don’t have Daddy issues or anything like that. I think it might be when I read some racy book I found one day in Mum’s drawer. I’d snuck off with it and read all about this girl who lived with two men who were always disciplining her, and it used to make me all tingly and funny between my legs.
I still sometimes get that book out, if I’m going to have a session with my trusty vibrator. That’s on the days when I don’t go looking on my favourite Tumblr sites.
I may be the world’s least innocent virgin.
Finally packed, I shove all thoughts of pirates and spankings out of my mind and compose myself. I head downstairs to go find Sadie, now to be officially renamed, The World’s Worst Guard Dog.
She’s fast asleep in one of her favorite spots by the kitchen radiator. She must have got off the bed in the night and come down here. She tends to roam the house a bit these days. I glare at her a moment, but I can’t be angry with her. She’s an old girl now. She’s eleven and doesn’t hear too good anymore.