Chapter 14 Marfil
I’d forgotten that Liam was coming over that night. Luckily, by the time he rang the doorbell, I had regained my composure and was able to act like nothing had happened between my bodyguard and me.
Don’t ask me why, but I didn’t tell Liam about the moment I’d shared with Sebastian.
Not because I was afraid of Liam’s reaction or was expecting him to disapprove, but because it was something I wanted to treasure all for myself.
Also, I was almost frightened by the intensity of what I’d felt.
The simple brush of Sebastian’s leg against the center of my body had given me more intense pleasure than my ex-boyfriend or any other guy I’d ever been with, and I’d done much more with them than with Sebastian.
No guy had ever given me an orgasm, even though I’d been obsessed with trying to find the one who could.
Not even Liam had been able to. I had thought I was incapable of having an orgasm, something that happens to a lot of women, feeling like there’s something wrong with them when they don’t feel the things they hear about in books, songs, and movies.
I’d finally accepted the fact, and it was another of the reasons why I didn’t want to go all the way with anyone.
Why should I let someone else enjoy my body if they couldn’t give me the pleasure I craved the most?
Did that sound selfish? Maybe so, but I had made up my mind.
And yet, kissing Sebastian had been like merging all of my previous experiences into one. Was it normal for a kiss to feel so intense? Was it common to feel the attraction I felt toward him? Did Sebastian feel the same way about me?
At least I could take satisfaction in knowing one thing for certain: Sebastian would be able to grant me that kind of pleasure, if there was any chance we ever took it far enough.
Liam stayed to watch a movie, and we ordered Chinese food.
He told me about his upcoming vacation plans and that he also had an offer for a new financial analyst position on Wall Street.
He was nervous, but I was sure they’d hire him, even though he told me that he didn’t plan to quit his night job as a club promoter.
He didn’t do it for the money, more so because he loved feeling like he owned the club, always surrounded by girls, and he wasn’t going to give up a position that had brought him so much pleasure.
And by pleasure, I mean women in his bed.
As time went on, I started to become more and more worried. Sebastian’s three-hour break should’ve ended long ago, and he still hadn’t come home. Eventually Liam had to leave, but he promised we’d see each other next week.
When he left, I felt totally alone, and even a little bit scared as I looked around the empty apartment.
What did Sebastian think of me? Had that kiss meant as much to him as it had to me?
Probably not.
Concluding that waiting by the door was pointless, I decided to get ready for bed. I had to lotion my tattoo again, but I’m sure I did a bad job because I couldn’t really reach. I needed his large, strong hands.
I got into bed, reliving the moment we’d shared in the bathroom, and I lay awake, waiting to hear him come home.
Finally, I must’ve fallen asleep.
When I opened my eyes on Monday morning, I felt butterflies in my stomach. I no longer got nervous about guys, but the thought of seeing Sebastian made me so excited, I felt nauseous.
I took a shower, trying again without much success, to wash and lotion the tattoo, then I slipped a lightweight dress over my head, with my favorite boots and a sweater over it.
I took a deep breath before going out into the living room.
Would he be in the kitchen, like always—with his cup of coffee in one hand and the newspaper beside him on the table?
I couldn’t be such a coward.
Come on, Marfil, act like you do with everyone. Be confident.
I walked out of my room and headed for the kitchen. There he was, standing facing the doorway as if he’d been waiting for me to appear. He looked so handsome that my mouth dried up.
Suddenly I felt the way I did when my father called me to his office to scold me for something. I remembered how it felt to have Sebastian’s body against mine, and I couldn’t help but blush like a little schoolgirl.
“Good morning,” I said in a weak voice.
Enough, Marfil. You’re a grown woman.
He didn’t answer, just turned his back to me and started doing something.
I got out my favorite mug, heated the milk, then stirred in some honey as I moved to my usual spot, deciding on what to say or whether to wait for him to speak, or to simply do it myself.
“That won’t happen again, Marfil,” he said, looking out the window, his back to me, cutting through the silence with a knife.
That wasn’t the greeting I’d been expecting. All night long I’d imagined different phrases coming out of his mouth, that mouth that had been literally on mine: We shouldn’t have done it. Your father is going to kill me. I could lose my job. But never That won’t happen again, Marfil.
How could he say that? Wasn’t he dying to do it again, to touch me everywhere, to devour me?
“I’d like for you to look at me when you speak to me,” I said, setting my cup on the counter.
He spun around, and what I saw in his face left me frozen. He looked like a fucking robot, impossibly cold and distant. There was no life, no emotion in those eyes, only ice.
“It was a mistake. I let myself get carried away by the situation.”
“What situation?” I was more scared of his response than any of the danger I was in.
“You know perfectly well the effect you have on men. I’m not made of stone, and you’re too attractive for your own good. I let you seduce me. I was an idiot, and I’m sorry. But I’m not going to put my job on the line for you.”
Wow. That hurt.
“So it’s my fault that you did what you did because I seduced you with my body that’s ‘too attractive for my own good’?”
Sebastian seemed unfazed by my sarcastic tone.
“You know what? For a second I thought maybe you’d be able to see beyond my looks, which apparently drive all the guys sooo crazy, according to you.
For a second I hoped I might hear something out of your mouth that made sense, instead of that bullshit you just spouted.
But I guess guys are all the same—you only think with your dick. ”
“What do you want me to say? That I’m in love with you like in one of those books you read? Don’t be such a little girl.”
I stood up, unable to believe what he’d just said. How the hell did he know what fucking books I read, and what did that have to do with anything? Also, had he just called me a little girl?
“I’d throw this mug at your head right now, milk and honey included.
But since I don’t want to give you any more reasons to call me a ‘little girl,’ I’ll just tell you that you’re an emotionless asshole, and that even if what happened last night was amazing, I have a long list of guys I can spend my free time with, guys who won’t run away scared like you did. ”
I didn’t wait for him to respond. I picked up my bag and my keys, then walked to the door. Sebastian, as always, followed me, but I chose to pay him no mind.
On the way to campus, I rode in the back seat because I didn’t want to let a rogue tear betray how much his words had affected me.
I felt humiliated, that was the word. He had made me feel like a fucking object, but the worst part was verifying that, just like every other guy, Sebastian saw nothing in me beyond my physical appearance.
I went through the next two days without saying a single word to him. I didn’t even want to see him. I was hurt by what he’d said to me, but I still felt the same intense emotions whenever he got too close, or whenever I simply laid eyes on him, which happened every time I left my fucking room.
Wednesday morning, however, I finally had to speak to him.
I’d had a terrible night, I felt sick and miserable, and I was freezing cold.
When I didn’t come out of my room to have breakfast and go to class, he came to check on me.
I ignored his knocks at my door, turning my face away and covering my head with the down comforter.
“Marfil?”
Yeah, that’s my name, asshole.
“Are you going to class?”
“No,” I tried to shout, but it came out as a hoarse groan.
I suppose he heard me because he didn’t bother me again until after seven o’clock that evening, when he knocked again. Receiving no response, he barged into my room without waiting for permission.
“I didn’t say you could come in. Get out,” I protested.
“You’ve been in here almost twenty-four hours. You haven’t even eaten. What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing,” I grunted, burrowing under the covers.
I could tell he was moving closer because I heard the sound of his shoes against my wooden floor. He gently pulled back the comforter, and I let out a whimper of pain.
He brushed my arm. “You’re burning up.”
I didn’t want to move. All I wanted was for him to leave me alone. I had a cold, so what? It was no big deal; I wasn’t going to die. And anyway, who was he to act all worried about me now?
“Sit up,” he practically ordered me.
“Go away, Sebastian. No one asked you to take care of me.”
He ignored me again, taking advantage of the fact that I was lying on my stomach and pulling up the back of my shirt.
“Shit, Marfil, it’s infected.”
“What is?” I grumbled weakly.
“Your tattoo, dammit.”
“What are you talking about?” I questioned angrily, pushing him away with the little force I could muster. “I cleaned it three times a day like they told me to.”
“Well, you didn’t do a very good job. I’m going to call a doctor.”
“Don’t even think about it. Leave me alone.”
He left, and I tried to go back to sleep. But a short while later, I heard the buzzer sound, and soon after, someone came into my room. I cursed Sebastian, but at least he had the decency to turn on the bedside lamp instead of the overhead light.
I felt horrible.
“Good evening, Miss Cortés. I’m Dr. Rockwood.”