15. Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Fifteen
Lola
W hile I haven’t had the most talented sexual partners thus far, I have had a wide variety of different reactions following sex.
Most of the time, they hop out of bed and want to do something. Some of them go home. Sometimes, they want to watch a movie. Others need a cigarette.
Then you get the ones who are weird and almost demand that you get out of their bed and take a shower while they change the sheets.
Beckett must have some secret goal of hitting all the experiences I have never had because he does none of those things. This man goes to the bathroom and comes back with a warm, damp cloth and a towel. Before I can ask what is going on, he simply jumps in to clean our mess off me and gently dries me off.
I attempt to thank him, but he just crawls right back into the bed—still gloriously naked—and curls my body against his for a cuddle.
A fucking cuddle!
Yes, I had read about aftercare. No, I had never even remotely experienced it—I had certainly never been cuddled afterward! I sigh a little, and Beckett lets out a noise that is somewhere between a soft moan and a purr. Seconds later, I hear his soft snores and let the sound pull me under.
Waking up to the aromatic smell of potato leek soup is definitely one of my top five favorite ways to wake up. Toss in the fact that it's served to me in bed by a mostly naked man, and I am in my own little heaven.
He places a tray on the bed, folding out the little legs so that it becomes a table around my legs.
I know I am smiling like a fucking loon. I can't help it. No one has ever... cared for me like this. My heart thumps hard in my chest, and I swallow the panic. Adjusting my focus, I snag the piece of crusty bread and dip it into the soup. Steam comes off the soup, and as it hits my fingers, my brain does a tiny warning dance to let me know that I probably shouldn't put it in my mouth just yet.
Too bad I'm stupid when distracted.
Used to self-induced pain from putting things that are far too hot into my mouth—and no, I am not trying to be punny here—I school my features and chew the bite I casually plopped into my mouth. Other than the small bit of tears in my eyes, you would have no clue that my tongue is being flambéed right now.
From the corner of my eye, I watch as Beckett dips a small hunk of bread into the soup and pops it into his mouth. Unlike me, he clearly does not know how to fake calm. His eyes are nearly bugging out of his head as Beckett snaps his gaze to mine. He chews aggressively and swallows, but tears are falling down his cheeks.
"How did you eat that and not burn the inside of your mouth?"
I laugh a little, and without thinking, I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. "I'm used to swallowing pain." Both of us go silent as the gravity of my words set in, and when my eyes meet his, I see my pain reflecting back.
But there is no pity, no shame. Ultimately, that is what pushes me forward. It's what gives me the courage to say the things I haven't said to anyone. I open my mouth, and my horrible, painful tale begins to spill from my lips in gory detail. Becket sits quietly as I talk. He munches on the food periodically, and I notice that my motions mimic his. He is making sure I eat, even as I lay myself raw at his feet.
The one thing I promised myself never to do for another man ever again.
And yet...
This all just feels right.
Making sure to miss nothing, I start at the beginning. Back when I enjoyed Darick's company. I told him how we would talk and do all the things together, almost like best friends. I hadn't noticed how, even back then, he began pulling me from my friends. At the beginning of my senior year in high school, I had only two friends he approved of and wasn’t allowed to participate in the school extracurriculars I once enjoyed.
Sports were out because he didn't like the ones I played.
Art and band competitions were a ‘no’ because pieces took longer to make, and rehearsals took even longer. Which meant even more time away from him.
Right now, as I rehash all of the things, I realize how much he manipulated me even then. I did the things he wanted, and was friends with the people he approved of; he even took charge of buying me asstons of clothes so that he could dictate what I wore. I was still a baby back then, and I got lost to this predator. My entire senior year was nothing but a time in my life that revolved around someone else.
I was only eighteen years old when I became the victim of a crime that would last for the next two years of my young life.
Even a knight couldn't have saved me. I know that now.
I needed time to learn how to save myself.