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I yelp in outrage as this…stranger - I don't even know him anymore - lifts the back of my towel, pushing the terrycloth up over the roundness of my backside until I have no protection from the waist down. Everything is bare. And what’s worse, the way he positioned us on the bed has his knee wedged between my thighs with one of my legs under his. He has me good and trapped.
The sound reaches me first, the sharp crack of skin smacking skin. Then the shock. It isn’t that it hurt at all. It’s the indignation of being treated like a fucking child. “Bennet…are you even listening to me, you jerk?”
Another pop comes on the other cheek and another and another. He switches sides every time he smacks me so both sides of my ass are too warm, and oversensitive. And…more.
It’s the ‘more’ that makes me want to pull away from him, to put space between us, enough space you could float a boat in it. The Titanic. It’s the ‘more’ that makes my heart race and the flesh between my legs feel funny. It’s what makes Bennet a stranger now.
Yeah, I’ve known this boy since I was ten years old, but this is not the same boy I used to run around with and spend my days playing with. This isn’t Bronte’s brother or Missy’s son. This is a man who is…in charge of not just himself but me too. This manis bossy and handsy and a little scary because of the things he can do to my body and the things he can make me feel.
It’s not just Bennet from my past, it’s someone new I’ve never met before, both of us realizing and introducing ourselves in different ways.
“Bennet, god damn you, stop this right now. Please!”
It does no good, he’s not listening to me. He isn’t stopping this humiliating and mortifying act. I’m just going to have to lay here and take it. Ride it out until he’s done with me. Pray that he doesn’t realize what’s happening to my body, to the swollen flesh between my thighs. Pray that this isn’t the end for me.
If he finds out what is going on with me there is no way I can try to deny what is happening. Once he does, there will be no hiding my crush from him, no more pretending it isn’t real. And once he finds out, I’ll have to leave. There is no way I can stay. No way I could watch the sad, sympathetic look in Te and Missy’s eyes or the mocking that would come from girls like Jayden, who would rip me apart every time she saw me. All the hopes and dreams I had of coming back here will be dead.
The smacks come in a steady rhythm of volleys, but they aren’t the thing that hurts me. The thing that has tears coming to my eyes is the fact I am so close to losing everything…all because I can’t control this stupid infatuation with my best friend’s brother. The thing that has me finally breaking down and sagging in surrender is the fact that even though this is a different version of Bennet than my childhood friend, I still have no hope of being with him. No future to build, no chance that a man like him would give me the time of day if I wasn’t close to his sister.
And what about the phantom strangler that popped out of nowhere? Who the hell was he? How did he get in? I know for sure I locked my fucking door and still someone broke in. It’s another humiliation that comes out as scalding tears. Bennet was right about everything. I’m too everything to be in a place like this, too soft, too short, too young, too small as he mentioned. Too freakin’ naïve and too much of a dreamer too.
Whatever fucked up thought that led me to think I could do this - come back, build a life while watching the man I love choose a bride and have babies as I shrivel and rot, and finally have a home that I could leave to someone as my legacy - all of it is just a stupid pipe dream. And that’s the thing that breaks my heart. That is the thing that finally has me crying my heart out into the comforter I bought just for my new home. That is the thing that leaves me gasping as my heart breaks completely.
It takes me a minute to realize that Bennet has stopped spanking me and now sits rubbing my tender backside. I turn my head so I can drag in fresh air as the touch of his hand registers in my head as something dangerous.
“It’s alright, Rory. It’s all going to be okay. I’ll take care of you. I’ll protect you and keep you safe.”
I wince at the words; thankful he didn’t promise. I would hate to be the reason he breaks his word for the first time in his life. I know he won’t feel the same when he finds out my dirty little secret. In fact, I would understand if he started questioning everything about me over the years and finding it disturbing to think that I was a little bit of a stalker and lots of times I was also sleeping in the same house. Then I’ll lose Te too.
“Oh baby…”
Oh shit!
Chapter Twelve
Bennet
When the princess in my lap stops fighting and sags against me, I stop spanking and start rubbing. I can see her shoulders silently shaking even if I can’t look at her face just yet. She’s got it buried in the cover for right now.
I was thirteen when I realized Rory doesn’t cry like a normal girl. We were on the back porch playing together and I was doing my usual roughhousing when things went too far, and my sweet girl fell off the side of the porch into a rose bush. She messed up her leg too.
But unlike every other girl I knew, Rory didn’t sob or wail or allow herself to even whimper. Instead, she did it silently, big tears streaking down her face as not a sound came out. The silence was so much worse than if she had wept openly. The silence was heartbreaking.
I had my sister help me fish her out of the rose bush and picked her up to carry her to our mom. I was a scrawny thirteen, but those quiet tears gave me enough strength I could have carried her through the whole fucking town. And now is no different.
“Shh, I’ll take care of you, baby. I’ll keep you safe and protect you.”
Her head turns finally, and she sucks in a deep breath as I rub her pink cheeks with one hand while pushing the hair that’splastered to the side of her face back with the other one. I’m about to reach for the keys to the cuffs when my gaze trails over her rosy globes...and lower.
“Oh baby,” her thighs are glistening and damp, “are you wet?”
“No!” It comes out desperate and breathy. I could let her keep lying to me, or I could find out how far this whole thing goes.
“See, I think you are.”
“Bennet…don’t!”
I tell her the truth; I’ll always tell Rory the truth. “It’s already too late, princess.”
