After the Storm (All I've Ever Needed)(14)

She’d laughed off his sudden interest at first, never having considered dating a shorter man. But he had an abundance of charm and before long she found herself lying on her sofa one evening exchanging soft kisses with him.

Sex had been good and nowhere as painful as people claimed first times could be. Michael had patiently used his tongue to arouse her, making her come before he took her virginity.

From the very next time they’d made love Michael had spent less time pleasing her. He hadn’t gone down on her as he’d done the first time, though he had made her perform on him. The pattern continued and since he always rushed to leave after sex, she chalked it up to him having a lack of time and hadn’t been overly worried.

She hadn’t told her family that she was dating him, partly because she was embarrassed by the fact he was shorter but more because he categorically refused to meet them. When she had pressed him, he’d slapped her and said that he didn’t want to meet another ‘Trini bastard’, meaning her father. She’d been offended, but he’d been so apologetic afterwards, she’d felt compelled to forgive him. He had cried bitterly as he’d told her about the constant physical abuse he had suffered at his stepfather’s hand as a child. When he talked about going hungry most nights and being so malnourished it stunted his growth, Natalie let go of her lingering resentment and made a secret vow to shower him with enough love to make up for all he had lacked in his early life.

He didn’t strike her in the following weeks and she forgot the incident, chalking it up to a one-time thing. As a student she knew that he didn’t have much funds, but she had anticipated that they would do something special for Valentine’s Day.

She’d bought a short, sexy red dress and a gorgeous pair of kitten-heeled shoes and waited patiently for him to tell her what plans he’d made. When he’d come over after lectures and prepared to leave after they had made love, she’d asked what time he would be back that evening.

He had looked at her blandly and she’d reminded him that it was Valentine’s Day.

That’s when he’d explained the reality of their relationship.

“I thought you understood how it is.”

“Understood how what is?” she’d asked bewildered.

“I thought you understood that a guy like me can’t be seen with a girl like you.”

He’d said enough for her to get the picture, but she’d needed him to be more explicit. “I don’t understand what you mean?”

“You’re my side dish, okay,” he’d said dismissively. “Melissa is my main dish.”

“I thought you broke up with her months ago.”

“A man says what he needs to say when he wants some pussy.”

The horror of it must have shown on her face and his next words were an attempt to soften the blow, but they made her feel worse. “Look, you’re a pretty girl, prettier than Melissa, but you’re too tall, you’re too dark and your hair’s too picky.”

“You’re such a bastard!” she’d yelled at him.

The punch had come so quickly, she was on the floor wondering how she had gotten there a few seconds later.

“Don’t you ever call me a bastard again!”

“I’m sorry.” She’d apologized, not calling him the unflattering word, but for reminding him of the truth of his birth, something he’d said his stepfather had taunted him about daily.

Michael had walked out of her flat, leaving her lying on the floor holding the injured side of her face. It had been slightly swollen the next day, but she’d avoided speaking to anyone face to face and thankfully no one at the university had noticed.

He had come around an hour after she got home and apologized for hitting her. He’d said that calling him a bastard was the cruelest thing she could have said to him. And again he’d seemed so vulnerable and remorseful, she had forgiven him.

When he’d tried to make love to her she’d refused, reminding him that he’d admitted he and Melissa were still together.

With the speed of a striking snake, he had grabbed her by her hair and forced her down in front of him, opened his fly and made her go down on him, holding her in place while he’d emptied himself. Then he’d left the bathroom door open and let her watch as he’d moistened and lathered a wash rag and cleaned himself. It was then she’d realized that he wasn’t fastidious as she’d always thought him, just diligent in erasing all traces of their sexual activity before going home to his girlfriend.

She’d stumbled to the bathroom and thrown up as soon as the front door closed behind him.