Ellie took off the robe and used it to clean herself. She tossed the robe on the floor and looked at me, eyes wide as if she was drunk. I reached for her, taking a gentle hold of her arm. I tugged her forward, and she moved toward me with ease.
I spooned my body around hers. She was so soft, felt so good against me. I moved her hair over her shoulder and pressed my lips against the nape of her neck.
“Why didn’t you run?” I asked again.
Ellie sighed. “I have nothing to run to.”
I slid my finger up and down the curve of her hip. “I don’t believe that.”
She sighed. “I guess I should rephrase that to I have nothing worth running to.” She put her hand on top of mine. Despite the up close and personal fucking we had just done, the gesture was very intimate, and suddenly the mood shifted from pure sexual enjoyment to something…more.
“I’m in a dead-end career, and no one takes me seriously. I have no friends in the city, I hate my apartment, and I’m months behind on bills. My life is depressingly boring. And…and I hate what I’ve become.”
Her last words hit home. I hated what I had become as well. “Why is that, chica?”
She took another deep breath then laced her fingers through mine. I narrowed my eyes, staring at the back of her head. She was holding my hand like it meant something, like I was more than the guy who had just fucked the shit out of her to the point where she couldn’t walk.
I think I liked it, feeling like there was something between us.
“I gave up everything to be a cop. My father’s a cop. I know you know that,” she said quickly. “So is my brother. I wanted to be like them. I spent my life doing what I thought I should do, what I thought would make my father proud. I put all my energy into work. Year after year, I kept applying for a stupid promotion. And year after year, I got shot down by my own father. Do you know how shitty that makes me feel? Not even dear old Dad thinks I can be anything more than a glorified Crossing Guard. My friend used to tell me to do what you love and fuck them all…but I never could. I did what they wanted me to do, and I really fucking regret it. I wasted my life.”
She twisted on the mattress, turning toward me. She linked her arm through mine. “I hate being a cop. I hate being good. Sometimes, I just want to be bad. I want to stop lying to myself and settling for ‘good enough.’ I don’t want to feel guilty for going after what I desire.”
I hooked my leg over hers. “And what is it you desire?”
She closed her eyes. “I want to feel free.”
That was exactly what I wanted.
But she wasn’t going to know that. Ever. “How can you feel free here?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I mean feeling free to be myself? Is that lame?”
It wasn’t, not at all. That’s what I wanted. That’s what I yearned for. My life had quickly gone from privileged teen to stressed adult. The transition from one to the other was fuzzy. Just when had I made the switch?
It all started when my father died, which was a whole other can of worms to not open. Ever. I was a businessman, and I ran my business well.
“Not lame,” I said and pulled the blankets over us. “You want to be here?”
“I think so.”
“What if I don’t want you?”
She opened her eyes for a few seconds. “What else are you going to do with me?”
“Kill you.”
She shook her head. “No. You would have already. Why haven’t you, then?”
“I wanted to fuck you,” I said honestly. “And now that I have…”
She tensed, just slightly. “Don’t you want to do it again?” she whispered, her voice low and seductive.
“Yes,” I said. Well, I was being honest after all. “But what I want to do and what I need to do are two separate things. And when it comes down to it, I always do what’s in my best interest.”
“You’re not going to kill me,” she said, arching her back just enough to cause her nipples to brush against my arm.
“You seem sure about that,” I said, feeling turned on—again—by how brazen she was.
“I’m hopeful,” she said with a smile. I couldn’t help but smile back. I debated telling her that I never had any intention of killing her, that the thought of hurting her seemed wrong, so wrong. I wanted to fuck her senseless—repeatedly. But I also wanted to take care of her, which was so weird to me it made my skin crawl.
*
“You seem tense.”
I kicked off my shoes and eyed Ellie. She was leaning against the counter in the kitchen that next day. It was the first time I’d seen her since I left her naked and sleeping in my bed that morning. And I had missed her.