Her Dark Desire (In the Process of Being Edited)

26

 Zeke

                I felt guilty doing this. This wasn’t how I wanted things to be done. I pace around my room, my footsteps padded as I walk. My eyes travel downwards, glancing at the cellphone in my hand every now and then. If I was to do this, this could cause so many problems in the future. I fall down on the bed to think. I let the cool silk of the pillow caress my head as I think of all the repercussions. Do I really want my kitten to be angry with me? I reach up and cover my eyes with my hand. If things went well then Damien would be out of the picture forever. I laugh to myself. If things go well? I fight the sigh threatening to come.

                No matter the outcome I have to do this. This is my chance to show Paisley…Show her what? That’s the question isn’t it? I struggle with the turmoil building inside me. I can hear my phone buzzing in my hand. I look over. The name Dominique flashes. I hesitate before reading the text. She wants to know if I’m coming. I want to. My frustration is building. I need a release. I want one. It’s been too long. Dominique is willing. A quick text back to let her know I’m on my way. I stare that television. The breaking news catches my attention.

                I freeze as they talk of the missing person. I know him. It’s the detective from before. I cringe as I know what this will mean for me. I want to die, to sleep forever. You’re weak. I need to change. My phone buzzes again. I have to stop myself from throwing it across the room. Dominique’s name stares at me from the phone. Even if I pay for this in the end, I have to go. Staying here will only drive me crazy. I stand up and pace some more. It’s ending. My life is ending. I open the window. The breeze feels wonderful as I start my climb down.

 

*****

                Our bodies lay intertwined as we cuddle together in the bed. Dominique traces the path of a bead of sweat with her finger. She moves closer, placing her leg between mine. With her hand moving lower, the tips of her fingers tickling the strands of silky hairs on my lower abdomen, she looks up at me. The smile on her face brightens as it spreads.

                “I was afraid you weren’t going to come,” she says. She splays her fingers as she delves deeper into the territory hidden by the sheet that wraps around my waist. “I’m glad you did though.” I chuckle and remove her hand. It comes out distorted as the tension in my body rises. She pouts, my body already hating me for removing the warm hand that could give it so much pleasure.

                “Of course I was going to come,” I lie to her, hoping my body doesn’t portray how I really feel. The hate I feel for myself is starting to build within me. Jealousy, that’s what this is about. I’m jealous. I stifle the laugh. It’s odd to even think that word. Jealous. Never before had I felt this feeling. Yet here I am, doing things I shouldn’t do because of her. All of this uselessness is an attempt to get her away from him. Whatever the future will bring for him will be his fault.

                She places several kisses on my chest. Her actions distract me briefly. I turn, adjusting my body to look at her.

                “What are you thinking about,” she asks continuing to kiss me. “You seem so far away.”