Dominic POV con't
I feel confused and then it hits me that I've been sleeping, and for way longer than I expected. Is she just coming now?! Why would she get here the next day?
"Huh... FUCK what time is it?" I yell, whipping my head up and reaching quickly for my phone on the end table to look at the time.
"It's... not actually morning, I was just joking," she adds.
Wow. The phone reads after 8:00 p.m.
I glare at her and I remember exactly why I was annoyed with her in the first place. More than anything I'm relieved that that horrible dream was just that... a dream.
"... ... I really don't understand your humor," I say.
"I brought you your ginger beer."
I sit up on the bed so that my legs can hang over the sides as I rub my face. I'm still out of it but I realize I had been sleeping for a while. I feel a little rested but still weak.
I watch as Lacie opens the bottle and hands it to me. I hadn't realized how thirsty I was until I began to guzzle down half the drink, only to notice Lacie staring at me from my left.
I let out a silent belch, and the sense of relief that follows is almost intoxicating.
"Thank you", I tell her.
"You're most welcome."
"Did you take a company car?" curious as to whether or not Art brought her here.
"Yes I did," she answers.
I don't know why but this makes me feel a little more at ease. The last time her car broke down, it was in the middle of the night. I don't know why she's so stubborn but it's definitely not a good thing when a woman can't even rely on her car to get her home.
I did tell her I would help her out again if that ever happened with her car.
I don't know why I said that but maybe it's because I expect her to always be here since she's an integral part of the documentation of the development of the game.
"Good. Here," I say, handing her back the bottle.
I thought I was feeling better but that sick nauseous feeling comes back. I try my hardest to ignore it thinking it's just the residual sensations from earlier
"Thanks for coming," I say to her as I look over at her and give her what I think is a smile.
I'm not even aware whether or not I'm smiling. However, I do feel a tinge of relief that she's here. There goes her face doing that thing again.
I just realized what I'd said. I understand how that can be taken several ways and as I look at her, I try to study her face and her body language.
I'm trying to decipher whether or not she got laid. If she did, why is she still looking at me with that 'look'?
It just occurs to me that she's in my room sitting next to me on my bed. My heart beats a little faster. Oh stop it Dominic.
The way she's smiling at me right now makes me feel something weird. There's an awkward feeling in the air. As she smiles at me, I imagine her lying back with her eyes closed smiling like that...
"What?" she questions jovially, breaking my concentration.
I lean my head back to look up at the ceiling and then close my eyes and breathe in deeply. My mind goes back to the very vivid and terrifying dream of Kiera being pregnant.
Oh God she better not be.
For some reason, thinking about that makes me feel sick all over again. My mouth starts producing more saliva once more and I start swallowing.
Jesus Christ not again.
The ginger beer felt so good hitting my stomach. The fizziness sliding down my throat felt soothing and the sugar in it made me feel as though I ate something.
"Are you okay". Lacie asks softly. Even though I'm feeling like this I can detect that she actually cares. Her concern feels genuine and not like she's kissing up to me.
I want to tell her I'm all right, but even when I make the motion to open my mouth, I can feel as though something is going to come out.
I try to sit still and focus with my eyes closed.
My insides feel like a volcano and suddenly I have the sensation of the ginger beer making its way back up my throat.
"Uhhh, fuck," I manage to get out as I run as fast as I can to my master bathroom to throw myself over the toilet and hurl.
It didn't even feel like I drank that much. The ginger beer bottle had not been that big but for some reason what's coming out of my stomach feels like it's three times the amount
"Hey," I hear Lacie behind me.
Why is she here? For some reason this feels like a very intimate thing, me hanging my head over the toilet on my knees completely at the mercy of the contractions of my wayward stomach.
Does she really expect me to answer her while I'm throwing up my guts?
"Lacie please leave me the fuck alone," I manage to get out in between my retch.
I think she leaves because when I momentarily look behind me she's no longer there. Thank God. I'm grateful that she brought the ginger beer but a part of me regrets her being here.
I don't like people seeing me like this.
I sit on the floor beside the toilet for a while waiting to see if it's over.
I close my eyes and I remember my mother with blood dripping down her face. My stomach tightens again and I retch once more. Surprisingly, even more liquid comes out of my stomach but it smells exactly like ginger beer.
"Nick?"
Fucking hell Lacie is back. Why can't this girl take a hint?
She strolls into the bathroom and stands next to me. Invasion of personal space much?
For a while, I realize I'm dry heaving, and after the convulsions stop, I sit there catching my breath. Jesus this is so embarrassing
"Oh my god, Dominic. I think we need to get you to a hospital."
Her words send a sudden chill through me, and fear grips my heart tightly.
"No," I reply, my voice coming out weaker than I intend.
"Yes! Dude, when is the last time you actually kept anything down? Before I left I heard you puking and that was earlier today. Have you eaten anything?"
"Lacie..." I start to plea with her.
"Dominic seriously, you have nothing in your stomach."
THAT'S what she's concerned about? Nothing being in my stomach?! I think to myself that maybe if she was more concerned about things not being in her stomach she wouldn't be so overweight.
"Why is everything about food with you?" I snap at her, my voice filled with uncharacteristic irritation.
In my normal state of mind, I would have caught myself, filtering out such a thought before it spilled out through my lips. But right now, my filter is definitely broken, and everything— including my insides—feels like it's spilling out uncontrollably.
"Excuse me.... Um.... very rude because I've never once mentioned anything about food before now. I'm just saying that you have nothing in your stomach and I don't know what's going on with you but....."
"Lacie... please..." I cut her off.
Why is she picking a fight with me right now?! This is not why I called her over. I just asked her to bring over some FUCKING ginger beer and now she's fucking badgering me with 1000 questions when she knows I'm not in the state of mind to defend myself.
I can't even speak at the moment, but for now, I stop throwing up. It feels like everything that could possibly be in my stomach to came out.
I weakly get up and almost fall over until I feel an arm around me. Lacie helps me up and I shrug her off. 'Fucking get off me' is what I want to say.
Logically I understand she's just being nice but for some reason it pisses me off. I brush my teeth to get the taste of puke out my mouth.
"Here you can rest on me," she says as she tries to put her arm around me.
I push her away annoyed. I'm not an old man and I'm not handicapped! The hospital.... The FUCK is wrong with her?
Her treating me like this is making me feel worse.
However I'm too sick to even fight back right now and I plop down on my bed on my back. My stomach feels like it's disconnected from the rest of me.
My head is killing me and I groan in pain and annoyance. I'm vaguely aware that Lacie is still in the room with me. I throw one of my arms over my eyes. Even though my room is dark it still feels like there's too much light. Come to think of it, my eyes hurt as well. Was it this bad last time?
"Have you drunk any water?" I hear her ask.
Even though I'm annoyed with Lacie, I can feel my tolerance for her presence growing. A very strange part of me finds it comforting but also very alien.
I don't have the strength to speak and so I just shake my head 'no' or at least I think I do.
Just that little movement makes me feel nauseous again. Jesus, what could I possibly have left to throw up?
"Dominic, did you eat something bad?" I hear Lacie's voice.
She really has a nice voice. When I can't see her, I imagine her looking completely different, like a fairy. Her voice is much higher pitched than you would think and she sounds like a little girl.
It partly makes me feel odd, as though I'm speaking to a 10-year-old child.
I get paranoid and I have to usually open my eyes or look at her to reinforce that this is a woman standing in front of me.
"No..." I reply quietly, doing my best to sound convincing despite my current state. "I'll be fine in a few days."
As if to mock me, my stomach tenses and cramps again. And then I hear the dreaded words crawl from out of this woman's mouth that makes me want to punt her.
"I'm going to call 911,"
Suddenly, It's like the hosts of hell momentarily give me back a piece of my soul and my voice.
"NO!!! PLEASE don't do that! FUCK! I.... AM FINE!" I bark in frustration at her
"NO... YOU'RE NOT! Dude you're not even keeping liquid down!! That's a problem and you don't know what's wrong with you!"
"I do know what's wrong with me!" I yell back in desperation.
I spent most of my childhood in hospitals whether because of my mother being placed in the hospital by my father, her substance issues, or for other reasons or because I was a patient myself.
Flashbacks of me going to the hospital and fearing when I would have to be released and going home assault me. NO. No hospitals.... EVER!
"What is it then?" she asks.
God why can't she just trust me?
"I've dealt with this before. It's fine," I say calmly, hoping this will convince her to stop pushing
"How is it fine when you're throwing up LIQUID?" she yells.
OH..... MY.... FUCKING..... GOD.
I feel like this bitch is going to give me an aneurysm. She's literally making my headache worse.
"I'm sorry Dominic, but I care about you and I don't want you to die on my watch so.."
What the fuck is she doing? I look over and see her doing something with her cell phone. My heart immediately races and I panic. WHAT THE FUCK!!!? Why is she calling 911 against my will? I just told her that I DO NOT WANT TO GO to the FUCKING HOSPITAL! Why is that so hard to comprehend??
It's not like my leg is falling off, I'm not having a heart attack, I'm not unconscious.
YOU FAT FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT! You realize how much expense you're costing me?!!!! ALL YOU FUCKING DO IS FUCKING EAT. What animal eats itself sick DOMINIC? YOU! YOU FUCKING FAT ASS!!!
I hear my father's tirade slam against the walls of my mind.
I leap up and with both arms, I pull back Lacie onto her back and onto my bed in an attempt to get her phone.
"Ugh! What are you... no I'm calling them!" she squeals in a higher pitch.
"And I said no! The fuck is wrong with you Lacie!?"
Bitch is strong. She buries her phone into her chest. Yeah, like she thinks I won't go there to get it. I'm wondering if she already dialed them. It looks as though she didn't from what I could see at a quick glance, spotting the icons on her phone.
"You're never going to get it from me anyway so you might as well give up!" she shrieks, her voice breathless.
"Give me the phone Lacie!" I yell, still trying to reach into her chest to get it, but her pudgy arms create a fortress around it.
"No!" she yells back.
Why is she fucking with me? Why is she doing this to me?
What the hell is even going on? Is she actually being serious right now? For the moment, I just sit back on my bed staring at her, her back kind of turned to me as she sits back up trying to protect her phone.
For the moment, the nausea is completely gone and all I am concerned with is the absolute fear I have that someone is going to come here and take me to the hospital
"You need to go to a hospital and if you won't go to the hospital or let me take you then I'm going to call someone to come and bring you to the hospital," she says, looking back at me with determination in her eyes.
Oh my God; she's actually serious. Suddenly, I feel a rage within me. This is definitely crossing a line. I'm not in any immediate danger and the fact that she's making a bigger deal out of this is actually quite immature and overstepping her bounds.
"Don't you fucking dare..." I sternly warn her, not breaking eye contact.
I don't know if she thinks because I'm sick she can walk all over me. She just holds my gaze for a while and then... yeah my eyes don't deceive me... I watch as a smile grows on her face like she's a fucking demon.
Does she really think this is funny? The actual fuck?
I breathe in deeply, wordlessly daring her to make that call. Still holding my gaze she slowly removes her phone from her chest and I see as she swipes up to unlock it and pulls up the phone icon.
I make the motion to quickly grab the phone. She's bent over the side of my bed trying to protect it and I don't give a fuck what i touch. You wanna hide it in your fucking tits, I will dig it out of there. I'm behind her reaching over in front of her to try and get the phone and I swear I can hear her giggling a little.
This really pisses me off. She really thinks she can play me. I guess she doesn't realize exactly how strong I am. I no longer care about hurting her or not. I quickly wrap my arm around her neck and chest and pull her back into me onto the bed so that she's now lying next to me on her back. Like a predator, I quickly roll over to my left on top of her.
In the back of my mind, I'm aware of how awkward it feels to be straddling wide hips like this. Her thighs are so much bigger than I'm used to that it feels like I'm straddling a cushion.
And I was correct when I hear, once again, a giggle escaping her mouth as she still holds the phone close to her to keep it from me- right between her chest.
This enrages me even more. I feel sick as a dog and the fact that she is treating me like this makes me regret her even coming here.
This is the last thing I need and if this is her idea of a joke I swear to God. I swear to goodness I'm going to fire her.
She gazes into my eyes, a defiant challenge in her expression, and I meet her challenge without hesitation. Still straddling her, I grasp each of her wrists, which are tightly locked together holding the phone in place. As I lock eyes with her, I see a dawning realization of horror as she recognizes just how much stronger I am.
I peel her arms apart from each other and position them on either side of her head, effectively pinning her in place.
I'm aware that the phone is in her right hand, but I don't break her gaze. Lacie thinks that she's in control, that she's more dominant than me. Apparently she's forgotten the dynamic.
I can snatch it from her but I want to see the look in her eyes when I make her let It go.
"Drop the fucking phone," I growl, my voice filled with a determination and assertion that brooks no argument. My command leaves no room for negotiation or misunderstanding.
I squeeze her right wrist with my left hand and I can feel her grip loosening.
She relents and she opens her palm fully to drop the phone
"There," she says, submitting breathlessly with only residual defiance. The tension in the room lingers.
I'm aware of how much we're both breathing heavily. I'm so angry and my emotions are so heightened that I can hear myself growling through each exhalation. I still don't break her gaze. I'm still holding on to her wrists. She's looking up at me and I'm looking down at her, sweat dripping off the tips of my hair hanging over my face. I must look like a madman right now.
I now fully process the position that we're in and how questionable it must look. She's looking up at me again with that... expression.
The "i want you to fuck me Dominic" expression.
Maybe it's in my mind and I can feel my dick growing. Wait... it's already brick hard.
With all of that desperation and emotional outpour, my testosterone levels have bloomed.
Lacie is panting. I manage to look down for a quick second and see her nipples poking through her shirt.
She's no longer smiling and she's just staring at me. Then a harrowing thought enters my mind....
I should fuck her.
Maybe she didn't sleep with Art. I mean if she did, would she still look this hungry?
Oh my. Did I interrupt them before they could?
A mischievous sense of pride wells up inside me. I'm pretty sure she would cheat on him. I wonder exactly how loyal she is. I feel the overwhelming sensation to move my hips back and forth, but ...
... I don't.
She probably can't feel my erection because of how I'm sitting on her. In this position I can see her large breasts splayed slightly out to either side of her body, making them appear bigger.
We're here by ourselves, in my room. She's under me on my bed. We're already halfway there. This would be the perfect time to test her...
What am I doing? What the fuck am I doing?
I try to control my breathing. I'm not in a relationship with Kiera, but for some reason I feel guilty right now.
And for some reason, my whole plan of testing Lacie... just feels cruel.
I want to ruin her. I want to wipe that stupid innocent look off her face. I'm angry with her. I'M FUCKIN LIVID with her that she just put me through that right now and made me look insane.
"Please don't fuck with me Lacie" I breathe out in ire .
"I..." she starts to say.
But before she can say anything I quickly get off her and off the bed.
I think right now both my mind and body are in a vulnerable state. I'm not going to give her any satisfaction whatsoever.
"Get the fuck out," I snip at her.
"Dominic,"
"Get... the fuck... out" I repeat, my tension and frustration rising.
"Out of your house?"
"Out of my ROOM!" I yell at her, realizing and shocking even myself at how angry I am.
Of course I'm angry. I have every right to be angry.
Not only did she make me feel vulnerable because I depended on her help when she offered it in the first place and then she left me here, but she made me feel vulnerable by putting me in that position by threatening to send me to the hospital. Who the fuck does she think she is?!
She starts walking towards my bedroom door, and I don't even realize that she's starting to say something when I slam the door in her face. At that moment, I didn't care. Not about her words, her feelings, or anything else.
I feel consumed by my own anger and frustration.
The sound of the door slamming echoes through the room.
The silence that follows is heavy.
I lie back down in my bed on my back. The good news is I feel like I don't have to throw up anymore. I guess the adrenaline rush from the confrontation temporarily pushed the sick feeling away.
The bad news is... I'm rock hard. Lacie made me so angry I can't think straight. I'm massively horny and fucking enraged.
I'm even more angry because right now all I can think about is beating it. I REFUSE!!
Bitch doesn't have power over me. Why is everything so complicated right now? Why was she fucking with me?
I recall Lacie's giggles while she was wrestling with me. My dick swells a little more. I'm aware of how fast I'm breathing. I'm aware of how badly I want to cum right now.
I keep replaying the situation in my mind, Lacie under me, looking up at me, breathlessly.
Takes me a while to realize that I'm dry humping the air, enjoying the feel of my boxers rubbing over my dick.
I refuse to touch myself because somehow that feels like I'll be giving in. I'll be giving into the fantasy of Lacie giving herself to me in total submission.
I'm in turmoil. A primal part of me wants to get up and go to her room and finish what I realized was starting. But it takes every ounce of my willpower to just lie here on my back with my throbbing and aching erection.
I very slightly rock my hips up and down. The fabric of my shorts tease the underside of my penis.
I breathe faster and I realize it's about to happen. I hold my hands out in front of me and fold each of them into fists.
I gently put the fists over my eyes and I bite my lips. Holy fuck... I think I'm gonna cum like this.
I hump faster and a little more pronounced as I breathe more deeply and faster paced.
Lacie's tits and her nipples poking through tease my mind. Her giggles haunt me. Seeing her look up at me, with me holding her arms down, as the cloth of my shorts sensually brushes the underside of the shaft of my cock, pulls a deep sensual groan from out of me.
The sound of it is filled with my exhaustion and longing, a primal expression of all the turmoil and chaotic thoughts and sensations swirling inside me. My orgasm is slow and painfully overwhelming. Oh... oh god.
My ball sack feels like it's stuck in its contraction. I hold my breath as the last of my cum shoots out through my shorts. I can feel the wetness starting to run down the side of my thigh. I remove my fists from my face and I take off my shirt quickly and put it under me for now.
I just lie down like that looking up at the ceiling. I look over to my right to where Lacie had let go her phone.
It's not there. I guess she took it with her. Of course she did.
I replay the entire incident in my mind. Now that I busted, I don't feel as angry as before.
"I'm sorry Dominic, but I care about you ..."
I recall her saying. I just lie there for a while. I need to get myself out of this funk.
Suddenly, maybe because of a weird sense of guilt, my mind runs across Kiera.
I get up and text her.
Me: Hey
Kiera: ... hey
I'm actually surprised she texted back- of course she did. She's now worried about her position with me.
Me: I'm sorry.
Kiera: For what?
Me: I think I was a little bit too harsh.
Kiera: It's ok. I was too pushy. I should know better and I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable. I know you said or at least implied that you didn't need me around this week, but...
She ends the text, no doubt to start a new paragraph. Why do girls do that? Why can't they just say everything in one text?
Kiera: I just felt it necessary to remind you that I'm here in case you need me. I'm sorry I brushed you off that one time
I smile to myself. Kiera is familiar. She had become part of my routine and not having her be part of it now feels strange.
What I'm really curious about is whether or not there's any truth to my vivid dream. I look back down at my phone and type, lying on my back.
Me: Are you pregnant?
Silence.
My heart starts beating fast and my anxiety skyrockets. Why is she not typing?
Suddenly, my cell phone rings. Oh fuck. Oh no. I start to inwardly panic.
I sit up and I can feel my stomach twisting into a knot
Kiera: Hi?
Me: Yeah
Kiera: HAHA, No Dominic. I'm not pregnant.
Me: Are you sure? You don't have any-
Kiera: Yes. I'm pretty sure. What, do you WANT me to be?
Me: No!
I hear her laugh. I sigh with relief and also in joy at hearing her voice. This whole mess and confusion with Lacie has made me appreciate Kiera more.
She's been here working her ass off before Lacie entered the picture. It just now occurred to me that she might be jealous of Lacie.
After she fills me in on some other things that have been going on in the company I ask her,
"Hey. Are you jealous of Lacie?"
I hear an audible silence on her side of the line. I hear her shift and I can imagine all of her facial expressions based on the fact that we've known each other for a while now.
Kiera: Why would I be jealous of Lacie?
Me: I don't know, that's why I'm asking. I don't like the way that you treat her. I get it if you guys have some feud going on but, you need to keep that shit out of the workplace. Kiera, we don't have time for that right now.
Kiera: You fought with me
Me: You got bitchy with me. I'm your boss, not your boyfriend
It's the truth. We both agreed to that.
Me: Do you love me?
I hear silence on the other end of the line. Oh no. Please. I swear to God...
I need to know for sure where we stand and be sure we're on the same page.
Kiera: Of course not. Not like that. We're just fucking like you said.
Me: Ok. Good. I don't love you either. This doesn't need to get complicated
Kiera: Definitely not
I talk with her a little bit more and I can hear her smiling on the other end. She's in a much better mood now and that makes me happy.
It makes me a little confused then, when she invites herself over and I decline. Maybe it's because I'm sick and having TWO girls fawning over me would be too much. I mean, Kiera does not treat me like a baby half the time.
At least she never used to. The most she would do was see if I was okay and then she would get me medicine, or pick me up something from the store, and leave me the fuck alone.
She understood that I needed space whenever I was feeling under the weather and she never coddled me.
She would make me feel better sexually and try to take my mind off it. There was something simple and assuring in that.
Lacie was different. She made me feel like a baby. While a part of me appreciated what she did, that whole "mommy dearest" act turned me off.
I feel guilty even just thinking that because I know it was coming from a good place- or at least I think it was.
Maybe that's her way of caring about people but it's a bit too overbearing for me.