Authors: Shelly Pratt
EVIE
The first time I had sex was nothing like I expected it to be. I grew up reading
Forever
by Judy Blume and
Beloved Soul
by Shelly Pratt
.
I thought the act would be just as I imagined it—making love. Instead my ignorance was laid bare when I lost my virginity to my husband. Gentle and loving emotions played no part in the act. Instead, Alex was rough and dirty, basically screwing me like a dog.
I will never forget the let down and disappointment I felt after reading all the lovely books I had in my teenage years. In reality, they were my only teacher. My mother was a little old fashioned about such things and preferred to school her only child in a very limited way. My wedding night with my husband seemed more like banishment into slavery rather than an equal partnership into a loving relationship with the man I was seduced by.
Soon, I began to think that what we had was normal—that all the tales in the books were just that—tales, fantasy, fiction. Lies. I could have accepted our relationship as it was, but instead I became more desperate to have the fantasy. Every single time he pleasured himself with my body it made me crave intimacy even more. Truth be told, if I ever got real love from another man, I’m sure I wouldn’t know what to do with it.
However, the kiss with Grayson has had my heart all aflutter with fanciful thoughts. I’ve always had a relationship with a man who has a hidden agenda while Grayson seems hell bent on offering me the kind of affection I just can’t have, but sorely want.
Not only have I never had the kind of love I crave, I can’t even remember having one single friend to confide in since I finished high school. My life is filled with everything Alex wants it to be filled with, which includes everything from material possessions to the company I keep. For once, I can’t let him make decisions on my behalf. Not only do I want Grayson as a friend, but I need him.
There is something so honest about that man that I can’t hide away from him. I’ve felt since the first moment I
laid eyes on him that I can trust him. But with just how much, I’m not sure. The mention of the bruise on my face the last time I went to the coffee shop really had me rattled. It was unexpected that someone would so brazenly comment on the remnants of my beating. To his credit, there was no way in hell he would have known that my husband has a penchant for smacking me around. His comment was innocent and full of concern. The only thing that unnerves me is that I really wanted to tell him. It’s like I’m so starved for attention that I truly wanted to blurt every miserable detail about my life to him right then and there. And that would be very, very stupid.
I think if I truly care about someone, then I should keep my silly mouth shut. The alternative is that I put them in harm’s way by involving them in things that just don’t concern them. That’s one of the reasons I’ve never told my mother. Not only would she be mortified with my father’s actions, but she would completely blame herself for my torment and withdraw into an anguished state of detachment. Once that happened there would be no hope of ever getting her back into any semblance normalcy.
It’s one thing for me to be screwed up, but there’s no sense bringing everyone else down with me.
Yet, there is absolutely this undeniable pull towards Grayson that I just can’t refuse. I need to see him again. I want to explain, though I think the words will fail me. I want him to understand and not judge me. More than anything, I want to kiss those lips as well. They give me hope; hope that it’s not too late for the likes of me.
Alex rang earlier in the day and said he’d be home late. It suits me fine as my schedule is free and I’ve had beef bourguignon in the slow cooker since the early hours of the morning. With dinner set and nothing to do but watch the city close down below me, I decide on a whim to call a taxi.
I know exactly where I’m going, and why.
I want him… to understand. I need him… to show me that real love isn’t just fiction.
The hallway next to the lift is empty. There is no sign of Lurch anywhere, thank God. The last thing I need is that nosey little bugger following me at this time of the day. The ride down to the lobby seems interminable, but I try to keep my nerves under wrap.
The taxi is waiting for me at the curb. Taking a cursory look around, I hop in and breathe a sigh of relief. There is something so liberating about leaving the apartment that I instantly start to relax. Being at ease is an empowering feeling.
I watch on in delight as the people in the city go about their business. Some are going home after a long day in the city; others are only just starting their day’s work as the sun leaves the sky. It fascinates me to think that so many people all merge in such a small town and then scatter to distant suburbs when their shifts are over. I often wonder what their lives are like
—if they would be any better than my own.
We cross the bridge that sits high above the river and slowly melt away from the skyscrapers and concrete to a more relaxed urban landscape filled with parks and corner stores. I’m not far from the delicatessen now
—the only place I seem to want to visit when I can escape the chains of matrimonial misery.
A smile springs forth when I see the tea lights on the tables of the shop. I instruct the driver to pull over and pay him his fare. As I approach the door, I’m already scanning for Grayson, wishing like hell he hasn’t already left for the day.
There are a few stragglers, either grabbing an extremely late lunch or an early dinner, depending on how you look at it. The heavenly smell of coffee talks to my stomach, my tastebuds demanding I grab a cup regardless of my intentions for visiting. I spy Jean at the coffee machine and approach with caution.
‘Hey there
, Evie, what can I get for you?’
‘Hello
, Jean. Just coffee, please.’
‘Sure thing.’
‘Thank you.’
I watch as she loads the group with freshly ground beans and latches it to the machine. The strong aroma fills my senses while Jean froths the milk. She pours my drink into a takeaway container before taking my money for the beverage. I desperately look around for Grayson, but there’s no sign of him in the shop. I can’t even glimpse him in the kitchen. I either have to take a seat and hope he’s still somewhere about, or I have to leave, resigning myself to the fact that I’ve missed him completely.
‘He’s out the back,’ says Jean.
‘Who is?’ I don’t think I could have acted more innocent if I tried, but I’m sure the erratic beating of my heart and the goofy grin on my face gives me away.
‘Grayson—he’s out the back hosing down the dock.’
‘Oh
…’
‘You can just head on through the kitchen and out the back door if you wish.’
‘Okay… thanks.’
I try to walk, not run through the shop. I try to act like the sophisticated lady I’m supposed to be, but somewhere very near the surface is a carefree girl who is young at heart
—and she wants to run.
The kitchen is empty, all the benches wiped clean and floors mopped. A security screen allows me to see into the rear alley way. I’m lucky enough to cop an eyeful of Grayson Glines. He’s swinging the hose around in the air while he parades around shirtless. He’s soaking wet, the water glistening on his skin in the remnants of the sun. He’s singing, which makes me want to giggle. It almost seems unfair that he’s carrying on in such a way and has no idea that I’m watching him. I stare a little longer, but only because he has such an exquisite body. The ripples on his stomach are almost illegal. I wonder absently what it would be like to run my fingers over them.
‘Hey!’ I squeal. I’m broken out of my musings by the blast of water that reaches me through the mesh screen.
‘That’ll teach you to spy on people,’ laughs Grayson, reaching for the tap to turn off the hose. I join him outside.
‘I wasn’t spying on you,’ I say indignantly. He grins and saunters over to me. I’d be lying if I didn’t say he took my breath away—just a little. He gets so close to me that I can smell caramel and coffee on his lips.
‘What would you call it then?’
‘I don’t know,’ I whisper, suddenly tongue-tied.
‘How come it’s been so long since you’ve come by? Was it because I asked about the bruise?’
‘You’re blunt, aren’t you?’
‘There’s no point beating about the bush. Well, was it?’
‘Maybe.’
‘I wish I’d kept my mouth shut then.’
‘Really?’ I’m a little sad that he said that, because for the first time in my life, someone cared enough
to
ask.
‘No, not really, Evie. That’s post-speaking regret talking. I just wish you’d come by sooner.’
I grin. ‘Yeah, me too.’ His lips are so close that I want to kiss him, but I use every ounce of willpower to keep from swaying right into his mouth.
‘Why don’t you just give in?’
‘To what?’
‘To this,’ he says before pressing his lips against mine. The water runs off his body and trickles over mine. He really is soaking wet, yet I don’t mind in the slightest. I actually welcome the cold water
—it helps cool the flame that’s burning within. My eyes instinctively close, needing to feel him—really see him without the sense of sight.
His hot tongue gently pries my mouth open, offering more than just a sweet peck on the lips. His kiss stirs deep in the depths of my belly, making me ache in ways I never have. Wet hands find my lower back, lightly urging me to bring my body closer to his. His touch soaks
through my shirt sending a ripple of goose bumps along my skin. I almost drop my coffee I’m that distracted.
I want to grab him and never let go, but I know this is an absurd thought. But if I can have him right now, only for this moment, shouldn’t I be happy with that? Shouldn’t that be enough?
My body tells me no. It will never be enough. Every little electric charge that is seeping its way through my body is a little reminder that I’m alive. I’m alive and I should be living my life, not drowning in it. I crave more of him and kiss him back passionately. Urgency to be touched in a romantic way is something new entirely.
I’m left completely baffled when Grayson pulls away. He cups my cheeks and eyes me mischievously.
‘We should go out together.’ He notices the alarmed look on my face. I pull away instinctively, suddenly very aware that I’m leading him on when I can offer him nothing; nothing but a husband who would be literally murderous if he ever found out.
‘We can’t. I’m sorry, Grayson. I shouldn’t have come here.’ I turn to walk away, but he steps in my path to stop me. I shy away from him out of habit, no control over years of abuse.
‘Grayson…’ It’s a warning, but he doesn’t seem intent on heeding it.
‘I know there’s a lot we don’t know about each other, but I’d really like to change that.’
‘That’s impossible.’
‘And yet, here you are.’
‘Coming here was a mistake, a silly mistake.’
‘Don’t act like you don’t feel it too. I know you do, Evie.’
‘You don’t get it, do you? It’s not about what I want or what I feel.’
‘You obviously feel a strong enough pull towards me to come back.’
‘You’re right, I do. But nothing will change that whatever
this
is, can never be.’
‘Because of him?’
‘Yes, because of him!’ I say, exasperated.
‘Let me help you, Evie.’
‘No.’
‘Please.’
‘No, it’s too dangerous—for both of us.’
‘I don’t care what the risk is. I need you just as much as you need me.’
‘No.’
‘Do you know any other words besides no?’
He smirks.
‘Yes. See? I said yes.’
‘Then say yes to coming out with me just for one day.’
‘I can’t. I’m married.’
‘Is that why you’re kissing random men in alleyways?’
‘
You’re not a random man, you’re…’
‘A friend?’
‘Maybe. I don’t have any of those either so I can’t really say for sure.’
‘Friends don’t kiss like that, but, I’m willing to acce
pt friendship from you for now. And, since we’re officially friends, we have to do what friends do.’
‘Which is?’
‘Hang out. So why don’t you give me your phone number and I’ll call you to organise a date. Um, I mean… well, you know what I mean.’
‘Give me yours and I’ll call you.’
‘You won’t call.’
‘Maybe, but that’s a chance you’re going to have to take and it’s all I’m willing to offer right now. It’s safer this way
—for you
and
for me.’
‘Okay. You drive a hard bargain, but I accept. Are you going to get a pen out to write it down?’
‘No, I’ll remember it just fine.’
‘You’re not going to call me, are you?’ he groans.
‘Just give me the number, Grayson.’