In Your Clutches

Part 37: Family? Or Poison?

AMELIA

I blinked my eyes lightly. Light filled the room, coaxing me from deep sleep to wakefulness. I stretched out and opened my eyes. It was a beautiful November morning.

Beside me, I found the bed empty, as usual. I wasn't even surprised he was not in bed after making love to me six hours back. It was Asher we were talking about. Who were we kidding? This was the way he always was. Ugh!

Memories of last night came flooding into my mind and I found myself smiling and flushing. But deep down I knew that this joy wouldn't last long. Asher didn't love me at all and he was soon going to prove that to me. I told myself not to be so excited and went to the bathroom.

I stared at myself in the gigantic mirror above the sink. Did I look different? I felt different. I felt a little sore, to be honest, but in all the right places. It was difficult to walk as hell and my muscles-jeez, it was like I'd never done any exercise in my life. And now, I'd just slept with my husband, given him my virginity, and had the best night of my life so far.

To the man who didn't love me.

He said he would never love me.

But maybe he might have felt different about me now. After all that had happened.

Are you delusional?

I realized my subconscious was awake and she was shouting at me all the while tapping her foot. I winced as I focused on the mirror. I was going to have to process all of what happened last night. I noticed something on my neck and down my chest. A very unwelcomed, hickey!

I gazed in horror at the red marks all over my chest. I stretched my top down and saw the marks all over my breast too.

Love bites.

I had love bites from the man who didn't love me. I was married to one of the most respected and feared men in the United States, and he'd given me goddamn hickeys. How did I not feel him doing this to me? Must have been the liquor.

Oh, God.

I swear I flushed red. I couldn't exactly recall all the moments of last night, since I had been high, but these marks were proof of it. I gazed at myself, trying to absorb how I looked. My body was so different these days. It was like I was turned on by everything related to Asher. His smoking hot voice. The way he looked at me. His stupid smirk. Everything.

First things first.

How in the world was I supposed to hide it? I wasn't very good at makeup, for sure. I shivered. What if I wasn't able to cover up this patch, and everybody noticed it?

Oh God, that was even worse.

Or maybe I could just hide it with a scarf or something.

Problem solved. Hopefully.

I wanted somebody to love me. But I just hadn't met anyone who... well, whom I was attracted to, even though part of me longed for the fabled trembling knees, heart-in-my-mouth, butterflies-in-my-belly moments. I hardly experience these moments with Asher. He was so cold and so arrogant.

Sometimes I wondered if there was something wrong with me. Perhaps I'd spent too long in the company of my literary romantic heroes, and consequently, my ideals and expectations were far too high. But in reality, nobody has ever made me feel like that. Until very recently, the unwelcomed, still-small voice of my subconscious whispered.

No!

I tried to banish the thought immediately.

Big time. I grinned stupidly. Big time and I was distracted by the memory of last night. His words, his body, his lovemaking. I closed my eyes as my body hummed at the recollection, and my muscles contracted deliciously deep in my belly.