Jessica doesn't trust men. Worse, she has a string of short relationships and runs away when things get too serious. Demons from her past resurface when she meets him, Angel Seth Saint, her new teacher with a burning look. And, even if the young wom...
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He lifts me up with ease. I roll my arms around his neck so I don't slip and we go back to the room. I loved feeling him inside me but it was all very exhausting. I have to fight not to fall asleep because I still have to talk to him. I had never done anything like this with anyone. I was very apprehensive. But oddly enough it went better than the last time in my kitchen. I think the fact that I was able to see him and not have my eyes covered made me feel better. And then he is so sweet and kind to do everything to reassure me, that it works. I felt confident and safe in his arms. And it's been a long time since I've felt that way. To the point where I thought it wouldn't happen again.
Most men are not reassuring. And when they pretend to be, the mask falls off very quickly. Then all that's left are the tears that roll down my cheeks. I've known this feeling far too long to trust a man. But Angel deserves a chance.
"Weren't we supposed to go to bed?" I ask puzzled.
"Yes, but first I'll get you cleaned up princess."
"It's true that it would be a shame to dirty the sheets."
"Sheets ?! We don't care about that! I just want to take care of you."
It pisses me off because even if I wanted to, it doesn't sound fake. The look on her face is way too sincere for that. And I don't know what to think about it anymore. My conflicting feelings: the sex is amazing with him but let's face it: that doesn't mean he wants anything serious with me. How can you know if you don't ask him?" my conscience scolds me. I just know. He just wants me to be his submissive. When he's done having fun with me, he'll forget about me. He said he wanted to take care of you. He doesn't know what he's saying.
"Are you okay?" He's worried.
I just nod my head. I'm afraid if I speak, it will sound wrong. He doesn't seem convinced but I don't give him time to answer. I leave his arms and get back on my legs. Then I undress and dive into the bath. I'm glad the bubble bath hides my nakedness and I wonder when he had time to prepare this.
Isn't it too hot?"
"No, it's perfect."
"Are you sure? If it's ever too hot-"
"I'm telling you it's good!"
He does it on purpose because he knows, deep down, that everything is not so good. But it has nothing to do with him, it's deeper than that. That doesn't stop him from being disconcerted by this change of mood. He must be tired of me. That's what I tell myself. And when he leaves the bathroom, I assume I'm right. Except that he comes back 15 minutes later. He places a table of some sort over the tub. Then he puts a bottle of white wine and a manuscript on it. Angel tops it off with a plate of strawberries and some delicious looking cookies.
"It's for me?" I wonder.
He just smiles at me and strokes my hair. I have to say it's not at all unpleasant but I've learned to be wary.
