The Thorn Of A Rose

Chapter Six

I don't speak, or move, or even breathe. I feel like one sudden movement will result in a bullet to the head. He's staring at me, his eyes twinkling yet again in the light of this small and unpopular café. Why is he here? Of all places to be on a Wednesday night it's thiscafé? It doesn't make sense. Bumping into him for the second time in less than a week just doesn't make sense.

"You're drenched, let me get you a hot drink" He says, after looking me up and down. I still have water running off my clothes and skin, creating puddle wherever I go. I take my windproof jacket off, exposing the vest I have on underneath.

I clear my throat. I feel like I'm dreaming, like he's about to cause another sleepless night but the uncomfortable wet feeling on my legs from these pants are assuring me that it's not a dream. "It's fine, I'll get it" I finally respond.

I don't want him to buy me another drink. Buying me an alcoholic beverage when drunk to try and get me into bed is one thing, a sober coffee is another.

He looks dissatisfied "I won't take no for an answer."

"That's as it may be" I start "But you don't know what I order." I turn and carry on walking to the till. "A green tea please, jasmine if you have it"

The man nods, charging me for my tea and begins to prepare it. My breathing is still recovering and so is my head which feels like it's been stuffed with confusion, haziness and a lot of mind fucks. It doesn't take long for my tea to be made and I realisethat I now have to turn around and face the man who hasn't left my mind for the past three days.

He's sat in a booth by the window with a cup in front of him, a glass of water and what looks like a shortbread. I debate sitting on another table, but that really would be rude and unnecessary. I take a deep breath, carrying my small tray over to where he's sat, sliding across the booth next to him.

His eyes connect with mine and instantly I feel the pulsing between my legs. His stare is intense, it makes me squirm, but in the best way possible. He reaches down beside him and holds out some clothes. "Go and put these on" He instructs.

I frown "They won't fit me and I'm running back"

He snorts "You're not running home"

I raise my eyebrows, is that a challenge?"I absolutely am"

He sets the clothes down on an empty part of the table "It's dark. It's wet, you've probably already caught a cold and the streets aren't safe for a woman" My mouth sets in a straight line. I hate being treated like a helpless woman.

"I'm 24, not 12. I live 5Kaway and I have to complete my 15Ktonight." I push the clothes back towards him, my stubborn side showing.

"So help me, Rose. If you don't put these clothes on and let me take you home, I'll take you over my knee"

My jaw drops slightly, causing my mouth to open. I stiffen at the thought of him spanking me. "Is that a threat?" I ask

He pushes the clothes towards me "It's a promise. Go."

I clear my throat. The clothes that I'm wearing are getting colder by the second and the clothes he laid out do feel extremely soft. I grit my teeth, I can't believe that I'm obeying him.

I change, admiring the soft feeling of the baggy sweatshirt and joggers. They're not a cheap brand and that's obvious by how think and comfy they are. Lloyd never struck me as a cheap type of person, but he isn't flashy either. I'm a woman who hates flashy things, simple is best. I look in the mirror of the women's toilets, going on my tiptoes to try and see the bottom half of me in the mirrors that sit above the sink. At this point, I don't care about how I look, I just care about having a warm and dry body.