Page 3 of Carnal Desire

Ariel looked distinctly uncomfortable at my show of emotion, which only made me cry harder. It was like all the feelings that I’d bottled up for the last few months had burst past the dam of my control and now that they were free, I couldn’t stop them.

“Come with me,” Ariel ordered, her voice stern but her expression completely blank.

I loved that bossy tone of hers. Sometimes late at night alone with my vibrator I imagined Ariel ordering me to do stuff. Back when I had a house that is. I’d had the most ridiculous crush on Ariel ever since the day I met her. Sometimes I’d go weeks without seeing her and I’d convince myself that my feelings for her were all in my imagination. Then I’d see her again and those confusing feelings would come rushing right back.

I slid out of bed, vainly trying to smooth my rumpled clothes. I was still wearing the shorts and cleaning company tee shirt I’d been wearing when I serviced Ariel’s condo earlier today. Except I’d removed my bra. I looked around furtively. Where had I put my bra? I spied it sticking out from underneath the bed, right next to my backpack. I guess I’d leave it there for now.

Ariel strode out of the room, confident that I’d follow her, which of course I did. I tried and failed not to stare at her rounded backside in the tight fitting pencil skirt she was wearing. Her ass was luscious, there was no other word that came to mind. I loved those pencil skirts she favored, and the cute little blouses she wore with them, always with one more button undone than was completely professional. Then again, Ariel had incredible breasts, much bigger than my tiny little ones. She should let those babies shine.

I followed her to the kitchen, then slid onto a stool at the island when Ariel pointed there, grunting, “Sit!”

The kitchen was large and open, with white tiles, white marble countertops, and white cabinets. Everything was top of the line from the fancy oven to the built in refrigerator to the bright blue Kitchen Aid mixer. The room should have been stark, butAriel had warmed it up with dark blue appliances and a basket of sunflowers on the marble island that she had delivered fresh every week.

She returned with a bottle of merlot and two glasses. I didn’t know anything about wine, but I’d bet my last dollar that the bottle cost more than anything I owned. Ariel poured us each a glass of wine, sliding mine over to me, then she took a slow slip.

“Tell me why you’re sleeping in my bed like my own personal Goldilocks,” she instructed. “I’ve noticed that you’ve seemed extra… stressed the last couple of months so start at the beginning.”

I spent the next ten minutes word vomiting the sad tale that was my life. How I’d moved to Chicago to meet a woman I’d never met in person and somehow ended up living with her. How she undermined my confidence enough over the years that I gave up on my education and settled into a menial role cleaning houses for rich people. How she suddenly dumped me and kicked me out of her house – after blocking me from our joint bank account – leaving me broke and homeless.

I couldn’t even look at Ariel while I told her the story, it was too embarrassing.

“Back up,” she said when I paused to take a breath. “You moved to another state to live with someone you’d never met in person? Why would you do that?”

“My mom had just died,” I mumbled. “I was depressed and lonely and not in my right mind. I thought I was in love. The relationship was good in the beginning but it went gradually downhill. I didn’t realize how bad things were until it was over.”

“And how long did you live with this person?” she asked. The way she saidpersontold me that she wanted to use a less flattering word.

“Six years.”

“So you are…?”

“Twenty-five,” I answered the question I knew she was asking.

“Oh Jesus, you’re even younger than I thought.”

That’s what she took from my story? It meant I was nine years younger than h.

“Anyway, I’ve been staying at the women’s shelter downtown but it’s really hard to sleep there,” I explained. “People are up and down all night, there’s coughing and snoring and people with mental illness talking to themselves. I haven’t had more than a couple of hours of sleep in weeks. I knew you were out of town, and I thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow night so… well, obviously I helped myself to your bed.”

I chanced a glance at Ariel.

“I’m so so sorry. What I did was completely inappropriate.” I was babbling nervously now. I took a breath and slowed down my speech. “I promise nothing like this will ever happen again. Please just… don’t report me. My boss will fire me.”

If I lost my job I’d never save up enough money to get an apartment of my own. I’d have to set up a cardboard box and a tarp on Lower Wacker Drive along with the other homeless people.

Ariel’s phone rang for the third time since we sat down. She rolled her eyes.

“Theo is going to keep blowing up my phone if I don’t answer,” she said. “He’s worried you’re a stalker or something.”

I had no idea who Theo was, but I nodded anyway.

“Hey Theo… yeah it’s a long story but my cleaner Sadie needed to rest… Iambeing nice! I was just about to order us a pizza. I’m fucking starving… Okay, yeah that would be great.” Her eyes strayed to mine. “What kind of pizza do you like, Sadie?”

“Oh no, I can’t stay. I need to get going.”

I glanced at my watch and winced. It was after eight. I’d slept for five hours and I had a feeling that I would still be sleeping if Ariel hadn’t woken me up. There was no way I’d get a shelter bed now. I either needed to ride the train all night or dip into my meager savings for a cheap hotel room for the night.

“You’re not going anywhere,” she said firmly. “Now tell me what kind of pizza you like.”

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