Page 5 of Truth
Dropping my mascara wand into the sink, I reach out to hold the sink as he brings his mouth to my neck to complement the grasp he has on my breast. My breathing becomes labored with the intensity of the writhing, “Nick.” His name leaves my lips as a moan rather than disapproval. “Nick, we can’t…we have to be there in thirty minutes.”
“We’ll be fashionably late,” he mumbles into my neck.
Smiling toward the ceiling as my head lies back on his shoulder, I push my rear into him to find a syncopated rhythm.
“See, baby, this is why you can’t wear this dress. I won’t be able to keep my hands off of you.” Who knew a shift dress would bring out all his sexy thoughts. I do like it when he’s controlling in bed, but this trait seems to be making an appearance outside of our bedroom as well.
“Sweet talker,” I giggle as he pulls away, locking eyes with me in the mirror. Nick raises his eyebrows as he scans my dress, his expression asking the question. I shake my head no in answer.
“Ouch! Nick.” My eyes grow wide with surprise from the hard squeeze my right ass cheek is given. My hand shoots down to rub the sting away. “That hurt.”
“That’s your punishment.” He winks and leans down to kiss my lips. Walking out of the bathroom, he doesn’t look over his shoulder. “Go change, babe. We’re going to be late.”
I stand for a moment wondering what just happened. I don’t really know how to process. Did he just try to manipulate me with sex? Did he try to punish me? What the fuck just happened? He knows I like it rough, but I can’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t about sex. It felt mean.
I turn and look in the mirror at myself. My cheeks are flushed, and my eyes are wild. I rub my bottom again before finishing my makeup and try to figure out how to say something to Nick. I walk out of the bathroom and square my shoulders. I’m not looking for some master; he is crazy if he thinks that kind of behavior will fly with me. The ass grab can stay but only in bed. Yeah, maybe we can keep that. My pussy agrees. I walk out to the living room ready to ask him what that was about when I catch his attention from the couch.
“Why haven’t you changed?”
“Because this is what I’m wearing.”
He sighs and looks down at his hands, shaking his head side to side. “Drew, I’m trying to help. This crew is just more…fashionable. You look like you’re going to a work meeting.”
I can’t help the look on my face. I don’t even try and mask it. “Are you kidding?” is written all over it. “I thought I was so sexy you couldn’t keep your hands off me? Sooo, let me make sure I understand—I’m sexy, just unfashionable? You know what’s unfashionable? Your fucking misogyny.” I pace across the room mumbling to myself and prepping for this fight. I’m spurred on by my anger at his nonchalance and start switching out my purse to the clutch I have in hand, shoving the items from purse to purse with more force than necessary.
Ignoring my comment, he continues. “Why don’t you wear that gold number I bought you the other day? Tina, Pat’s girlfriend, actually picked it out. I’m sure she would appreciate your nod to her choice.”
He walks into my bedroom as I stare at him in disbelief. This is why I don’t date.
“You have to be kidding. I’m hoping you walked in there to use the bathroom…” I’m proven wrong when he reappears holding the dress from the hanger. “Nick, you cannot be serious. I can’t wear that. I thought it was lingerie.” Throwing my hands up in frustration, I look at him, letting out a deep breath.
Nick starts walking in my direction, still holding the gold piece of shit. “Drew, baby. Listen to me. I love you in whatever you wear. I do. But I also know that you’ve been nervous to meet my friends, and selfishly I just need to ensure I have the hottest girl in the room. I just want to show you off.” He places the dress on the table next to me, then rubs his hands up and down my arms. “Stop looking for a fight where there isn’t one. I’m just looking out for your best interest.”
I want to yell at him, but I seem to be the only one worked up, and my mind froze the minute I heard “love” pop out of his mouth.
He said he loved me.
I know I’ve been feeling like I want to say it to him, but I didn’t expect it in our first fight.
He loves me.
Why am I fighting about something so ridiculous? How could I have ever thought he would hurt me?
He loves me.
This feels like one of those moments I’m going to look back on as a pivotal moment in our relationship, and I’ll be damned if our demise is my fault. I need to compromise.
“Nick, I’m not a trophy.” My voice is softer.
“Baby, that’s where you’re wrong. I feel like I’ve won the gold medal.” I put both my hands on his face, bringing his eyes to mine.
“Why can’t I say no to you?” I’m met with a grin, one that looks suspiciously victorious.
“Because you know I’m right.” Kissing my forehead, he reaches next to me and grabs the dress, holding it within my reach.
Taking a nervous breath, I take the dress. “You are really lucky I love you too.” My smile is tentative. I can’t believe I said it out loud. Nick pulls back from me, shoving his hands into his pant pockets. Tilting his head sideways, he purses his lips together, looking at me like he’s deciding what to say. I feel like I’m being examined.
“Drew.” The way he says my name immediately makes me regret what I said. I feel embarrassed as if he feels sorry for me. I’m sure it’s my imagination, but I want to run out of this room.
