Page 31 of Honey, Honey
“Why didn’t he stay?” I whispered, wrapping my arms around myself. It had been good. He had enjoyed himself, or so I thought.
“I don’t want you to stay away from me either. That’s why this is all fucked, Honey. We can’t do this ever again.”
He’d said that. I knew he had enjoyed it, I knew that he had wanted me as badly as I wanted him. But if all of that was true when why had he said we couldn’t do it again? Why had he left me the way he had?
“You were lovely, Honey.”
I felt tears well up in my eyes. Lovely. Law had called me lovely. He’d given me his laugh. He’d carried me home in the rain, and he’d noticed my hallway lights were too dark.
The man was paying attention to me. There was no way he’d wanted it to be a one time thing, but even so…
“He still left. Respect it,” I told myself, swinging my legs and standing from my bed. It didn’t matter if my paths crossed with Law ever again. I would give him his space. I would pretend that last night hadn’t happened. Even if it sucked. Okay, it was mostly definitely going to suck. I knew that every cell in my traitorous body was going to want to go to him the second he came into my field of vision but I wouldn't do it. I’d maintain my distance and give him a bland smile, the kind that you gave to people you recognized in passing but weren’t really sure if you knew them or not.
I went to the sink and brushed my teeth, glaring at myself in the mirror. My eyes were red-rimmed from crying, my hair was wild from the rain and from my time with Law, I could see bags under my eyes from the lack of sleep. In short, I looked like shit. Just fucking great. I spit and rinsed my mouth putting away my toothbrush with more force than necessary. I blew out a deep breath and considered myself. I was going to need makeup today for sure if I wanted to roll into the shop looking human. It would be necessary for the club as well.
I couldn’t show my face there looking like I had cried the night away over a man. I turned the sink on and washed my face. I hated that I had spent the night crying over a man.
I applied my moisturizer and began applying my foundation, my mind wandering while my hands worked. My mind wandered a lot when I was stressed. Daydreams had always been my escape when I was younger and it hadn’t changed the older I got. After last night, it was second nature to vanish into a daydream, but I normally vanished into a happy daydream where everything was perfect and I guessed this was sort of that.
This daydream featured Law.
I’d be walking down the street window shopping and he would see me from across the street. I wouldn’t notice him, I’d be drinking a coffee and enjoying the perfectly sunny day, eyes on the shop’s offerings when he would approach me. He’d call out to me and I’d turn, not seeing him right away. But then there he would be walking towards me through the crowd. We’d lock eyes and he’d smile at me, a real genuine warm smile and he would tell me that he was happy to see me, surprised that it was here and now, but happy. I’d be happy too and I’d tell him that, and then before we could say anything else he would apologize for leaving.
“I got scared,” he’d say.
“It’s okay. I’m glad you’re here now,” I’d reply.
Law would take my hand in his and we’d walk down the street, hand-in-hand window shopping and ducking into a little restaurant down the street for a place we could just talk. We’d stay there for hours before we moved on with no destination in mind, the only thing on our agenda for the day would be spending time together.
The day would be perfect.
“You’re pathetic,” I whispered, stepping back from the mirror and grabbing my curling iron. I flipped it on and began to brush out my hair. “What the fuck, Honey?” The day dream was too much, even for me. A man like Law wouldn’t say he was sorry. He wouldn’t say something like he ‘got scared.’ This wasn’t a romance novel where the hero was just too overcome by his feelings so he ran.
This was real life, and men like Law did not run.
He’d left because he’d wanted to. He’d been good to me getting me home, and the orgasm? 10/10 wished it would happen again. Law had treated me right, even if I’d spent the night crying. That was on me and not the man. I took a section of hair and began to curl it, eyes on the strands as they heated.
“Pathetic,” I repeated, the word echoing in my ears with the same kind of finality of the door shutting behind Law. I had heard that sound as sure as the thunder that had kept me company until I’d managed to fall asleep. I did my hair, focusing on getting the curls just right, spraying them with extra hairspray because I didn’t just need my hair to last through my shift, but also the night that I was going to spend at the Cairn. When my hair was done I went to my closet, grabbing the leather tote I used when I stayed overnight at the club, it was a dark brown, the leather of it buttery soft and I loved it. It had been a splurge for me to buy. A purchase that I reserved only for when I was indulging the side of myself I kept hidden from the world. I fingered the soft leather and stared into my closet, the smoothness of the bag beneath my fingertips calming me, reminding me of where I would be in as little as twelve hours.
I might feel like shit right now, but I wouldn’t then. I pulled an emerald green dress, floor length with a high slit and thick straps that did fucking wonders for my modest cleavage. It would be a change for me, but the dress had been another impulse splurge. It made me look like a greek goddess, the draping of it, the flowing skirt that moved behind me when I moved. It was pure elegance and I hadn’t been able to resist buying it when I came across it at the consignment store down the street.
The club seemed a fitting place to embrace my inner goddess. She would not be phased by a man like Law giving her an orgasm and walking out the door before she’d even stopped trembling from the aftershocks of it. The woman that would wear this dress would push it to the side and hold her head up. I snagged a pair of strappy gold heels. The strap wound it’s way delicately up my leg ending below my knee, a detail I loved. The best part was the heel was thick enough that I wouldn’t be in danger of falling over after eight hours on my feet from work. I stroked my hands over the delicate material of the dress and blew out a heavy sigh before packing it and the heels away. I added a few undergarments in case I really wanted to impress, not that it mattered because the only one I wanted to impress was myself.
“This is for me,” I said, but I wasn’t quite convinced. I could hear it in the slight tremble of my voice. When I went to the club I normally opted for pastels, softer colors and dresses—mostly sundresses and ballet flats with hair bows and ribbons woven through my hair. But not tonight.
I had to be different tonight. I had to act different tonight.
It was the only way I would be able to put myself back together after my encounter with Law. An encounter that should not be affecting me like this. It was one night with a man I’d spent maybe two hours with tops, butstill…
That time spent with him had changed me. I didn’t even really understand how or why, but it had woken up the need and want to belong to someone—to this man.I hadn’t felt that in so long.
Truthfully, I hadn’t felt much when it came to the opposite sex unless it was within the negotiated boundaries of kink. The men I met in my day-to-day never piqued my interest. Mostly because I knew they would not be able to give me what I wanted. I bit my lip, tossing a few beauty products into my bag before hitching it high onto my shoulder and slipping into my sneakers on my way out the door.
What I wanted was unique to the patrons of the Cairn and not the men I came across in New York City. It was better that way. Less complicated, or at least as much as I could make it. Because there had been that time with...him.
I frowned, not liking how easily I could recall his face. Christian. All smug brown eyes and shining golden hair. He’d been handsome and charming when we met at the Cairn. His personality big and open, warm in a way that had me interested in learning more about him. Interested in seeing who he was outside of his role as Dom, outside of the club.
I had never wanted that before. We’d met the previous year when I had been eager to date. The itch to have a familiar face, a body I knew waiting for me in bed, had started to grow until it was all that I thought about when I crawled into bed at night. A girl could get by on her own, and I usually liked it, but sometimes the feel of another body was the only way to satisfy exactly what I needed.
